#there is 1 harry pairing I actively like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jawllines · 2 years ago

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But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing.

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, ��Just in the room?”

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.”

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.”

Y/N finds out a secret and Harry finds a rat

part 1

part 2

iii.

Y/N has never been so embarrassed.

The hike was her idea; granted, she’s not a big hiker to begin with, and she hardly believes the sneakers she wore were meant for more than casual ambling in a park — but she thought it could be fun. After being cooped up in her flat for a little over a week, she was desperate just to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on her skin. It was one thing to be locked away when the weather was bitter and uninhabitable, but it was finally getting warmer, and whispers of Spring were carried in the wind. An open window could only preclude her feelings of claustrophobia for so long before she needed to go outside.

Since Harry could typically get Thomas to agree to things she’d never thought he might agree to before, he was the one she asked. However, due to the recent attempted kidnapping, even he seemed reluctant to the proposal and Y/N had imagined her plans had fallen through before they’d even truly been constructed. At least she did until Harry sent her a message a little past midnight the following night, with a link that directed her to a trail’s website. Would this be okay? His message read, and Y/N grinned so hard her cheeks were sore as she replied with “Yes!” ten times.

Y/N is not one who would find joy in exerting herself but she was filled to the brim and gushing with an eagerness she hasn’t felt since being a child, the night before visiting a zoo. She did not for a second consider how sore she’d probably be, especially from the number of hills this trail included along the side of what wasn’t big enough to be a mountain but was certainly large enough to give the illusion. All she could focus on was the thought of the wind kissing her face and the sound of morning birds singing. Aching muscles be damned, she could just take a hot bath when they got back, and maybe she could persuade Harry to massage her feet if it was that bad.

By the time Y/N woke up Friday morning, Harry was already in her kitchen preparing breakfast but that was hardly shocking. It was her second time witnessing him outside of a pressed suit and she couldn’t say that she was disappointed; Harry looked awfully cute in his hiking clothes. A hoodie that swallowed him up, athletic shorts pulled over black leggings, and a pair of bright red shoes that she could not imagine him plucking out of a store. A beanie was nestled over his head, but he had a hair clip locked around the edge of it, almost like he had it on standby in case he got too warm.

He turned to face her, smiling warmly as he flipped a pancake, “I didn’t know if you had a water bottle, so I brought an extra one,” he greeted her, “And I bought some of those warm packs you activate by shaking in case it’s chillier than we anticipated.”

“We need to get a stroller for your kitties so they can come too,” Y/N told him, as she hiked herself up on the barstool beside the counter, Harry working on the side adjacent to her. She rested her face against her fist, watching him putter around putting together the meal. There was something imminently gratifying about putting a man to work in her kitchen while she swung her legs and waited patiently to be fed, so she reveled in that feeling while he answered.

“I actually do have a stroller,” he told her, “But since this is our first time, I thought it would be better to see the trail before bringing them.”

With a sigh, Y/N agreed. Harry has brought them over three times since the first and Y/N enjoyed every second of it – he’d explained to her that as long as she doesn’t mind, he’ll bring them over often. This way he gets to spend extra time with them while he’s working and Y/N gets her animal fill as they meander throughout her flat, making it their second home. He’s even left them there overnight once, when he would be returning the following morning but wasn’t necessarily going home (their schedules make no sense to her, not even a little, and she wondered when the hell they ever slept), and Y/N really liked that. She woke up to Gremlin at her feet and Goose nestled against her breast beneath the blankets (and if she hadn’t been so sure that moving would stir them both, she would have taken a picture to send to him).

They ate breakfast and Y/N pulled on an outfit she hoped would be multifunctional no matter what weather they would face or how much exerting herself would make her sweat. Even the walk to the parking garage lifts her with excitement, happy to finally be leaving the flat.

“You’re awful chipper,” Harry remarked, following close behind her, his fingers looped around his keys, “Normally for this early in the morning, you’ve grumbled about something by now.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Of course I’m chipper,” she walked around to the passenger seat of the car, “I’m free for a little while! You forget that I’m fucking stuck in there until someone breaks me out, while you can come and go as you see fit, really.” She smiled at the thought of the sun hitting her face, “It’s going to be so nice today too – I can’t wait.”

“Mm, it is going to be nice,” he agreed mildly, “I’ll keep you out for as long as I can, yeah? But I’m sure Thomas will be blowing my phone up.” He smiled gently, “Things are still. . .fresh.”

Y/N buckled herself in, brows dipped, “Hm? Did you guys not catch the guy? I thought you did and that’s the only reason I’m being uncaged.”

“We did,” Harry’s lips straightened out, a dubious glint flickered past his gaze before he snuffs it out, “For the most part.”

“For the most part?” She repeated with a small sigh – she wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions, she just wanted him to be straightforward.

Harry hummed, “Yes, they found the “mugger” – it was his son,” Y/N’s brows raised, “Both have been dealt with appropriately for now but of course, everyone is still concerned that this wasn’t just an isolated incident. Things are going to be. . .a little tighter lately, so I was surprised Thomas agreed to this in the first place, but I did push pretty hard.”

She smiled and nudged his shoulder, “That’s why I like you,” she told him, “Dunno’ what you’re doing to bewitch him but keep doing it, I like doing things.”

The day had started out so well; Y/N isn’t sure how Harry had found this trail but it was pretty. It started out as a gravel patch of parking lot with a big wooden sign that read Green Haven Trail in big, bold letters, and to the left of it, a small brick building housing a restroom. It had rained last night, so the air smelled of moist earth and morning dew, and it’s a scent that she believes she normally takes for granted. Right now she isn’t though – right now she feels it slip through her nares, down to her lungs. She was more than pleased that it isn’t humid or else each breath would feel wet, and her skin would feel sticky, and she thinks that would have made her sad. Her first time out of the flat in how long, only to be accosted by unpleasant weather? Surely, she’d just lock herself in her room at that point.

Most of the trail was paved but there were clear sections deeper in, where people had broken off from the designated path and wore down the grass and foliage to create a new route. If she couldn’t see where this off-path trail led, then she wouldn’t have suggested they go near it, but she could make out that it guided them to a mini waterfall from a creak. And after the rain, she knew it would be overflowing and beautiful, so she suggested they go toward it with the best pleading gaze she could give him (though it certainly wasn’t necessary – she believes Harry is a man of strong will typically, but if she asks him for something he typically gives in pretty easy).

For a moment he seemed hesitant but eventually agreed, so they went toward it, and Y/N marveled at the rocks, the surfaces altering from smooth to rough and jagged, how the water toppled over them dropping down into the large well of the creek. If the weather was just a little warmer she would suggest sticking her feet in but it was still a little too brisk for it. So she made a mental note of this place for mid-June when the hike would undoubtedly be miserable in the summer heat, but the best part of it would be sinking their feet into this well of cold water and kicking them as they cooled down and ate a snack. Y/N assumed she would be with Harry again because. . .well, she usually is with him, isn’t she?

They stayed there for a while for a short break, since they’d been walking for about thirty minutes uphill at that point. Y/N’s legs were already tired and she was in the middle of trying to find an excuse for them to turn around and start making their way back before she was really tired – but there was no need. No, why would she need a reason for them to turn around when she unwittingly gives them one?

They had to trek down a small hill to get within closer visual distance of the waterfall and search the creek with their gazes for any potential fish or tadpoles swimming around in the greenish water. Going downhill to get there, meant going uphill to return, and while it wasn’t steep there was a decent-sized slope. Several jutted pieces of stone and rock and root should have made it a relatively easy way back up. Yet somehow, when Y/N tries to balance the sole of her shoe against the curve of a rock, she loses her footing. Her body rocks face first into the dirt, and she knocks her knee against a stone and cuts up her palm from the tree root she’d been gripping onto. Before she could tumble all the way down to the creek, Harry placed his hands on her to keep her steady, one at her hip and the other between her shoulder blades, “Holy shit!” He cried out, his voice echoing in the empty woods, “Are you alright?”

So now, they definitely had to turn back, because Y/N had dirt smudged on her face, a few leaves in her hair (though Harry did pluck those out for her while they walked), her knee was sore, and her palm was cut up. Y/N doesn’t cry but she wants to, not just because her knee aches, or her hand throbs, or the dirt makes her face feel gross and grimy. All of that she could deal with well enough.

What she couldn’t deal with, was the fact that she fell in the first place, in front of Harry of all people. How embarrassing – god, she couldn’t stop thinking about it but she wanted to wipe it from her brain entirely and pretend it never happened. But Harry is Harry, there is no way that he would ever let this go without making a sly comment about it every now and then. Especially once she’s all patched up and he knew for sure she was okay.

She kept replaying the moment in her head: the squawky sound that left her mouth, how dumb she must have looked as she scrambled to stop herself only for Harry to be the one to halt her movement. He probably thought she looked like an idiot – no, she knows he did because why wouldn’t he? If it had happened to anyone but her, Y/N would have found some humor in it, and maybe she was just a bad person but there were compilations of people falling on the internet for a reason.

Under different circumstances, Y/N would avoid the bathroom at all costs because it seemed like a staff infection waiting to happen but she tried to get into this one, only to find it locked. So not only did she embarrass herself in front of Harry, she had to sit in the car for forty minutes, uncomfortable, her knee aching and her face dirty. At the realization, she felt like she really could cry then, but the only thing that stopped her was the potential for further embarrassment.

“It could have been worse,” Harry tried to soothe her once they were back in the car, “Had I not been there to save your life, you could be in the creek right now.”

“Shut up, or I’ll shove you in a creek,” she grumbled, brows furrowed at him, “Didn’t you promise to return me unscathed? This is coming out of your paycheck.” He only chuckles at her.

The drive home was uneventful, and so was the walk up to her flat. As soon as they get through the doors, Harry directs her to the bathroom and says he’d be in there in a moment with a first aid kit, and Y/N has no fight left to argue. She went in, avoided looking at her face, and plopped down right on the toilet seat, waiting patiently for him. Harry appeared, looking a little too cute out of his leggings, now only in shorts that rode up pretty high on his thigh. He’s got nice legs – Y/N’s been thinking about them often lately.

First, he tends to her palm, flipping it over and pouting at the sight of it, “Your poor hand,” he muttered sympathetically, caressing the flesh just below her thumb, “Does it hurt?”

Y/N is unsure if he’s mocking her with how sweet his voice was, but she doesn’t fuss over it – honestly, she kind of likes it, “Yeah, a little.” She replied and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Poor thing,” he reached inside the kit, “We’ll get you sorted.”

After he cleaned it, then slathered it in the antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it up with gauze and a bandage, he got a washcloth wet. It took her a second to realize what he was about to do, until he was suddenly closer to her face than she expected, tenderly swiping away at the dirt smudged over her face. Y/N has trouble keeping her breathing even then.

This is the closest she and Harry had been since the night they kissed, and she couldn’t keep her brain from conjuring memories of it. Especially when his lips were looking particularly soft today, and slick from whatever chapstick he was using, almost like they were begging for another mouth to press against them. The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow and the pout of his mouth supplicates for her lips to trap it between them. To relive last week, how eagerly he’d kissed her, how his hands had slid to her waist, how he squeezed her –

Honestly, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was skilled at acting indifferent to things like this and she’s certain Harry didn’t notice it was dawdling within her thoughts because he would have brought it up – but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. Every day, a few times a day, Y/N is suddenly accosted with a slew of images, all of which involve Harry's puckered mouth.

Because she’d like to do it again – she wanted to do it again, but there was no way to just ask for it, was there? Not without being weird about it. At least that night they had been drinking, and if they really wanted to they could blame it on liquid loosening prior inhibitions. If Y/N was asking for it completely sober, then there was no turning back from that – then it was something they had to talk about and that’s difficult. Not to mention, she shouldn’t be canoodling with her bodyguards anyway. The time with Niall was a one-off, and she’d never had the urge or desire to do it again (well, maybe once or twice, but that was neither here nor there) – but she wanted it again with Harry. Honestly, she thinks she wants more than just the kiss with Harry.

And they hadn’t even really discussed the first one yet! Why would they tack on a second kiss?

With Niall, it was much easier; she sucked him off, and he came in her mouth, they laughed about it and then tried to finish the movie they were watching before both of them promptly fell asleep. When they woke up there was no awkward tension lingering in the air, she swatted him with a pillow so that he would get off the couch and go with her to a new cookie place as he’d promised. Life settled back in as normal, Y/N barely remembered what his cum tasted like after eating an iced sugar cookie, and that was that.

