#my mum had to see the alarm to stop her from running away in the middle of the night and I get told to stop provoking her

[aithusarosekiller]

Why do younger siblings always get such a soft approach

When I was her age I got hormonal and my mum told me I was 'just like my father' who was a selfish, alcoholic, bigoted dick at the time. I never got an apology, I got all my things taken off me, i was cut no slack

But now she starts things, purposefully aggravates us, screams and swears and breaks things and I get told not to provoke her because it's hormonal and she'll calm down if I don't bother her? After I've spent all evening doing stuff for her, giving her my food because I wanted to share, asking her how her day went. She moves my drink and I walk around the kitchen asking 'where did I just put my drink?' I see that she put it in the sink after 2 minutes of asking and go 'oh, you moved it!' in the cheeriest voice I could manage and suddenly she yells at me to just shut the fuck up and starts running around slamming doors? And I get told to leave her alone?? Because it isn't her fault?

[birdiewriteslit]

“on the down low”

harry james potter x f!weasley!reader

no voldemort au

summary: you and harry have been hiding your relationship from your family for four months, but when he stays over for the holidays, they start to uncover the truth, one by one.

warnings: idk how long this is but it feels long, kissing, fluff, CHRISTMAS

me pretending voldemort doesn’t exist again for the sake of plot convenience and my own happiness

Godric, you hadn’t realized how hard it would be to pretend over the holiday. At first, it seemed like a dream come true. Harry staying at the burrow for Christmas meant you’d be able see him whenever you wanted, but you couldn’t exactly do what you wanted.

During the day, you and Harry had to act indifferent to each other, like you hadn’t been together since the end of the summer.

It was different than it was at Hogwarts, where nobody suspected a seventh year to go for her brother’s best friend, who was a year younger. That excluded Hermione, of course, who was just too damn smart to not figure you out.

You hadn’t realized how easy it was to sneak around in a giant castle with a multitude of empty classrooms and an invisibility cloak at your disposal compared to your house of nine other people where the walls were thin and the furniture was old, regardless of proximity between you.

You kicked Harry’s foot under the dinner table. He looked up from his plate and stared at you, bewildered. You nodded to your mother who had just asked him a question he clearly hadn’t heard.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his response. “Sorry?” He took his gaze away from you and onto Molly.

“Harry, I asked you if you’ve gotten yourself a girlfriend this year?” she clarified.

Harry spluttered, glancing at you quickly before looking back at her. He cleared his throat. “No, I haven’t.”

Your mother tutted. “A shame, really. Let’s hope you don’t end up like Charlie. Such a handsome boy, and yet, he can’t find a nice woman to settle down with,” she sighed and turned her attention to your older brother, who was rolling his eyes.

Harry looked relieved that he was no longer the one being questioned. “Mum, stop it. I’m only 22. I’m too young to settle down. Bill’s older and he’s not married.”

Bill stopped mid bite to gesture violently at Charlie to cut it out, but Molly paid him no mind.

“Spend your whole life with dragons, see if I care,” she responded vehemently. “Let’s hope your sister doesn’t go off with you to Romania when she graduates.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you became your mother’s new subject of torture. It was true, you were looking into a career with dragons, but it was unlikely you’d end up on the same reserve as your brother.

“You know, darling, you ought to find a nice boy. It would do you well.”

You grimaced. “And here we are, back to your favorite topic.”

“Not mine,” Fred interjected.

“Certainly not,” George added. “She’s not allowed to date.”

“Oh, she’s not, is she?” Ginny said, giving you a seemingly knowing look. Merlin, you could only hope she knew nothing.

“No, and neither are you, Gin,” Fred said swiftly.

“We’ll that’s unfortunate,” Ginny looked at you smugly. “Because I think our sister has had her eye on someone.”

Harry turned paler than normal, looking at you in alarm, his face saying, ‘Did you tell her?’ Hermione, to his side, gave you a similar look.

Your face heated under the eyes of your entire family. You shot Ginny a glare before deciding to get her back. “That’s what you think, but I know you bloody well fancy Dean Thomas.”

The focus shifted from you to Ginny. “Dean Thomas?” said Ron, staring at your sister in astonishment.

“Who’s Dean Thomas?” your mother asked cheekily.

Ginny groaned, hiding her red face in her hands. “I’m excusing myself. Goodnight, family.”

She stood up from the crowded table and basically threw her plate into the sink before running upstairs.

“Seriously, who’s Dean Thomas?” your mum asked for the second time.

“A boy in Ron’s year,” you explained briefly. “He’s perfectly decent,” you elaborated further, once you realized your family’s eyes were unrelenting.

“Well, who does she think you fancy?” Bill said, grinning. Why did the first thing he contributed during this conversation have to target you? Why couldn’t it have been revenge on Charlie?

“How should I know? I haven’t told her anything that would make her think I was interested in anyone.” That was a lie. You did tell her something.

“Are you?” Bill followed up.

“That’s really none of your business,” you said, standing up from the table and clearing your plate.

“As long as it’s not someone in our year, that’s what I say.” Ron nudged Harry, looking at his friend who nodded weakly.

You began to walk up the stairs, but not before shooting Harry a look that pleaded him to come upstairs when he could get away. Because of your circumstances, you’d gotten very good at giving each other wordless glances like these.

A little while later, a pajama clad Harry entered your room, checking the hall for anyone before closing the door behind him.

“Ron thinks I’m in the bathroom. Did you tell Ginny about us?” he said hurriedly.

“Of course not,” you denied. “I may have given her a hint though.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to! She was talking about Dean, and asked me if I liked anybody, and who am I to lie, so I said yes.”

“Um,” Harry interjected. “One problem with that is that we lie about our relationship every day. You are a liar.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Harry. Anyway, she asked me who and I wouldn’t tell her, so she started listing names. She asked me what I thought of you, and I let it slip that I thought you were cute,” you said sheepishly, toying with a button on his shirt. “I think I scared her off with the Dean thing, we should be in the clear.”

Harry only grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Oh shut up, would you?” you said, pushing his chest away from yours.

“Sure.” He pulled you back by the waist, his hands resting on your hips as he ducked down to kiss you. He tasted like toothpaste, but you really didn’t mind it.

He was about to pull away after a moment, but you tangled your fingers in his hair, keeping his mouth attached to yours.

“I’ve missed you all day,” Harry murmured against your lips.

“Godric, me too.” You clung onto him like you knew it wouldn’t last, and it didn’t. Ron called out to Harry from somewhere in the hallway, and Harry pulled away from you. His glasses were fogged up and he was cursing Ron.

When the lenses cleared, he leaned down to press another chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, exiting the room quietly.

You slumped onto your bed, staring at the open door with a forlorn look on your face. Ginny suddenly appeared in the doorway, her mouth hanging open and her hand pointing to the end of the hall, then to where you sat.

“What- what have I just witnessed? Why? This changes life as we know it. You! And Harry! You-“

You hurried to cut her off, standing from the bed and practically sprinting to the door to cover her mouth. “You be quiet now,” you warned, looking both ways in the hall and shoving Ginny inside your room.

“Why did I see Harry leaving this room looking like he’s got something to hide?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen, lady, you didn’t see anything, because nothing happened,” you said, pointing a finger at her.

“I never said anything happened, I just said he had something to hide. And guess what? I know he has something to hide, because I know you like him,” she retaliated, pointing her finger right back.

“Who? Me? Like Harry? Psssshhh… you’ve got the wrong girl. That doesn’t sound anything like me.”

Ginny folded her arms over her chest. “Oh really? Well, does this sound like you? Oh, Ginny, Harry’s just so cute! I wish he would like me back because, well, I just love him so much!” She batted her eyelashes, imitating a version of you that didn’t exist.

“Actually, Gin, that sounds nothing like me, so you can just forget anything that you think you saw,” you retorted.

“I don’t think I will forget. I think I’ll just tell everyone that you’re sneaking around with Harry. I didn’t miss the look he gave you at dinner either! So I can tell everyone, or you can quit lying and just give me all the details.”

She did have a way of getting you to cave. Really, it was just tactful manipulation.

“Alright fine, but if you tell anyone, you’re dead. Well, you can tell Hermione. She already knows.”

Ginny gasped, very offended. “You told her before your own sister?”

“I did not! She’s too smart for her own good. Anyways, sit down.”

Then, you told Ginny everything. It felt actually good to be able to talk about your relationship to someone other than Hermione, especially to your only sister, who you were honestly very grateful for.

You told her about how he kissed you a week before you left for school, solidifying the relationship you were having throughout the summer holiday. You told her about how he was funny and such a gentlemen. You even told her about how you’d been sneaking off since school started, and what you’d been doing.

Once Ginny was fully satisfied with the information and you were relatively sure she wouldn’t squawk to any of your brothers, she bid you goodnight and went to bed.

The following morning, Christmas Eve morning, you had risen later than usual. “Good morning, family,” you greeted, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the kettle.

“Morning,” Ginny said from the table. “I trust you slept well. I expect you feel loads lighter now.”

“Oh yeah, much lighter,” you grinned back.

“What are you two on about?” Bill said from his seat across from Ginny.

“Oh, nothing. Our sister just shared some interesting things with me last night,” she hummed.

You saw Harry’s head perk up from the couch, where he was laying. Ron was sprawled on the floor below.

“Gin, shut up,” you warned quietly.

“I’m not even sure I want to know,” Bill said.

“Oh, you’d be delighted, I’m sure. But, alas, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Ginny sighed.

“Then why even bring it up, you idiot?” you said as you sat down next to her, carefully eyeing a nervous looking Harry.

Bill followed your gaze and whistled lowly. You almost had a heart attack. “I see. That is very interesting.”

You turned to face your sister. “Look what you’ve done now. Why not just shout it from the rooftops?” you scolded.

“I didn’t say anything!” she defended.

“She’s right, you gave yourself away,” Bill confirmed, leaning in to whisper, “You’re lucky Ron’s pretty clueless on the floor over there.”

Your face burned. “Just don’t tell anybody.”

“Now why would I do that? It’s a whole lot more fun if you do it yourself.” Bill grinned, leaving you and Ginny at the table.

You dropped your head into your arms.

Later, you and Harry sat in the yard, leaning against a tree. You were on the side that couldn’t be seen from your siblings’ makeshift quidditch game across the yard.

It was the nicest day of break so far, not too cold, but not necessarily warm either. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, which delighted you.

You were lying in Harry’s lap, gazing up at him as he mindlessly played with your hair. “I can’t believe you told Ginny,” he said for the tenth time since breakfast.

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “I already told you, she was nagging me. Plus, I can’t really talk to Hermione about this sort of thing. She’s hung up on Ron. I keep telling her Lavender was just a phase because of some stupid love potion infused chocolate, but she usually just goes glum and ignores me.”

“You could just stop talking about us,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you said, reaching forward to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket.

“Why? Am I too charming and handsome for you to shut up about?” He grinned, taking hold of your hand and pressing it to his chest.

“Something like that.” You smiled, but quickly stopped when you saw the smug look on his face. “Don’t let that get to your head, Potter.”

“I won’t,” he said, leaning in to kiss your lips. His free hand came up to frame your face, and you placed yours on his thigh. You had half a mind to pull away, but only enough to see his face.

“Harry, we can’t do this out here. My siblings are right over there. Someone could see us,” you said softly, staring up at his bright green eyes.

“Honey, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m not gonna care,” he said, breath heavy as he looked at you adoringly. Your stomach did flips and you instantly forgot about reasons to hold yourself back.

You surged forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. You knew you wouldn’t get the chance to do so until well after dinner, so you took advantage of your siblings being distracted. He responded enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer.

“Woah, looks like I’ve caught more than just the snitch!”

You sprang apart, wiping your mouth as you looked up to see one of your grinning brothers, hovering above the tree on a broomstick holding a little golden sphere.

“Charlie! This isn’t what it looks like,” you managed, pushing yourself as far away from Harry as possible.

“Really, because it looks like you’ve been snogging his face off,” Charlie said, looking pleased with himself.

Harry burned bright red, refusing to make eye contact with either of you.

“Charlie, what’s taking you so long?” you heard Ron call from the other side of the yard.

“I’ll keep this a secret, but only because I love you, little sister. And because it’s funnier this way.” Charlie grinned again and turned on his broom to speed back to the group.

You and Harry left for the house before anyone else did, completely ignoring Hermione on the couch, her nose deep in a thick book, as you rushed upstairs.

Once you were sure you were alone, you stopped Harry in the middle of the hallway. “Okay, that was the last time. No more doing that in the open.”

“Sorry, got carried away. At least it wasn’t Ron who saw us.” Harry shuttered, not even wanting to think about what his reaction would be.

“Shake it off, Harry. Just three, only three of them know. There’s like a bajillion others that don’t,” you rationalized. “Look, we just need to get through this holiday without anyone else finding out that we’re together. I think we can do that.”

“You lied to mother?” A stiff voice came from down the hallway. Shit. You forgot Percy was still in the house, holed up in his room doing his Ministry work.

Harry’s eyes widened as he shook his head at you, refusing to turn around.

“You’re seeing someone and you lied about it?” Percy frowned. “Well, I’ll have to tell her.”

“No, you won’t have to tell her. Don’t tell her. Please,” you practically begged.

Percy didn’t look convinced. His steely gaze wouldn’t let up. “I won’t if you promise me to tell her.”

“I promise, Perce, just let me do it when I’m ready,” you said, less of a real promise and more of a strategy to get him to go back into his room. You were thanking God when he nodded curtly and did just that.

“Well, would you look at the impeccable timing on that,” Harry said sarcastically.

You grimaced. “Dinner’ll be a real treat tonight.”

Dinner was not a treat. It was delicious, of course, courtesy of your mother. But it was quite tense, at least for you and Harry.

Bill kept shooting you knowing glances from across the table, looking back and forth between you and Harry, who made the seemingly unconscious choice to sit beside you.

Charlie couldn’t even look at you without snickering to himself, prompting your mum to start questioning him on his odd behavior.

Percy was silently urging you to say something about it, pulling at his collar uncomfortably and staring at you, unrelenting.

Ginny was, thankfully, docile for the time being.

“Charlie, would you stop laughing at your sister? I don’t see what’s so funny about her,” Molly scolded, finally having quite enough of your brother’s behavior.

“Nothing’s funny,” he said with a hint of a smile.

Bill was looking at him with his eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you know?” he asked suspiciously.

“What do you know?” Charlie replied, just as skeptical.

“I think the better question is, what does dad know about muggles?” You laughed nervously, getting weird looks from Ron and the twins. “Come on, dad. Why don’t you tell us about your latest case?”

Your father looked up from his meal, looking surprised, for he had hardly been acknowledged since the start of dinner. “Oh, well, we had an odd couple in the other day. They were the sort who didn’t really look like they belonged together. So, anywho, they-“

“Hold on,” Ginny interjected. “How do you know they didn’t belong together? There are loads of couples who you might not think belong together, but actually do, so it’s best not to judge before you know the whole story.”

Your dad looked confused. “Um, I guess they just didn’t seem compatible, but I’m sure they belong together just fine, Gin, no need to worry about that.”

As he continued with his story about this couple and their illegally enchanted carpet, you turned to glare at Ginny.

She gave you a rather obvious look of annoyance, which gained the attention of Fred and George.

“Something’s going on here, Freddie,” said George, leaning to his right.

“Agreed,” said George, looking around the table.

You actually heard Harry gulp beside you. You put a hand on his knee, attempting to comfort him. This action made him choke on the sip of water he had taken.

“All right there, Harry?” Ron asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry coughed. “Just fine.”

Percy cleared his throat. “Maybe he has something to say.”

“Percy, don’t be rude,” your mother scolded. “The boy’s just choked.”

“Yeah, Percy, don’t know why you’d think he wants to say something,” Ginny said. “So, keep your mouth shut.”

None of the siblings who knew had known that others at the table were also aware, but they were each starting to connect the dots.

“Can I just have a nice Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” Molly slammed one hand on the table. “Enough of the fighting and the strange comments. Please, just be normal.”

Fred grinned. “I can’t imagine what’s abnormal about us.”

“Oh, me neither. But you, Freddie, are abnormal looking,” George followed.

The rest of the night after dinner was just as stressful. You and your siblings were sitting around the living room, with the exception of Percy, who, to your immense relief, had gone back to his room for work.

Fred and George decided it would be a good idea to play a game of truth or dare with the assistance of some veritaserum they nicked from Snape’s stores the day before holiday began.

Needless to say, you and Harry were not excited.

“Hermione,” Fred said. “Truth or dare?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as George made a gesture that suggested she should choose truth. “Dare,” she said.

“I dare you to go outside and kiss one of the gnomes.”

“A gnome, Fred? Really?” Ron scoffed.

“You’d rather she kissed you, would you?” George teased.

Ronsaid nothing, but his ears turned red, giving him away.

Hermione’s face turned a similar shade as she stood up from the armchair. “Fine, then.”

You all collectively gathered around the window and watched Hermione stalk outside and grab one of the ugly gnomes by its bald head. She made a disgusted face and gave the gnome a peck so fast that you barely saw it.

She came back inside and washed her mouth out in the sink before returning to the chair. “George,” she said coolly. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth, of course!” George said happily. “We’ve got to put our stolen goods to good use.”

“It was very wrong of you to take Professor Snape’s materials,” Hermione said, frowning. “Is it true that you were the ones who gave Ron amortentia spiked chocolates last month?”

“Yes,” George said easily.

Ron scoffed loudly. “You told me that wasn’t you! You said it was her! I was following Lavender Brown around for weeks because of those!”

“Well, we hadn’t meant for you to go for her. It was supposed to be someone else.” George winked at Hermione.

“We messed up the potion,” explained Fred.

George looked to you. “Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Truth,” you said mindlessly, thinking about Hermione and the gnome. You noticed the alarmed look Harry was giving you and realized your mistake. Damn gnome.

George grinned mischievously. “Do you really have a boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you said unwillingly.

A gasp from Ron could be heard from the other side of the room. Ginny and Hermione were looking rather nervous for you. On the contrary, Bill and Charlie were quite amused.

“Tell us, who is he?” Fred continued off of George.

“Harry Potter,” you admitted before slapping a hand across your mouth.

An even louder gasp could be heard from Ron that caused Charlie to burst out laughing. Fred and George were looking rather pleased with themselves. You supposed that was better than them pranking the life out of Harry for dating their sister, which you had expected to happen.

Harry sat on the couch with his hands clenched at his sides, looking at the floor as his whole face turned red.

“My sister, Harry? Really?” Ron said, his voice carrying a mixture of anger and betrayal.

“Yeah, well, I love her,” Harry said, fully dropping his head into his palms. He definitely hadn’t meant to say that to everyone in the room. “I hate this damn potion.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Freddie,” said George.

“It sure does, Georgie,” Fred said, clasping his hands together over his chest.

“Honestly, this is a Christmas miracle,” Hermione burst out. “I’ve been covering for you for months. Four, horrible, long months.”

“Four months?” Ron said, bewildered. “Hermione, you knew and you never told me?”

“Oh, please, Ronald. If you opened your eyes you would’ve seen what was going on,” Hermione said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re bloody brilliant. You could spot anything off. I love that about you,” Ron confessed.

Bill and Charlie were wheezing on the floor at this point.

“This is the gift that keeps on giving!” Fred exclaimed.

“I’m so happy we played this game,” George said through laughs.

Hermione stood, cheeks burning. “We should all go to bed. It’s Christmas tomorrow.” She went up the stairs quickly. Ron seemed to have forgotten all about you and Harry and followed her.

Your other four brothers slowly made their way upstairs, practically dying from laughter at your expense.

Ginny stood awkwardly, bidding you and Harry goodnight and leaving you alone in the room.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you said, finally making eye contact with Harry, who was still looking a little red.

“I, for one, didn’t fancy confessing my love for you to your whole family,” Harry said, scooting over to your spot on the couch.

“I did.” You grinned, leaning towards him. He rolled his eyes, but indulged you anyways, letting his lips touch yours.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” you whispered against him. “I love you, too.”

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra I

You can read the rest of Neighbors here: Neighbors

Nobody asked for this little check-in, but I really loved Rory and recently went for a car-wash and had a gooey song playing and my little Neighbors family were all I could think about. I have a couple more ideas for these cutie pies up my sleeve too. Hope you enjoy <3

This is all the fluff in the world.

“Whoa,” he said admiring the colors. “Mumma, do you see it?” He asked, pushing from Harry’s lap a bit so he could touch the windshield like Harry did.

She couldn’t be bothered to look because she couldn’t stop staring at Harry and his easy smile. “Yeah, I see it."

Harry didn’t like when she drove him around because he liked to spoil her rotten. He thought about all the things she had to sacrifice to be a mum at a young age all by herself. He knew that she didn’t mind in the slightest. It was obvious with everything in her that she would do anything for Rory, but it meant that Harry would sulk a bit when she did things like drive when she didn’t need to. Harry was content to drive her around and do anything for her if it meant she would just sit there and look pretty and relaxed because she deserved to be treated like a princess after years of caring for the sweet boy.

But she did look quite relaxed as he got back in from pumping gas for her. They were doing all the little errands today—the bank, the pharmacy—a stop at Target and Starbucks for her of course—the grocery store, the post office, and gas was last on their list. Stopping at the park for a bit of play before they continued was also necessary. It was the best, perfect spring day since the season began. She smiled as he got back in. “Thanks, my love,” she whispered.

Harry leaned forward as he got in and kissed her cheek quickly. The music was playing from her speakers, and it was perfect. The cutest little family moment in existence.