But with Harry, the whole night persists in her memories. How he admitted to being jealous thinking about her with Niall, and how he wants to be her favorite guard. The taste of his tongue and the impression of his mouth pushed against hers. How he pressed his thumb into her chin and pulled her lips open wider for himself, how heady the feeling was, the caress of his fingers on her hips, her wrists, her jaw. Her cheeks warm when she thinks about crawling into his lap, how she felt him hard beneath her before he pulled away – before he stopped it from going any further.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder just how far it would have gone had he not withdrawn from her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harry murmured, and only then does Y/N realize that she’d been staring directly at him as he still carefully wiped away the dirt, “I’m getting shy.”

Brows pinching toward each other, Y/N frowns at him, “You’re like three centimeters from my face, where the hell else am I supposed to look?” She praises herself for willing the words so quickly from her mouth, instead of floundering how she wanted to when she’d been caught gawking (Harry always teased her that she reverted to her extreme “brat-ish tendencies” once cornered and she continuously proved him right).

Harry has a knowing smile that Y/N wants to flick off his face like he could read her mind through each of her pores. He always kind of had that look on him though, that would suggest he knew what Y/N was thinking and feeling before maybe even she did. It annoyed her more than anything.

“You’re being rather rude to someone who saved a clumsy little thing like you from drowning in a creek.” He murmured, standing up from the spot he’d been kneeling before her and tossing the wet cloth into the sink with a wet slap. He holds one finger out to her, a silent command to stay put, and Y/N finds herself listening to him until he returns with a bottle of water. With that in one hand, he pulled open her medicine cabinet and retrieved the paracetamol, popping the cap open and shaking two into his palm, “You need to take these or your knee is going to be sore. Say ahhh,” he held them in his fingers, hovering them over her mouth.

She scoffed, “My knee is already sore. Give me that, you dick,” she clasps her hands around his, swiping the pills and pushing them past her lips before grabbing for the bottle of water.

“There you go,” he ignored her insult, “That’s a good girl – y’know, you’re a brat, but you listen well when you want to. Kind of like a fussy cat.”

A flush of warmth ran from her face, down her throat, and across her chest – the praise, no matter how backhanded, was still praise and Y/N felt her veins twinkle with it. Harry doesn’t seem to notice how it affects her, and if he does, then he is kind enough not to be a pest for once and keep it to himself. He held out his hand for her to take, helping her lift off the seat, “You aren’t limping, which is good, but we’ll still ice it. If you show up to your parent’s house with a bruised knee and scratched-up hand, I’m sure it wouldn’t be appreciated.”

The reminder makes her grimace – she’d almost forgotten about that. Adam was the first to tell her about it weeks and weeks ago, and then her father reminded her just last week, yet she let it slip her mind again. Willfully she lets it slip from her mind, neglecting the thought – it was always a little awkward meeting with everyone. When she was little, they would coo over her and how cute she was which she had enjoyed at the time, but she had long since passed the age of being cooed at because she was in a pretty dress. And when she was little, she could fuck off and play pretend somewhere with her cousins or by herself and nobody questioned anything because she was like 7 years old and barely knew how to divide numbers.

Y/N longs for the solace of being little and not needing to be socially present during family events; life was much easier when she could check out and nobody cared.

“Are you going with me?” Y/N inquired as she followed him out of the bathroom, tugging down the zipper of her jacket and wiggling it off her arms.

“Hm?”

“To the family thing,” she dropped the jacket in her hamper, leaving her in a sports bra but she thinks nothing of it while she waits for his response, “Were you the one going with me?”

Harry pauses, if only for a brief second, and Y/N sees a look she’s never seen before flicker through his face before he’s smiling again, “Aw, cute! You want me to be there with you?”

She did, for some reason, she felt like it would be better with him there. Adam and Niall always get pulled off at things like this, but Y/N felt like Harry might stay by her side for it. She had nothing to base this feeling on beyond just knowing it in her gut.

And when she doesn’t grumble or call him an asshole for teasing her, Harry must realize she’s serious, because the gleam in his eyes softens to one that is gentle and pitying, “It won’t be me accompanying you, though I would love to,” he told her, “I’m wanted elsewhere that day.”

She frowned at him, already feeling the whine bubble in her chest before he could finish his sentence, “Just tell them that you don’t want to do that and you want to do this instead.”

“As much as the princess’s word is considered –”

“Eat shit.”

“ – I believe that request would be denied. Thomas wants me for a more delicate and potentially violent matter, so that’s where I’ll be.” He sighed, thumbing over his eyebrow, “Though you do manage to be delicate and violent as well, maybe I could ask for a trade.”

Y/N flipped him off before plopping down on the couch, watching as he began to kick off his shoes at the doorway now that they were settling inside. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the reason Harry wasn’t going was more than him being needed elsewhere but she couldn’t come up with good enough logic to back the claim. Unless he was the Harry from her childhood, and he was desperately trying to avoid a situation where that fact may be found out, but even that doesn’t seem like his speed. He was much too casual and unconcerned for her to think he’d go to that level just to keep up some weird little secret.

That doesn’t mean she’s a hundred percent convinced, but she just dwells on it a little less.

“It’ll be okay, you know,” Harry says after a while, as he’s opening up her windows, pulling the curtains open to let sunlight pour into her room; it glitters off her coffee table and places a glare over her tv, and the sweet chirp of birds still singing early in the morning fills her flat (along with the sound of cars driving below them but the morning traffic had slowed considerably by that point), “Just a few hours of family shit, and then you’ll be done. Can come home and take a shower and relax afterward.” Y/N follows him around the room as he goes to her other window, “It won’t be so bad. Maybe you’ll even have a little fun.”

She doesn’t have it in her to fight him, “Yeah, maybe,” she offered quietly in return, leaning her head back and letting her eyes flutter closed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her knee, “It just feels weird to see them is all, and having nothing to show for the years that have passed since I’ve seen them last. Like. . .I dunno, I have to sit and listen to everyone else and their successes and I’m happy for them but I can’t help but. . .wish that I had something too. But all I’ve got is attempted kidnappings and a hobby that I haven’t perfected when I’ve got nothing but time to perfect it.” Y/N puffs a mirthless laugh.

“Self-depreciation doesn’t look good on you,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and he sounds closer than he was before but she keeps her eyes shut, “Why don’t you start selling your art?”

That does make her peek an eye at him, “Listen, I know I’m having a little pity party, but I don’t need you being mean and adding to it.”

“I’m not being mean,” he retrieved a package of frozen vegetables from her freezer before he made his way to sit down beside her, body turned so he faced her directly, “I’m giving you an idea. Your art is good, and all the comments people have made on it in class tell you how cute the things you draw are. So yeah, maybe they wouldn’t sell in some smarmy art gallery, but they would definitely make a cute sticker on a water bottle or a laptop case. And what’d you get your degree in, wasn’t it business related? Marketing?” Y/N’s face pinches up.

“So?”

“So put two and two together, Darling, you’re smart,” he told her, “You make cute stickers and you have some understanding of marketing – start selling them online!”

It. . .wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever heard. The people in the class had called her drawings cute, even the instructor had told her they were charming in a cutesy way. If other people liked them – if Harry really thought that other people would like them enough to stick them somewhere they had to look often – that would give her something to do, wouldn’t it? Something to focus on. . .something that could entirely be her own, and didn’t have to be a question of her safety, with no worry about getting her from point A to point B, and her name wouldn’t be out there. She could do it all under a different name! Loads of Etsy shops and the like don’t have the artist’s real name at all.

It could just be her own little thing, and if it didn’t work, she could scrap the idea and pretend it never happened. But it was something. . .it could be hers.

“Hm.” That is all she replied, despite the cogs clicking and turning in her brain.

Harry sighed, plopping down in the space beside her, “I reckon you just like being difficult,” he told her, stretching one long leg out so it was sitting beneath the table, “Hm? I think you like trying to rile me up.”

“Maybe.”

. . .

Y/N has been having nightmares.

As a child, she used to get them a lot. Sometimes they could be vivid; feel as real as a memory and Y/N would have trouble separating what was real and what was a dream. It was an unfortunate byproduct of a burdened subconscious, or at least that’s what the child psychologist told Thomas. And he then took a far more strict and tender approach to isolate her from the world of her parent’s work, which Y/N never really understood. Why wait until a child begins to show emotional distress before keeping them from something potentially emotionally distressing?

They come and go, depending on the current state and status of her life. Times of stress brought them prolonged and heavy, bogging down her brain like waterlogged branches in a typically dry terrain. A monsoon of shadowy figures, hushed low voices, and crimson puddles. Trying to close her eyes but they’re being held open, trying to move through dense air with gelatinous limbs, trying to scream but her voice just barely leaves her throat. It’s nothing but frustration bubbling to her boil through her veins in the worst way, and when she finally does wake up, it lingers for a few minutes as she acclimates to being conscious.

Once she has one, she’ll have them almost nightly until the problem is addressed or they eventually wither away. She doesn’t bring them up much – Niall and Adam know about them, but Thomas isn’t aware, though she doesn’t think he’d actually care. And she isn’t sure if her parents were even aware of her first round of them when they had concerned the nannies and guards enough to report them to Thomas. If they did know, they never brought it up.

So she guesses it made sense that nobody alerted Harry to their existence if they were to ever occur while he was there.

They had started happening two weeks ago, shortly after the attempted kidnapping. It was scary, though it didn’t get very far, knowing that someone could find her location so easily was worrisome for future endeavors. And had this guy been more tactful and maybe a touch more forceful, then the situation could have gone horrendously bad – she could have been in a lot of trouble, and when her mind starts wandering to what could have been waiting for her. . .it’s awful.

For the most part, they had been pretty tame. Y/N wakes up disoriented and groggy around 4 AM, she wanders out to the living room to find whoever was there that night, and if they were awake she’d make them both tea and stay up for a while. Niall was there the first night, and when she suddenly appeared in front of him with her hand stretched out, holding a mug to him, he gave her a knowing look, “Hm? Nightmare?” She nodded, and he made room for her on the couch, moving his computer, his iPad, or whatever he had brought over to keep himself busy for the night, “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, “Fine, then you’re g’na have to listen to me rant about this fucking series I’m watching because. . . .”

Adam asks fewer questions and most of the time is asleep when she wanders out but when her door clicks open he’s pulled from his sleep with a snort, “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm,” he would hum, “Go back to bed then, I’m not ready to socialize.”

“I’ll just be up for a little, you can stay asleep,” she’d assure him, but she didn’t want to be alone, so she would make her tea and then sit on her feather blue recliner (that she was surprised he isn’t inhabiting) with her phone. Adam would say he’d stay up with her but make no move to change his position, so he always ended up back to sleep anyway.

Bill and Martha were usually asleep too when she wandered out, but they were never ones for much conversation anyway. They would open their eyes, see she is in no imminent danger, then go right back to bed and that was that (nothing and nobody could make her feel more like a little kid than those two, and Thomas when she does see him). She would putter around her kitchen quietly, but take her tea into her room, wrapped up in her blankets and clicking through Youtube videos on her telly, comforted by the knowledge she isn’t alone in the flat.

Some days there is nobody there with her at night, maybe an extra guard lingering outside the building, but no one inhabits her living room. Those nights Y/N is suddenly confronted with the harsh reminder that she lives in a constant state of fear, gnawing at her lip, jumping at every creak or click that echoed against the walls. It makes her feel like an idiot so she doesn’t bring it up to anybody, that on a regular night being alone can be weird, but on a night she’s had a bad dream it could be weird and long. It was stupid and made her feel like a child.

Tonight, for whatever reason, the dream was a lot rougher than it had been. While the prior nightmares were more nondescript things and hazy situations that she could just tell were bad but did not have comprehensible images of – this was much more lucid. Every touch felt like a burn against her skin, the hand cupped over her mouth and squeezed her nose shut stealing her breath away, the heart racing panic struck her fast, and her fingertips felt numb. She was thrashing, her throat sore from screaming, she needed help – she needed it right then, but there was nobody there. She was alone, she’s always been alone, she’s never safe, never, never, never –

“Y/N!”

Her eyes split open, the beat of her heart pounding through her chest and ringing through her ears, and her trembling hands stay still at her sides. It took her a few silent, panicked moments before she realized she’d been woken up from a dream, staring at the figure who slowly, but surely, becomes Harry through her bleary gaze. Almost instantaneously relief floods through her, and icy spikes that dotted her vessels are now replaced with warmth, melting them. Y/N isn’t sure if the comfort is brought by the fact that she knows she’s awake so much as it is brought by seeing Harry – he usually showed up in her dream, and dream her was always reassured by his presence. His face usually meant whatever was plaguing her was finished – whatever shadowy, dark figure digging their nails into her arm dissipated.

It was not until Harry spoke her name again that Y/N finally realized she’d been dreaming but she was awake now. Her eyes burn and her cheeks are wet – she’d been crying? Her bones feel stiff and creaky as she pushes herself from the mattress, pressing her knuckles against her eyes to try and rub the sleep from them. “You were having a bad dream?” Harry’s voice is low, his tone gentle, like he was creeping up on a resting bear and was worried to startle it.

Y/N nodded wordlessly. The most he gets from her is a small hum as she tries to organize herself and her thoughts; she isn’t used to someone being here as she wakes up, staring at her warily, so she tries to force herself to speed it up. She didn’t want to worry him. And now that she thinks about it, when was the last time he’d spent the night here? He probably didn’t even know she had dreams like this to begin with.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry pressed carefully, and there was a small thud of four feet landing on the bed. She looked over to see Goose pad over to her, rubbing up against her torso and finding a spot in her lap before a low rumble of purrs overcame her.

“What time is it?” Y/N inquired.

Harry looks at his watch, “2 AM.”

“Too late to talk about it,” she murmured, though she still felt shaken up. Her hands tremble as she smoothes them down Goose’s back, searching for more comfort in the soft fur, a wobbly rise and fall of each breath from her chest, “Was I being loud?”

Harry gave her a small, empathetic smile, “Just a little,” he told her, “We could hear you,” it took her a second to realize we meant him and the cats, “And Goose was sitting outside of your door. At first I thought maybe you were awake, talking on the phone or something but you started yelling for help.”

Grimacing, she frowns, at the image of Harry clambering to get up and burst through her door, overwrought with worry and his adrenalin spiking. His job – the whole reason he is here – is to keep her safe. So how horrifying is it to hear that one objective may be compromised in the middle of the night, on a floor way too high for someone to have snuck through a window? “I’m sorry, that was – that’s probably scary.”

“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t my favorite experience,” he agreed, “But I’m glad I could wake you up from it.” She scratched between Goose’s ears, feeling warm that the cat was concerned enough to sit outside her door once she heard her. She’s sure Gremlin is still blissfully sleeping wherever he was originally. “Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Call me if you need anything.”

Y/N had thought that she was feeling better – she was awake, and she knew she was awake, so there was no reason for the same rimy panic that had been suffocating her to return at the mention of Harry leaving. Nor was there a reason for her to reach out and grab his wrist before he could get too far, a pitiful refusal pulled from her lips that feel sore and dry, she’s sure from her own teeth. Harry was safe – he couldn’t leave this soon after she’d woken up, she still needed a little bit – still wanted to be near him, and to hear him talk or even just sit silently at his side.

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?”

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.”

“Fuck off,” she grumbled, but it held little spite to it. Y/N wiggles back down beneath her covers, and Goose – disturbed but never grouchy – walks to the side, waits for Y/N to find a position she’s content in, and then returns. Y/N lays on her side so Goose tucks herself along her belly as she likes to, curling her face into her paws. Gremlin, who must have finally roused from his own blissful slumber, appeared on the bed at Harry’s feet before taking a seat, his tail undulating behind himself, waiting patiently for Harry to snuggle beneath the blankets.

“Had I known you slept on a cloud every night, I would have asked for this sooner,” Harry said quietly, breaking through the silence of the room, only previously broken by the whirring of her fan above them, “It smells good in here too.”

Y/N watches him closely, as his head is against her pillow. Nobody else has ever laid in her bed before, and Y/N only ever sleeps on the left side of it, so she’s sure the right feels just as it did when she bought it. It’s weird to see someone there – but it only feels natural that it would be Harry, for whatever reason. Among the cotton, rosy pink duvet cover, in a long sleeve undershirt, his body having disappeared up to his shoulders snuggled beneath the comforter. He looks cute, especially when he turns to face her, and gives her a big closed-mouth smile that she told him in the past made him look like a pleased frog.

“You’re comfortable?” Y/N inquired and once Harry nodded, she finally closed her eyes again, “That’s good.”

Some time passes. Y/N is unsure how long, but she’s almost certain that she’s fallen asleep until Harry's voice, syrupy and smooth as it always is, slithers into her ear, “I know you don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine,” he murmured, “But I just want you to know, I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. Never.” .

She falls asleep easily then.

. . .

Y/N used to have nightmares when she was younger, Harry had vague memories of that.

“I had a nightmare that a bad guy tried to kill me again,” she told him casually one day when they were on the swings, like it was the most normal conversation in the world, “It really sucked. They were super mean.”

“Did you get away?” Harry remembered being concerned, even as a child. Y/N was younger than him, not by much, but enough that he’d felt a sense of responsibility for her. Harry hated his bad dreams, so he empathized with her plight. Whenever he had a bad dream, his mum usually came into his room and comforted him, but Y/N told him once that her mum didn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night for something not urgent. If she had a bad dream and woke up scared but the sun wasn’t out, she would hug her teddy tight and will herself back to sleep – that’s what she had told him, at least.

With a shrug of her small shoulders, she kicked her legs back and forth in smooth glides, “Dunno’, I woke up before he could.”

He was concerned then and he was concerned now.

When Y/N offered him the spot next to her, Harry didn’t hesitate for even a moment. If she was scared enough to stuff away that prideful, bratty side of her to request it, then Harry wouldn’t make her second guess herself. Instead, he tried to make it as normal as possible, with a small tease as he crawled in beside her. He’d resigned himself to the idea of staying awake until he knew for sure she was fast asleep. It took ten minutes or so, but eventually, her measured, even breaths and sleepy sighs lull him into his own slumber.

Harry wakes two or three hours later, warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep, which he wouldn’t have questioned if not for how icy cold Y/N typically kept her room. For a brief moment, he thinks that maybe her fan shut off and he made the conscious decision to get up and turn it back on for her, but when he moves, he feels a weight on his arm that stopped him. A weight that is different from that of Goose or Gremlin.

Once he opened his eyes, Harry found that Y/N was snuggled up against him.

It wasn’t in a sweet, movie-like way as things like this typically went in stories and movies. It was in a very Y/N-like way though – her left leg thrown across his hip, her body flush against him, her face halfway jammed in his chest and her arm stretched over his neck; she’s about one sleepy shuffle away from smothering him with her bicep if she moved just right. Harry thinks it’s very telling that she does not sleep with someone often because she had somehow rolled herself all the way over to his side when there had been a good distance between them to start.

Carefully, he began to reshape her, moving her arm from over his throat. Harry had been making a conscious effort to be gentle so she stayed asleep, but a small grumble lifted into the air around them that sounds close to “Stop it.” but when Harry says her name, there is no response. Instead, she wiggles her shoulders, her arm finding a place around his waist instead, and scooted closer.

Tch, he rolled his eyes but he could feel a fond smile pulling at his cheeks, She’s even a brat in her sleep.

Harry lets himself enjoy it for a little while. The warmth of Y/N pressed to his side, the peach-scented lotion still permeating from her skin, the feel of each rise and fall from her chest as she took a breath. His insides feel cotton-soft and melty, he traces circles in the center of her back and waits patiently for her to fall deeper into her head. Once she does, he tries again to carefully remove her from the glued position she’d been in, because while he likes being cuddled close to her, he knew she would be mortified if she woke up.

This time she goes easily, letting him lie her arm at her side before sliding his hand beneath her thigh, attentively guiding it off of his hip. Y/N stretches, and turned away from him, her arms sliding around a pillow and hugging her face against it. What a cuddly little thing, Harry thinks, she’s probably searching for something (or someone) to put her arms around the whole night. It makes his heart twist in his chest, a weird mix between an ache and a yearning for her. He wondered if these bad dreams would disappear if she always had someone there to cuddle to her body, like an oversized stuffy.

The idea of it has a pout forming on his lips. Y/N, in the time he’s known her, is driven heavily by physical affection that she is not receiving often. She may grouse when Adam touches her shoulder when he reaches over her head to get in the cabinet, but she leans into his hand. If Niall is around, chances are Y/N is touching him in some way, either with her legs across his lap, or their hips side by side (which. . .Harry has no right to feel an ugly twinge in his chest any time he sees it but that doesn’t stop it from happening). Martha wasn’t the soft type, but Harry had walked in on Y/N leaning against the pillow Martha held to her body while they watched the telly. When Harry had come to her room in a panic, just to see for himself that she was okay (after Otto’s botched kidnapping attempt), she melted against his knuckles that he couldn’t help but stroke against her cheeks.

Harry had met her parents several times – they were. . .kind as they could be, with what they do, but they were not the nurturing type. They were cool and distant, and even though Harry knows they love their daughter, and talk sweetly, they just didn’t seem like the type to cuddle and coddle. And instead of growing an aversion to touch, she grew too long for it, even in small doses, even from her bodyguards. Where else could she get it? Harry is certain if she went out with her friends she would be touchy and clingy, flopped over them in some way, shape, or form.

Gremlin moves relatively little with the change in positions, and Goose lets out an annoyed huff before following Y/N’s body, snuggling up against her back. It was almost disgustingly cute how much Goose enjoyed her girl time with Y/N; even though she was the less fickle of the two, she really didn’t warm up that easily to people but with Y/N, it only took a couple of days before she was sleeping in her lap. Harry thinks that not only are cats a good judge of character, but they seek out people who need healing, like little furry psychotherapists that say nothing but do plenty. Where he would normally be a bit jealous, he was glad that Goose had chosen Y/N to snuggle with and love on her.

Harry sighs to himself. It’s only a matter of time before Y/N realizes that she’s been right all along about knowing him, he was just holding his breath and waiting for it. In his head, when he’d started this, the idea of keeping it all a secret from her seemed easier. There would be no need to go into the details of why he left, to relive any of it, to divulge what he had done, or to break his promise to Thomas, to his father, to her father. He could go on with her like they were two strangers and his past didn’t matter. And Harry doesn’t know why it is so important to him that she didn’t think the sweet boy he was turned into the man he is today; it felt as though it broke the mirage of normalcy his childhood had there for a little while. If the image Y/N held in her head of him was altered, it would pull at his stomach and tug around his heart. The boy she knew was good, not a drop of blood on his hands – the man she knew now had hands covered in the murk and filth of gang politics, rivalries and wars, drugs and guns.

To keep the two mutually exclusive brought him more comfort.

But Y/N is perceptive and she recognized him almost immediately. As smart as she was, and as sneaky as she could be, he had a feeling deep in his gut that she would be seeking answers at her parent’s house. It would be easier if Harry wasn’t there too, so she wouldn’t have to sneak around him to do it. And if she finds out. . .well, Harry has accepted that it might happen and he could only hope that she isn’t too angry with him. In the grand scheme, it has changed very little of their dynamic. Harry is a completely different person than he was when he left this place – when he left her.

His biggest regret, looking back at it, was leaving her alone. Even before this title, when they were just kids playing, he always kind of felt like her unofficial bodyguard. Or even just a companion for her – she didn’t have many other friends, and for whatever reason, both of their parents (or more so his parents and Thomas) thought it was a fine idea to just have them play with one another. Harry thinks it would have been a one-time thing when his father was first getting heavily involved with them, however from what he had heard at the time, Y/N had requested him.

Or maybe requested was a strong word. He supposes the better way of phrasing it was when Harry's father told him that the little friend he made the week prior asked, “Where is Harry? Is he coming to play?” Which was a request enough for Thomas to invite him to a park that day. They saw each other pretty much weekly after that, depending on what was happening or the state of affairs the organization was in. Actually, Harry doesn’t even think Y/N remembers that much – he had a slightly bigger involvement in her life than he thinks she realizes. But when he speaks to Y/N about her childhood (or more, when she brings up a random anecdote), he finds that she doesn’t recall quite a few things about it. Like her brain had packed it away in storage boxes and stuffed it up in the attic – he’d once read that memory loss was an intrinsic, almost instinctual survival skill. Anything she deemed emotionally traumatic, she may have just conveniently booted from her head, and that. . .well, that might have been most of her years as a kid.

If he knows anything about her, he knew that she would be upset with him initially but he could only hope she moved past it. Harry would have loved to go with her to her family event, even if she found out with him there, then they could at least discuss it immediately or on the car ride home instead of her stewing over it. But Thomas and Garrison had pulled him aside for different matters – the ones he had described as much more violent than a dinner with a ton of members in a gang, surprisingly.

There might be a mole. That’s what Garrison had told him privately, that he didn’t trust Otto was in this alone; that nobody just knows where Y/N’s location is, barely anyone knows where she lives and this was an outlet mall 40-ish minutes away. It was just too convenient that Otto would know where she was without there being someone to tell him or some way of knowing. So everyone was under a microscope: Adam, Niall, Martha, Bill, and even some of the new people – Kai, Charlie, Betty, Rebecca. Harry understood why all of these people were on the list, but –

“Why not me?” He inquired, brows dipped, “I appreciate that I’m not, but I don’t understand why exactly.”

“You’ve been around since she was a kid,” he’d reminded Harry like he didn’t know, “There will always be a little more trust between us with you than the others. We know you wouldn’t let anything happen to her and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your family.”