“Y’should get a car wash,” he said looking at the pollen buildup at the sides of her windshields as she pulled away from the pump.

“Mumma and I wash the car,” Rory said from the back of the car. She giggled and peeked at the rearview to see her little one sitting up straight in his booster seat.

“Well that I’d like t’see,” Harry muttered under his breath for her. She reached out to smack him lightly across the stomach while she blushed a bit. Harry grabbed her hand as she did and kissed her fingertips softly. “We’re out now. How ‘bout it, kitten?” He asked.

“Oh alright,” she said. “Can’t remember the last time I went through one,” she murmured.

Harry handed her his card since it was his idea and refused to let her argue. She rolled her eyes but started to pull through the little space. It was a bit loud when the motors started to begin their presoak. “Mumma, I don’t like that,” Rory said quickly, alarm running in his voice. Oh. So, it was before Rory was born that she went through one of these. Shit.

“Oh baby,” she cooed turning in her seat to look at him. “It’s okay!” She said encouragingly. “We just sit here and let it do its thing...the noise is just the machine. It’s going to—”

“Mumma,” he whined and undid his seatbelt standing up in front of the seat. He grabbed her hand holding onto the headrest while she kept her foot firmly on the brake making it an awkward position for her to sit but she would of course do it.

His worry made her so upset. She hated even the slightest anxiety poking into his voice. Like the machine was going to come through the window and hurt him.

Even if it did, she’d never let it hurt him. “Rory, it’s alright—”

“I don’t want to...” the water started to pour over the car and the worry in his eyes amplified rapidly causing tears to fill his eyes. “Mumma!” He whined again. Her heart ached and she was about to pull forward and get out of there before he panicked fully. But right as she started to, Harry grabbed her hand on the gearshift with a subtle squeeze as he turned toward the back.

“Hey, c’mere, Rory,” Harry said reclining in his seat and reaching for him. Her heart fluttered at Harry’s gentle tone and the way his muscles flexed so easily as he lifted Rory over the front console and into his lap. Rory snuggled into Harry’s lap looking nervous as ever. But Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Rory and he smiled into his hair. Rory was so little compared to Harry’s body. She couldn’t imagine her little one growing into a man like Harry. Harry held him tight, boxed in his embrace like a cage and Rory peered nervously around Harry’s body to get a view of the scary machine.

“S’pretty cool, lad. Even if it’s scary,” he told him. “M’not gonna let anything happen t’you,” he promised easing his anxiety almost immediately. She saw the way the worry slid off his body so quickly she felt a sigh of relief flow through her. “Mummy and I would never put you in danger,” he reminded him. She was well aware that Harry loved Rory, but at times like this, the display of his affection melted her. Harry reached out and touched the windshield as the multi-colored foaming soap painted the glass like the start of an impressionist painting. “See?” He kissed the side of Rory’s head.

“Whoa,” he said admiring the colors. “Mumma, do you see it?” He asked, pushing from Harry’s lap a bit so he could touch the windshield like Harry did.

She couldn’t be bothered to look because she couldn’t stop staring at Harry and his easy smile. “Yeah, I see it,” she mumbled. Harry winked at her keeping one arm around his waist just so he wouldn’t get too comfortable standing in the car. With his other hand he grabbed hers and squeezed it. All the while the sound of a love song played through the car. Her heart full, Rory happy, and staring at the love of her life.

“Mumma, can we go in Harry’s car now?” He asked as Harry held him tightly while she pulled forward to an empty parking spot so he could get back in his seat.

“He’s an expert now,” Harry smirked.

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s not scary anymore.”

She smiled. “Course, love bug.”

Rory looked contemplatively at Harry and then at his mom in the mirror while Harry strapped him back into place. “Can you still hold me when it starts though?” He asked.

She giggled. “Always, cutie pie,” she promised.

Rory was insistent that he get the disposable camera Grandma got him so he could document the car wash. She leaned against Harry’s car while waiting for him to finish putting the booster seat into place in the back. Once finished he smiled at her standing in front of her, hands shoved in his pockets. “Would you want to sell your house?” She asked.

He smirked. “And where would I live?” He asked impishly.

She rolled her eyes and looked away from him with a smirk and shake of her head. “Harry,” she faked her exasperation.

“Course I’d sell my house,” he stepped closer to her, his feet on either side of hers and he pressed his arm over her head so he could lean in close to her. “Live with you and Rory every day? I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Yeah...but I’ve lived here for forever and you’ve barely lived in your house for the last year.”

“I don’t know if y’noticed, beautiful. I’ve been trying to be at your house more than m’own for over a year too,” he reminded her with an eye roll.

She smiled and brought her hands to either side of his neck and pulled him closer, so his forehead pressed to hers. “I didn’t know a car wash would make me fall more in love with you.”

“Would have recommended it sooner. S’the little things, right?” He hummed, brushing the back of his freehand across her cheek. His smile made her lovesick and she felt it all the way to her toes. She grabbed his hand as he did and brought it to her lips where she kissed the side of his hand.

“You love Rory,” she sighed the accusation dreamily.

“With every piece of m’heart except for the equally huge space I have reserved jus’ for m’love of you. But when he clung t’me like that in the car, I think he took some more of the real estate that was your space,” he admitted sadly, like she would get irritated with him.

“He has that effect on people,” she giggled. Harry pressed his lips on hers, sighing at the feel of her soft lips and her pretty tongue mixing with his.

There was a flash in her peripheral, making her pull away from his lips. She saw Rory holding the camera to his eye as he giggled. “Thought y’didn’t like the kissing, lad,” Harry remarked keeping her pressed to the car, arms caging her in place between his body and the car.

Rory smiled and shrugged. “It’s kinda okay when you and Mumma kiss,” he wrinkled his nose.

She gently pushed Harry away and crouched in front of him. “I’d like Harry t’move in with us. Does that sound okay?” She asked. She already knew the answer, but he always had good responses to things like this.

“I thought he already did. Are we going to bring the rest of your clothes over on Thursday, then?” He asked, looking at Harry.

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her smile, but it was impossible because that was one of the cutest things she ever heard. Harry was leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles. “You’re the worst secret keeper, Rory,” he told him. “Honestly, kitten, how you haven’t said anything ‘bout doing m’laundry for a month nearly had me worried.”

“Thought I was just...wishful thinking,” she said scooping Rory into her arms as Harry opened the door for her to get him in his seat. “Or maybe your washer broke.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled opening the passenger door for her next. She smiled and pressed her lips to his as she got in her seat.

“And I love you,” she said grinning up at him before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

“To the car wash!” Rory said excitedly. She giggled at him setting up another stupid love song to play while looking at Harry during the most mundane of things like a car wash where she could fall in love with him a little more.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @tiredinwinter @sunshinemendes8 @youdontcaredoyou

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

[the-fiction-witch]

Seventeen P1-4

Media The Maze Runner AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Seventeen Series

I heard my alarm blaring so I sighed and forced my body up out of my grey sheets onto the cold wooden floor, I rubbed my face a good few times trying to get my head on straight. I grabbed my phone from the side turning off my alarm. 

September 14th 6.02 

I pushed myself up taking my phone and the speaker hung on my wardrobe door with me as I headed out of my bedroom down the corridor and into the cold bathroom. I shut and locked the door setting my phone up to play my music and turning the shower on letting it warm up, I grabbed my toothbrush squirting the paste onto the bristles and starting to clean. I tried desperately to get my head on straight given it was still dark outside and I maybe for three hours of sleep,  brushing my teeth while the shower heated up. Once it was warm enough I finished with my toothbrush and stripped off jumping in the shower already hearing banging on the bathroom door I merely ignored her letting the heat of the water wash away my troubles turning up my speaker to drown her out as I scrubbed and rubbed suds across myself. Even if immediately I noticed the heat had made my dick perk up but I ignored it. 

"Uuuughhhhh! Newt!" She yelled but I just scrubbed away listening to my music "Newt! Get out!" She yelled banging on the door hard 

"Shut up" I sighed trying to enjoy my shower

"Mum! Newt's hogging the shower again!" 

"I've told you, kids, a hundred times you each get ten minutes, you think water grows on trees? I don't wanna have to get a timer in there but I'm thinking about it!" She yelled from downstairs in the kitchen

"I just got in here!" I argued

"Isaac, Don't argue with your mother, Finish your shower now and give it to your sister" My dad Yelled from their bedroom 

I sighed and finished up with my shower making sure to grab all the towels as I left, leaving none for her and making sure to leave the bathmat damp, I grabbed my stuff and headed out and as I opened the door she was waiting, tapping her foot. Wearing her pink and white stripped PJ's her hair in the weird plush roller things to keep her curls tight as she slept, and gold gel things on under her eyes and pink fluffy slippers,

Soyna Newton, My little sister likely the most annoying person I know, She used to just be the little glitter-dropping princess freak who got on my nerves now she had become a busybody flag girl with dreams of grandeur, Needless to say, we didn't much get along. 

She stuck her tongue out at me so I did it back, she then swore at me so as I headed down the corridor to my own room I put my middle finger up at her and she did it back, we kept one-upping each other so we know stood with me outside my bedroom and her in the bathroom violently but silently swearing at each other until our mum came up the stairs standing between us and gave us both a look so Sonya sheepishly went into the bathroom and I sheepishly went to my room. 

I got dry and dressed into my Converses, my brown cargo pants, my bright orange portal t-shirt and my white hoodie over the top, I shoved everything I needed for today off my desk and into my leather messenger bag and I headed downstairs hearing the shower still running. I arrived in the kitchen seeing orange juice and toast on the table for breakfast my dad sat with his paper and my mum was loading the dishwasher

"Sonya's still in the bathroom," I told her

"Don't be a tattletale Isaac" She laughs "Besides your sister takes longer in there since her bedroom mirror broke"

"So if I start curling my hair and doing makeup I can get an extra twenty minutes in the bathroom?" 

"Will you too ever stop arguing?" My dad laughs

"No" I answered grabbing some toast "Right on off to the bus, by mum, by dad" I smiled giving my mum a kiss and my dad a hug

"Have a good day Isaac" my mum laughs

"I wanna see that physics paper when you get home" my dad reminded me 

"I know," I told them before I headed out to the front stoop where I hid from the rain waiting for the bus, Soon enough Sonya joined me in her little pink dress. "You're gonna get dress-coded for that you know"

"Can for five minutes you just not open your mouth?" She says heading out from the stoop

"Where are you going?"

"Walking to Alexandra's"

"Why?"

"So the bus picks me up there"

"...why?"

"So people on our bus route don't know you're my brother," she says as she heads down the street towards Alexandra's house she lives only a few doors down,

"We have the same last name you can't hide our sibling relationship forever" I yelled to her, so I just put my headphones in and waited Soon enough the bus arrived so I climbed on and as usual sat in an empty seat listening to my music. 

We picked up Sonya and Alexandra they, of course, avoided me like they didn't know me and we headed to school picking up everyone on the way, before finally arriving at the school I waited to be the last off so I didn't have to fight the wave of people climbing off and heading inside the large brick building trying to just get on, I glanced around the corridors to these people I've known my whole life noticing just how fucked we all are and how far we had strayed from the sweet innocence of the playground. 

I reached my locker and dumped stuff inside gathering up what I would actually need for today or at least for this morning and leaving anything I didn't where I stood checking my schedule for the day grabbing the books and folders I would need for my first couple of classes, taking out my headphones and turning off my music as to not get caught using them. 

"Hey newt," Thomas smiled as he came to his own locker just beside my own, dressed for the day in his black Nike's a pair of dark grey pants, a light blue shirt with some logo on I didn't know and a denim jacket over it, his backpack over his shoulder 

Thomas Stephenson, moved to town over the summer and of course, was still branded as 'the new kid' We met up a few times over the summer and when I found out he was coming here for school I let him tag along with me till he got used to the place, you could say we had become friendly. He was a nice guy, on the debate team, in drama club working his way up the high school ranks. 

"Hey, Tommy,"

"So you have it?" He asks

"Have what?"

"The answers to the quiz in biology?"

"I might" I answered "You know I don't do drop off till two, second-floor haunted bathroom"

"Come on man I need the answers before then, I've got the class third period and I was up all night with Teresa so I didn't study"

"Well supply and demand"

He rolled his eyes and opened his denim jacket grabbing five bucks held up and sneakily offered it to me I checked over my shoulder and snatched it off him putting it in my pocket and grabbing him the answers from the folder in my locker which I handed over

"Thanks, newt,"

"Thank you" I smirked putting the cash in my pocket and shutting up my locker it was then I noticed him staring "What?" I asked turning around and I saw them.

The south side doors opened and in came, They all wore their uniform the little white platform sneakers, knee-high Light blue socks with a white stripe around the top, light blue pleated skirts most barely even reaching their thighs the insides of the pleats white, a small non-sleeve shirt in the same light blue with two white stripes making a point across their chest, and the school team logo. all of them have their bags and their hair in various styles mostly up in some form or another, They seemed to move as one in this slow-motion walk as if this corridor was New York Fashion Week. 

Of course, everyone got out of their way, like royals dividing sea of peasants with their meer presence

The cheer team, Lisa Danbury, Destiny Rochester, Beth Smith, Misty Hamlen, Lana Vine, Jodie Crusher, Alexandra Bolton, and Katie Peterson, not to be rude to them but they all kind of blended together mostly due to the fact the group was rarely seen separated leaving them to blend into this wave of blue, white and platinum blonde, of course, they all had personalities but the air of them merely being the cheer squad was pretty much all anyone really knew. 

With two exceptions, Namely 

At the top of the scale, is the queen bee, the all-mighty. Teresa Agnes. 

She stood at the front of her pack her sneakers on a higher platform than the other girls, her uniform the same but she had a leather jacket over her shoulders, black cat eye sunglasses blocking out her expression, her lips around the white and red straw that reached into the clear plastic cup of her slushie. She didn't even carry her own bag. Her jet black hair allowed to flow down against her skin with a blue hair hand to push it back. 

She was the Queen, the tip top of the social hierarchy, She said Jump you politely ask how high on your knees thanking all the gods she even spoke to you. She was the perfect picture when you imagine a cheerleader everything teen girls wanna be and everything teen boys want to get their hands on, Rumor spiralled around her but I doubt much of it was actually true. then again I had more insight than most. 

I didn't stand in awe like most just respectfully waiting as they passed us and I quickly turned to see her doing my best not to get caught, Yeah the other exception... 

Y/n y/l/n, One of the 'bottom of the pyramid' cheerleaders stronger and bigger than the rest and they are less popular but still a cheerleader and still higher than anyone else, sort of like being the lowest of the worker bees for the queen but you know still way higher then us maggots, she was everything I dreamt of and everything that drove me crazy, I'd sell my soul for her if the devil offered. 

She walked In her uniform her hair was in a long braid with a blue bow her books in hand following along with the group I sighed she looked so good, I'd give anything just to be able to hold her hand. 

"You are soo-"

"Don't say it" I snapped

"Talk to her"

"Are you crazy?"

"I mean... jury's out on that one" he laughs as we head to class

"Look Tommy, you're still new around here but I guess you understand hierarchy right? And the cheer team is at the top of the hierarchy. They all date the jocks, there all beautiful, and one of them will be prom queen. They're our pink ladies, our plastics, Our heathers. there untouchable"

"Interesting how Heathers are your ultimate in that line"

"Dead girl walking is a banger and I will not hear your dishonour, Tommy"

"Fine, but I've been here two months and I'm dating Teresa"

Yeah, that's my insight, how the fuck he did that I do not know!

"You got lucky, as the new kid you entered as a main character energy-neutral party and there could take any potential place in the chain. you are the sandy or the cady of this situation. I... I am treasurer of the chess club and head of the Scholastic Decathlon Team I am so low on this totem pole I may as well be in the dirt, I wouldn't even be a named character a backing extra if I'm lucky"

"You're never gonna get anywhere with a mindset like that, put some effort in kick yourself in the butt and rise"

"That's not possible"

"Sure it is, ...uhhhh Hu! Veronica Sawyer" he says as we sit in class

"Okay yes. But that involved a lot of betraying murder and madness." I explained "And my face is not already able to be split by a meat cleaver and have perfectly matching halves. and that's very important to be Veronica Sawyer" 

"I'll be honest I've used up all my knowledge, I'm assuming all of that was references?"

"You're in theatre club Tommy"

"Yeah, we've just been doing Le Mis songs since I got here"

"cheap bloody theatre club we've done Le mis four times. seriously go home and watch Heathers. It's great" I told him

"Will do, if you actually talk to y/n"

 "I wish there was some way I could talk to her,"

"Alright Class" Mr Janson headed in putting his stuff on the desk "Pop quiz!" 

I hung onto my bag trying to keep my excitement at bay as I headed through the school like a fish heading upstream I reached the class and sat myself down excitedly. Not for class of course not, for physiology? You must be kidding. No the only justification I even took this stupid class, She sauntered in as she strolled on air, in her little white platform plimsolls, her short socks one of which was slightly lower than the other, flesh tone tights maybe a tone or so richer than her skin under them, her cute little cheer skirt and top, her hair in the cute braid with the bow to match her uniform, she had three folders in her arms one blue, one red, and one pink. Her little blue messenger bag over her shoulder, a sweet blue eye shadow to match her uniform and a glossy cherry lip gloss over her sweet lips as she came through and sat right In Front of me setting her folders on the table and her bag on the floor, she leant over opening her bag unzipping it and grabbing her little fluffy pencil case with cat ears and a little face embroidered on it opening it up to get at all her matching brand pens and pencils 

I sat, utterly smitten the whole class. Just staring lovingly at the back of her head watching her every so often get items from her bag, Part of me couldn't help but look at the hem of her skirt as she sat one leg over the other, ummmm my little cheerleader what I wouldn't do for you, I couldn't help imagining my hands across that uniform, I couldn't help slightly leaning forward inhaling the sweetness, she smelt like cherries and ice cream. I almost shook my body so utterly enamoured with her even if I did do my best not to go too crazy given this morning I was kind a hair trigger and being this close didn't help, and I knew I only had a few more minutes of the class and she'd be gone again which would only leave me more disappointed. When I noticed something. On her bag, I suppose I never really looked at her bag? More focused on her, but I noticed in the small strap of her bag sat a clasp, of course, to attach it to the main body of the bag and she has attached a couple of key rings there, one a small fluffy ball that most girls had on their bags not sure why I'm sure it's something I don't understand, a keyring with the school logo on something I saw a lot of the cheer team and other jocks have on their bags, coats and locker keys as I assume the school just gives them out, and then one more keyring, once of those bits of acrylic with a some art inside and the picture was of a croquet mallet hu? Maybe she likes croquet? But then I noticed the mallet was blue with some blue flowers around it and a tattoo-style scroll reading 'colour me Stoked'

I almost had a heart attack!

She's not in drama club, or anything like that... 

Luckily the bell went and she headed off I gathered up my stuff still utterly shell shocked as I headed out emotionless until I reached the benches where Thomas sat waiting for me with a few others.

Alby Estine, Class president and USA in the model UN and as uptight and rule-abiding as one can imagine which didn't exactly make him popular, he and I were pretty good friends as I'd known him since kindergarten and I unfortunately was the UK in the model UN I didn't wanna be but he didn't really give me a choice. 

Alby sat in his button-down eating his sandwich and reading his Politics textbook. 

Zart Larkspur, garden club captain and the school stoner, I didn't smoke personally but we both worked at the Seven eleven after school so had formed a pretty good bond the kinda we've both dealt with bullshit kinda bond you form with co-workers in a less than minimum wage job.

Zart sat his head on the table wearing his usual green hoodie and jeans, beside Frypan

Siggmon Fredricks or Frypan as everyone I had ever known calls him, was best friends with Zart and kind of came as a package deal with him but he was a cool guy and an amazing cook he actually brought a suitcase to school but no books not one, he used it all for food and snacks he either bought or made himself running a tuck shop out of the case. 

He sat with a box of his homemade wings too busy enjoying them to really care what else was happening at the table. 

"You okay newt?" thomas asked 

"she- she uhhhhhhhh she's"

"What's up with him?" Fry asked

"she .... she uhhhhh"

"Did he get a flash under y/n's skirt and it broke his brain?" Zart chuckled moving enough to open one eye to see me 

"Sh- she's she's one of us"

"What?" thomas asked 

"She's one of us she's... a weirdo. she likes musicals, she's got a weird little fringe interest... I think I'm even more in love" I smiled laying my head on the table

"Uhhhh okay newt we'll just do stuff around you" fry smiled patting my head and putting one of his wings into my mouth 

[headcanonsandmore]

Ways Parted

Summary:  Yaz finds herself being sent away to safety by the Thirteenth Doctor. However, a certain hologram (and a message from a past incarnation of the Doctor) may just help her save the time lord she loves. Slight AU of "The Power Of The Doctor".

Tagging:   @wholesome-dragon-lady @asugarfoot @anxietyriddenhuman

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                       Read on FFN.                               Read on AO3.

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Yaz was not having a great day.

First, Dan had left the TARDIS and, while Yaz did miss him already, she didn’t remotely blame him for leaving. Given that he’d almost had his space helmet punctured, he probably deserved a bit of a quiet life. Like he said, the life Yaz had with the Doctor wasn’t really for him.

Still, she missed him nonetheless. He had been there for her through those long years in the early twentieth century, making sure she didn’t lose faith and keeping the mood light with a joke when things got too heavy. He had almost become like an uncle for Yaz; hopefully, they’d be able to keep in touch.