So while Y/N was with her family, he would be preoccupied snooping in places he probably doesn’t belong. It feels wrong to spy on the other bodyguards like this, and even the newbies; he feels guilt trickle through his chest when he is flicking through files of them. But he knew it had to be done. . .that Y/N’s safety was the top priority, even if it meant potentially betraying the trust of his colleagues.

He’s worried about what he might find. He’s worried about how Y/N would react if it was anyone close to her.

Worry soaks his brain, weighs it heavy, and drags his eyelids closed so he would stop watching the back of her sleeping head. He needed to sleep – maybe he should have kept her tucked against his side, cozy and warm because he’s sure he could have fallen right back to sleep then. He already knew he would spend at least ten more minutes contemplating what the next few weeks could bring them. The last time he’d had a little bit of trouble falling back asleep in her flat was after they kissed.

That kiss. . .Harry’s cheeks feel hot thinking about it. He could still feel her against his mouth if he focused hard enough; the taste of her tongue, how soft her lips were, the way she felt in his lap. He could also remember how embarrassing he’d been coming into her room saying he was jealous, which is the only part of the night he wants to forget. They probably needed to talk about it – when he’s speaking, and Y/N’s staring at his mouth, he feels like he should bring it up, but the words always stick to the back of his throat like honey.

It was inappropriate, Harry shouldn’t have agreed to do it but Y/N was so cute asking him and he’s human, after all. She wanted to kiss and Harry loved kisses and how could he deny her of such a simple pleasure in life? Especially when she said she didn’t get to do it often? It would have been criminal for him to refuse her! And Harry may participate heavily in unlawful, corrupt things, but he was no bloody monster – his job (in part) was to make Y/N happy, and if a kiss was what did that then so be it.

(At least this is what he convinces himself.)

Thinking about it either does two things for him: makes him hard, or gives him soft, twinkling feelings in his stomach. Thankfully, tonight it was the latter, so he revels in the sentiment and finds himself drowsy once again (he’d worked himself up enough that he felt wide awake which would not do – they still had a few hours to sleep and he wanted to make use of it). There is comfort in knowing that if Y/N starts to have her nightmares again, he’s right beside her – he wondered if he’d ever be able to be at her flat without wanting to be next to her.

What he said before she fell asleep, he meant – he wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt her, and that includes a shitty dream.

. . .

The gathering comes quicker than Y/N would have liked, but she figured it was better than the worry of it lingering like a gloomy cloud over her. Y/N had woken up that morning with a sort of weird relief tied into her anxiety; a premature peace was brought on by the fact the day was here and she was one step closer to getting it over with. No matter how unpleasant she would find it, most of these people were family, and if not family, then held a deep-seated, often fear-induced respect for her parents. It wasn’t like anyone would be blatantly mean to her or quiz her too hard on what she was doing, why she was doing it, where she was doing it, because. . .well, wouldn’t that make them look a touch suspicious? These sorts of questions would only be acceptable from her grandparents and that’s if they could talk about something other than how hard it is to use the bathroom the older they get.

Y/N kept reminding herself of this in the hours leading up to the party and it made her feel much better. They were doing this because her grandparents were coming in from Dublin, where they had settled after passing the torch to her parents (neither was from Ireland, but both were drawn to the lush green hills and a seemingly endless supply of Guinness which is all they could wish for in their old age). Everyone would be much more intrigued by them than they would be by her – she felt silly for getting so worked up over going. Was it not a little self-absorbed to think everyone would want to know what she was doing? Who gave a shit about what was going on with her besides a handful of other people?

She had told this line of thinking to Niall who would be accompanying her to the party. “That’s awfully pessimistic but if that’s what makes you feel better then yeah, they’ll probably be focused on what your grandparents are chatting about. They’ve got some brutal fucking stories, but your Nan is so cute, you don’t expect her to be telling them.”

It’s true; her Nan wears bright-colored cardigans and keeps her hair styled neatly in feather white curls. She knits, sews, and bakes cookies. When she was in town while Y/N was a child, she would take her (bodyguard-less, because “If something goes wrong, I’ll take care of it,”) to feed ducks in the park, or to pick out yarn for a blanket. Very normal, Nan-like things, so you really wouldn’t have guessed that she used to shoot people’s feet if they betrayed the family.

The weather was much warmer today so Y/N wore a dress – her mum and Nan liked her in dresses, and though Y/N had a love-hate relationship with the garment, she’d like to make them both happy. A light blue, patchwork material that came just above her knees, with loose puffy short sleeves and a square neckline. Niall gave her a mocking gasp when she walked out in it, “I was half expecting to see you in sweats and a tank top, I never see you all dressed up.”

“Because I’ve been on house arrest, dick,” she retorted, pulling her socks over her feet.

With a snort, he pulled his phone out, “Harry’s g’na be so fucking jealous he didn’t see you in a dress.”

“Huh?” Y/N slid her left foot into her shoe (the mary jane like shoe but was lacking the buckle that really made it a mary jane), “Why would he care?”

“Because you look cute and he’s a sucker for you looking cute,” Niall says it like it’s obvious, confusion reworking his face into a confused frown, “He coos over like every cute thing you do.”

“He’s just teasing.”

A scoff leaves him, “Whatever you say – now smile for the camera.”

Y/N smiled nice, big, and pretty, her head tilted dramatically and her middle finger stuck out toward him. It is the opposite of a deterrent for the blonde, who chortles as he takes rapid-fire pictures from varying angles, muttering something about, “See how you like it when this one goes to your Nan.” After the pictures are taken, she stands and smacks his arm lightheartedly. She wondered if Niall had actually sent it to Harry and her suspicions were confirmed just as soon as they got in the car to leave.

I can’t believe you’ve had such a cute dress and never told me or Goose, you know how much she loves dresses. She’s going to be so hurt.

The memory of Goose rolling around in a few of her dresses (and other various items of clothing but mostly her dresses) when Y/N was going through her closet (in a fit of pure boredom), plants itself into her brain. It makes her smile, even though she knew she’d be removing remnants of tortoiseshell fur off the fabric; she just wanted to scent her and all of her things. Harry told her Goose was in the midst of trying to adopt her but the paperwork is hard for a cat so it’d been taking some time.

Rolling her eyes, she let her thumbs dart around the keyboard.

Don’t use the cat as an excuse, pervert

The drive isn’t as awful and damning as she thought it might feel; it’s about 30 or so minutes out from where she stays depending on what traffic is like and Niall is on some soapbox about a drama he’s currently watching. She watches as the cityscape changes to suburbia, and from suburbia closer to the countryside. Not the house on stilts beside a river and a boat beside the car countryside, but the smarmy, affluent kind – where it wasn’t really countryside, but there were acres upon acres of land to own. The trees they pass are a blur of brown branches speckling with green as they shift to Spring, and bushes that never lost their green, to begin with.

Anxiety still bubbles in her belly but more from the prospect of seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while, than it was from being worried they’d ask how she was doing. Because she realized she could A. Always lie, and B. Harry did give her a good idea the other week about opening some form of online shop. She’d started laying the groundwork for it down, so she could at the very least talk out of her ass about what she was doing. That was if anybody asked – she wouldn’t just bring it up on her own.

Y/N finds that she just needs to tap into that part of herself she uses with her friends when she is able to go out with them. The part of her that completely erases any possibility that she has a life outside of what they were doing at that moment; narrowly avoiding questions that probe too deeply into her day-to-day, steering the conversations toward the person she was talking to and their life. Everyone likes to talk about themselves if you show you’re willing to listen, Y/N found that out relatively quickly.

Her parents’ house, much like them, is gaudy and extravagant and too big. It’s a pretty place, but she just doesn’t necessarily see the need for columns lining the stairs leading up to the house, or the large brass lion knocker on the front door. The chandelier in the foyer when you first enter is about a thousand crystals that cast glittering shadows along the slate grey walls. From the foyer, directly in front of the door is a bifurcated staircase, and beneath either set of stairs splitting off from the main row, there was an entryway to the kitchen and a sitting area, both just on the side of too big. She could already see people moving around in the kitchen and could tell that most people were in the backyard where the majority of this would be taking place.

This wasn’t the house she grew up in so there was no personal attachment to the walls, the floors, or the doorways. She doesn’t stop to linger around a spot on the wall she remembered being measured against when she was little, nor does she see little mirages of a small her running around the halls in a moment of nostalgia. Y/N walks through the foyer, her shoes clicking against the hardwood as she makes her way to the backyard.

There were a lot of people to greet and she was feeling overwhelmed, but nobody noticed (nor seemed to care) about her arrival. It made it easy to slink around, seeking out her grandma who she knew would be sitting beneath one of the tarps they had set up shielding away the blinding son. She was in the middle of speaking to a group of people, so Y/N was going to stand and wait patiently off to the side, but her eyes flickered over, a smile broke out over her face, and she waved her closer, “Is that who I think it is?” Y/N lowered to hug her, “God, you’re looking like an adult! Where the hell is your grandfather, someone call the lazy sod over.”

It was easy with her like it always was. Y/N spoke to her for a while, and hugged her granddad when he made his way over, (“Is your hair longer? Looks longer – you know, your mother had long hair when she first met your dad, like down to her bum, it was ridiculous! We used to beg her to get it cut, we thought it’d get trapped in a door.”). She spoke to them both briefly, and they told her they wanted to plan a trip where she came to Ireland for a visit, and she agreed immediately. Her Nan cooed and doted over her for a moment, pinching her cheek and murmuring something about her needing to sleep more, “I can tell you’re tired, you get that same look your dad gets. Why aren’t you sleeping? Is your mattress comfortable?”

Y/N thinks, if her life was slightly different, these questions might annoy her but she revels in them. No matter how old you get, it’s nice to have someone worry over you a bit; to not see Y/N often but to know when she looks tired, to want to know why she isn’t sleeping, to wonder if it is her mattress. This is the kind of normal worry, about her sleeping habits, or how she’s eating, or if she’s happy – not about rivals and strangers to her that feel contempt for her parents but somehow translate that to hurting her.

“We’ll talk later,” her Nan promised her, swatting her bum and giving her a small push, “Go mingle with your family, they’re missing you. And find your parents, tell them to stop working and come pamper me, I haven’t seen either of them for more than ten minutes.”

She listens (her grandma is not someone you ignore orders from) and mingles. Y/N feels increasingly stupider for being so worried because really, nobody cares what she’s doing now, they mostly want to chat and reminisce over memories from years ago. She’s happy to listen, to laugh, to avoid any segues that might lead to delving into her life or opening a door where that might be a topic. Even if it was, she wondered if everyone just knew not to interrogate her – everyone is too worried about upsetting her parents to dig too deep into her shit. For all they know she could be doing under-the-cuff shit for them that nobody but she knew about (she isn’t but she could definitely could be – they aren’t above doing shifty things like that).

Eventually, she did find her parents and it was. . .as it always was. They almost seemed like they were mid-meeting, which she hadn’t known, but all talked among themselves and the several people sitting beneath the stone gazebo (besides the pond they had built, with fish swimming around in it and a small waterfall because of course they had that) once she appeared, “Hi,” she greets unceremoniously, “Nan says stop working and go dote over her.”

“Of course she did,” her mom smiled brightly, “Come here and hug me – where’d you get this dress? I love it, I’d be wearing that if I was just a few years younger.”

“Try a decade,” her father teased, reaching over to squeeze her arm, “How’s my girl, huh? You all,” he turned to the others, “Go ahead and socialize, we’ll spend some time with our daughter.”

They talk for a while, they’re the only ones inquiring about her life, and what she’s doing, and as she speaks it only then settles in her brain that they’ve got no clue. Y/N always imagines Thomas being puppeteer’d by her parents, doing as they say, but she forgets that for the most part, they do give him a fair amount of autonomy. Only relatively big notions (like her going to university) are discussed as a group. They do know that she’s being confined to her flat and they at least have the decency to appear like they feel bad.

“Once things settle,” her mum had patted her knee, “Things will be better, and you’ll be able to go out more. There’s. . .something going on right now, it’s better to air on the side of caution. Especially after what happened.”

“Yeah, I get it,” she doesn’t. . .she tries her best to though, from their perspective, “Figure it out quick though, I want to go loiter at a mall or something soon.”

She did end up telling them about her plan with art – after she told them about the art classes, which they seemed only vaguely aware of. Y/N went into it, about the cutesy drawings, about an online store, and they nod and say things like, “That sounds nice, Honey,” which is precisely what she expected. Something gentle, slightly dismissive, like they’re listening to a 12-year-old get overly enthused about her hobby. It was nice to talk about it with someone other than Harry though, even if she was certain they were only half listening.

Her mother is the one to bring Harry up, sipping from her glass of wine, “Hm? He’s your newest guard is he not? How’s it going?”

“It’s good,” she shrugged her shoulders, “He’s nice,” I kissed him the other week, “And he’s got two really cute cats that he brings over,” he slept in my bed the other night because I’m having horrible nightmares – do I look tired to you? Nan says I look tired, that’s probably why, “Yeah, it’s fine. Has he said anything?”

Her father cleared his throat, “From what Thomas has said, he does well at all aspects of his job,” he gave a tight-lipped smile, and there’s. . .a look there, in his face, that caught Y/N’s attention, “Which is always good to hear, when we’re trusting someone with you.”

“He does kind of remind me of someone,” her lips move before she can really think it through, bringing it up, but her dad’s disposition had changed ever so slightly – something that Y/N wouldn’t have noticed had she not been trying to read them the entire conversation, “I used to spend time with someone when I was little, who was named Harry. He just disappeared one day though.”

As soon as her mother opened her mouth to respond, her father cut her off, with a smooth, almost immediate precision, “Hm, I think I remember him,” he reached for his drink from the table, “But he and his family moved quite a while ago, I believe. There was a company in Australia I believe, that wanted to hire him. That is if I’m remembering correctly.”

Y/N thinks if her father had answered any other way, or even just slightly differently, she wouldn’t have questioned it. Maybe she would have finally given up, and let it go because even if she did know Harry from when she was younger he clearly didn’t want her to remember him for a reason. If she had anything else to do with her time, she probably wouldn’t have even cared that much to bring it up past asking Harry if she knew him from somewhere.

But it was weird how he’d answered her. It was too fast – and how do you think you remember somebody, but go on to explain they moved to Australia? Plus, from what Y/N has gathered through bits and pieces she hears from her guards and from what she remembered when she was little, people don’t just stop working for her parents. They don’t just go on their merry way unless they are exiled, and even then, the offense would have to be pretty minor to come out unscathed.

Once you’re in this world, you’re in it. There’s no dipping a toe in and deciding it’s too cold; the only option is to sink into it, down to the shoulders, and embrace it when the water lapping at your neck is finally warmer than the air blowing around above it.

“Ohh, okay,” she plays nice and dumb, smiling gently, “Well that settles that then. I was just wondering.”

The tension that had risen in his shoulders loosened, and he relaxed back in his chair, “Tell us more about this business you’d like to start – I know someone who specializes in marketing for start-ups and. . .”

It’s brushed under the rug because of course it is, and Y/N keeps chatting with them a healthy amount before excusing herself to the restroom. This is when her parents make their move to visit with her Nan (“What a joy it is to dote on your mother-in-law,” her mother sighed, grabbing her wine), so they split ways. Y/N does have to piss, that much is true, but she’ll also be taking a detour to the library, where the photo albums were kept. Nobody questions where she’s going or why she’s going there, but she does manage to narrowly avoid Thomas who would have definitely not trusted her when she told him she wasn’t doing anything to rouse suspicion.

The library, in comparison to the rest of the house, is actually one of the smaller rooms. She wondered if it was actually small or if the towering bookcases made it appear more compact than it was. On either side of the room, the walls were bookshelf-beside-bookshelf, filled to the brim with different novels, titles, hardbacks, and paperbacks (she doesn’t even think her parents are that into reading). Adjacent to the door, the wall is a window that reminded her of Edward’s room in Twilight, only this one was composed of bulletproof, thick glass and had large curtains that could be drawn if it was night. In the center of the room was a small couch, a coffee table, and a lamp (which has a very limited purpose when there’s a huge light fixture hanging from the ceiling that lights up the entire room as soon as it’s flicked on).

It takes her a moment to skim over different bindings until she finds the odd, large bindings of the photobooks. They aren’t labeled but she remembered that her mother, in all her perfectionist glory, had them color coded by years. Y/N knew that vibrant purples, blues, and greens were from a period starting with her birth so that’s where she starts. She pulled out all of them, bundled them in her arms, and went to the couch. Vaguely does Y/N remember a time when she was always posing for pictures whether she wanted to or not, and while it wasn’t necessarily either of her parents taking the picture – someone was. Thomas, any bodyguard, her Nan, uncles, aunts, and cousins if they were all together. So there are plenty of pictures to sift through, almost an annoying amount. She thinks she’ll be in here for hours.

Three photo albums in, she begins to lose hope. What was she even looking for? Some proof that Harry existed when she was little? Who was to say anyone had even taken a picture of them together in the first place? And for her parents to keep it, when one of them at the very least, was not interested in her knowing that he had existed in her life before a few months ago when he’d entered her flat, following close behind Niall? It was unlikely.

She nibbles at her thumbnail, heaving a sigh and almost irately flipping through pages now when she sees it.

When she sees him.

If Y/N had looked through it any quicker she would have missed it. A picture at the park, two children stood beside the obnoxiously bright blue tunnel slides: one of them was her, in a frilly pink sundress that had large yellow flowers printed all over the front, and jelly shoes she has a vague memory of regretting because the mulch from the ground kept scratching her. She had a big, front toothless grin, her head over-exaggerated in its tilt and one of her hands were held up like she was waving. Her arm was wrapped around a boy, just a little taller than her, who had awful cargo shorts you could only get away with wearing at 9 and a green shirt with a FIFA logo. His hair was brown, cut short, his eyes were light, she could tell, and he had two dimples just as she remembered. Looking at this photo, she knew for sure.

It was him.

That fucking liar.

She carefully slides the delicate paper from the plastic sheet and presses it off to the side, before continuing to flip through. One picture would be enough, she knew, but she wanted to build an arsenal of proof. He could try to explain away one picture, but not several. Not when she could tell the structure of his face, the way one side of his mouth has always pulled up higher when he smiled, the crinkles beside his eye when he grins.

Y/N is conflicted, about whether to be happy or upset or whatever she was feeling. She was happy that she had been right this whole time. She was irritated because he’d been lying to her and her dad just lied straight to her face, but she wondered for what reason it was important that she didn’t know. And she was confused, because. . .well, where the fuck had he gone? From at least four of the photo albums, she finds around five photos from each of them, up until she was around 10.

She’d worried a sore into the inside of her bottom lip biting at it with fretted teeth, and her forehead ached from the deep furrow she’d had the entire time she flicked through the albums. Y/N was ready to go home, but she knew she’d have to stay for a while longer.

Just as she was sliding the pictures into her purse, zipping it closed, the door of the library opened. She tenses until she realizes it’s Niall, who squints his eyes, “What are you doing in here?”

“Hiding and going down memory lane.” She dismisses him quickly, collecting the albums and walking them back to where she’d found them, “Have they started serving food yet? I’m fucking starving.”

“Watch your mouth, your Nan could be around any corner. She’s quiet on her feet,” he playfully scolded her, not probing any further into her reasonings for being in here, “That’s why I came to get you, the caterers finally have everything set up and I knew you’d fuss if I ate without you.”

She scoffed, “Thanks, and for the record, I don’t fuss, I hit.”

He pouted his mouth, rubbing his arm where she’d swatted him earlier, “Don’t I know it.”

. . .

Y/N loses her nerve.

For a while, she was riled up and ready for an argument (though she doubts Harry would actually argue with her); Harry was supposed to come to see her that night, so she had very little time to mentally prepare. But from that little time she did get, she’d prepared to let him walk in, sit down, then slam the pictures down on the table in front of him and demand answers. Like why he lied before, why her father lied today, and why he left in the first place. Does it matter? No, not necessarily, and she doesn’t think it would change how anything is right now, but at the end of the day, Y/N is nosy and confused and wants to know why everyone else is in on this and not her. Just like everything else in her life, she is kept in the dark, and she’d just been praising Harry for being the only one who ever kept her in the know, telling her more than anyone else.

And she thinks if it had been anyone else, she probably would have. If she had looked through those albums and seen a photo of Niall with her, she would have immediately thrown it at him and asked him what the fuck it was about.

Yet as soon as she saw Harry, who smiled brightly at her as he walked in, holding two strawberry shakes with a big grin on his face. . .she just couldn’t.

“I brought you a treat,” he told her, kicking the door shut with his foot, “It’s a celebration shake. Do you feel relieved having done it and gotten it over with?”

It almost felt silly, to think about doing it how she had planned. To show him the photos, like an I told you so! I’m right, you’re wrong, I did know you – it felt like a petulant way to approach the subject. And if there was a good reason that they didn’t want her to know. . .if there was any reason at all, really, why should she have to force his hand in telling her? To shove proof in his face, catch him off guard, guilt him into telling her. . .it just didn’t feel right. She wanted to know, and part of her felt she deserved to know, but maybe not like this.

She cleared her throat, and smiled gently, “Yeah,” she told him, “It wasn’t too bad.”

“See! I told you it’d be just fine,” he handed her the shake, “I’ll admit, I am jealous Niall got to go with you in that dress. It was adorable – you look so pretty when you’re all dressed up. Well, you’re pretty always, actually, but I do love dresses.”

Y/N feels her face warm, mouth pulled into a frown, “Don’t tease me,” she grumbled, pulling the straw of the shake between her lips, but she moves her legs out of the way for him to sit with her on the couch.

“I’m not teasing,” he defended himself, “Really, I think you’re pretty in whatever you feel comfortable in.”

Y/N nudged him with her foot, and let the words, I knew you when I was little, I have pictures – fizzle out in her throat. She wants to know – so badly does she want to know, but she just can’t give a reason why she would need to know. And she guesses part of her is a little scared that it might change things between them. There were a lot of things Y/N wanted but that wasn’t one of them; she’d like to keep getting closer to him, to keep looking at him and feeling safe, for that bubble of warmth and comfort to arise in her belly every time he stepped through the door.

She liked how things were now, so maybe she was okay not knowing. Not yet, at least. . .for a little while.

“Where’s your head at, hm?” Harry hums low, sweet, and soft; he’s in the usual attire, though the white button-up was loosened by a few buttons and the cuff links were undone. His suit pants were navy blue today, and he treated them with little care, his foot pulled up onto the couch, rolling the leg of the trousers up. He is turned to face her, the hand on his phone lowering so she had his full attention, “You seem far away.”

“Nowhere,” she lies easily, “I’m just sleepy.”

Harry gives her a smile – it’s gentle but still big, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of how her heart races when she witnesses it, dimples and all, “Liarrr,” he sing-songs, but uses his free hand to squeeze her calf over the pajama pants she’s wearing, “You can tell me when you’re ready if you want to talk about it,” his voice sinks into her muscles, melts them, “I’ll wait for you. Until then, I reckon we should watch that show. . .the new one with the zombies everyone is talking about?” He would have a good reason, right? Harry wouldn’t just lie to her. . .Harry doesn’t just lie.

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching up, “So you finally admit you want to see it,” she puffed a laugh from her chest, “After so vehemently denying that you’re interested in zombie shows at all!”

“To be fair, a lot of them can be shit!” He whined, “But I’ve seen a lot of good reviews, and I heard it’s about some mind-controlling fungus which is a slight deviation from other versions of the story. And legally, you can’t be mean to me because I’m so sweet and brought you a shake.”

She grabbed the remote, “You’re whiny.”

“I reckon I deserve to be the whiny one sometimes, you get to be 24/7.” He retorted and Y/N gasped, mouth falling open.

“I am not whiny!”

“Oh? Was that a whine I just heard?” When she huffs at him and starts turning her body away from him, he chuckles low, stopping her from twisting her body completely by laying a hand on her bicep, “C’mon, c’mon, I’m kidding.” He scoots to the other end of the couch, “Here, do you want to stretch out? I’m sure your feet must hurt after being in those shoes all day.”

Her response is to kick her feet up without hesitation, but she wiggles down so that they lay in his lap, “Will you rub them?” Because if he’s going to lie to her about knowing her and then suddenly return to her life as her bodyguard, she thinks she deserves a foot rub out of it at the very, absolute least.

“Ah,” he places one of her throw pillows in his lap, before delicately laying her foot on top of it, “You just want me here to dote on you.”

She nodded her head, “Correct.”

“Brat,” he digs his thumb into the sole of her foot anyway, just above her heel, “Get the show started or I’ll start tickling.”

Because it’s easy with Harry – it’s always been easy with Harry and that’s what she liked.

Why make it difficult?

Why bring it up?

. . .

The days go on as normal; eventually, they lessen their stringent rules on where she can and cannot go. It’s only a little bit, but she and Harry can finally return to their art classes, where Y/N found the excuse for their absence was they had taken a trip to Spain (she lies about how amazing the rooftop tour of Santiago de Compostela Cathedral is beautiful knowing full well she didn’t even know you could get tours on the rooftop). They returned just in time for a color theory lesson that goes from a fun grade school color wheel to something that melted her brain. By the end of it, it had turned into something so complex, even Harry seemed genuinely astonished by how deep into it they went.