Then, the whole plot with the Master had happened, and Yaz had been thrust into the UNIT headquarters. And met Tegan Jovanka and Ace McShane. That had been a bit of a shock, to say the least. She’d met Captain Jack before, of course, but this was… different. Two women older than Yaz’s mum had been travelling with the Doctor when they had been Yaz’s age. That… shocked her.

Although she could guess that Tegan’s “we used to be you” hadn’t been referring to… whatever was going on between Yaz and the Doctor.

That was a thing now. Her and the Doctor.

Talk about a quick turnaround. All that business with the sea devils had drastically changed things between them. The Doctor did care for Yaz in the same way that Yaz did for her, but… the two of them couldn’t do anything. Time was apparently running out for the Doctor. And Yaz wasn’t sure she could bare to see the Doctor she loved change into a whole new person.

So, here they were. Trying to enjoy things while they lasted.

Anyway, back on topic.

The Master had turned up, caused all manner of difficulties. Now, Yaz was holding the Master under armed guard while the Doctor piloted them back to the Russian Empire during the First World War.

The TARDIS slowly stopped groaning, and the Doctor headed out of the doors, following by the Master, who was smirking in that infuriating way. Judging by Tegan and Ace’s reactions to him, he had been causing trouble for decades. Yaz didn’t want to know about the cat thing, though.

Yaz followed them, pointing the gun at the back of the Master’s head. She was just reaching the doors when the room beyond them opened up before her-

Daleks and Cybermen. Dozens of them.

‘Yaz?’ the Doctor said, as she stepped out of the doors.

‘Yeah?’

‘…. I’m sorry.’

‘What for-’

But Yaz heard the tell-tale sound of the sonic screwdriver, and the TARDIS doors slammed shut between Yaz and the Doctor.

‘No!’ Yaz screamed, charging forward. The gun fell to the ground, forgotten. Yaz slammed her hands against the blue doors, but she could already tell that they had been locked. Behind her, she could hear the TARDIS dematerialising.

Turning, she hurried towards the console.

‘C’mon, if I can get back to UNIT,’ she thought aloud. ‘I can fix this; get help and-‘

‘Heya!’

Yaz jumped, turning.

A hologram of the Doctor had appeared. Same hair, same clothing, same smile.

Yaz let out a small squeal of alarm.

‘If you’re seeing this, I’m probably dead,’ said the hologram. Yaz stared at them, her mouth falling open. ‘Oh… bit overdramatic, maybe? Anyway, I have been working on this literally forever! It’s a fully interactive holo-me! It’s based on my behaviours across thousands of years, and it will only activate in the gravest of circumstances. Like if I’m not around. Anyway, I will have remembered to insert a nano-trigger under your skin at some point. I should do that; I need to remember to do that.’

‘You could have told us you’d done that!’

‘Whoa!’ the hologram said, wobbling. ‘The emotional receptors on this AI are a little oversensitive. Apparently, you’re… upset with me? I should… apologise for something?’

She’s lucky she’s cute, Yaz thought, sighing. Sometimes she really does take the mick.

‘You locked me in the TARDIS,’ she said, irritably. ‘Trying to keep me safe because you’d know I’d follow you into anything!’

‘Oh…’ the hologram replied. ‘Er… sorry.’

Yaz turned and frantically tried to operate the TARDIS controls, but they didn’t seem to budge.

‘Did you set them on an automatic course?’

‘Probably,’ the hologram said, from behind her. ‘I’ve got the TARDIS controls linked up to my sonic, so I can remote operate it if need be.’

‘Where’s it sending me back to?’

Yaz stared into the monitor.

Sheffield. Present day.

Of bloody course it was.

She’d sent Yaz home. That stupid, self-sacrificing time lord had sent Yaz home. Away from danger.

Away from the Doctor.

Yaz sank slowly down the floor, turning slightly as she did so, her back leaning against the central console. She put her face in her hands, and closed her eyes.

‘Please…’ Yaz whispered. ‘I need to help her. She’s surrounded by Daleks and Cybermen, and the Master as well. I… she needs me.’

The TARDIS made a soft bleep, and Yaz’s eyes flicked open.

Then, two new holograms appeared in the centre of the console room, as if being projected from the TARDIS data banks. Two figures; one was a tall man in a leather jacket, the other a shorter, blonde woman in baggy flared jeans.

‘This is emergency protocol one…’ spoke the man, in a Mancunian accent. ‘Now, Rose; listen…’

‘Gosh, that’s me,’ said the hologram of Yaz’s Doctor. ‘Haven’t seen that face for a while.’

‘That’s Rose, isn’t it,’ Yaz said, putting down her hands and looking up at the woman. ‘The friend of yours that Captain Jack mentioned.’

The hologram nodded.

Yaz had long suspected that she hadn’t been… the first time the Doctor had fallen for a companion. She knew that there had been others before. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But… well, this wasn’t her Doctor. Technically, it was the same person, yes, but… Yaz had fallen for her Doctor. Not any of the others.

‘Emergency programme one means I’m facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine,’ continued the man. ‘So this is what you should do…’

‘But… what am I supposed to do?’ Yaz said, looking between the two figures.

‘And if you want to remember me, you can do one thing… that’s all, one thing.’ The figure turned to look at where the projection of Rose was standing. ‘Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose; have a fantastic life.’

Yaz stared up at them both. There was something strangely calm about the face of that Doctor. In the face of presumably overwhelming odds, they were still calm, asking nothing other than that Rose be safe and happy.

Which would have been fine, if it didn’t remind Yaz of what her own Doctor had done.

‘You can’t do this me,’ Rose exclaimed, her voice cracking. ‘Take me back! Take me back!’

The holograms of the other Doctor and Rose disappeared. Yaz sat still for a moment, processing this. The Doctor clearly had always been this self-sacrificing, but that didn’t make her feel any better. She could completely understand Rose’s anger and pain.

‘But what happened to her?’ Yaz said, turning to look at the hologram of her Doctor, which had sat down next to her. ‘Jack mentioned she was living on a parallel world, but that doesn’t explain how she saved the Doctor.’

The hologram of Yaz’s Doctor flickered.

‘Yaz… I can’t tell you. But… please don’t do that. Don’t do what Rose did.’

‘Save you?’ Yaz said. ‘I have to! You’d do the same for me!’

‘That’s why you shouldn’t,’ replied the hologram, looking terrified. ‘Please… just forget me.’

The hologram turned off.

‘Not bloody likely!’ Yaz exclaimed, jumping to her feet. ‘You’re my Doctor and I will save you!’

The TARDIS console gave a groan from behind her, and a panel opened. Yaz turned, getting onto her knees. She looked into the streaming light that emanated out of the opening. Her heart seemed to beat in her ears, and her mouth fell open gently. The TARDIS spoke to her.

She saw the past. She saw the present. And she saw the future. She saw it all.

 *

 ‘Forced regeneration,’ the Master said, staring at the Doctor. ‘The time lords even did it to you once, didn’t they? That’s how you ended up as that dandy with the white curly hair-’

The Doctor’s brain was scarcely able to process this, before she automatically startled. The noise… that noise!

Was that-

‘TARDIS materialising!’ shrieked the Dalek commander.

The Master swung round.

‘Bah! You cannot escape, Doctor!’

The doors of the TARDIS slammed open, and a bright light exploded out of it. It was so dazzling that it was almost blinding.

Yaz was stood in the doorway, her eyes glowing.

The Doctor felt as if both her hearts had stopped. No… no, not again…

Yaz floated off the ground and soared across the room, coming to a stop in front of the Doctor. With a crash, the constraints around the Doctor fell to the floor. She staggered forward.

‘Yaz!’ she cried. ‘What have you done?’

‘The TARDIS called to me…’ Yaz said, her voice strangely ghostlike, as if speaking from a point faraway. ‘And we looked into each other…’

‘Yaz, you looked into the time vortex!’ The Doctor collapsed to the floor by Yaz’s feet. She stared up at her friend. ‘No-one’s supposed to see that!’

‘What is this?’

The Master was staring at Yaz, his face contorted with a horrified expression, as if every fabric of his being was telling him to run. Run far away as fast as he possibly could.

He pointed the gun at Yaz, and fired.

The Doctor screamed, but the lazar halted in mid-air as Yaz turned to look at it. The lazar was forced back, back into the gun, which exploded in the Master’s hand.

‘Bad Wolf…’ Yaz said. ‘Yes, that’s what she called herself…’

‘Yaz, please!’ The Doctor cried, ‘You’ve got to stop this; you need to stop this now! You’ve got the entire time vortex running through your brain! You’re gonna-’

‘I want you safe,’ Yaz said, and for a moment the light faded from her eyes, and her voice became like Yaz again. Tears began to trail down her cheeks. ‘My Doctor. Safe.’

‘You cannot defeat me!’ spat the Master, clutching his injured hand. ‘I am a Time Lord; I am far beyond your-’

‘You are tiny!’ Yaz said, her eyes glowing once again as she turned to look at him. ‘I can see the whole of time and space; every atom of your existence, and I will not have you hurt my Doctor anymore!’

With this, she raised a hand, and the Master was thrown back several feet. He hit the wall, which collapsed around him, covering him with rubble.

The nearest Dalek sent forth a beam of deadly energy, but Yaz raised her other hand, sending the energy back into the Dalek, which exploded. The very particles of every Dalek and Cyberman in the room began to dissolve, leaving nothing behind. Soon enough, Yaz and the Doctor were alone in the room.

‘Yaz, you’ve done it…’ the Doctor said. ‘Now stop.’

Yaz did not respond.

‘Yaz… please! Just let go!’

Yaz did not respond.

‘Yaz, you can’t control the universe like this! No-one can!’

‘I… I know,’ Yaz said, and the light faded again from her eyes. ‘But… it hurts, Doctor. It’s gonna kill me. How can I…’

‘You’re Yasmin Khan,’ the Doctor said. ‘You can do anything. It wouldn’t be the universe without Yasmin Khan.’

‘Please… help me.’

The Doctor stood up and wrapped her arms around Yaz. Yaz’s arms reach around her, and the two of them embraced tightly.

‘Always will.’

Slowly, the Doctor took on part of the vortex energy, feeling it coursing through her like a conduit. Yaz slowly settled against her, as if a great weight was being lifted off the young Yorkshirewoman’s shoulders.

The power, showing as more of the light, slowly drifted away, flying back through the doors of the TARDIS. Eventually, when all of it had returned, the light faded and the doors slowly swung closed.

Yaz and the Doctor stumbled.

‘You did it,’ the Doctor said. ‘Yaz, you did it; you saved me.’

Yaz smiled, tears still running down her face.

‘Couldn’t have a universe without the Doctor, could we?’

Without thinking, the Doctor leaned forward, just as Yaz did the same. Their lips met.

The Doctor wished the circumstances could have been better. The two of them were both exhausted and drained, scarcely able to stand up. But she found it difficult to care. All she knew was that she should have kissed Yaz a long time ago. If she’d been braver, she would have been honest with Yaz from the start. But she knew as well as anyone that it was no good to think about what could have been. All you could do was make the best of the time you had. And that’s what she was doing.

Slowly, they broke apart, and the Doctor was dimly aware of falling gently against Yaz. The young woman lifted the Doctor off the ground and into her arms, carrying her softly towards the waiting doors of the TARDIS.

The Doctor slowly drifted out of consciousness, her sole thought being that Yaz was safe.

 *

 The Doctor startled, and sat up.

She was lying on the floor of the console room.

‘Ah, you’re up.’

Yaz was stood next to the console, a wide smile on her face.

‘How long was I…’

‘A while,’ Yaz replied, taking a few steps towards her and helping the Doctor to her feet. ‘Long enough for me to stop and pick up Tegan, Ace, Graham and Kate; they all send their regards by the way.’

‘You dropped them off home?’

‘Yeah. Well… Croydon, so near enough.’

The Doctor chuckled, before staring into Yaz’s eyes.

‘You… you saved me.’

Yaz shrugged.

‘You would have done the same for me-’

The Doctor stumbled. Yaz grabbed hold of her.

Clang!

‘Why’s the cloister bell sounding?’ the Doctor gasped, looking around in confusion.

‘Doctor…’ Yaz said, slowly. Her voice was strangely hollow. ‘Look at your hand…’

Slowly, as if moving through treacle, the Doctor looked down at her hand. Time seemed to slow down as she processed the sight that met her eyes. The sight that she had been dreading for longer than she cared to admit. Ever since the she had met personification of time. Perhaps longer, when she had started noticing the way Yaz looked at her. The way that Yaz smiled at her. Because she knew it would cause pain, and she hated that she knew she would be responsible for the pain Yaz would feel.

Regeneration energy was leaking out of the Doctor’s hand.

‘What?’ she gasped, horrified. ‘No… that’s not right! I need more time! I want more-’

But she turned to look at Yaz, and a dagger seemed to go through each of the Doctor’s two hearts.

Yaz was crying.

Tears were streaking down her face, and her mouth was trembling with suppressed sobs.

In that instance, the Doctor forgot about the regeneration, she forget about everything else, everything except Yaz.

‘Yaz…’ she said, softly. She cupped Yaz’s face in her other hand. ‘It’s okay, Yaz… it’s okay…’

Yaz’s breath was ragged, as the sobs threatened to erupt. It broke the Doctors hearts to see her like this. Yaz was indomitable. Again, the Doctor cursed her own bad luck. Yaz deserved better than this. She deserved every happiness. But all the Doctor could give her was a small comfort, knowing full well that the ending was coming soon. That their ending was coming soon.

‘One last trip…’ the Doctor said, softly. ‘Where would you go? What flavour of ice cream?’

Yaz gave out a small, teary laugh. Their eyes met for a moment, and then tears began to slide down the Doctors cheeks too.

‘I did this…’ Yaz mumbled, agonised. ‘I made you take on the power of the time vortex-’

‘Ssshhhh,’ the Doctor said, pressing her forehead against Yaz’s. ‘It was an honour, Yaz. Truly.’

‘You’re dying…’ Yaz sobbed. ‘And it’s my fault…’

‘No; Yaz, none of this is your fault. I wouldn’t let you die. Don’t you remember? Can’t have a universe with no Yaz. I can’t have a universe with no Yaz. I promised I’d keep you safe, and that’s what I’m doing.’

Yaz let out a miserable chuckle, as if responding to a joke the Doctor didn’t think they’d made.

‘So… how about that last ice-cream?’

Yaz sniffed, before smiling.

‘Let me guess; no money?’

‘Empty pockets.’

Yaz chuckled, before putting her arm around the Doctor’s waist.

‘What kind of date are you? C’mon, big head; ice cream is on me.’

And, holding each other, the two of them headed out of the TARDIS doors.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; hope you enjoyed this fic!

[pony-central]

Love at First Bite 1 - The Full Story

A dumb story about a unicorn and a human having a relationship (don't ask why, or else you will pay).

Nathan Files wakes up to the sound of his alarm clock ringing. He is seen on his mattress with his new girlfriend(Naughty PonyCentral), who is dozing off. His alarm blares quite loudly, as he turns it off. He then wakes up his GF and tells her that the landlord is on his way soon. Naughty PonyCentral gets excited and they both share a passionate kiss before Nathan goes to get his bathrobe. He exits the room, and is caught off-guard by Baxter Wow (BF WOW). Baxter asks Nathan how he and Naughty PonyCentral met each other. This gets us to the start of the flashback.

The flashback begins with Past Nathan walking in on his ex-girlfriend cheating on him with the Hidden Files SpongeBob. Nathan eventually left her due to his anger. He then heads to the park where, surprise surprise, he sees Naughty PonyCentral. Nathan's face goes pink; he's fallen in love with her! How nice. He offers her a seat next to him, as she asks him if he's ever played "The Kissing Game". The unicorn then decides to give him a kiss, as he becomes smitten. The duo then settle for going to Taco Bell.

After they finish their Taco Bell meal, Naughty PonyCentral asks Nathan if he wants to go to her place. He agrees, and they head to her home. Running up the stairs, Naughty PonyCentral decides to take Nathan to her room for alone time. But, before they can do anything, he says that she's rushing through it, and suggests they watch some TV.

While watching SpongeBob, Naughty PonyCentral gets a phone call from her mum, saying that she's due to go to Spain soon. After dropping the phone in disappointment, Naughty PonyCentral starts crying.

Nathan is seen comforting Naughty PonyCentral, who wouldn't stop crying. He asks her what's wrong, and she explains everything. Nathan gets mad and decides to call Naughty PonyCentral's mum. He does, and he starts swearing up a storm. At the halfway point of Nathan swearing and screaming at NPC's mum, Naughty PonyCentral gets angry and shoots a red beam of magic straight through the roof of the apartment.

The next day, Naughty PonyCentral and Nathan Files have an intervention with NPC's mum. Nathan and Naughty PonyCentral's mum get into a heated argument, and Naughty PonyCentral gets angry again, destroying the roof with her magic. Oh, my God! She storms upstairs and starts crying again after Nathan comes in to calm her down.

Once Naughty PonyCentral had calmed down and her mum had to leave before any more damage was inflicted onto the house, she asks Nathan what they would do. Nathan has an idea, and holds a green square packet in his hand. You probably already know where this is going.

The next day, Nathan wonders if Naughty PonyCentral is pregnant yet. She says no. A short montage okays, with the duos various attempts of producing a child, none of which work. Until one day where Naughty PonyCentral discovered that her stomach has a bulge. She notices, but doesn't say anything, and goes for a bath. Until she discovers that her lower half was in pain. She feels something coming out, and she decides to push the pain away. After a while, she sees something floating to the top of the bathtub. She picks it up, and it is revealed that she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She names the baby Natasha and hugs it.

Nathan rushes into the bathroom and sees Naughty PonyCentral holding the baby. He gets excited and hugs his girlfriend. Then, she decides to get him and herself something to enjoy. Thsi being Boyfriend's Donut Stash (Shh, don't tell him). The story ends with a PSA.

[poeticmindsemporium]

The Weir

The Weir

Down the lane, not far from home

A place where many children roam

There is a house that stands alone

Built in wonderful Dorset stone

By the side a river runs by

Winding, flowing, water level quite high

A footpath winds along by its side

Although the river is quite wide

On a bend, next to the house, a weir

Gushes water, fairly near

To the footpath where the children walk

Sometimes forgetful as they talk

Little Jenny Mayweather, just our years old

Walking with her mum, wrapped up warm against the cold

Was skipping and dancing near the river behind a hedge

And approached the weir too near the edge

Tripped and fell over the side

Her Mum screaming realising she may have died

Taken by the water, at this point, a gushing, raging pool

But just by chance Tommy Blenkinsopp , on his way home from school

Heard the screams and ran, hearing Jenny’s name

To the point from whence the sound came

Seeing the girl going under the water for the last time

Raced to the edge and dived straight in, double quick time

With no thought to his own safety at all

He went under the water, like a cannon ball

Hearing the screams further help came and found

Mum shouting, she’s in the water, my god she’s drowned

As onlookers waited with baited breath on the bank

May realising what had happened their hearts sank

But just then Tommy surfaced with little Jenny under his arm

As the police arrived, someone had raised the alarm

Though not moving, she was saved by Tommy’s selfless act

Lucky for Jenny, he was the first to react

As they were dragged from the weir everyone cheered

As Jenny opened her eyes coughing and spluttering

Tommy walked away under his breath just muttering

About how stupid it was to walk by the weir

That someone would fall in was people’s greatest fear

Jenny’s mum looked round to thank Tommy Blenkinsopp

But he had walked away down to the village shop

Where his mum and dad ran the store

And soaking wet walked through the door

His mum went mad, what have you done

Thinking he had got soaked out having fun

Just then P C Jones walked through the door

As his Mum and Dad gave him what for

NO, No said P C Jones, he saved the day

Lucky for little Jenny he had walked home that way

Everyone by now had reached the door

And little Jenny stood in the door

A big smile upon her face

And cheers rang out all over the place

A life was saved thanks to Tommy’s brave act

And Jenny’s mum was thankful that’s a fact

So now there’s a fence along the pathway

To stop anything like this happening another day

And Tommy and Jenny, well guess what happened in later years

They fell in love, were married, many of the guests in tears

Because they remembered the day that Jenny nearly drowned

And how lucky it was Tommy was around

They lived happy ever after and that’s a fact

Just shows what can happen if you react

Quickly to any given incident

And forward thinking can prevent

Accidents from happening, like the message this one is sending

So always keep this thought in mind, not always is there a happy ending

[finerllines]

love, charlie [bestfriend!au]

a/n: i am very excited to be finally posting this fic!!! was not intending to post this in parts but it was getting really long and i got a little stuck with how i wanna write the next bit :P but i hope you guys like this one, please give me any feedback you have and if you have any ideas/things you want to see please send them my way!!! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

summary: (bestfriend & love rosie!au) charlie has never kept a secret from harry before and having a baby while he was in america is a really big secret. turns out, a positive reaction from harry might be a bit scarier than a negative one.

wc: 10.7k+

cw: just fluff, oc is a single mum

next part

///

Every muscle in Charlie’s body is screaming at her. She is tired, no doubt about it, but she can’t rest yet. Not when toys are still scattered all around the living room floor from that afternoon’s tummy time. Not when the pile of clean laundry demanding to get folded just grows bigger and bigger every day. Not when she is running low on frozen breast milk and still needs to pump a good couple of millilitres.