“We’ll have to practice later,” he promised, “‘cos I’m going to forget everything she said after the first hour.”

Y/N goes to a brunch with her Nan, who – albeit reluctantly – lets Harry attend. Thomas was still hyper-aware of any possible danger (as he always is) and thought it would be dangerous for not only Y/N but her Nan (who has made plenty of enemies in her day) to be alone out and about together. Harry offered to sit at a separate table once he noticed her Nan’s displeasure but she waved the idea away, “Why should you be punished because I disagree with how they’re doing things? You’ll sit with us.”

If Y/N looked back on it, she thinks that Grandma always had a problem with how they raised Y/N. Very, very, very vaguely she has an indistinct and fuzzy memory of her scolding Y/N’s father, “This is no life to live,” she told him, “To force her in this house! To not even let her attend school? She needs friends outside of her cousins and a life. I didn’t raise you to be so stupid.” And Y/N thinks, relatively close to that, she’d been enrolled in a private school (though she moved around quite a bit following that).

It was nice to spend time with her, and she thinks – even without trying – Harry had managed to woo her Nan in about five minutes. If she let herself indulge, even just for a second, it was like having her boyfriend meet her family but she wipes the thought away as soon as it arises.

Because she’s been having a lot of thoughts like that; she’d begun labeling them her “senseless, delusional” moments where she even for a second considered having feelings for Harry. They started out infrequently, only every so often (especially when he did something particularly sweet) but with time they grew more recurrent. It seemed, like some sort of sick twist, that they came on stronger once she realized that she knew him from when they were little.

Which, Y/N thinks if she were more emotionally sound, the opposite would have occurred. She should be put off and repelled, but instead, she finds herself feeling more and more fond.

Now she notices things that she hadn’t before. All the little idiosyncrasies of hers that he remembered from childhood: how she liked jelly candies and her favorite flavors, the board games she used to play, the stuffies she always liked, the way she hated the sound of nails on a holographic picture, how she thinks the sandwich just tastes better when it’s cut diagonally. They were things that, for whatever reason, she never questioned why he knew before but now that she thought about it, it would be incredibly odd had he known them without knowing her.

And over time she just realizes that he brings the kind of comfort that only a childhood friend could bring. Familiarity, a tender warmth, the idea that someone still likes you even as you’ve grown and changed into the person you are today. Fundamentally, their relationship was always somewhat forced she guesses – their parents (or his parents and Thomas) probably arranged the first play date. And Thomas definitely arranged for him to be her bodyguard. They were compelled to be in the same space together, but enjoying their time with each other. . .that was them. Harry laughing at her jokes, the feeling that fizzles in her veins when his cheeks get pink, how excited she is to see him when it’s his night with her, the borderline domestic relationship she’s developed with his cats – all of that wasn’t arranged.

They were friends, Y/N truly believed that. They had been forever now, she guesses, if the decade-long gap in between was dissolved.

Y/N thumbs through the photos when she’s in her room at night, gnawing at her bottom lip, a zoetrope of memories flickering through her brain. Some things she recalls, some things she doesn’t, and she recalls feelings more than she does conversations or scenarios. She was always happy, she knew that, and she always felt like a normal kid with him. She could tell him things and they could play and things were good and normal.

She found herself wanting to kiss him more every day, which is a bit of a problem. They still hadn’t spoken about the first, logically they should do that before having a second, but the want for it itches beneath her skin. Y/N’s certain he had caught her staring at his mouth several times, probably more than she would like to admit, but he had never really brought it up before.

Until a random Thursday, at least, when she’d spent most of the day drawing and perfecting different sketches for the first round of stickers (she does a lot of random original cutesy drawings, then some that involve different tv shows and movies – people like to buy cute versions of characters they like, Y/N knows that because she does it all the time). Harry started talking about. . .something, Y/N couldn’t remember, but what she did remember was how his mouth went from forming around the word “apples” to smirking.

“You stare at my mouth an awful lot,” he taunted her, and Y/N. . .she was feeling more sensitive that day; less fiery than she usually was, so she tilted her head down and murmured an apology, “No, wait,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I was only kidding, Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

When she hummed and made no move to look back at him, she felt careful fingers on her chin, guiding her face toward him, “C’mon, Darling, don’t hide. It’s okay! You can look at my mouth all you want, lord knows I’m always looking at yours.”

Her face feels hot and she swallows thickly, “You’re looking at mine?”

“Mhm,” he hesitated for a moment, before the pad of his thumb grazed over her bottom lip, “More than I’d like to admit.”

“We could always,” she spoke against his petting thumb, “We could kiss again then if you want.”

He leaned in, moments from smearing his mouth against hers, but there was a knock at the door.

The pizza they ordered had come.

That was the closest they’d been to kissing again, but once Harry went to answer the door and sign for the food the moment had left them. Y/N is flustered, warm in her face, and has zero nerve to return where they had left off so she nudges him with her foot when he sits back beside her and calls him a wimp when he fusses over it. Things go back to normal – the same as they usually were.

(It was only later that night when she was alone in her bed when she felt inconceivably horny, did she remember that her period was coming. The weeks leading up to it always left her insatiable, sensitive in both her feelings and touch, and if she snuck her hand between her thighs to the thought of kissing him again, well that’s her own problem.)

The nightmares start to fade too, which is nice, though that means Harry spends less time in her room. He’d made a habit of sleeping beside her, or at least laying down near her until she fell asleep, and she’d always wake up the next morning alone. Though without fail, as soon as a dream seemed to sour, Harry was there at her side to wake her from it, always attentive, squeezing the shoulder he’d just been shaking, “S’just a dream, baby, you’re okay.” He’d calm her down, “Go back to bed.”

“Thank you, nightmare killer,” she would murmur, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, and Harry would laugh, and she’d fall back asleep.

Things were nice, starting to feel a little normal again with the additive closeness she felt with Harry despite knowing what she did. She was starting to feel comfortable again, and not stuck inside all of the time, and she felt like she was getting somewhere with her drawings, growing closer and closer to being able to open her shop.

And then, one night, Harry is waking her up frantically.

Harry is not a frantic person – he is usually calm, collected, and measured. Y/N has never truly seen him in action but she’s sure he makes decisions with precision and tact that typically comes from years of experience, though she doesn’t think he’s been at this that long. He’s levelheaded and respectful and acts well under pressure – that makes him deadly.

So to see him urging her awake, moving quickly, telling her to, “Get up, we need to leave.” Makes her adrenalin spike and panic drip from her ears.

“What?” She was still foggy, disoriented – what time was it? Her clock says it’s three in the morning.

“We need to go,” he is reaching beneath her bed, dragging out a bag – her “Go” bag, is what she always called it, something Thomas had instructed her to make even when she was little. It was a duffel of clothes, toiletries, and things that would take too long to grab in the event she needed to leave an area quickly. She’d only ever had to grab it once before when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember why. Though now that she thinks about it, it seemed like it might have been close to the time that Harry had disappeared.

She doesn’t check her go bag often, beyond replacing the toiletries that may have lived past their shelf date, so she was also surprised to see Harry pull a gun from it. A gasp leaves her mouth, she’s still moving too slowly, trying to catch up with what’s happening as he’s fitting it into the holster, “Wait, what? What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

He’s zipping the bag up, “Bill was fired –”

“What?”

“- and it got ugly, he shot at Martha. There’s reason to believe he’s on his way here.”

“But why –”

“There’s no time to explain everything,” he threw the duffle over his shoulder, “We need to leave.”

Her head is spinning, she knows she’s probably annoying him, but she can’t help but search for something to say, for a question to ask, to try and understand what was happening, if she was dreaming or not, if this was another nightmare, “What –”

This time Harry cuts her off by taking her face in his hands – he was still gentle, but she could sense the urgency, “I will explain as soon as we’re safe, I promise you, baby, but right now we need to leave okay? Get your phone but turn off the location. We’ll go down the back stairwell to the parking garage.” She still seems hesitant, confused, but Harry runs a thumb over her cheek, “Do you trust me?”

And she does. . .she trusts him implicity, more than she should, probably.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he replied quickly, “Come on.”

#WRITING #WOOOOO #YAHTZEEEE #OKAY #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT :D #THIS IS A MEGA SLOW BURN IM SO SORRY #I DIDNT EXPECT IT TO BE #BUT YOU KNOW #EEEEEK #OKAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY #IT WAS FUN TO WRITE!#LOVE YOUUUU #WOOOOOOO

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blouisparadise · 6 days ago

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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) You Know I Need Your Love | Explicit | 1,016 words

Harry studied him, eyes lingering on the spit dripping from his tongue in a long, cobweb-like string and pooling on Louis’s naked thighs. Louis waited patiently, fighting the urge to fidget or lunge forward, hoping to be good enough to be allowed an orgasm that night.

2) All Eyes On Me | Explicit | 1,019 words

Louis gets fucked by a fucking machine in a room full of people, and he loves every second of it.

3) I Never Come Close | Explicit | 1,032 words

Louis has the day from hell, Harry knows how to make him forget it.

4) Baby, I'm Yours | Explict | 1,076 words

Louis' obsessed with marking Harry.

5) I'm Too Tired To Be Tough | Explicit | 1,250 words

Louis looks after everyone else all the time. Harry decided to look after him for a change.

6) Sleeping To Dream Of You | Explicit | 1,625 words

Louis has plans for some late night activities, and Harry is never one to deny. Written for day 2 of kinktober, prompt: somnophilia.

7) A Morning In The Frathouse | Explicit | 2,418 words

The one where Louis decided to surprise Harry with a wake-up blowie.

8) Babyboy | Mature | 2,581 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Liam Payne. This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Liam is Louis' daddy.

9) I Wanted You To Share My Life | Explicit | 2,676 words

“Why the fuck would you kiss that guy right in front of me Louis?” “It’s not like you’re my fucking boyfriend, are you?” Louis rolled his eyes.

10) Let's Get Physical | Explicit | 2,995 words

The one where they use a fitness ball inappropriately.

11) Masks And Sweat | Explicit | 3,082 words

Louis goes to a halloween party without many expectations and ends up meeting Harry, the bass player of one of the bands that performed at the party.

12) Love's A State Of Mind | Teen & Up | 3,041 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“Your omega?” Louis asked softly, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “Hmmm.” Harry smushed his face in Louis’ shirt, his hand moving up to mess with one of the buttons. “He’s great, my omega. He’s kind and passionate and funny, even when he makes jokes about me.” “He- He sounds great, button.” “He is. You are.” What?!

13) Fight Or Flight | Explicit | 3,156 words

Harry and Louis are enemies who play on the same footie team and an argument turns into a physical fight and that into something no one expected, least of all Louis.

14) Hold Me And Explore Me | Explicit | 3,573 words

Louis and Harry are roomies and Louis really needs Harry to kiss and touch him.

15) I Never Knew Somebody Like You | Explicit | 4,148 words

Louise and Harriet are teammates on the ice skating team but they hate each other.

16) I Want Yesterdays Love | Mature | 4,789 words

Note: the main pairing is Louis/Dev Patel.

“We’re going on holiday before the term starts again,” Oli announces in their kitchen the day after the art opening. Louis looks up from his cereal bowl. “Who is we?” “I’ve rented us a cottage near the beach. Me, you, Calvin, Rick, and Dev.” Louis makes a noncommittal noise but can’t deny his heartbeat racing at the mention of Dev.

17) Medicine | Mature | 4,824 words

Louis attends his favorite artist Harry Styles concert in London. Louis has always had fantasies of what would happen if he ever went to one of Harry's shows, and that's what they've always been. Fantasies. But perhaps a fantasy in particular might come true this night.

18) Trick-Or-Treat: Love Is Sweet | Not Rated | 5,053 words

Grumpy Harry & Sunshine Louis go to a Halloween party dressed as Judy Hobbs & Nick Wilde.

19) Metamorphosys | General Audiences | 5,062 words

Childhood best friends where H went to prison protecting L some years ago. He was recently released and has nowhere to go, so he shows up on Louis' doorstep. But the sweet kid he used to be has completely changed due to his imprisonment.

20) Dripping Down Your Body Like Gold |Explicit | 6,657 words

Omega!Louis is a phone sex operator by night and Alpha!Harry (one of his friends) calls him by chance.

21) Cherries And Honey | Mature| 7,556 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is surprised that he doesn't have any cravings while pregnant and that he doesn't feel overly emotional, but he just doesn't notice. Harry does though. Featuring an emotional, demanding, and happy pregnant Louis who unconsciously sends Harry to make or get his current cravings.

22) Another Load | Explicit | 7,857 words

Louis and Harry are engaged and in a dom/sub relationship for the past two years. Together 4. They recently upgraded their washer and dryer. Today the new washer malfunctioned or Lou put one too many items in the wash and an error appeared. Louis was half laying on top of the washer looking down as music fills their house. Harry ran to the store. When Harry returned finding Louis bent over the washer looking obscene by pretty much doing nothing. he knew he needed to do something about it.