She leans back against the couch, letting her head tilt back and her eyes close momentarily. It’ll just be a little rest, then she’ll sit back up and get to tidying. Just as she is about to slip into unconsciousness, harsh raps on the door causes her to jolt up with alarm.

Panic creeps up her neck as she eyes the door cautiously. It is nearing 11pm and she isn’t expecting anyone. So, who the hell is demanding to be let in? Holding her breath and tiptoeing her way to the door, she slowly looks through the peep hole hoping that her fear is unfounded.

When she makes out who it is, she releases the breath she was holding and immediately undoes the chain on the door.

“Harry? What’s happening?”

Behind the door is Harry, her best friend that she hasn’t seen in over a year because he was busy touring and making movies while she dropped to the bottom of the food chain by becoming a single mother. Instead of the joyful reunion she envisioned that they would have at his welcome home dinner happening tomorrow, they each remain on either side of the door, silently looking at each other with furrowed brows (although hers connoted confusion while Harry looked furious).

“I –,” he starts before pausing to take another deep breath. “Can I come in?”

With a nod, Charlie steps to the side letting him in, re-chaining the door under the assumption that Harry would just stay over like he usually would this late. Right as they were about to enter the living room she freezes on the spot, remembering the mess that is still there. As if reading her mind, Harry stops and turns to face her with an expectant raised eyebrow.

“Before we sit down is there something you want to tell me?”

“Uh … well I, um.”

“Something that might have happened while I was away?” he asks through a clenched jaw.

Charlie starts picking her fingers nervously. “No. Why don’t we go up to my room because –“

Before she could finish, he whips around and charges into her living room. He pauses, eyes scanning the room, taking in everything. Then, he turns to face her with a glare that is almost murderous.

“What’s all this then? Babysitting?”

She suddenly can’t breathe.

“Harry this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Tell me!” he shouts with fists clenched tightly by his side.

At the suddenly raising of his voice Charlie flinches and squeezes her eyes shut. When she does open her eyes, she can’t bring them to look at the hurt etched all over his features, so they remain glued to the floor. He lets out a deep breath and runs his hands over his face.

“Sorry for yelling, I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” he mumbles.

Neither of them make eye contact.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she whispers shakily after a beat of silence.

“So, it’s true?”

She nods, eyes still trained on her feet, ashamed to look him in the eye. They had never kept secrets, especially not something this big. She hurt him and she knows it.

“How’d you find out?” she asks meekly.

“Mum let it slip. Said I should come round to see how y’baby is doing.” He sees how hard Charlie is chewing on her inner lip. His expression and voice soften. “Can I see them?”

She nods silently again. He follows her up the stairs and feels himself growing nervous as she quietly opens a room door and gestures for him to go in. When he catches sight of the tiny girl in the cot, his breath catches. He takes a moment to watch her, fascinated by the way her chest moves up and down with each breath of air.

“She’s so little.” He lets out a shaky breath. “She’s perfect.”

“Her name’s Rory.”

“Rory,” Harry repeats under his breath, eyes still glued to her.

Charlie remains silent, trying to decipher how Harry feels. He’s mad at her, she knows that much, but that she can take, she just can’t stand the thought of Harry being upset at Rory, the innocent bystander in this betrayal.

When he’s had his fill, he turns to face her with watery eyes.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Another beat of silence passes. “Do you want to back to the living room. I’ll tell you everything, promise.”

With Harry seated on her sofa, Charlie buys herself more time by brewing them some tea. She is scared, terrified. If she had gone for a year then come back to find out that Harry had a child, she wouldn’t know how to feel.

They take tentative sips from their mugs, neither knowing where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I – I didn’t know how to.”

“No? We spoke to each other at least once a week the whole time I was gone. You didn’t think to bring it up then.” The spite in his voice is evident.

She feels tears welling in her eyes, so she takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “It’s not something I can just bring up on a Tuesday is it.”

“But we tell each other everything. We trust each other, right?”

“Harry, of course I trust you. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

His brows pinched in confusion. “How could you ever disappoint me? I love you Charlie, we promised each other we will always be in each other’s lives. I don’t make promises like that with just everyone.”

“I know, but you’re off being a rockstar while I’m still stuck in Holmes Chapel getting knocked up by some guy who didn’t even want to stick around. It’s embarrassing. Mum and dad could barely look me in the eye when they first saw me with Rory. I can’t go to the supermarket without people giving me pitiful looks. I used to a woman with ambition, everyone used to tell me I should take my talents to the city and not waste my time here. And now I’m just the woman who got left behind. I’m 27 for goodness sake, and I still feel like they all look at me like an irresponsible 16 year old.”

Charlie could barely get the last couple of words out before tears overtook her, burying her head in her hands.

She takes a big gulp of air and tries to find her voice. “I was going to tell you I promise. I wasn’t going to hide Rory forever. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you over the phone. Not when you were so excited about everything you were doing. I can’t be the one to keep bringing bad news.”

Harry immediately moves over to tug her shaking form into his chest, resting his head on top of hers to try and comfort her. His heart hurt. All of this must have been building up inside her since who knows when, and he hates the thought of his best friend being ashamed of herself, ashamed for being a mother of all things.

“It’s not embarrassing. You’re not embarrassing. You’re the rockstar if anything, moving on and staying strong for Rory when the person who is supposed to be there for you let you down. And this is not bad news, okay. This is great fucking news. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, we get a new person to love.”

Thinking about the man who left her and Rory stirs up ugly feelings inside of him. Fucking Richard. He’s hated Richard ever since he met him. Back then, he forced himself to be polite and cordial because all he had to blame for his hatred was his juvenile jealousy and possessiveness. But now, now he has a valid reason to hate the prick.

When Charlie’s breath evens out, he gently cups her face in his hands and looks her directly in her eyes.

“You are the most incredible woman. I never want to her you talk shit about yourself ever again. Fuck everyone. Fuck Richard for being too much of an idiot to see that the universe was trying to help him out by giving him a reason to tie you down. Fuck everyone in this town for making you feel less than. If you ever forget how much you kick ass, you call me. You call me and I will do everything in my power to remind you.”

Tears start building in her eyes once again. Just as Charlie was about to start speaking, a loud cry is heard from the nursery. Like mother like daughter.

“She’s probably hungry, let me feed her quickly.”

Charlie gets up and wipes under her eyes, then goes to the kitchen to make a bottle. When she starts making her way up the stairs, she notices that Harry is trailing behind her.

“I want to watch, if that’s okay,” he explains in response to her quizzical look.

She smiles softly and nods.

In the nursery, Harry feels like a stranger. He stands by the door watching as Charlie picks the baby up and cradles her.

“Hi Rory, are you a hungry baby hmm?”

Charlie expertly uncaps the bottle with one hand and gently directs the nipple of the bottle between Rory’s lips. The little girl hungrily drinks the milk, looking up at her mother with her wide, innocent eyes.

Noticing that Harry is still standing up the door, Charlie gestures him over with her head. He tentatively positions himself over her shoulder and he observes Rory in awe. The little girl’s eyes focus on the strange man behind her mother, and when she makes direct eye contact with him, he can’t help but smile. He gives her a little wave and is almost brought to tears when Rory gives him a gummy smile.

He completely understands why Charlie didn’t tell him. He’d be scared to share something so precious, especially since everyone else in her life seems to not appreciate what a gift Rory is. She was protecting herself. And as much as he hates that she felt like she needed to be protected from him, he knows that he can’t fault her.

Charlie breaks the silence. “She likes you already.”

“You think?” The smile in his voice is audible.

“Mmhmm. She doesn’t see a lot of men so she usually doesn’t smile at them, but she can’t stop smiling at you now.”

Harry decides not to focus on the implication that neither Charlie’s father nor Rory’s father had bothered to see her, but rather on the assurance that the little girl has taken a liking to him. Because he loves her, he was a goner the moment he saw her tiny form sleeping in her cot.

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he watches Charlie wiggle the farts out of Rory, making little funny noises to make her laugh. The fondness in both of their eyes makes his heart swell with love and admiration. His best friend is the strongest woman to ever exist. Despite the shitty situation, she found enough love in her heart to care for Rory.

If there was ever any doubt that Harry was head over heels in love with Charlie, it was definitely gone now. He can’t be more in love with her if he tried.

Once Rory went back to sleep, they return to their spots on the sofa with a lot less tension between them this time. They fall into a comfortable chat about what he did in LA and the first time Rory stood up by herself.

When their conversation trials off, he takes the opportunity to ask, “Who’s Rory’s godfather?”

“Oh,” she didn’t expect that, “I didn’t ask anyone. I was so overwhelmed and busy with everything that it didn’t even occur to me.”

“Can I be her godfather?” he asks timidly.

“You want to be her godfather?” He nods. “You would’ve been first choice obviously, but you already have so many godchildren I didn’t know if you had space for one more,” she laughs gently trying to make a joke.

The joke is lost on Harry because he says seriously, “I’ll always have space for you, which means that I’ll always have space for Rory.”

She reaches over to take his hand.

“I know H, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything I just, didn’t want to assume. But I’d love for you to be her godfather. I can’t think of anyone more perfect.”

A beautiful smile appears on his face.

“Thank you,” he whispers, bringing her hands up to his face to press little kisses on each of her knuckles. “I’ll take care of her and love her, I promise. She’s stolen my heart already.”

“I know you will. Thank you for always being here for me, loving me in whatever state you find me.”

He pulls her into a hug again. He can almost feel her heart beating with how close they are.

“I’m always going to love you. I’m always going to take care of you. It’ll take more than a cute little girl to drive me away.”

When the tears dry up and their breaths even out, Harry downs his cup of tea and starts helping Charlie fold laundry. In their over 10 years of friendship the most domestic thing they have done together is cook a meal and put away dishes. Now, watching Harry hum to himself and coo at each baby onesie, causes a strange feeling to wash over her. She thinks doing chores wouldn’t be so bad if she always had him alongside her. He folds every piece of laundry without hesitation – shirts, jeans, socks, underwear, everything – as if he has done this a hundred times before.

He just fits in to her life, even though this life is still new to her, and he has only been back a day. And she loves it. It’s always comforting to know that the distance between them has never altered their relationship in anyway. But as she feels her heart rate quicken at the sight of Harry smiling down at a ‘Mummy’s favourite monkey’ onesie, she fears that this feeling might have creeped into dangerous territory.

-

Charlie is not a shut in, but she’s definitely a homebody. Rory has served as an excellent excuse to bail out of events and invites from friends, saving her from putting on a brave face in front of everyone when she feels lousy and doesn’t want to feel insecure about her nursing bra or compression socks.

Unfortunately, there is no real way for her to hide behind Rory tonight because she knows that Harry would immediately ditch his own party to come check up on them. So, she puts on her big girl pants (ie., the ones without an elasticated waistband) and throws on a sweater from her pre-pregnancy days and heads for the train station once the babysitter arrived.

She hasn’t been a in restaurant like this in a while, not since Harry’s last party, so she feels even more out of the place than she usually would. They don’t really have Japanese fusion restaurants with menus without prices in Holmes Chapel. She looked up the menu of the restaurant beforehand to hopefully look less clueless around Harry’s London friends, but as she catches sight of the table full of sequined pants, berets, and suits, she realises that it’s a lost cause. She can’t believe that she put on her heeled sandal thinking that it would elevate her pants and sweater to something dressy enough. The little bugger told her there wasn’t a dress code. He clearly failed to consider the implicit dress code that comes with being a part of Harry Styles’ party.

The first person to spot her is Kevin, their primary school classmate that moved to Brighton. He waves her over with a smile and shuffles over to make room for her in their little corner of ‘Holmes Chapel friends’.

She likes Harry’s London friends, she just doesn’t like how she always comes away feeling a little sorry for herself, reminded of how Harry has built a name for himself and moved on to bigger and brighter things. And this makes her long-standing teenage crush on him even more pathetic. The Harry she fell in love with was the 15 year old boy who would walk her home after their shifts at the bakery and would share his dreams of becoming a singer with when they would lie side by side on his bed, listening to Gemma’s CDs. When it’s just them, she sometimes feels like that boy is still there, like it is completely reasonable for her heart to skip a beat when he gives her cheeky smiles and holds her hand. With everyone else though, she feels foolish to still hold on to their old memories, for not buying the image and brand that he has created.

To Harry’s credit, he’s never rubbed his wealth in her face or made her feel less than. He always invites her to every show, party, and event in London, even offering to pay for her trip if she needs him to. At first, she took him up on every offer, which young adult would turn down a chance to go to an invite only club or a show at the O2. But the novelty of everything faded after a few years. Any excitement or adrenaline always got outweighed by how drained she would feel after hanging out in big crowds and being escorted around by security and personnel. Sure, she might feel a little left out when she sees the fun stories and photos from their nights out. But Harry would pop round to hers when he was visiting family, and all would be right again.

Harry is in the middle of a conversation when Charlie arrives. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kevin pull her into a side hug and say something that makes her blush and smile shyly.

That’s a good thing, he tells himself, it’s good that she’s comfortable. She made the effort to get a babysitter and travel to London, so she deserves to enjoy herself. He’s just slightly resentful that Kevin gets her attention for the night. Just as he forces himself to stop eavesdropping on their conversation, he hears Kevin ask something that puts a sour taste in his mouth.

“Little Rory’s with a babysitter?” Kevin asks casually.

Charlie nods with an affirmative hum, not batting an eyelid.

His blood goes cold.

Kevin knows about Rory. He knew before me.

-

When the group thins out towards the end of the meal to go to the bathroom or check out the bar next door, Harry slides in next to Charlie and bumps into her playfully to get her to look up from her phone.

“Hey, sorry I’m just checking in on the babysitter. Thanks for inviting me, the food was really good.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. This is the first time I’ve travelled without Rory, so my mum anxiety is a little high. I trust Kate to call me if anything is wrong, but I think I’m going to catch the last train tonight. I probably won’t be able to stay awake past 11pm anyway so I’ll take off when you guys head to the bar.”

“You didn’t want to leave Rory with your parents?” As soon as the question leaves his mouth, he immediately regrets it.

“Um, they are a little lukewarm about the whole pregnancy thing. And my neighbour’s daughter has been helping me babysit for a while now, so.” She punctuates her sentence with a closed lip smile and small shrug.  

“Speaking of meeting Rory,” Harry changes the subject, “I uh, I didn’t realise that Kevin and Samantha know about her. Y’know, since they don’t live in Holmes Chapel anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I bump into friends’ parents at the supermarket. A lot of them hear about Rory from them.”

He nods. “Right, that’s the good thing about –“

“Hey man, we got a table at the bar, c’mon.”

Before he can tell his friends that he’ll join them in a minute, Charlie is already adjusting her purse over her shoulder and looking for a ride.

“Thanks again for inviting me, come say hi the next time you visit Anne.”

Harry stands with her and accepts her hug goodbye, hands maybe a bit lower than what would be considered platonic.

“Y’sure you don’t want to join us? You can stay at mine tonight, and I’ll catch the train home with you tomorrow morning if you want. Then I’ll get to see Rory too,” he says with his face buried in her hair.

“It’s okay, Harry. I’ll be worrying too much to be any fun and I’m ready for bed.”

“Then … remember to text me when you board and when you reach home, yeah.”

She promises with a smile. That’s her best friend. The boy who never let her go home alone when they went on nights out as teens, and when he moved away, he would demand selfies from her bedroom instead of just texts as proof of her safety.

With one last wave, Harry watches as she climbs into her taxi, letting out a long and wistful sigh when the cab goes out of sight. He misses her already. He misses her and his god daughter. As he leans back against his seat in the bar and sips on brandy, he lets his mind wander.

He imagines going home at the end of the night to little Rory asleep in her cot and Charlie with wet hair and glasses sat under the duvet waiting for him. He imagines rocking Rory to sleep and rubbing Charlie’s back to help her relax after a long day at work. Worst of all, he imagines giving Rory little pecks around her chubby face, then pressing his mouth to Charlie’s, kissing her long and slow.

Before meeting Rory, these little fantasies that he would indulge gets chalked up to lust, even if the fantasy is something mundane like painting their nails together. But now, they are so undeniably domestic that he can’t lie to himself anymore. 

As he makes his way home for the night, he pulls out his phone to start moving meetings around, determined to spend more than a weekend with Charlie the next time.

-

Any idea why a box full of baby clothes and shoes from Gucci got delivered to my house?

No clue, lucky you. Do they fit? xx

Harry.

Charlie. xx

They’re a little big but she’ll grow into them. Thank you. You really didn’t need to get her anything, let alone stuff from Gucci.

Hmm, it might take a while for her to grow into those green flares though. You might need to wear them in the meantime, so moths don’t eat the fabric. xx

Very subtle Styles. It’s too expensive please let me send it back.

It’s a belated baby shower gift, you can’t send it back. xx

You are supposed to buy stuff for the baby, not the mum.

I don’t need an excuse to buy my god daughter nice things. You, however, refuse everything I offer. Please keep them, I know you’ll love them once you try them on. xx

Fine.

Yaaaay! We can match when we go out next time. Send me pics of Rory in the clothes! xx

This is the third package he has sent: the first was a package of children’s’ books from the local bookstore; the second was some custom TWPK baby clothes; and this third package is by far the most extravagant and unnecessary.

He has always loved spoiling people. Be it resizing one of his thousand dollar rings for her because she once mentioned in passing how much she liked it or offering to pay for her plumbing to be redone when he found out her walls were filling with water and her bathroom was growing mould. She knows that this is his way of supporting her since they rarely see each other, he likes helping her with things around the house especially, it makes him feel normal and homey.

When she is the object of his generosity, she will more often than not decline, but now that he is buying things for Rory, she can’t say no. Part of her still feels guilty for not telling him that she was expecting. He missed a potential baby shower, her delivery, and Rory’s first birthday. The forlorn look in his eye and his sad smile when she showed him a video of Rory shoving her birthday cupcake into her face was unmissable. She replayed the video for him twice before he asked if he could have the video in a soft voice.

No one has been this excited about Rory before. Admittedly, she hasn’t really let anyone into her new mum life, so no one has had the chance to. Save for a select few, all the photos and videos she takes of Rory are for her eyes only. They were for her to scroll through and get teary eyed over whenever she feels upset about how quickly Rory is growing out of her clothes. They were for her to feel like she has someone to share Rory with, continuing to capture cute moments as if someone else was missing out.

But there is no one else. It’s just Charlie and Rory, Rory and Charlie. Well, for right now it might be Charlie, Rory, and Harry. The part of her brain that remembers his scent and the timbre of his voice tells her to relax and embrace it. Harry being a part of their lives makes sense.

It makes sense to send him photos of Rory with her breakfast smeared all over her cheeks.

It makes sense to update him on what new foods Rory has started to eat.

It makes sense to send him videos of Rory trying to walk on her wobbly legs, only to inevitably plop down on her diapered butt.

But the part of her brain that remembers that they are only in the same town for a couple weeks a year warns her to not let either Harry or Rory get too attached. Rory is just one of his many godchildren, and she is one of his many best friends. Realistically, once Harry goes back to work full time, his godfatherly duties is going to be reduced to a birthday gift in the mail and a couple of video calls a week. The smart thing to do would be to establish the boundaries now so that no one has to yearn or miss or ache.

I’m going to visit Mum next week and I thought that I could stay with you and help out with Rory. It’ll be for about two weeks. Will that be okay? xx

Fuck. So much for that.

-

Watching Harry move into her house does strange things to Charlie’s heart. Moving in is an exaggeration, he just has a duffle and its only for two weeks. Still, seeing him hang up his coats and display his toiletries has her imagination going wild.

After much arguing, he finally agreed to take over her bedroom while she sets up the sofa bed in Rory’s room. As persuasive as he was in trying to convince Charlie that he does not mind being roommates with a one year old baby, she knows that despite how much he says he loves children, he is definitely not prepared to take care of Rory throughout the night for two weeks.

She wonders if Harry does this for all his godchildren. Has he offered to be a live in nanny for any of his other friends? Does he look at his other godchildren like they hold the moon and the stars in their eyes? Because if he looks at your child the way that he is looking at Rory right now, you will definitely fall in love.

The moment he deposited his bag in his room, he washed his hands then skipped back into the living room to lift Rory out of her highchair and pop her onto his hip. With a small, satisfied smile affixed onto his face he trots back to his room and lays the baby on bed tummy side down, as if he has done a thousand times before. Incredibly, Rory doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t whine, fuss, or seem at all bothered by this new, tall man carrying her around. In fact, she seems quite happy to be in Harry’s arms, smiling and clapping her little hands together when she gets lifted up, enjoying being up this high for the first time.

Charlie feels like a creep as she silently observes the scene before her. She has to bite down on her lower lip to suppress a smile, feeling oddly moved by how comfortable they are with each other. When she let Harry into the house, she didn’t expect him to feel to at home immediately. Sure, he’s been over a million times before and he knows where everything in the kitchen is kept, but he hasn’t spent a lot of time in her bedroom, and he’s only met Rory once a week ago.

She also didn’t expect Rory to be so at home with Harry. The last time they met, Rory’s attention was split between him and her bottle. Yet now, she babbles and giggles with Harry just as she would with her mum. And there is something so attractive about his confidence with Rory. Picking her up without hesitation, tickling her belly to make her laugh, and speaking to her as if she is an adult.

“Isn’t this one pretty, monkey?” he asks as he holds up a ring in front of her. “This one isn’t too chunky so it shouldn’t hurt if I pick you up with it on. And the ruby is a pretty colour, huh. I only brought chokers just in case you are a yanker. Are you a yanker little monkey?”

Everyone knows that hot man, plus child, equals swooning. What Charlie isn’t prepared for is hot man, plus your child, equals your ovaries exploding.

“Can I give you a kiss, monkey?” The question is directed at Rory, but Harry’s eyes are trained on Charlie.

This man is asking for consent to kiss her baby. As if he couldn’t get hotter.

“Go ahead. She’s super cuddly and affectionate. She loves kisses.”

His eyes light up and his mouth opens to let out a playful gasp. “This little monkey loves kisses,” he says, punctuating each word with a kiss to her cheeks. “Good thing Uncle Harry loves kisses too.”

She doesn’t fight the smile that is heavy with affection from growing on her face. Uncle Harry. He just might be her first and only uncle. 

“She knows how to give kisses too. If you hold her close to your face and ask for a kissy she’ll give you one. They’re less like a kiss and more like her pressing her slobbery little mouth onto your face though.”

She doesn’t know how, but his eyes grow even wider with delight.

“Can Uncle Harry have a kissy please?” Rory obliges and smushes her open, smiling mouth onto his cheek. “Oh, thank you monkey. You’re so sweet for me aren’t ya?”

As if she understands what he says, Rory starts kicking her little legs and clapping excitedly. Then, she babbles out, “Mama mamamama.”

“You wanna give mummy a kiss?” he asks, shaking her gently to elicit more giggles. “C’mere mummy,” he beckons.

The tightening of her chest when he refers to her as ‘mummy’ is something she did not anticipate.

Sitting opposite them on the bed, Harry turns Rory, who is still being held up by her underarms, and allows Rory to lean forward to press a little kiss onto her cheek. He wears a grin the whole time, smacking his lips together to make a loud “muah”, which makes Rory burst into giggles again.

Still refusing to let go of Rory, Harry starts bouncing her up on and down on the bed to try and expend some of her energy. Charlie can’t stop thinking about how good he is with Rory, and Harry can’t seem to take his eyes off of the baby in his arms.

This domestic bliss lasts longer than Charlie expects. That first night, Harry studies Rory’s bedtime routine as if he is training for a job. He stands behind Charlie watching over her shoulder as she portions out Rory’s dinner, then straps her into her blanket sack to set her down for the night. He even scans the nursery and takes note of the temperature the thermostat is set to and where the baby monitor is placed.

There is no need to know these things since Charlie is sleeping in the nursery, so he will likely never be the one to put Rory to bed. But it feels nice to know that Rory sleeps at 26 degrees. Just like how it feels nice to know that she gets three little kisses from her mum before she gets put down for the night, one on each cheek and one on the forehead.

Charlie definitely catches on to Harry’s eagerness. If he’s home for bedtime, which he always is, she will stand at the foot of the stairs looking at him until he gets up to follow them with a pep in his step. On the third night, she offers to let him read the bedtime story, with Rory tucked into the crook of his elbow. When the adults return to the living room to finish up the chores for the night, a small, contented smile doesn’t leave his face.  

And that’s where they find themselves tonight, about a week into Harry’s stay. On the couch, each nursing a glass of red wine with Pointless playing softly in the background.

“How was the pub with the boys?”

“It was fun. We had a good time and Mrs Calloway’s gravy is always so good.” He takes a sip of wine. “By the way, is it okay if I talk about Rory to other people?”

She turns to face him, resting her cheek against the sofa cushion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like today the boys were asking about how you’re doing, and I was telling them everything is good, and I was going to tell them about how I’m trying to get Rory to say my name and walk to me, but I didn’t know if it’s okay for me to talk about stuff like that or show them videos.”

“You can talk about her and show people photos and stuff. You can post her on Instagram if you want, as long as you don’t show her face.”

“Nah, I don’t want to share her with the world yet. I just got her, I want to keep her to myself for a while more. But when I do get Rory saying my name on video, I will be showing it to everyone.”

Charlie lazily lets out a giggle. “Well, you’ve got a couple more days to squeeze it out of her. I’m still not certain she is saying ‘mama’ and not just babbling.”

“What’d you mean I’ve only got a couple more days? I expect you to give me at least two calls a week with the monkey when I’m gone. And I would hope that you will be talking to her about me every day.”

“Hmm, we’ll see.” She sips her wine with a smirk.

His mouth drops open in mock offense. “Hey, Rory loves me. Once she starts saying my name, she’ll be asking for me all the time.”

“You better to get to work then.”

With lingering smiles, they sip their wine in silence and return their attention to the tv.

After downing his last bit of wine, Harry takes in Charlie’s side profile with a gentle intensity.

Feeling his eyes on her, she asks, “What?”

He shakes his head. “It’s just, you’re doing such a good job raising her, she’s such a happy baby.” His voice is low, almost at a hoarse whisper.

The sincerity in his voice makes her chest tighten. When she told her parents that she was pregnant, she remembers how their lips tightened into a thin line, neither saying a word. The silence was devastating. She wasn’t expecting them to be thrilled, she just hoped they would be a little supportive. They didn’t have to be doting grandparents, she just wanted them to be her parents, to tell her it would be okay and that she would figure out how to be a mother in no time. She certainly didn’t get that from Richard, evident from how his face paled before darting out of her flat without saying a word, only to text her the next day to say that a child would make his anxiety worse, and he had to put his mental health first. Her parents felt like a safety net, parents are supposed to love you unconditionally. If Richard didn’t love her enough to stick around, surely her parents would. Even after their lack of reaction, she remained hopeful. She invited them to see Rory the day after she was born, thinking that they would take one look at Rory and fall completely in love, the way that she had. Of course, that didn’t happen. She was an idiot for thinking it would. She pathetically presented Rory to them with pride, and they just stared at Rory with raised eyebrows, looking at her with suspect. The closest thing to a positive reaction was the terse “Congratulations” they gave as they took their leave.

Yet somehow, all of that didn’t matter anymore. Harry thinks she is a good mum. In one sentence he managed to undo so much hurt from the people who let her down the most.

She clears her throat before saying, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Harry doesn’t ask what’s wrong even though he really wants to. He thought the complement would place a little smile onto her face, put her in a good mood before bed. Instead, Charlie’s brows are knitted together, and her mouth is downturned into the faintest frown, eyes locked onto the plant sitting on the table behind them.

In the short time they’ve spent together he’s discovered that she has suffered a world of hurt and rejection in just a year. It’s unfair. He wishes that she had let him in sooner and allowed him to give her the love and support she deserves from day one.

His insistence on staying with Charlie during his visit was partly due to selfish reasons. Wanting to help her around the house is only partly true. His other main motivation is to try and wiggle his way into her life, to get her to see him as someone who fits in to her new life, as someone she can trust with Rory.

He can’t describe how it felt seeing Rory for the first time. When he looks at her, all he can see is Charlie, the woman he holds so dear to him. It feels different. More. From the first time he picked Rory up, everything just felt so easy. There was no thinking twice or second guessing. Rory is meant to be in his arms. He has never felt a sense of protectiveness so instinctive like this before. It’s scary. But this is a good type of scary he reckons. It must be, because it has led him here, with Charlie and a darling asleep upstairs.

Instead of saying anything more, he wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his chest, kissing the top of her head before tucking her under his chin. When he feels her breaths slow down and her body lean into his, he carefully sets their glasses aside then properly wraps her in his embrace to join her in sleep.

-

“Mmmm, that’s good huh, monkey. Mummy makes good muffins doesn’t she,” Harry coos as he sits in front of Rory’s highchair, breaking off pieces of muffin for her to eat. “We’re going on an adventure today so you gotta finish everything.”

Despite Charlie assuring him that Rory is old enough to eat on her own, Harry would without fail be parked by the highchair and speaking to her as she eats. His favourite bit is when she tries to drink water from her little silicone cup and dumps most of it down her shirt because she still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of drinking out of cups. Even though this happens every day at every mealtime, Harry always films it and either makes a little accompanying sound effects or offers his own commentary.

Rory loves the attention. She is never camera shy, always showing off her growing teeth in a wide smile and clapping along to Harry’s laughter. Charlie has no clue where her daughter got this bubbly personality from because neither parent is much of a performer, but she loves it.

They are taking advantage of the nice weather and going on a walk to the local farmers’ market before going to Anne’s for lunch. The good thing about a small town is that Harry doesn’t get followed or photographed as much and the past few times Harry has brought Rory to the park they have been left alone. So, Charlie feels optimistic about not having the safety of the car.

Picking Rory’s outfit has become Harry’s daily duty. Today, he has her dressed in a flowery white sundress with matching white booties and a little straw sunhat. As per usual, he makes sure to take a bunch of photos in her little outfit, adding to the growing collection that he has amassed over the past week.

“So nice of you to finally stop hogging my daughter,” she quips when he passes Rory into her.

“Hey, you’ve had her all to yourself for over a year. And at the end of this week, I will only get to see her through the phone.”

“I know, I’m kidding. She’s probably sick of seeing my mug every day so I’m sure she loves having you around.”

As much as she complains about living in a small town by the country, it’s days like this that she remembers why she decided to stay, and not look for a higher paying job in a city. Feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her face as she sips an iced coffee is simply heaven.

The charm of a farmers’ market never wears off. She loves picking out the most misshapen loaf of bread, choosing the wonkiest fruits, and sampling all the homemade jams and spreads to find a unique one to add to her assortment at home. Now that she’s a familiar face at this market, the stallholders she visits every week usually has some sort of treat for Rory and she makes sure to pull back the visor on the stroller to let everyone coo and make faces at the baby.

After spending around an hour just walking around and talking to people, they park their bags and stroller by a bench to let Rory play on the nearby grass patch. She is trying to wean off the morning nap, so any sort of stimulation is good to stop her from drifting to sleep in her stroller.  

Charlie keeps a close eye on Rory as Harry follows her around the grass, ready to catch and prop her back up when her legs get tired. Ever curious, Rory immediately makes her way to join the other children and every time a dog walks past, she starts pointing and bouncing on the spot to signal that she wants to be carried to pet the dog.

While Charlie takes her eyes off the pair for a minute to pack their groceries neatly into her tote, she notices that a few girls have stopped near her and started to whisper to each other furiously. They are fans of Harry, she assumes. Even though they haven’t taken any photos or started filming, her mum instincts can’t help but kick in.

She walks to Harry as casually as possible to try and not draw any unwanted attention and tugs on his sleeve.  “Hey, I think the girls over there are fans. Let me watch Rory then you can go say hi.”

The girls are polite, thankfully. They ask how his break is going and ask for a selfie each. After which, they wish him well and are ready to leave him be. But as they turn and prepare to go, Harry quickly taps their shoulders and quietly requests that they delete anything they have taken other than the selfies with him and to not post anything online until the end of the day. To his relief, they agree with no issue, and he goes back to his girls a little less worried that Charlie would be mad at him. But he apologises nonetheless.

“Don’t worry about it. Should we start walking to Anne’s? I think Rory is properly tuckered out.”

Anne’s house is a twenty minute walk, but the cool breeze and unobstructed blue sky makes the time fly by. This is the first time Anne will be meeting Rory proper. While she didn’t express anything but excitement when she first met Rory, Charlie can’t help but feel a bit on guard. Thankfully, her fears are unfounded because the door swings open before Harry finishes the third knock and they are greeted by the biggest grin possible.

“Oh, hello darling!” Anne coos, immediately bending down to wave at Rory. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing. Charlie sweetheart, I am so proud of you. My little Charlie is a mother, I can’t believe it.”

Anne steps round the stroller and gives Charlie the tightest squeeze. It happens so quickly that Charlie is almost knocked over by the force of the hug. When she finally registers what’s happening, she tentatively raises her arms to return the gesture.

“Thank you, Anne,” she whispers.

Before Anne pulls away, Charlie pushes down the oncoming tears and schools her features into something more casual, and pleasant.

“Wow, love you too mum.”

In classic mum fashion, she gives his cheek a pinch and says, “God forbid the attention is on someone else for once, huh. It’s nice to see you too, love.”

They get ushered to the back garden where the table has been beautifully set and with all their childhood favourites present. Charlie lags a little behind, slowing taking in the china, the glasses, and the pastel tulips – it’s all quite different to the usual meals that she had at Anne’s growing up.

She doesn’t realise she has been standing and staring until someone gives her elbow a squeeze. Snapping out her reverie, she blinks to see Harry standing in front of her looking concerned.

“You alright love?”

“Umm,” she nods, “I just need to go to the bathroom, help me watch Rory for a bit.”

Not waiting for his response, she makes her way up the stairs and slumping into herself against the locked bathroom door. It’s stupid how overwhelmed she feels. It’s not like Anne had gone above and beyond and catered a huge elaborate meal, it’s just like any other meal she’s had at Anne’s house, just with nicer plates and flowers dotted round. Has she really become so pathetic that a homecooked meal is enough to make her burst into tears? Just as she’s starting to shake off the whole ‘sad single mum’ thing, she’s slapped in the face with how sorry a state she has allowed herself to sink to. In just a year, she managed to push away the those closest to her, leaving her to find comfort in a family that’s not even hers.

She tells herself to get it together, giving her face a quick splash of water to hopefully wash off the self-pity. As she re-joins the rest, she quickly apologises for keeping everyone waiting and immediately engages Anne in a conversation about the food to take the attention off of her.

Each bite of food fills her heart with fondness. There is nothing like a homecooked meal to heal the soul, and god knows it has been ages since she got cooked for. A roast chicken is no match for her mother’s mutton biryani, but right now it’s doing wonders.

When Harry gets stuck into a story from set, her eyes wonder to her daughter who’s sitting in a highchair that Anne dug out from somewhere, happily shoving fistfuls of potato into her mouth. She never wants to see Rory without a smile, and she’s going to get as many homecooked biryanis she wants. In fact, even when she goes to university –

“- Love?”

“Hmm?” Charlie’s eyes snap back to the adults she is dining with.

“Do you want anymore chicken? Or are you ready for some trifle?”

“Trifle sounds good. Let me help you clear the table.”

Before she can stand up, Anne is waving at her to sit down. “You’re the guest Charlie, you stay where you are. My darling son is going to clear the table.”

“Chopped liver I am today.” Even though Harry huffs loudly when he starts stacking plates, he still gives his mum a kiss on the head before heading to the kitchen.

The women sit in silence for a little, sipping their drinks and taking in the nice weather. Anne takes a slow, thoughtful sip, then leans forward with her eyes heavy with emotion.

“Charlie,” she says softly, “I hope you know that if you ever need any help with Rory you can come to me. Hell, if you need help completely unrelated to Rory you can always come to me. Whether you need someone to babysit or if you want someone to vent I’m here.”

“Anne, thank you I really appreciate –“

“No, I mean it,” Anne interrupts with a sense of determination in her voice. “I don’t know what happened with the pregnancy and I don’t know why you didn’t tell anyone, why you didn’t tell me, but if you need a mother, I’m always going to be just a phone call away. Like always. Nothing’s changed, darling.”

This time, Charlie doesn’t even try to fight the tears. They stream down her face as she sits still and unmoving in her seat. She doesn’t know what to feel. She feels guilty for ever doubting that Anne would be anything but kind and welcoming. But that small voice at the back of her mind tells her that she is undeserving. If her own mother can’t love her through this how could someone else’s mother?

“I … Anne, you … “

“Alright ladies I hope you saved room for dessert. What? Why’re you both crying?”

Anne wipes away her stray tears with a dismissive laugh. “Nothing Harry, just girl stuff.”

Harry clearly doesn’t buy it, but he dishes up the trifle then turns the attention back to Rory, because nothing cures sadness like an adorable little girl.

“D’you think the monkey would like some trifle?”

The air of seriousness quickly dissipates, and they fall back into casual conversation until they make their leave in the early evening. Anne’s departing hug feels heavier than usual, but Charlie shuts her eyes and indulges in it.

-

Charlie somehow finds herself in another one of her domestic daydreams with Harry. So much for setting boundaries. But it’s his last day here, so whatever damage can be slowly undone over the however long it will before she sees him next.

It was near impossible to separate Harry and Rory this morning. He couldn’t even wait for them downstairs as he usually would, knocking on the nursery door at seven sharp and peeking round the door to see if the baby is awake. She let him shower Rory with affection and attention, hugging her extra tight and chasing her around the living room until they both collapse into a fit of giggles on the floor.

They didn’t have plans to leave the house today, but Charlie is a sucker for Harry’s pout and when he tells her to trust him in his low, syrupy voice, she can’t say no. She has been cautious about going out with Rory and Harry in case someone takes a picture and posts them online. In their years of friendship, she has been photographed with him loads and she’s no stranger to the fans, but as far as she knows, Rory is still a well kept secret. And being shipped with Harry is one thing but being shipped with Harry as a mother is a whole new can of worms that she would prefer to stay shut. Thankfully, the fans they bumped into when they have been out together have been nice enough to only post their selfies with Harry online, and this has made him confident enough to want to go on a little last minute picnic in the park. So, Charlie pushes her fears aside and gives in to him.

They find a cute spot under a large tree and sprawl out over a picnic mat. Rory is in a light blue gingham dress with a matching bucket hat that Charlie is certain she didn’t buy, and Harry is entertaining himself by following the baby around, snapping pictures every other second. They’d usually go home when Rory gets fussy and needs to be put down for a nap but she falls asleep uncharacteristically quickly simply lying on the mat, shielded by Harry’s shadow. Deciding to take full advantage of the nice weather, the adults lie beside each other with the baby between them.

Charlie tilts her head to peak at Harry who appears to be taking nap. Eyes shut with one arm under his head and another on his belly, rising and falling as he breathes deeply. He looks incredibly cuddly in a well-loved striped jumper, hair freshly washed and fluffy, just begging for someone to run their fingers through it. She wonders what she would smell if she curled up against the curve of his waist and rested her head on his chest. Would he smell like her since he has been using her soaps and detergents? Or would his usual deep musky scent trump the others, retaining his usual ‘Harry-ness’. Her eyes lock onto his jaw, all sharp and angular. When they were teens, she used to think about what it might feel like to trace his jawline with little kisses, then bring her mouth down to the hollow of his neck and caress it with her lips, teeth, and tongue until it is marked purple and blue. Especially when his hair was long and would have shielded any bruises from prying eyes. She wanted to stake her claim on him like the girls he hooked up with would try to do. Management was strict about remaining clean from evidence of any lovers, but Charlie liked to think that Harry would have made an exception for her if she asked him to.

She studies his features carefully, wanting to commit every crevice to memory. Time apart never gets easier; she misses him just as much each time. When her eyes reach his she jumps a little, not expecting them to be open and full of mirth.

“Having fun?” he asks with a smirk.

Charlie’s face heats. She says nothing.

“You can keep staring if you like, I’ll continue pretending to be asleep.”

“Shut up.” She throws a grape at Harry as he giggles.

Harry reaches across Rory to intertwine his fingers with hers. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. It won’t be as long as last time. I should have at least a week off between Coachella and all the movie promo, so it’ll just be about a month.”

“H, you don’t have to fly back every chance you get. Don’t stress yourself out. Make sure you’re resting enough because you are too important to be falling sick.”

“Sound like a right mum,” he jokes. “I won’t fall sick from flying, I used to do it all the time remember.”

“But you’ll be exhausted, and there’s no need to tire yourself out at my expense. Nothing’s changed from last time. You focus on being Harry Styles, okay.”

He looks at her pensively for a moment, then lets out a little sigh. “Fine, I promise to not go out of my way to come see you if you promise to call me every day, or at least send me a little video of you and monkey. And, if you need anything, anything at all, I expect to be informed promptly.”

“Promise.”

Charlie manoeuvres their fingers so that their pinkies are hooked tightly, earning her a bright grin from Harry. 

“We should probably head back, it’s almost Rory’s dinner time. We can make that tuna recipe you sent me I got the ingredients for it last time round.”

As they pack up to leave, Harry instinctively goes to pick Rory up, gently cradling her close to his chest, careful not to wake her. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her until she is safely buckled into the car seat, all too aware that this is going to be his last chance to cuddle her for a while.

“You spoil her you know, always carrying her everywhere and attending to her every time she looks your way.”

“She’s my little princess, I’m always going to spoil her,” Harry says without hesitation.

Harry is almost overwhelmed by how strongly he has come to care about Rory. It’s not unexpected, he has loved every one of his god children the moment he saw them. There is just something different, something more, when it comes to Rory.

Any excitement for possibly the biggest moment of his career is easily eclipsed by his excitement for his daily dose of Charlie and Rory. He should be concerned and if he had any sort of common sense, he would tell himself to pull back before he gets too emotionally attached to the idea of being a permanent figure in their lives, too attached to the idea of building a family back in Holmes Chapel with the woman who has made him who he is today. Harry must be an idiot, because he dives headfirst into the life that he has created in his head anyways, ignoring every warning sign along the way.

-

Is your Instagram still your only social media account?

Yup. Why?

Nothing. Promo has just started so maybe you want to stay offline a little in case they start saying things about me.

Okay, thanks for the heads up. Good luck with all the interviews rockstar.

I miss you. Tell Rory I love her. xx

-

If Charlie was the main character in a romcom, she would hop onto an emergency group call with a bunch of girls and discuss pros and cons. Unfortunately for her, she lost touch with most of her girl friends when she fell into a depressive episode during her pregnancy and the only friend she’s close with is in another continent, and would not react rationally in this situation. Then again, she isn’t sure what the rational reaction is to your ex-boyfriend slash father of your child telling you that he wants to be part of your life via text, completely out of the blue.