23) Do You Want To Know A Secret? | Explicit | 8,029 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis aren’t hiding their relationship, but everyone always thinks they’re joking when they act it/mention it. Hilarity ensues when they try to tell everyone that they really are together with various things happening that keep people from believing them.

24) Soft Hands Organics - Adore Sensitive Skin | Explicit | 8,243 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Ass Worship fic.

25) A Bite Of Love | Explicit | 8,546 words

It was something that had been on his mind more often than not but this Halloween Louis, a clumsy little witch, would get his vampire boyfriend, Harry, to bite him.

26) Haunted By You (And Only By You) | Mature | 8,597 words

Louise works with Harry's advertising company, attends the company's halloween party and things happen that she never imagined. After that party, there's a small change in her life and she is delighted and in love with it.

27) Anything At All (Worse Than Anyone) | Explicit | 9,083 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where they work together and they can't stand each other; Louis doesn't really know why, Harry likes to think he does. But when something unexpected happens at the restaurant, he's forced to admit that he has been wrong all this time— and that he's the only one who's been lying all along between the two of them.

28) It's Cold In Hell ᡣ𐭩 | Not Rated | 9,433 words

Asher was stranded in the middle of nowhere. A truck driver saved his life and the angel with him take it away.

29) Lost In Psychic Dire Straits | Explicit | 10,894 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Through the one way glass, Harry watches as the suspect fidgets, drumming his fingers on top of the table briefly before picking at the skin on his left thumb. A nervous habit, one that makes him prone to shedding DNA all over the place. With any luck forensics will come back with a strong match. “His lawyer or a lawyer?” Harry clarifies. “His lawyer,” Marianne tells him. “Seems like Mr. Tomlinson has spent the better part of the last decade running around trying to convince people he's a psychic. Got enough brains to have an attorney on speed dial, seems like.”

30) Roman Empire | Explicit | 11,111 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

One day Louis answers Liam's phone while he is in the shower. That's how he meets Harry, Liam's friend who moved to Italy just a while ago. And that's how Liam loses ownership of his phone.

31) I’m A Fire, And I’ll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm | Not Rated | 12,200 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You’re doing the best you can, Harry. I can see that. Dory can too,” he says softly, assuringly. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s needed to hear those words, he hasn’t realized till now. Harry meets his gaze once again. In his eyes, he sees that there was something deep there, something genuine, full of understanding. “Thank you,” his voice thick with emotion, “I’m glad he has you now.” Louis brushes his thumb gently over the back of the alpha’s hand. The gesture is all soft and soothing and it made Harry’s heart flutter with so much want. “You could have me too,” Louis whispers as if it was a secret, as if it was not meant to be heard by anyone. But Harry hears it loud and clear.

32) Me And My Husband | Explicit | 19,061 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Where Harry met someone else, leaving behind everything he once built with Louis.

33) Your Handprints On My Hips | Explicit | 19,834 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When Louis hired someone to paint the exterior of his house, he didn’t expect to be met with a familiar face. Will summer romance be relived or does fate have a way of pulling them apart?

34) You're Not Harry Styles (Or Are You?) | Explicit | 20,116 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Singer Louis Tomlinson finally meets his crush - ex-boybander Harry Styles - on a late night talk show after he recently released a hit single mentioning Harry. They hit it off and fall in love.

35) One, Two Or Three? | Explicit | 21,050 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It starts with one Louis going on holiday. He spends his well deserved but not welcomed holiday in a resort. He feels a slight embarrassment for having sex with two guys within 48 hours so when he runs in to them, he invents his twin brother to keep things normal (at least in his eyes). Little did he know those men were almost sure he was all alone on this holiday. Both men like him equally and to be honest, he likes them two. Will they end up with just two or with three?

36) Help Me Make It Through The Night | Explicit | 22,828 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Be a dear and get that for me,” Liz says. There’s a glint of something mischievous on her face but Louis ignores it, figuring her cold has slowed her down from worrying about answering the door. He heads to the door and opens it. On the other side is one of the most beautiful men Louis has ever seen. He’s a bit taller than Louis and he has broad shoulders. His legs seem to last for days and Louis can tell that he’s muscular, but with a feminine softness in his form. He has short curly hair and his eyes are the prettiest shade of green Louis has ever encountered before. There’s a smile on his face and dimples on his cheeks and Louis kind of wants to dig his finger in the left one. Just poke it a little. The smile on the man’s face dies when he sees Louis. The following silence is uncomfortable. “Louis Tomlinson,” the man says with distaste in his voice. Louis can’t comprehend why he sounds like that. He’s only just met the man… Oh, wait! No. He knows this man. Or he knew him when he was a boy. The man before him is Harry Styles, the boy he and his mates back in school used to bully relentlessly.

37) Don't Make Me Feel Special | Mature | 26,691 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Its only when Harry is chosen for the Triwizard tournament that Louis realizes that his feelings are returned. Make it abo please.

38) God I Love the English | Explicit | 38,572 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis is a singer and Harry is an actor and they enjoy teasing their fans a little too much.

39) Yours To Reign | Explicit | 39,548 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The Princess Protection Program AU.

40) Easier Than Lying | Not Rated | 49,991 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Harry, my dear friend, you don’t want to start a war with Louis Tomlinson, trust me,” Niall seemed serious now, shooting Harry a warning look. He simply rolled his eyes at Niall, “So, what? I’m just supposed to put up with Louis’ incessant need to make me miserable? I don’t think he plans to stop anytime soon.” Talking it out with Louis proved to be futile, so maybe he could give the brat a taste of his own medicine. There was no guarantee that it would work, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

41) Student of the Year | Not Rated | 52,868 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Life is unpredictable and so is the story between Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles. Featuring fights, prank wars, sweetness, friendship, sex and a healthy dose of a heartbreaking competition.

42) I Am Br(ok)en | Explicit | 53,180 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a 28 year old Alpha who just got his heart broken by his long-term boyfriend. What happens when he meets Louis, a 30 year-old omega who is the spitting image of his ex? Sparks fly and hearts get on the line... Will Harry be able to understand his feelings before it's too late and he loses everything?

43) Sharp As Sugar, Sweet As Spice | Explicit | 60,270 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis loves his life. He’s got great friends, endless hookups, everyone loves him, and he’s a top student set to graduate with a medical degree. When he meets Harry by chance one day, he expects it to just be a sneaky blowjob with a hot dad—it ends up being anything but that, well, except for the DILF part, that’s most definitely the case.

44) Forget Me Not | Explicit | 99,608 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After a life altering car crash steals the last five years of Louis Tomlinson's memory, he returns from the hospital to an unfamiliar life that leaves him feeling inconsequential. An accidental run in with single father, Harry Styles, and his adorable pup, Elliot, make Louis question his desires, his dreams, and his fears. Eventually, he's forced to read between the lines and wonder... Has his forgotten past been that far away all along? Or have the answers been just beyond his reach all this time?

45) If I Cannot Bend Heaven, I’ll Rise Hell | Explicit | 109,110 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

It blooms: In 1807, a boy falls for the wrong monster. It eats: In 1969, omegas began to disappear as rumors of the rising of a cannibalistic cult spread like wildfire. It grins: Now, one of the most powerful vampires of the West sits down for an interview to reveal all his sins. “Exodus 7:14-11:10, right before he sent the plagues, he said to Moses; ‘By this you will know that I am the Lord.’.” The vampire said with the ghost of a smile, small, almost intimate. “How can you annihilate something that you cannot touch, something you cannot see? How can you fight against a hungry God?"

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #blp #monthly fic rec #blp fic recs #larry fic recs

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shuahoonie · 1 year ago

Text

late night talking | boo seungkwan

pairing: non-idol!seungkwan (svt) x female!reader

notes: reader doesn’t like birthdays, fluff, swearing, childhood friends (implied) to lovers, reader is !! oblivious !! loosely based on the song late night talking by harry styles

word count: 4.7k

summary: something shifted in the universe when you and seungkwan started talking on the phone every day. this is big for someone who has their phone on do not disturb for almost the entire day. oh and going on a trip with your bff, practically acting like a couple is normal right? right???

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

if there's one thing people should know about you— it's that to never call you if there's an emergency. you’ve always gotten shit on for having your phone on do not disturb.

“what if you got stabbed?!” seungkwan dramatically yelled behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“well, did i?” you asked stopping dead in your tracks to face him, crossing your arms.

“no,” seungkwan answered “but what if you were?!” oh this is never going to end.

“i already told you i was going out for air.” you replied, turning your back against him and kept on walking. somehow, the walk back to your accommodation seemed like it went on forever. “if you knew me better, you should know to never call me.”

“i tried texting and you still didn’t answer!”seungkwan was getting frustrated. “seriously, what’s the point of having a phone if no one can contact you!”

“seungkwan, this conversation is going nowhere.”

“it’s because you’re too stubborn!” seungkwan pointed out. “see? you’re not even listening to me!”

“my ears are starting to bleed, seungkwan,” now you were getting annoyed. it’s always like this with you two— you and seungkwan bicker like there’s no tomorrow, driving each other mad. yet, you two can’t keep away from each other.

you quickened your pace, not in the mood to argue. you knew you were at fault.

“you know i was worried, love.” fuck. of course, seungkwan would drop that pet name. he knew how to get you— annoying and cheesy as it may sound— and it was enough to make you stop walking. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

“i’m sorry,” you sighed. “i was being a brat—”

“yeah, you were.” seungkwan agreed, not even let you finish. you let out an appalled huff, crossing your arms.

seungkwan laughed, reaching out to uncross your arms and pulling you closer to him. “you know you’re lucky you’re cute or else this behaviour will never work on me.”

“whatever,” you mumbled. “it’s because you love me.” you were practically chewing your words. it was times like these when you often question if you two are destined for something more. two childhood friends on a weekend vacation— alone. doing couple activities. acting like one. it really makes you wonder.

“yeah,” seungkwan hummed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “i know.”

seungkwan went off on a long rant about wanting to spend the weekend with you out of town. mind you, he proposed this plan over the phone at 1 am on a random tuesday. he even scolded you for not picking up sooner.

“why didn’t you pick up the first time?”

“kwannie, you better be dying if you dared to call me at 1 am.” you grumbled.

“i love you, but i’m calling anyone but you if i were dying.” he said on the other line.

“okay, well it’s good to know you’re still alive. i’m hanging up.” you said with your eyes closed, ready to fall back to sleep.

“do you have plans next weekend?”

it was your birthday next weekend. not that it was a big deal, but you didn’t really like celebrating your birthday. seungkwan knew that— at least you hoped he did. “no,” you said quietly.

“do you want to go out of town?”

you agreed, not thinking much about it as it’s been a while since you went on a trip— let alone, with seungkwan. plus, it’ll be nice to actually have fun.

it raised some eyebrows, for sure, especially from mingyu.

“you’re actually going?” mingyu asked while he was busy chopping up some onions. he was preparing dinner for jun and wonu— who crashed his dorm. you and chan found out and decided to crash there as well.

“and why not?” you raised an eyebrow at mingyu, crossing your arms. it’s not like this is the first you and seungkwan have gone on a trip by yourselves.

“because,” mingyu avoided your gaze. he knew something and since it’s you we’re talking about, he would rather be eaten alive than admit whatever he’s thinking to you. “it’s weird.”

“why would it be weird?” you asked with furrowed brows. “it’s seungkwannie.”

“exactly.” mingyu exclaimed, proceeding to turn around and look for something in the cupboards.

“yah!” something clicked in your head. “do you know something that i don’t?”

“i’m not going to tell you until you admit it yourse— yah ynnie!” mingyu yelped from where he was standing after you pinched his ear. “fine, fine!”

“well, i’m waiting kim mingyu.” you crossed your arms in anticipation.

mingyu muttered a long string of curses— some of them about you being worse than his girlfriend, which only prompted you to pinch his arm. you liked his girlfriend.

“it’s just—“ mingyu was racking his brain for the right words to say. “does it ever bother you that kwan is doing all of this just for you?”

“what do you mean?” now, you’re genuinely confused. gyu’s never the type to instigate things like these. “he’s always been like that, gyu.”

gyu hummed— pursing his lips into a thin line. “you know what? you’re right, ynnie.” mingyu proceeded to cook dinner for all of you, choosing to move on from the topic. “let’s drop it.”

this only piqued your curiosity. there’s no way kim mingyu can just drop it. “no, you have to tell me, gyu.”

“tell you what?” chan pranced inside the kitchen, carrying the empty glasses and putting them in the sink.

“i don’t even know, ichan.” you sighed. “because mingyu won’t tell me.”