Apparently, she forgot to block Richard’s number before she had her mental breakdown because she is greeted by a paralysing text on a perfectly nice Thursday morning.

Hey, sorry this is sudden. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me ever again, but can we meet? In person?

What. The. Fuck.

The mummy blogs certainly didn’t cover this.

She tells herself that she will revisit the text at the end of the day when she is done with work and Rory is down for the night, which results in her completely forgetting about it until the next morning. Well, the dude did walk on out her, the least he can expect is a late reply. But one day turns into two, and two into three. The text still weighs heavy on her mind. Trust Richard to get impatient because on the fourth day he sends another text while Charlie is on facetime with Harry. The notification pops up, taking her by surprise.

“What happened?” Harry asks.

Okay, she is not as subtle as she thought.

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head.

He squints at her with suspicion. “I thought we said no more secrets.”

Shit, he knows exactly how to get to her.

Charlie tries to change the subject and several times unsuccessful, so she takes a deep breath and puts on a brave face.

“Richardtextedmeandwantstomeetup.”

“What? Slow down, love.”

“Richard texted me a couple days ago saying that he wants us to meet. I haven’t replied him because I just don’t know what to say and he just texted me again.”

Harry’s face immediately hardens into something quite intimidating.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

And they’re back to silence. If not for him blinking Charlie would’ve thought his screen was frozen.

“H, please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at that asshole.”

“It’s fine, I’ll deal with it later. I don’t want to think about him anymore, I don’t want to ruin my night.”

“Don’t reply to him, please. He doesn’t deserve anything from you. He doesn’t deserve Rory.”

Harry’s right, he always is. Richard is a piece of shit. If he wasn’t ready to be a father a year ago, he isn’t ready to be a father now.

The issue is pushed to the back of her mind and she goes about her routines as per usual. She feeds and cuddles Rory as she gets herself ready for work, leaves when the babysitter arrives at 8.15 am, then comes back in time for dinner and bed, ending her night with a call from Harry. Everything feels stable and predictable, just how she likes it. That is until she swings the door open one morning expecting the babysitter, only to be faced by an unwelcomed someone.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asks, frozen in place.

He shrugs with his hands in his pockets. “You never replied, so I thought I’d come round to see if you still lived here.”

At least he had the decency to sound a little uncomfortable.

“I thought the lack of replies were pretty clear. I don’t want to see you.”

“C’mon Charlie, I made a mistake. I’m not asking for much, just let me take you out for lunch. Just once.”

Charlie tells herself to remain strong and not give in. “Richard, the sitter is coming soon. You need to leave.”

“You kept the baby?” he asks, all wide eyed and hopeful.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You’re going to keep my child away from me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m keeping them away from you am I?” She is practically growling at this point.

“You know what I mean, I’ve never been good at words.”  His voice softens, almost pleading. “Please let me in. I’ve grown, I’m not the same guy anymore. I want to know my child. Please?”

Her brows pinch together and she bites her cheek to stop herself from screaming.

“We will meet for lunch tomorrow and see what happens. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

Richard’s face lights up instantly, relief clear on his face. He gives her a bright grin and thanks her over and over before driving off with a lingering wave. Charlie leans against the shut door and takes a moment to calm herself down.

She forgot how handsome Richard is. Not as much of a looker as Harry, sure, but handsome nonetheless. She had spent months crying over him and now he has weaselled his way back into her brain with his stupid dazzling smile.

Shit. She just agreed to have lunch with her ex-boyfriend and father of her child.

[erodasfishtacos]

Can I request a prompt of dad!Harry where maybe it’s just him And Sasha and they get mobbed and her slightly hurt but he is furious

JUST A LESSON

word count: 5k+ (how'd i write this in one day)

warnings: language, smut, blood, minor injuries

- If you'd like more from dad!harry verse - check out my masterlist! (pinned post)

- PLEASE NOTE: DAD!HARRY & CEO!HARRY ARE TWO DIFFERENT TROPES.

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story!

---

Harry was quite stressed out. He wasn’t sure how his wife did it all the time. She was constantly packing up Sasha and toting her around the globe to meet up with him for concerts and events when he was away.

The little family had been staying in their Los Angeles home for nearly three months now as Harry had been writing for his third solo album. It involved a lot of late nights were Y/N were putting Sasha to bed by herself.

Harry was eternally grateful that she was so patient and understanding when he snuck into bed quarter past three after finding a rift that fit a new song perfectly or when Mitch had an idea that had Harry on Skype for hours with him.

The stress was overwhelming for her though. She was usually good at self-care and taking time for herself but Sasha had been so needy lately and crabby when her father wasn’t at her beck and call.

The toddler was going through a bout where she struggled to sleep through the night and had a tendency to scream bloody murder when she didn’t get her way.

It was nearly three weeks of this and she hadn’t mentioned it too much to Harry because she didn’t want him to be as stressed out as she was.

Tonight, Y/N had rocked, sang, hummed, and read to her daughter to stop the angry tears that were rolling down her cheeks but nothing was working. It was near eleven at night and she had took Sasha out in the car for a long ride where she finally fell asleep.

But as soon as Y/N unlocked the front door, she startled awake even angrier than before, squirming out her mother’s grip and bolting through the house. When she tried to round a corner, she slipped on her bum.

Y/N felt her anxiety level break.

Sasha began screaming once again, “Mummy! No! No!”

When Y/N picked her up after her slight tumble, she was absolutely not hurt but had become even more frustrated. Y/N was starting to feel overwhelmed - which didn’t happen often.

“Baby, what do you want? What can mummy do?” Y/N asks with desperation, searching her baby’s watery green eyes. She looked so much like her dad it was absurd.

“No! Down! Stop!” The two year old orders with a furrowed brow, lips in a tight line with her nose scrunched up in displeasure.

“Sasha, you just hurt yourself. You can’t run in the house, the floor is slippery,” Y/N tells her firmly despite it falling upon deaf ears.

“Bad mummy,” Sasha shrieks, “Daddy! Want Daddy! Now!”

Y/N is embarrassed to admit that she has tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying everything in her power to soothe her baby. It’s midnight at this point and she’d been at it since seven this morning.

Sasha had refused a nap all day - giving Y/N no respite at all. Harry had left at eight in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Even though Sasha was only two and a half, Y/N felt a pang at the words ‘bad mummy.’

She didn’t feel any other option at this point than to call Harry for help. She wanted to be capable of being at stay home mum but sometimes it was really fucking hard but she felt guilty because she should be able to do this. Harry was out there working hard, providing, constantly.

When he doesn’t answer, the tears freely start streaming down her face in silence. She scrubs at them quickly so that her daughter doesn’t see them but it’s hard to catch them all - sobs threatening to bubble through her lips.

“Daddy’s working, we need to go to sleep,” Y/N replies to her daughter, jaw clenched to hold back the upset she feels. She needs a minute alone but she doubts her toddler will let her.

“Pool?” Sasha piques, “Swim?”

Y/N wants to laugh, it’s so fucking late and Sasha should have been in bed nearly four hours ago. The mother was so beyond her routine at this point, that she actually just gave in to her daughter.

Sasha’s mood turns around when Y/N wrangles them both into their swimsuits ***and trails out of the back patio, switching on all the lights around as well as in the pool. The California air was still extremely warm, enough to cause a sweat. ***

She tugs a little donut raft into the pool with them that Sasha can float around on while Y/N guides it to keep her safe. She was so tired by this point that her bones felt like they weighed a million pounds.

Sasha’s eyes droop until they finally flutter close within minutes of being in the warm water. Her eyelids splotchy pink from all of the fits and tears from the day. And when she is completely asleep, Y/N lets herself cry as she continues to float the baby around the pool to keep her asleep.

She hasn’t been doing it for more than ten minutes when the patio door opens and Harry is stepping into the back with a confused expression that she can’t see because her back is turned to him.

“Love, why are you in the pool? S’late,” Harry asks softly but he doesn’t get an answer, so he’s slipping out of his plain tee and striped pants, dirty vans kicked to the side ***.

Just in his briefs, he quietly enters the pool to not disrupt the ebb and flow of the water. When he makes his way over to her, he slides in front of his wife, alarmed at the exhausted, tearful expression on her face.

“Baby, what’s happened? Talk t’me,” Harry whispers, hands coming to cup his wife’s face in between his large hands. Rings cold against her hot, wet cheeks. He looks to his sleeping daughter, running his eyes over her a few times and decides she seems completely okay.

“M’fine,” Y/N chokes out but the lie causes a fresh wave of tears.

Harry frowns, “Don’t lie to me, pet. Please, don’t shut me out. M’always here for you.”

“I’m a bad mum,” She sobs silently, her eyes closing as she leans into his palms before moving to rest her head heavily on the crook of his tattooed shoulder, his chest damp from the salty tears.

“Wha-What’s brought this on? Y’the best mum in the world, best wife in the world. The best at everythin’, why are you doubtin’ that, my heart?” Harry murmurs, taking over the rocking motions of Sasha’s raft.

“She wouldn’t settle today, Harry. Like at all, refusing to nap, eat any healthy food, or bathe. She screamed at me the whole day no matter what I did and then she told me I was bad and she wanted you.”

“Love, she’s in the midst of her terrible twos. She loves you more than anythin’ on this earth. Y’her mummy and a damn good one at that. Why didn’t y’call me? I’d come home, work is never more important than our family.”

Y/N doesn’t bring up the fact she did try to call, “I need to be able to do this myself, Harry. M’a stay at home mum, taking care of Sash is literally my only job and I can’t even do that.”

Harry’s face hardens but he tries to not take it personally, knowing his wife is just upset with herself, “That’s not fair to me, dove. M’her daddy, she’s half mine too. She’s just as much of my responsibility as yours, no matter what my job is.”

“I don’t want to stress you out more than necessary,” Y/N mutters into his skin.

“Me coming home to my wife in tears and my baby in the pool at midnight is more stressful than you ringin’ me to come home,” Harry tells her, smearing a few kisses to the top of her hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m just tired.”

Harry pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes, “Never apologize for somethin’ like that. Go get a bath and let me put the bub to sleep, okay? I love y’mumma.”

--

Harry calls his mum the next morning while Y/N is out getting a manicure with Glenne. He’d called her favorite salon earlier in the day, coercing them into opening a spot for her with a monetary bribe.

Y/N had hesitated at the door as Sasha threw a fit at her mother leaving the house. She clung onto her calf until Harry had to physically pull her off and hold her tightly in his arms.

Currently, Sasha was playing with a set of dolls on the floor of her bedroom as Harry sat next to her. She’d originally been happy with the presence of her father until he told her he needed to make a phone call.

Harry had to be stern with her when she went to grab at the phone pressed to his ear, gently gripping her wrist and frowning, “We don’t do that, s’not nice.”

Sasha had attempted to grab at it again and managed to tangle Harry’s long locks into his fist, tugging at them. Harry unraveled the small fingers before telling his daughter, “If you do that one more time, y’going on the step for two minutes.”

The threat had her pouting harshly but turning back to her toys to occupy herself, sighing when his mum finally answered the phone, “Hi darling.”

“Hi mum, you alright?” Harry asks, relaxing at the sound of his mother’s melodic voice.

“I’m perfect, you don’t sound okay, dear,” Anne replies with a concerned twinge.

Harry didn’t call much to complain, didn’t like worrying her and most of the time Y/N was able to provide the support he needed or Jeff.

“Y/N’s really overwhelmed,” Harry tells her before choking up a bit, “And I don’t know what to do mum, I feel like m’bein’ a bad husband. Came home to her crying last night and she feels like she’s a bad mum.”

When Sasha hears her father’s voice crack, she looks up at him curiously before recognizing that he’s upset. She crawls into his lap, fitting herself against his chest before playing with a doll there. Comforting him.

Harry wraps his free arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. His precious little baby. A little blessing as sweet as her mother.

“Oh honey, that happens. Mums, good mums especially are so critical when they don’t need to be. Baby’s are overwhelming, plus I know she’s been alone a lot with her. But you’re not a bad husband, dear.”

“It feels like it,” Harry sniffles, burying his face in his daughter’s lavender-scented curls from her bath earlier.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be calling,” Anne chuckles at her son, “Now how can we make this situation better?”

-

The phone call helped Harry not feel so hopeless in helping his wife. He’d come up with the plan to fly to England with Sasha so that Anne could see her but Y/N could have some alone time for a long weekend.

When Y/N enters the front door after her appointment, she’s met by a very excited little human who rushes to her mother and demands to be picked up. Of course, Y/N obliges, looking a bit more refreshed and awake as she tucks the baby against her hip.

Harry had ordered their favorite salads from a shop in the city and had it ready for her, “Oh, looks delicious. Thank you, H,” She smiles at him, leaning to give his stubbly cheek a kiss.

As they dig in, Y/N feeding bits of chicken and veggies to her daughter as they eat, Harry clears his throat, “I’m taking Sash to Holmes Chapel for the long weekend to see my mum.”

Y/N smiles, “That sounds great!”

Harry gives her a perplexed look, he’d thought she’d put up a fight. She despised being away from Sasha - couldn’t go a day without seeing her daughter.

“Really?” Her husband asks, putting down his fork.

“Mhm, I just have to pack a bag for Sash and I. When are we leaving?” Y/N replies eagerly, ready to go back home and get away from California for a bit.

Harry’s stomach clenches, “Erm, I meant just me and the baba? I thought you could stay here and relax for a weekend. Sleep, hang out, shop.”

Y/N’s face falls and is replaced with a devastated look, “You don’t think I’m being a good mum.”

Harry backpedals, realizing he shouldn’t have approached it in the lax way he did.

“No, no, of course not, baby. I think you’re such a good mum that you need a break. You never get breaks, m’the one who always does. S’not fair to you. I just need you to have some time to take care of yourself,” Harry explains, his heart shattering a bit at the tears brimming again.

“I don’t want a break, don’t leave me here,” Y/N begs, tucking a piece of tomato in her daughter’s expectant mouth before Sasha chews and smiles at her mother.

“Mummy, more please?” Sasha chirps, her mood a little bit brighter than it had been the last few days.

“Thank you for using your manners, here baby,” Her mother responds, popping another into her mouth after she sliced it in half.

“Did you book a commercial flight?” She asks her husband with an angry tone.

“No, private but we have to catch it at LAX,” Harry explains, the private airport they usually fly out of was filled to capacity at the moment.

“Either I’m coming or you’re going alone. You’re not taking Sasha without me,” Y/N replies firmly. She stands up and shuffles Sasha into his lap before leaving the room without another word.

Harry didn’t expect that. He should have thought it through more. If Y/N wanted to come, of course she could, but he’d never meant to offend her or act like he was taking Sasha away from her.

--

Harry had attempted to reason his way out of going to the studio with Jeff today. However, with the final cuts and adjustments were being made - he was quickly turned down and demanded in the studio.

When he’d trailed into the quiet house that night, relieved to find his baby in her crib instead of the pool, he went to his bedroom where the lights were still on.

The closet doors were open and Y/N was on the ground folding and sorting Sasha’s clothes before placing them in her suitcase. ***

Y/N’s suitcase already laying zipped and ready to go by the entrance of the closet. Her toiletry bag was placed neatly on top of it. Then his heart pings a bit when he sees that she’s already packed up his suitcase as well.

Harry pads over to his wife, plopping down behind her and tugging her back into him - long arms wrapping around her upper chest.

“Missed you, mumma.”

She hums, “I missed you too. Miss you always.”

“Y’the love of my life, y’know that?” Harry asks, kissing the back of her neck.

“I better be or you married the wrong person,” Y/N laughs softly, her tone still off but lighter than before.

“Married the right person, knocked up the right person.”

Y/N barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “How romantic.”

“Baby, y’know what I’m getting at. You’re the best mum and wife. I just wanted you to have a few days to yourself. To lower your stress level and let you do some self-care,” Harry murmurs, pushing the baby clothes out of her hands.

“But your mum can watch her for a bit while we’re there, right? I don’t want alone time, I need the exact opposite. I need company,” She tells him, twisting herself until she’s seated in his lap - straddling him.

“Mmm, can definitely have some alone time,” Harry agrees instantly, his mouth finding her throat - beginning to lay a path of wet, hot kisses down the column down to her collarbones.

“H, I have t’pack, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Y/N weakly argues but can’t help but bear down against her husband when she feels him harden in his loose pants quickly.

“S’just a quickie? Yeah, pet? Lemme fuck you,” Harry’s hands dragging the shirt she’s wearing up and over her head. Eyes lighting up boyishly when he realizes she didn’t have a bra on.

She can’t argue as he darts down to wrap his lips around her pert bud, sucking between long swipes of his tongue - just how she liked it. “Missed y’body so much,” Harry states against her heated skin.

“Just had me two days ago,” Y/N laughs but it cuts off into a moan when his hand slides into her pajama shorts and finds her clit over her thin underwear.

“Never enough,” Harry replies easily, “Remember the song I wrote f’you?”

Y/N snarkily asks, “Which one? Nearly all your songs are about me.”

And well...Harry can’t even argue how true her statement is. “The one titled ‘Never Enough’, pet? Remember?”

Before she can speak, he lowly croons out the chorus of the song he wrote for One Direction years ago, “Lips so good I forget my name. I swear I would give you everything. It’s never enough, never enough.”

Harry knows his sweet as syrup singing gets her immensely turned on and so he’s not surprised when she whimpers against his lips, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

He’s delighted at his wife’s pleas and quickly moves them, leaning forward with her until she’s on her back on the ground of their walk-in closet. He accidentally kicks over a pile of Sasha’s dresses but neither even notice.

There is no time wasted as Harry removed every single article from Y/N’s body quickly as well as his own. He’s leaning forward to suck a few more kisses to her chest as his fingers slip down to crook right up into her hot center.

“No teasing,” Y/N complains, wrapping hands around his biceps and bringing him on top of her more fully. She’s squeezing around his two fingers with need, it has him groaning when he brings them up and sucks them between his pouty lips.

Then she’s not waiting any longer, reaching down and grabbing a hold of his thick length. Harry lets out rumble from his chest at the contact before she’s guiding him into her without any further ado.

“Baby,” Harry chastises as soon as she starts goading him into thrusts with her feet against him bum, pushing him into her harder than he’d usually start, “Y’squeezin’ me s’tight, you missed me too?”

Y/N nods, whining every time he pushes against her spot and sends a zip of arousal through her body. His trimmed hair around his base brushing against her clit causing delicious friction for her.

“No, y’need to tell me,” Harry huffs, hand gripping her jaw harsher than he would if they were having slow, intimate sex. He knew she loved it by the way her eyes twinkle with stubbornness.

“No,” She replies coyly, heels of her feet pressing hard against him to the point it itches with a slight pain. Harry loved his wife so much it was looney.

“It’s fine, don’t need y’to come for me to get off, dove,” Harry replies simply, speeding up his thrusts with his hand holding her jaw for him to press bruising kisses against. His teeth are coming to pull her bottom lip in between.

Something switches in her demeanor though without warning, her voice softer and pliant, “Tell me you love me.”

It has Harry slowing down his hips until he’s rocking deeper into her, going down on his elbows so their noses are bumping. He releases the grip of her chin and instead moves to her bum to encourage her to meet him halfway.

“I love you, s’much it hurts most days,” Harry replies obediently, knowing what his wife needed at that moment. Reassurance. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, then you made us a perfect little baby.”

She’s looking up at him with loving, grateful eyes, landing a gentle peck to his upper lip and letting her head fall back onto the floor. This is what she needed right now from her husband and he was so good at providing.

“Breaks my heart when y’don’t think your a good mum or wife. ‘Cause you’re everythin’ I ever wanted. Why’d you think I write every song about you, lovie? S’cause you’re my soulmate.”

“H,” She whimpers, emotion thick in her throat as she meets his eyes, “I love you so much. You’re the best husband and dad ever.”

“Baby,” Harry murmurs into her cheek, picking up speed as she starts to clench around him in a warning of her oncoming orgasm. He slips his hand down to press a few light rubs to her clit before she’s arching her back and moaning with pleasure.

“You look s’good, coming ‘round my cock,” Harry tells her, helping her ride through it before hitching her hips up even further and thrusting harshly until his hips stutter and he’s coming as well.

“Harry,” Y/N sighs, her breathing coming back to normal as she roams a hand down his shoulders and back - scratching lightly.

“Hmm, dove? Y’want my cock again? Need a few,” He replies into her neck, ever the teenage boy.

She giggles, “No, we have to catch a flight at eight in the morning and it’s currently four-thirty.”

Harry grunts before pulling out and sitting up, “Y’better have packed my favorite pajama pants or I’m goin’ to be cross with you.”

--

Y/N now regrets the second round of fun as soon as their alarm goes off. Her body sore from the position he’d twisted her into against the shower wall after they packed the rest of Sasha necessities.

They were nearly at the airport with Sasha nodding back off in the carseat. She was excited to see her Nana and Aunt Gemma once again.

Their daughter was in the cutest, comfiest jumpsuit with comic hearts all over it *** and adorable little sock sneakers*** that slide right on and off her feet.

Harry had chucked on black sunglasses, a black jumper with green lettering, black joggers, and blue checkered van with white socks. He was attempting to fly under the radar as much as possible because he knew paparazzi just sit outside the entrances to spot celebrities. ***

It was annoying but he could deal with it when he was mobbed at the airport when he was by himself. But when it was with his wife and baby - he couldn’t stomach it. It’s part of the reason they fly private from a private port.

When they pull up to the curb, a staff member is waiting for them and helps Harry as well as the driver put his luggage on a cart to be brought to the awaiting jet.

Y/N unbuckles the baby who is awake now but bleary-eyed as she’s sitting on the curve of her mother’s hip.

And well - that’s when the madness begins. A pap spots them within seconds of exiting the car and is pulling up his camera for the first shots, the other photographers sitting around follow suit.

As soon as one of them screams, “Harry Styles - look this way!” The jam packed area looks towards them, seeming fans of his start murmuring before following behind the paparazzi pulling their phones out.

Y/N is used to the crowds by now - but just like Harry, not with Sasha around. They tried to avoid situations like this as much as possible. The lights and loud noises were scary to the little girl.

“Mummy,” Sasha whines, picking her head up from her mother’s shoulder to stare wide-eyed at the gathering in front of them.

Harry started to feel anxiety because this was becoming a massive crowd - scratch that, it wasn’t a crowd it was a fucking mob of people. They were all too close, blinding the family with their flashes despite security attempting to push them back.

Fans were shoving and thrusting their phones in Harry’s face, shoving random things for him to sign in front of him. Paparazzi were screaming questions and taking thousands of pictures in a minute’s time.

Harry grabs onto Y/N’s hand tightly, their diaper bag on Harry’s shoulder, and begins to attempt to guide them through the swarm. It was like trying to move through cement, the crowd not budging despite security’s screams.

Sasha is full blown crying at this point into her mother’s neck. Y/N’s hand cupping the back of her head to keep her head down and out of the photographs - holding her as tightly as possible.

Y/N can hear Harry began to curse - signaling that he’s becoming stressed out because he would usually never be rude to the public despite their actions. But he couldn’t give a fuck when it came to his family.

“Move out of the way.”

“D’you not see I have a fuckin’ baby?”

“Get those fuckin’ cameras out of their faces.”

“Back the fuck away from my wife and baby.”

Then Y/N is being shoved by a teenage girl who trips when she thrusts her arm towards Harry. She tumbles into Y/N with her full weight and Y/N’s loses her footing, falling forward - letting go of Harry’s hand.

When she falls, she manages to catch herself with the arm that’s not holding her daughter. But she feels pain in her knees and Sasha emits a sharp wail that alerts Y/N her daughter is hurt.

“Sash, fuck,” Y/N gasps, her motherly instincts automatically kicking in and she’s cradling her daughter as tightly to her chest as she can, shielding her from the swarm who had quieted only a bit.

It must take Harry a second to realize that something had happened, he turns around - eyes frantic as he absolutely roars, “Back the fuck up! I’ll fuckin’ break each and everyone of your cameras! Fucking leeches.”

With that, he’s helping to pull you up and grasping at the two, “Are you okay? Wha’s hurt?”

Y/N just shakes her head, having a panic attack as she shuffles the crying baby into his arms. “Please, just...Sasha. I think she hurt her arm when I fell.”

“Daddy, ouch,” Sasha shrieks loudly into his sweatshirt as he hikes her up onto his chest, her little legs wrapped around his midsection.

“Ssh, y’okay,” Harry tries to reassure her, matching his wife’s panic.

The crowd seems to give way now, the parents rushing their daughter into the airport.

Employees guide them to the medical office on-site where it’s now silent and calm but the family feels anything but.

Sasha’s sobs have turned into moans and whimpers at this point - but come back with a vengeance when Harry has to set her on the exam table and wrestle her out of her clothes until she’s just sat in her diaper.

The nurse was so amazing and kind. She checked Sasha thoroughly for any signs of trauma or broken bones but luckily, it was just a nasty scrape on her forearm that was hurting her. It wasn’t anything serious.

The parents had such concern for their daughter that Y/N didn’t even realize she had bled through her white joggers at the knees ***. The nurse frowns, “Honey, you’re still bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” She insisted even though her knees were aching.

“I’d like to examine your legs, dear,” The nurse tells her sternly, signaling that Harry can dress Sasha again.

He’s digging into the diaper bag for a spare out that they were always ready with. She was calming even more when Harry dressed her in a comfy pink set of clothes with little deer on them. ***

“Love, please let her,” Harry asks softly, pulling Sasha back onto his chest. Her thumb tucked into her mouth and her father hands her a plushie that Y/N had shoved in the bag last minute.

Y/N obliges with the pressure, wiggling the loose fabric down her legs until she’s just in her underwear and shirt - sits up on the table with her knees off to the side for her to examine.

Harry grimaces when he sees the multiple cuts and scrapes tainting her skin. A few slow trickles of blood still oozing from the gashes. The skin is already slowly covering purple and blue with bruises.

The nurse cleans her up, Y/N wincing when the alcohol brushes the cuts but Sasha is smiling again like nothing ever happened and cooing at her mum. It makes them both feel a lot better.

--

When they’re finally on the private jet, up high into the clouds away from the crowds and paparazzi - it feels like relief. ***

They had tucked their daughter onto the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and she’s asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow.

They trail back into the other part of the cabin so that they don’t disturb her, cuddling up on the couch together.

“M’so sorry, I’m such a bad fa-”

Y/N cuts him off before he begins, “If I’m not allowed to be a bad mum - you’re not allowed to be a bad father. It wasn’t y’fault that happened - it’s those careless, crazed people who have nothing better to do.”

Y/N was always the voice of reason in Harry’s head when he started to spiral.

Spiral because his fame was so overwhelming and got his family into difficult situations sometimes. She brought him back to reality.

“Hey, we’re both okay. Just a few scrapes. It was just a lesson, Harry. We just need to be safer and plan better, alright?” Y/N assures him softly, kissing under his chin before resting back - ready to sleep.

“Y’the best. Best mum, best wife,” Harry tells her, encompassing her in his loving hold.

let me know your thoughts bub

come talk to me <3

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

[ijustwant2write]

His Protector-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @winter-and-zombies​)

Masterlist

Prompts Lists

Summary: At the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred is saved by (Y/N), a close friend of the twins. Both have always had feelings for the other, and in true cliche fashion, neither have admitted this. Years after the battle (where things are somewhat back to normal), the twins have remained friends with her, but it’s only at a Weasley family party does (Y/N) finally say something.

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death, PTSD, injuries, blood, lots of fluff

(A/N: This is quite long! And also the first time I’ve written for Harry Potter, blame it on my FYP on Tik Tok)

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There were no dry eyes from anyone gathered in the Great Hall. It was full of students, resting from the battle and treating injuries, or mourning over friends who didn't make it. Some were huddled together as they sobbed, others keeping to themselves as they tried to stop the horrifying images keep playing in their minds.

The Weasley’s were gathered around Fred, who was laid out on a makeshift stretcher, tears streaming down their faces as they waited for some sign of him waking up. He had dried blood on his face and partly in his hair. When he was first carried in, their immediate thoughts had been he was dead, because he seemed so lifeless. They were extremely grateful when they realised he was breathing, and he had a heartbeat.

Molly stroked back her son’s hair, trying to calm herself down as to not alarm her children. Never in her life did she think they would have to go through something like this, especially at such a young age. These were her babies, and she was going to protect them with her life like any mother would. George sat beside Fred opposite his mum, praying that his brother's eyes would soon open. Although it had been confirmed that he would be alright, albeit with a few injuries, seeing him lying there made it feel like he wasn’t with them anymore. Suddenly, Fred began to stir, scrunching up his eyes and moaning as he felt the pain throbbing through his body.

“How you feeling Freddie?” George quickly asked as the family got closer.

Fred mumbled something, but no one could understand. 

“What was that Fred?” Molly quietly said.

“(Y/N)...”

“Who? Who are you talking about?” Molly was sure she had heard the name before, perhaps when the boys were still at school. 

“(Y/N), where is she?” Fred moaned.

“I don’t know Freddie.” George replied.“I haven’t seen her since you were brought in.”

“Is..is sh-sh-she a-alive?” Fred was still weak, struggling to speak.

“Fred, please, just rest for now.” Molly begged, not wanting to see him in pain any longer.

“Sh-she’s d-dead?”

As the family struggled to keep Fred still and stop him from panicking, Ginny backed away, knowing the only way Fred would settle was if she found (Y/N). When Fred was carried in, (Y/N) had also been brought him right behind him, but they were separated. She was taken off towards her friends, and in the heat of the moment, Ginny hadn’t questioned if she was alright, making her feel awful.

Although (Y/N) had been close to the twins, she hadn’t been as mischievous as them, not wanting multiple detentions or to get in any trouble as much as they did. It was a surprising friendship between them, especially when (Y/N) was so nice to Ginny, despite the age difference; she was always surprised that the boys never invited her round to their home during the holidays. Because she saw how Fred would sneak glances at the girl, always rolling her eyes at how obvious he was being with his feelings, yet neither one did anything about it. 

Ginny ignored the calls from her dad when she set off in the hall to find (Y/N), bombarding her peers with questions, desperate to find her as quickly as possible. Luckily amongst everyone, she spotted (Y/N)’s friends huddled on the floor, holding onto the unconscious girl’s hands. Ginny startled them as she rushed over.

“Is she...” Ginny started.

“She’s alive. But she’s weak.” one of her friends sniffled.

“We need to move (Y/N).” Ginny demanded.

“What?” 

“She needs to be beside Fred.”

“Why?”

“She just does! Come on, help me move her. Please!”

The girls glanced between each other, and they knew Ginny wouldn’t be requesting such a thing for no reason. They struggled to navigate her body on the stretcher through the people, Ginny going ahead and commanding that they move out of the way. All eyes were on (Y/N), wondering why they were moving her. Ginny gently ushered George and her father out of the way, the men helping lay (Y/N) down on the floor. Fred also watched, slowly turning his head to look at her, expecting to see her beautiful eyes staring back. But when he saw they were shut, he panicked. He shakily reached out for her hand, struggling to find it as they were crossed over on her stomach. George took on her hands, placing it in Fred’s, smiling at the size difference.

Molly and Arthur looked at each other, wondering why this girl was so special to Fred and also why they hadn’t been told much about her.

“This is (Y/N). She saved Fred’s life.” Ginny explained to her parents."She's alive Fred."

Fred didn't reply, still staring at her and grasping onto her hand. His mind flashed back to seeing her save him, hearing how angry and upset she was as she shouted out her spell, somehow defending him from his death and saving herself. He had blacked out before he could see if she was safe. Although he heard Ginny, it didn't make him feel any better. He just wanted to see her eyes open. That was it.

"(Y/N)." he tried to raise his voice, but his throat was so hoarse that it came out as a whisper. He tried shaking her hand slightly, and again, he was too weak to even do that.

George held (Y/N)'s other hand, trying to help his brother wake up their friend. He too wanted her to wake up, and not just for his brother's sake. Her eyes fluttered open, then quickly shut again. Instinctively she was going to rub her eyes until she realised her hands were preoccupied.

"What's happening?" she breathed out, looking around at the Weasley family.

"You're safe dear." Molly reassured her.

"You're alive." Fred smiled, relief flooding through him.

(Y/N) only realised it was Fred talking beside her, breathlessly laughing as her head lulled to the side. There he was, alive just as she was.

"Fred? Oh my...Y-you're here."

"All thanks to you." George smiled, squeezing her hand.

"I'm so..." she gulped before continuing."I'm so happy you're both safe."

"Please don't do that again." Fred begged.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself in danger to save me."

"Don't be stupid Freddie. You can thank me later."

"Let me guess...lots and lots of chocolates."

"Exactly."

                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) yawned as she packed up her things from work, tired after another long week. She passed co-workers, waving goodbye and smiling as she left the building. As she put on her hat, she looked up at the sky, smiling at the sight of snow falling. It was turning dark, and seeing the snowflakes illuminated by the street lights made the street she walked down everyday look beautiful. (Y/N) took her first few steps towards her route home, suddenly stopping for an unknown reason. Something was pulling her in the other direction, she wanted to take a different path today.

Following her instincts, she walked in the opposite direction, hypnotised by the weather around her. Once she reached the end of the street, she looked up at the sign post, and the only part of it not covered in snow was the one that said 'Diagon Alley'. She hadn't been down there for so long, she hadn't seen two certain men for so long.

Why was she headed there? And of all the times to go, why now? She hadn't seen the twins for months, not because she didn't want to, but because she was so busy, as were they. Continuing her walk, she thought back to how often they would spend time together, especially after what happened to Hogwarts. She needed solidarity, she needed to be reminded that Fred was still there, that she didn't dream saving him, it had to be real. (Y/N) would regularly visit them, or vice versa, trying to act like everything was normal and that they weren't effected by anything that had happened.

The shops were closed, she could see the owners locking up, beginning to tidy everything away. Lights were dim, signs now said 'closed' and she was one of the few people left in the street after a busy day of shopping. As (Y/N) approached 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes', she grew nervous, wondering if this really was a good idea. She hadn't seen them for all this time and now she was suddenly turning up on their shop doorstep? Was it rude? Was she being stupid in thinking that they would be totally fine seeing her after a working day?

Mustering up as much courage as she could, (Y/N) forced herself to the front door, seeing that no last minute customers were left. She tried opening the door, luckily it was open, and let herself in.

"Sorry, we're closed!" a voice shouted out.

"Even for me?" she cheekily called back, giggling when a confused George poked his head around a pile of boxes.

He grinned, practically running towards (Y/N) with his arms open wide."Where have you been little miss?"

"I'm sorry, I know this is a random visit but...I don't know, I just thought of coming to see you and Freddie."

"You're welcome here any time of any day. You know that."

They pulled apart, still smiling."Thanks, I just feel bad that I've not made much effort."

"Hey, we're all busy now. Don't worry about it. I'll go get Fred, he's going to love this!"

George was ecstatic as he dashed off to find his brother. All of them were to blame for not catching up more often than they used to, and he had seen how it effected Fred. They had all been each others support system after the battle, but it was clear that Fred and (Y/N) hugged a little tighter than they used to, looked into each others eyes longer, and smiled as much as possible when together. George had always wanted to set them up (he would have preferred involving pranks somehow) and that old itch was back. These two were hopeless with their feelings for one another, he just had to give them a little push in the right direction...into each others arms.

"Freddie!" George exclaimed, laughing when his brother almost dropped a box out of fright.

"What?" Fred sighed as he recovered, placing the box on the floor. He just wanted to get the stock out for the next morning and go home.

"Come see who has paid us a visit."

George said no more, going back to the shop floor, leaving Fred rolling his eyes as he followed. He rolled up his shirt sleeves as they slid down his arms, not paying much attention to his surroundings. So when he looked up and he saw her, his mouth dropped open, shocked to see (Y/N) standing there.

"Would you just get over here and hug me?" (Y/N) joked, though not as boldly as she used to.

Fred just laughed as he did what she said, reaching down to wrap his long arms around her. She had miss how he held her, how tightly he clung onto her, as if it were their last hug ever. George just stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for them to finish.

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked.

"Just wanted to see you both." (Y/N) simply stated.

"Well I'm glad you did."

"How about we go for some drinks? It is the end of the week after all." George suggested.

(Y/N) nodded."Yeah, I'm up for that."

"Well then, let's get packed up Freddie."

(Y/N) offered to help, but the twins refused. They came in and out of the stock room, being as quick as they could. (Y/N) took the opportunity to walk around, see what items they were selling. There were some new products, but most were older classics. She reminisced over all the times the boys used pranks such as the ones in the shop, and how they could sometimes get a lighter punishment, just because everyone loved them. She took part in a few schemes here and there, but only the harmless ones, the ones that would only land her in detention if they got caught.

She came to a stand that held numerous love potions. She smiled as she remembered making Amortentia in her lessons. That had been an awkward class. No one wanted to be picked on and asked what theirs smelt like, not in front of their peers. (Y/N) knew who's hers smelt like as soon as the lid of the bottle popped off.

"No luck in the love department then?" George smirked as he put on his coat.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention, thinking back on old times.

"Still not found 'the one'?"

"Oh, no, I don't have time for any of that."

"Well, hopefully Mr Right just stumbles into your life." George was growing more excited by the second.

"Yeah, hopefully."

"Right, ready to go?" Fred appeared.

"Yes-Oh!" George startled them."Freddie, I just had a great idea."

"Oh here we go." (Y/N) joked.

"(Y/N) should come home with us, to the Burrow, for mum's party!"

"A party? Why is your mum throwing a party?"

"Dad got a little bonus at work, mum thinks it's something to celebrate. And it's an excuse for her to get the whole family back together."

"That is an amazing idea actually." Fred beamed.

"I can't impose on something like that. Especially since it's a family thing."

"Nonsense." the twins said in unison.

"Are you sure? I mean, I haven't seen your family for so long."

"Mum would love it." Fred reassured her.

"OK then!" (Y/N) grinned."I've always loved a Weasley party."

"That's settled then," George opened the door,"we'll discuss the details over those drinks that are waiting for us."

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Smoothing down her dress once again, (Y/N) checked her tights for any holes or ladders. She had planned her outfit a week before the party, changing her mind countless times before she finally decided on what she wanted to wear. All morning, her heart had been racing, stomach twisting into knots as nerves got the better of her. Why was she so nervous? She had met the Weasley’s many times, she even stayed the Burrow!

There was a knock at the door, meaning the boys were here to pick her up. Sighing, she checked herself one last time in the mirror before going to answer the door. As she opened it, she noticed it was only Fred standing there, no sign of George.

"Hi, where's George?" she asked as she let Fred inside the flat. She took a note of the smart-casual shirt he was wearing; thank god, she was dressed correctly.

"He's waiting downstairs. Said he can't be arsed to walk up all those stairs. Even though there is a lift..."

"Since when did he become so lazy?" (Y/N) giggled, grabbing her handbag and keys. Turning back around, she saw Fred staring at her.

"(Y/N), you look..." Fred was speechless, which was rare for him. He always had a witty remark, a joke or a flirty comment at the ready, but when he was around (Y/N), those words seemed to get stuck in his throat,"...beautiful."

(Y/N) smiled, ducking her head to hide her blush."Th-thanks Freddie. You look very handsome too."

There were so many more words that he wanted to use to compliment her. He wanted to slap himself for using such a basic word. (Y/N) was gorgeous, she was dazzling, he could believe such a smart, independant and caring woman was in his life. Why did he have to stutter or forget how to speak when he was around her? The real words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but they would never leave there.

Awkwardly laughing, they left the flat, meeting George outside. George noticed their pink cheeks but didn't mention it, knowing they had embarrassed themselves enough in front of each other.

The journey was full of banter and inside jokes, making it seem like they were students again at Hogwarts. (Y/N)'s nerves about seeing the Weasley’s again had disappeared, but new ones emerged. And they were all because of Fred. (Y/N) wasn't stupid, she had always had feelings for him. But after the battle, she hadn't snatched him up, something held her back, and she just couldn't bring herself to even talk to Fred about it, like any other normal adult would.

The Burrow was just ahead, now the nerves were taken over by excitement. Fred and George reminded (well, warned) (Y/N) how excited their mum was going to be, but she didn't mind. It would be great to receive such an inviting reception. She walked between the twins up to the house, letting them go in first, hesitating slightly as she took in how many people were there; they weren't joking when they said everyone would be there.

"Mum, look who else we brought." Fred struggled to say as he was smothered with kisses across his face.

Molly finally let him go, her smile turning into a shocked expression before letting out a scream, making everyone jump. She didn't waste time bringing (Y/N) into a bone crushing hug. (Y/N) would have laughed if she could breathe, but didn't complain.

"Oh, it's so good to see you dear! It's been too long since you've been back here." Molly held (Y/N)'s cheeks in her hands, looking at how the young girl she knew had turned into a beautiful woman.

“I couldn’t say no when Fred and George invited me.” (Y/N) said through squished lips. 

“Alright mum, give her some air.” George gently chuckled.

“Oh, this is so nice.” Molly beamed, glancing between (Y/N) and Fred, who was already looking at her. 

It took a good ten minutes for the twins and (Y/N) to greet everyone. She always forgot how many Weasley’s there were, some she had not seen for years. Homemade food was laid out on the table (far more than what was needed), everyone nibbling at anything they fancied as they spoke over drinks. There was a toast held for Arthur, who humbly thanked everyone, bashful over Molly’s speech; and she didn’t leave out mentioning how lovely it was that the family was extending, referring to (Y/N). She had blushed too much recently, avoiding eye contact with Fred as everyone stared at the pair who were stood together.

The day was moving on too quickly, it was becoming dark outside, and she didn’t want the night to end. The family had split into groups, still having much to talk about. (Y/N) decided to refill her drink, parting from the others to head to the kitchen. Just as she found another bottle to open, someone appeared beside her. Craning her neck upwards, she flinched back as Fred held out her coat to her, along with her hat, scarves and gloves.

“We’re not leaving are we?” (Y/N) frowned, not wanting to leave.

“Just popping out.” Fred smiled.

After getting wrapped up, (Y/N) followed Fred outside. Once again, it was lightly snowing, starting to stick to the ground which was already frosty, the sound of grass crunching underneath their shoes. She nonchalantly looped her arm through his, snuggling into him (if he asked, she would blame it on the cold), her heart fluttering when Fred instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, meaning they could be closer. They didn’t stray too far from the house, Fred casting Lumos to light the way. There was a crumbling stone wall which Fred confidently hopped onto. (Y/N) waited for some part of it to collapse, and when it didn't, she joined him, having to jump higher to reach the top. He laughed, forgetting how much advantage his height have him almost everyday.

"We've never sat here before." (Y/N) commented.

"Honestly, I didn't even know it was here."

"So we were just wandering around?" (Y/N) smiled.

"Yeah." Fred confessed.

“How come you wanted to get out of the house?”

“Uh...I wanted to, well, I thought we could talk.”

“About?” she dragged out the word.

“When I saw you again, after all this time, I realised what an idiot I’ve been.”

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously we’re busy, we’ve both got jobs and it’s always harder to meet up. But I regret that so much. After...what happened at Hogwarts, you were my rock, I always felt normal around you, as if nothing had happened. We were able to carry on with our lives like we had planned. When I didn’t see you, I would lie awake all night with that image of you beside me in the hall. It would never go away.”

“Why have you never told me any of this?” 

“I’ve been too scared to reveal anything. I didn’t want to bring anything up, because who would want to be with someone who is still stuck in the past?”

“I would. Fred, you’re not alone in this. I’ve always felt the same. I visited you all those times because my mind would make me think that I never saved you. And if I hadn’t....I don’t know how I would have gone on. Because if I didn’t have you in my life-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please. We’ve been through so much that we shouldn’t have. But we’re here now, together again.”

Fred held her hand, slowly interlocking their fingers. They both looked down, butterflies erupting in their stomach. The pair glanced at each other, quickly looking away when they realised how close their faces were.

“Why are we acting like kids at school again?” (Y/N) laughed.

“You’re asking the guy who owns and runs a joke shop with his brother, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being a kid.”

“We did, once.”

“(Y/N), we don’t have to think about that anymore. It’s in the past.”

“Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the last time we were in a situation like this? When you actually had the courage to ask me to the Yule ball?”

“And we went as friends?”

She nodded.“Yep. You know, I was a little disappointed when you added that part.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was sort of hoping you would ask me out as well. Then when you said that, and I just gave up trying. You never noticed me flirting anyway.”

“I never asked you because I never knew. And you also had guys after you so I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Are you joking? Fred, no one else was wanting to date me.”

“Now you’re the one who is joking.”

“Well...”

“Well?”

“Let’s not make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Oh it’s awkward now?”

“Fred!” (Y/N) exclaimed but couldn’t help laughing along with him.

“No, no, I’m enjoying this.”

“Fred Weasley, after all this time being idiots and wasting time not being together...”

“What? Did you change your mind-”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to say it, instead closing the already small gap them and kissing him. Fred was shocked by how forward she was, but wasted no time kissing back. Her hands cupped his cheeks as Fred’s hands wound themselves around her waist. This had been long overdue. As they pulled away, breathless from the passionate kiss, Fred started to chuckle.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked.

“Mum is gonna scream when she finds out about this.”

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

[blissfulparker]

This is gonna be cliche I think. But maybe reader or Tom thinks the other is cheating or planning on leaving them but their actually planning a proposal?

There was a new distance placed between you and Tom. His phone faced down whenever you were around, leaving the room to take phone calls and spending days out without telling you anything. You respected him as his own person but you two told each other almost everything and anything.

You two stood in the kitchen, it was late Sunday morning and this was the day made for you and tom. Laying in bed, endless cuddles and sex after breakfast was the dream.

“We should go to the farmers market today, I can make your mums roast for dinner I’m just missing—“ as you started to tell him a plan, his eyes go wide and he shakes his head.

“Oooo, can’t do that today love. Gotta plan with Harrison made. But a roast sounds lovely, truly sounds amazing darling.” He kissed your cheek. You don’t know why or how but your heart broke just a bit.

“Sunday is always our day.” You tell and he takes a deep breath. “Tom, what’s going on? Y-You never tell me anything anymore, you’re always sneaking off with ‘harrison’ or ‘Harry’ and will be gone for hours without a word to me. I-I know you have your own life too, we don’t control each other b-but it’s like we’re not even together anymore.” You lean against the counter and his face goes ghost white. Your heart and the sound of sizzling eggs is the only thing you hear.

“Darling, this is outrageous. We’re just going to golf ‘tis all—“ he excuses but you don’t buy it.

“What’s her name?” You asked with a broken voice. Toms eyes go even wider as he stares at you and you let your hands run over your face to prevent yourself from crying. “Damnit tom what’s her name—“ you cry but he cuts you off.

“There is no one else! (Y/n), I would never ever do that to you. Why would you even think—“ he starte and you turn back to the eggs to try and distract yourself, to not let him see you cry.

“Then tell me something! Please! I-is it not enough for you anymore? Do you wish I was something more or something else? I don’t know what to do tom and I’m tired of sitting at home useless—“ you start and he can’t hold it anymore, he can’t loose you.

“I want to marry you!” He blurts out wnd suddenly you stop flipping the eggs and turn around.

“What?” You stare at him and he sighs.

“I-I bought a ring with Harrison, I’ve been sneaking away with Harrison and Harry and twuaine because they’ve been helping me. I-I shouldn’t have made it so secretive but I wanted it to be a big surpise. I wanted to take you to a nice restaurant and then we would go for a walk and then we would stop where we had our first kiss, Harry would be waiting there and then I would get down on one knee and Harry would film everything. That is if you said—“ before he could finish you finished for him.

“Yes.” You say, your eyes watery and you don’t know if it’s from shock of the plan or because you feel bad and embarrassed for what you were thinking.

“W-Wait, are you serious?” He has a small smile but he tried to contain it.

“Yes! A thousand times yes! Oh my god I feel so stupid for—“ you don’t get to finish your words for his arms are wrapped around you and holding you in the middle of the kitchen. Pulling away only for your lips to meet in a messy way, tears and I brushed teeth is your first kiss as an engaged couple.

Your moment was quickly ruined when the smoke alarm went off and Tessas barking makes both of you jump. The kitchen now filled with smoke from burning eggs and the two of you cough.

“I’ll go get the ring.” He says through coughs and you nod.

“I’ve got the smoke alarm.” You quickly turn off the stove and open up windows before taking a towel to wave away the smoke from the alarm.

When things were finally settled once again, tom met you back in the kitchen where he slid the most beautiful engagement ring onto your finger. The beautiful cut diamond that was once his grandmothers he had customed for you.

He would still take you to the beautiful dinner but this was the story he was excited to tell. Half dressed, late morning with eggs burning up the house and he would lay in bed all day with you to celebrate. Maybe it wasn’t the fairytale you two thought of when you just started dating but it was the most Holland way to do it.

[henqtic]

𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴

paring: draco malfoy x black!fem!reader

word count: 1.0k

summary: neck kisses, he loved them because you did.

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works. // picture creds.

—————————

draco malfoy loved neck kisses ever since he learned how much y/n l/n did, both of you running through the halls, pulling at the others arm if they weren’t catching up— or at least he was, you nearly getting whiplash from it and your bonnet being mere seconds away from falling off of your head before he could pull you into the designated storage closet, lips eagerly connecting to your plump ones.

you smiled into it, hands running through his already tasseled hair illuminated by the bits of moonlight pouring into the short spaced room by the vents.

your head turned at the sound of someone’s footsteps, scared that you’d get caught out of bed with him for the fourth time this week. it didn’t matter much though, each time being by snape and each time draco using his prefect powers to get you both out of it, a harsh look of judgement being ensured. draco wrote it off as jealousy, that snape probably hadn’t been kissed by a girl in the fifty years he was alive— you weren’t even sure if he was that old.

that being said, your shift of attention didn’t stop him, head simply dipping down to search for your sweet spot.

“don’t you think we should stop soon? you know, i can never find the right shade of concealer at the stores and i’d rather not go out looking like something decided to attack me,” you said through shaky breaths, no longer worried about the sounds you heard minutes ago but about how you were going to cover up the marks that you knew were on you.

he quickly drew back, taking a moment to admire the slightly darker spots littered across your neck, his thumb running over them and the fact that he was the one to made them sinking in.

“i could buy you all the makeup in the world,” he smirked, statement not being far from the truth and eyes trailed down to see yours doing the same, rolling and letting out an all too dramatic sigh before responding—

“if you insist draco.”

“i do.”

he loved them even more when he learned how much you loved to be woken up to them. when everything else was quiet in the manor, house elves freed because you argued that cleaning and doing things around your own home couldn’t be as difficult as he made it out to be— even though it was massive.

and although the winter mornings would be so chilling, there was something else you sought after more than warmth and that was the way his lips would instinctively find their way to your neck like a personal alarm clock. whether it be out of tiredness as he drifted back into sleep almost ten seconds after or when he thought it was time for you to finally wake up after admiring your sleeping form for a few minutes, you loved it.

his arms would be wrapped around you from the back, legs intertwined with each other like they had been every night before you went to sleep and his head would be snuggled into your neck, breathing the familiar scent of shea butter that never seemed to fade away.

“well that’s one way to wake someone up,” you joked in an airy tone, enjoying the little nips of affection as you turned your head slightly to find him in a new position, one arm being folded, offering him support to look down at you.

“it’s a way to wake up my wife,” he corrected, both of you bursting into fits of giggles at the new title.

“can you believe it? we’re actually married. y/n malfoy, has a bit of a ring to it doesn’t it?”

he hummed in agreement, reaching down to grab your left hand, diamond ring being in it’s respected place as his pale hands nearly swallowed yours before pinning it above your head, leaning down to kiss your lips once more, just as he had been for hours before, no complaint coming from you.  

draco found that the neck kisses he’d give you was his favorite thing to do when he realized how much happiness the little gesture brought to you through the years. while he was upstairs in bed, you were watching the two five year olds running across the kitchen, hallways, living room before the cycle would repeat. it was no surprise they were chasing each other, they could never get along ever since they were small babies barely being the size of their fathers forearm.

they were a perfect mixture of you two, both having skin tones mere tones lighter than their mother while still somehow donning the curly tufts of bright blond hair that the malfoys were known for. you’d actually bet on it— that there was no way your kids would ever be born with such a light hair color while he argued that his genes were too strong. and you laughed it off, blaming it on his inflated ego but when you lost with the first, you lost with the second, your twins being the best things that had happened to your life.

“hey don’t hit your brother with that!”

“but mum—”

“don’t but mum be cass, now put the play broom away,” you scolded, the little girl letting out a dramatic groan before throwing the kid quidditch broom she had got for her birthday on the couch and starting her chase again.  

you suddenly felt two limbs wrap around your torso, relaxing into his touch as he gently swayed both of you side to side, his head on your shoulder for support. he’d slept in, wanting to spend his day off with his family but you allowed him an extra two hours while you got the kids ready.

“you could’ve woken me up love,” he mumbled, finding his way to your neck once again.

“i don’t think you could go without a good night’s rest for much longer— you actually got nine hours this time without getting up in the middle of the night.”

“you watch me while i sleep?” he asked, turning your body around to face him, his face slightly scrunched into a disgusted look.

“is there any better sight?”

“mmm, no i don’t think so,” he joked, leaning down to pull you into a long kiss.

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[sirtommyholland]

Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life. 

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted. 

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep. 

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again. 

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.”  she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly. 

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.” 

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.” 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!” 

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically. 

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on. 

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!” 

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name. 

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.” 

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake. 

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met. 

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice. 

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.” 

“... Morning Y/N.” 

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him. 

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her. 

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.” 

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!” 

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday. 

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.  

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine. 

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen. 

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine. 

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions. 

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” 

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box. 

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it. 

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.” 

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.” 

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.” 

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’ 

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday. 

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words. 

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug. 

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. 

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand. 

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.” 

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.” 

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration. 

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay. 

 some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

~~

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

[desertno3]

Violet – Chapter Five (6/7)

When Sean finally meets his daughter, you wonder why you ever left him in the first place. Sean Wallace x fem!reader Chapter Five: 2136 words

Prologue // Chapter One // Chapter Two  // Chapter Three // Chapter Four

A/N: Oh my god. It’s been so long since I updated. I offer you the longest chapter yet as a peace offering. Let me know what you think because this one was a lot of fun to write 🧡 Also I cried a lil but that’s just me getting emotional at literally anything fluffy, lol.

Taglist: @ysmmsy​ @prettyinpayne​ @the-a-word-2214​ @peakywitch​ @danceyreagan​ @ella1grace03 @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes​ @lovemissyhoneybee​

“Seeeaaaannn!” Violet yells excitedly as she runs up the path towards his front door.

Walking at a more leisurely pace behind her, you watch as it swings open and she all but launches herself at the man standing behind it.

“Hi Sean!”

“Hello, love,” He greets her, picking her up.

She grins excitedly and shows him the box she held in her hands, “Me and mummy brought dessert!”

Sean looks over to you and smiles when he meets your gaze. Your heart had already been preemptively fluttering as you pulled up and now, as you return the expression, it was out of control.

“Thanks Vi,” Sean tells her as he sets her back down. “Why don’t you go ahead and put that on the counter, hm? Your mum and I will be right there.”

Violet nods and patters down the hallway, holding the box of desserts close to her chest. 

“Don’t blame me if some of those pastries aren't the best,” You murmur to Sean as you both watch her go. “She really wanted to choose them for you.”

“I’m sure they’re great,” He chuckles before turning to face you. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” You tell him with a shrug. “Nothing new since we last spoke.”

You and Sean had been texting back and forth all week since the night he invited you over for dinner. At first it was just him asking what Violet’s favourite food was - to which you replied literally anything with pasta in it - but it gradually evolved to a casual back and forth where you’d tell him about your day and he’d tell you about his. 

“I’m glad I don’t have to cook tonight though,” You confess with a sly smile, making him laugh.

“Well, that was the whole point,” He says. “I wanted to treat you and Vi a little - I made your favourite as well, you know.”

You look at him in surprise, “Did you really?”

“Yeah, of course,” He says confidently, like it was an obvious course of action, and he steps aside and motions you into the house. “C’mon, before I burn everything that’s been cooking.”

You shake your head in disbelief, ignoring the fact that you quite literally wanted to melt, before following his lead and heading inside.

Just before you reach the kitchen, you see Violet’s head peeking out from around the corner, having been observing the pair of you as you chatted. You give her a knowing look and she lets out a giggle before Sean comes striding over to pick her up again, making her squeal in delight.

“Do you want to try the food, Vi?” He asks her and she nods eagerly.

You follow them into the kitchen and raise an eyebrow at the amount of things he had going on the stovetop.

“You sure it’s just the three of us, Sean?” You tease. “It looks like you’re cooking enough for a small village.”

Sean just flashes you a wry smile in response before setting Violet down on the kitchen counter.

“Alright,” He says, handing her a bowl with some pasta in it. “Let me know what you think.”

Violet makes a happy noise when she sees what’s in the bowl and before you could tell her to take it easy, she digs into it at an alarming speed - inevitably making a complete mess.

“You’d think I hadn’t fed you at all today,” You tut although you can’t help but be amused when she smiles approvingly at Sean, the food still in her mouth making her look like a little chipmunk.

“It tastes good, mummy!” She says when you come over to wipe the sauce from around her mouth.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it darling,” You tell her, thinking about all the dinner dates you and Sean used to have at home. “Sean's very good at cooking.”

You glance at Sean at the same time he turns from the stove to look at you and you just know the same thing is on his mind as well. There's a hint of a smirk on his face and you have to fight your blush, turning your attention back to Violet who was completely oblivious to the whole thing.

“Can I have more?”

You shake your head, “If you have any more, you’ll be full before dinner even starts.”

“No I won’t!”

“C’mon,” You say, ignoring her protest. “Let’s see what else Sean’s been cooking.”

 ~

"Is that what I think it is?" You ask dreamily as you come up behind Sean, wrapping your arms around his middle and peeking past his shoulder at the stovetop.

You’d had a long day but the delicious scent of your favourite food had perked you up considerably. It hit you the moment you entered the house and you wasted no time in immediately scurrying over to the kitchen to investigate. 

“It is,” Sean confirms, moving to comfortably place an arm around your shoulders.

You smile and look up at him curiously. “What’s the occasion?”

“Does there need to be one?”

“Well, no. But-”

“Maybe I just wanted to treat you, hm?” He says, his finger poking you in the side, making you yelp and jump away from him. “Maybe I just wanted to be a good boyfriend.”

You squirm when he reaches out to you, trying to avoid another jab, but he just pulls you back into his embrace. You smile and relax against his body, letting your arms rest on his shoulders.

“You’re always a good boyfriend,” You murmur as you look into his eyes but he immediately raises an eyebrow at the statement and you can’t help but laugh at his - quite valid - skepticism.

“Okay, you’re mostly a good boyfriend,” You concede, giving him a quick kiss. “Especially when you don’t come home all bloody.”

Your eyes fall on the healing bruise by his cheekbone but your attention is quickly diverted back to him when he moves to rest his forehead to yours.

“I love you, y/n.”

 "Y/n?"

Jolted out of your thoughts, your gaze snaps up to Sean standing by the kitchen sink, looking at you expectantly. 

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah,” You tell him, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment as you try and shake yourself from the vivid memory of being wrapped up in his arms. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

“You don’t have to help clear up, you know.”

“No it’s fine,” You assure him. “Really. I want to help.”

Not to mention that helping meant you could stick around a little bit longer.

Sean nods and continues loading the dishwasher. From the living room, you can hear Violet giggling at whatever she was watching on the TV. 

“What’s on your mind?” Sean asks, sparing you another glance.

You blink at him dumbly, trying to come up with a decent excuse, but you come up blank.

The dinner had made your feelings for him stronger than ever. You’d observed Violet swing her legs happily as she ate, her joy at having Sean around for dinner palpable, and you’d observed the way Sean doted on her, listening to her every word as she told him about anything and everything. You knew then that there was no denying the fact that you wanted Sean to be a permanent part of yours and Violet’s life. No denying the fact that you wanted Sean, full stop.

“I was just thinking about the dinners we used to have,” You tell him honestly, throwing all caution to the wind. “The dinner dates, I mean.”

Sean’s back to busying himself with the plates but you can see the smile on his face from where you stand.

"I've been thinking about those too,” He confesses. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You were a good boyfriend, you know,” You say, thinking back to the memory. Contrary to what you’d told him then, he had been a good boyfriend even when he got himself into trouble. “I- I should’ve trusted that you would always keep me safe. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

There’s a silence and your gaze drops to the countertop, embarrassed, but you can’t take it back now. You start occupying yourself with the containers still on the counter, too nervous to look up at him and see the expression on his face, but you have no choice when he abandons what he’s doing and crosses the kitchen to stand before you.

Your heart hammers violently in your chest as you look at him - partly afraid of what he’ll say and partly surprised at his close proximity.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” He says eventually, looking resigned. “I didn’t give you much reason to trust me, the way I’d go on taunting people I should’ve just left alone.”

You give him a sad smile and at this point he can’t help it, he reaches up and lightly caresses your cheek. You lean into his touch with a sigh, the action feeling all too familiar and all too foreign all at once.

"All I ever wanted was to make sure you were safe, y/n,” He breathes. “When you left… even I had to admit it was a smart thing to do on your part. I thought it meant you wouldn’t get caught up in the crossfire anymore.”

“I thought so too.”

“It terrified me when I got your call that night. I… thought the worst."

“You know,” You tell him quietly. “I half expected you wouldn’t answer once you knew it was me.”

“Why?”

“Thought you might’ve hated me.”

“I could never, y/n.”

Without even thinking about it, you launch forward and give him a hug, feeling so much emotion you think you might choke.

“Thank you Sean,” You manage to say with your cheek pressed against his chest. “For everything.”

He wraps his arms around you and, after a moment of deliberation, presses his lips to your forehead. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Muuum!” You jump, not expecting the sound of your daughter’s voice to pierce the air. “Sean! Come watch this movie with me!”

The both of you look in the direction of the living room while she calls out to you both and you let out a watery laugh at her timing. Sean chuckles too and as it reverberates through you, you realise neither of you have moved to let go of each other.

“We’ll be right there, Vi!” He calls out to her.

“Okay!”

“We should probably head off,” You say softly, looking back at him. “It’s getting late.”

Sean hums in acknowledgement but you can tell his mind is elsewhere, his gaze soft as it meets yours.

"Stay till the end of her movie," He asks of you. “I don’t want you to go just yet.”

You’re slightly dazed in his hold but you manage to nod. You wouldn’t have needed much convincing to agree in the first place.

Sean gives you a small smile, “You and her have been the best things to ever happen to me. I hope you know that.”

"We could say the same thing about you,” You tell him. “You've changed Vi’s world Sean, I've never seen her more happy than when she's with you."

"And you?” Sean inquires, searching your expression for an answer. “Are you happy too?"

You nod again, your voice barely above a murmur. “More than, since you’ve come back into my life."

You only have a second to register the glint of joy in his eyes because before you know it, his lips are on yours, kissing you like his life depended on it. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back and his hands immediately go to your waist to pull you flush against him, earning an involuntary whimper of pleasure out of you. God, you'd forgotten how good it felt with Sean.

You feel lightheaded when you finally pull away and the grin you see on his face is worth everything.

“I’ve missed this,” He murmurs, arms squeezing around you slightly. “Missed being with you.”

“Yeah,” You say breathlessly, fingers lightly running through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Me too.”

Just as he moves to capture your lips in another long kiss, you’re interrupted by another impatient shout from Violet.

You pull back and sigh at the way it breaks the moment you were having but Sean just chuckles and kisses you again anyway, like he can’t get enough of you.

“C’mon,” He says eventually, giving you one last quick peck before taking your hand in his. “Best go see what our daughter's up to."

Feeling the giddiest you’ve felt in a while, you let him pull you in the direction of the living room - and if Violet notices that you and Sean are sat closer together on the couch than normal during the movie, she doesn’t say anything.