“i’m probably assuming things,” mingyu said dismissively, not eager to expand on the topic any further.

chan stared at you two with furrowed brows. obviously, this is confusing for him as there’s not even enough context to build up on. “uhh?”

“mingyu’s being weird,” you sighed “he’s suspicious of kwan’s actions, as if kwan has been nothing but sweet our entire lives.”

“seungkwan? sweet?” ichan laughed at your, what he assumed, incredulous take.

“see?!” mingyu pointed out animatedly, making you scoff at him.

“ynnie, i think what mingyu’s trying to say is that—“ chan paused, looking for the right words to break his thoughts in.

mingyu, loosing a mental battle between speaking about it or not, chooses to interrupt chan’s thoughts. “he likes you, yn.”

“uh—“ you felt frozen in your place. you were waiting for them to explain further, anything that can clear this up. “like as friends right?”

mingyu let out an obnoxious laugh that prompted you to throw a piece of crumpled up kitchen towel at him.

“why are you being so loud?” jun asks as he and wonwoo prances inside the kitchen, both confused by mingyu’s outburst.

“hyung,” chan turns to jun “what do you think about yn and kwan?”

jun furrowed his brows, confused. “what do you mean?”

“like about yn and seungkwan being—“ mingyu tried to explain but wonu cut him off.

“together?” wonu continued, his tone unsure. mingyu and chan nodded. “are you not?” wonu then turns to you, confused.

“what do you mean?!” you could feel your cheeks burning at wonwoo’s implication. “of course not! what led you guys to that idea?”

“oh you want to do this now?” mingyu asks tauntingly. “because i will do it.”

“shut up, mingyu,” you grumbled, obviously flustered.

“you have to excuse mingyu,” jun walks closer to you, giving you a side-hug. “he had a tiny fight with his girlfriend earlier that’s why he’s being an asshole.”

“eh, don’t care about him,” you said loud enough for mingyu to hear and yell ‘hey!’ with a pout. “what about you junnie?”

“personally?” you nodded “i think some people say that they’re friends to justify the actions that prove they’re more than just that.”

you were about to reply when your phone buzzed from the kitchen counter. eyes automatically wandered to your phone, with seungkwan’s contact name filling the phone.

“he calls you love?” chan asks as he read the text that seungkwan sent you, fondness in chan’s tone. no one was really surprised that it has gotten to the point that seungkwan calls you adorable pet names but for some reason this one did. “how have i never heard him call you that, yn?”

“oh, uh,” you let out a strained, embarrassed laugh “he only calls me that when we’re alone.”

“cute,” wonu smiles, making you even more flustered.

you attempted to dodge the situation by texting seungkwan back, saying that he can crash gyu’s dorm too. “can you save him a plate, gyu? seungkwan’s dropping by in a bit.” you said in a small voice. as soon as the words left your mouth, you realized that whatever you just said will not help your situation at all.

“this is why people assume there’s something more going on with you two,” jun laughs.

“if you believe it, sure,” seungkwan says on the other line. he texted you asking if you were awake a couple of days before your supposed trip. you always had your phone on do not disturb as soon as the clock strikes midnight.

seungkwan, the loving menace that he is, kept pressing the notify anyway button on your thread. hence, the random video call at midnight.

this has been a frequent occurrence in your life. seungkwan has been clingier lately. although he’s always been close to you, kwan’s demeanour around you has changed.

“mhm,” all you could do was hum in response. at this point, you forgot what you were even arguing about. it was probably something petty like not knowing a pop culture reference.

“mhm?! ynnie are you sleeping already?” seungkwan asks on the other end of the call, looking over at your dark screen. he could barely see you in the frame— in fact, he’s firm that you’re not even in the screen at all. all he could see was the bedroom window from your dorm— bright lights from the neighbouring building illuminating the screen.

“hmm?” your eyes were getting droopy. you don’t even remember what happened the rest of the call, assuming that you probably fell asleep while mumbling sweet nothings to kwan.

seungkwan chuckled when the line went quiet and he heard your soft snores. it has always been like this. he would call you before bed and you would often fall asleep during your calls. if anybody asked him, it was his favourite part of his day.

“good night, my love.” he says softly, about to end the call.

“love you,” you mumbled in your sleep, surprising seungkwan. he wasn’t sure if you saying that deep in your sleep means something but that didn’t stop him from having a huge smile on his face.

“love you too, my ynnie.” he whispers, ending the call.

you, jun, and seokmin met up at heaven’s cloud coffee roasters one thursday evening. “ynnie?”

“hm?”

“i texted you last night, you didn’t see?” seokmin asked with a pout.

you shook your head, ashamed. you probably opened the text when you were half-awake and forgot about it completely.

“oh, you know how she would always have her phone on do not disturb,” jun vouched for you, in which you offered him an apologetic smile. “she probably opened it and forgot about it.”

you checked your inbox to see seokmin’s message. you checked the time stamp and saw that he texted you while you were on a call with seungkwan— you two were hosting a netflix party, watching the glory together. “i’m sorry, seok,” you pouted.

“ah, it’s alright.” seokmin smiles at you, pinching your cheeks. he was asking if you had plans this weekend— which is your birthday weekend and your weekend trip with seungkwan. “so, do you have plans this weekend?”

“oh, um, seungkwan and i are going out—“

“you and seungkwan are dating?!” seokmin yells, almost making you spit out your drink.

“seokmin, no!” you practically pleaded, a look of embarrassment present on your face. “what i meant was seungkwan and i made plans this weekend— we’re going on a trip.”

“oh— oh,” there’s a knowing glint in seok’s face, a teasing smirk that already painted a thousand scenarios running through his head. “okay, okay. no worries.”

jun was holding back a laugh. he could sense the frustration emitting off you but he could also see where seokmin’s conclusions were drawn from.

“seok, it’s not what you think—“ you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke on you, seungkwan arrives at the café with a huge smile on his face upon seeing you three. as soon as kwan’s eyes met yours, his smile softens a bit more. this didn’t go unnoticed by seokmin.

“it’s okay, ynnie,” seokmin smiles at you genuinely. “what you and kwan have is the purest form of love.”

“you’ve been awfully quiet, yn,” seungkwan comments as he glances at you from the driver’s seat.

“just couldn’t sleep last night, kwannie,” you mumbled, looking out the window to avoid eye contact.

“you can take a nap, we’re still an hour away from our destination,” he said looking at the estimated arrival time from the navigation system.

“it’s fine,” you said quietly “don’t worry about me.”

seungkwan hummed, unconvinced but chose to drop it. it was a 3-day weekend and seungkwan cannot afford to spend the entire trip full of arguments.

the truth is, ever since seokmin unleashed that line about you, kwan, and love— you began to overthink it.

it’s not like the whole thing is foreign to you, but since other people are pointing it out so blatantly— it did stir up questions that you were beginning to be confused with. hence, sleepless nights.

“yn,” seungkwan calls your name, one hand in the steering wheel while the other hand reaches for yours, intertwining his fingers against yours. “are you sure you’re okay?”

this did not help your situation at all. seungkwan would do this all the time, but now, it’s like your insides are causing a stir.

“mhm,” was all you’ve managed to say. you felt your heart practically leaping out of your chest.

he was determined to hold back with picking petty fights with you this weekend. and seungkwan knew not to pry, so he rubbed small motions on the back your hand— hoping to ease out whatever’s bugging you.

you tried to hide the deep breath you took when seungkwan used his endearing charm to ease your nerves. with your free hand, you sent a quick text to seokmin, something along the lines of feeling overwhelmed and yet warm and but also intoxicated and boo seungkwan.

will you ever survive this trip?

the answer was no, you can’t survive this trip. upon arriving to your accommodation, you went straight to your room— making up some lame excuse that you’re tired.

seungkwan has been exceptionally patient about the whole thing, which surprised you. not that it was news, but he has already gone out of his way to be exceptionally understanding even if you think that you’re being rude most of the time.

so here you were, cooped up in one of the rooms of your air bnb, acting like a 13 year-old hiding from their middle-school crush.

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself as you stared at the empty ceiling.

you were lying on your bed, listening to soft tunes with your eyes closed, when you heard a soft knock on your door. “ynnie, i’m coming in,” you heard seungkwan say on the other side of the door.

he found you lying down on your back, completely straight. you didn’t even look at him nor bothered to open your eyes. your position was so rigid, it made seungkwan burst out of laughter.

you heard a shutter click before opening your eyes and turning to look at him, kwan was smiling so wide with his phone out.

“ya,” you glared at his smiling figure “what are you doing?”

“you look like vernon,” seungkwan laughed and sat beside you to show the picture he just took. your sleeping position was… questionable. you look dead.

“seungkwannie,” you whined as you sat up straight and tried to snatch seungkwan’s phone to delete the photo. seungkwan’s reflexes, however, were unmatched compared to yours. he was quick to shove the phone far from you.

“what?” seungkwan was laughing at your childish antics.

pouting, you placed your chin on his shoulder. “delete it.”

seungkwan turned his head to face you, his face mere inches away from yours. his eyes briefly flickered to your lips, almost taunting him.

you caught a glimpse of seungkwan’s gaze— you knew he looked at your lips, which only confused you even more.

snapping back to reality, you cleared your throat and moved far from seungkwan. he was briefly startled but regained his composure once he saw you stand up.

“are you feeling okay now?” he asked. you nodded timidly. you were not.

seungkwan’s patience was testing its new bounds. he has never been this patient around anyone.

time seemed to be passing by quickly. day 1 of your 3 day weekend was almost coming to an end. you and seungkwan spent the day walking around the town, basically doing whatever you want— café hopping, book shopping, eating, and pottery painting.

name it, seungkwan made it happen— which only made you overthink even more. what’s the real deal between you and kwan?

that’s why when day 2 rolled around, you were now actively avoiding him and this didn’t go by unnoticed by kwan.

by the time it got dark and you weren’t back from your walk, not answering his texts and calls, his patience had come to an end.

you had your phone on do not disturb the entire time you went for fresh air alone. this only made seungkwan worry even more. you were walking around an unfamiliar town, alone.

so now here we are, seungkwan telling you off for not replying to his texts and not answering his calls.

"what if you got stabbed?!" seungkwan dramatically yelled behind you, making you roll your eyes.

"well, did i?" you asked stopping dead in your tracks to face him, crossing your arms. this is you, trying to act like seungkwan's unwavering care for you did not affect you and totally cleared things off for you.

"no," seungkwan answered "but what if you were?!"

"i already told you i was going out for air" you replied, turning your back against him and kept on walking. somehow, the walk back to your accommodation seemed like it went on forever. "if you knew me better, you should know to never call me."

"i tried texting and you still didn't answer!" seungkwan was getting frustrated. his patience for you could only last for so long. it didn't also help the fact that you were avoiding him all day. "seriously, what's the point of having a phone if no one can contact you!"

"seungkwan, this conversation is going nowhere."

"it's because you're too stubborn!" seungkwan pointed out. "see? you're not even listening to me!"

"my ears are starting to bleed, seungkwan," now you were getting annoyed. now this, this is what's relatively normal in your relationship. it's always like this with you two - you and seungkwan bicker like there's no tomorrow, driving each other mad.

you quickened your pace, not in the mood to argue. you knew you were at fault.

“i’m sorry,” you sighed. “i was being a brat—”

“yeah, you were.” seungkwan agreed, not even let you finish. you let out an appalled huff, crossing your arms.

seungkwan laughed, reaching out to uncross your arms and pulling you closer to him. “you know you’re lucky you’re cute or else this behaviour will never work on me.”

“yeah, i know” seungkwan hummed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “now, c'mon. i've got a surprise waiting for you back in our place.”

“i’m sorry, ynnie,” chan said while giving you an apologetic smile, wiping the tears falling down your face “we know you don’t like making a big fuss about your birthdays.”

“but we can’t help it!” seok whined giving you the tightest hug, making you laugh in between tears “how are we not supposed to celebrate your special day?”

turns out, the surprise that seungkwan was talking about was the rest of the guys— who travelled all the way here to surprise you for your birthday.

“oh our sweet, little yn” jun coos as he gives you his present and a hug. they were having a field day with the amount of presents that they kept giving you. apparently, it was hard to choose one specific gift so they got you everything you ever wanted.

it’s taking every bit of you to stop yourself from saying that you’ve already had everything you can only dream of.

once the guys found themselves having their own little world— eating takeout and drinking — seungkwan pulls you aside, asking for you two to have a bit of an alone time with each other.

you both sat on the front porch steps, no space between each other, taking in the quietness of this town with the blanket of stars hovered above you.

“how are you doing, love?” seungkwan asks as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers against yours.

if this was any other day, you would be overwhelmed by how touchy seungkwan was being. however, given the surprise intimate party that was thrown, you were more than relieved to hold his hand since you’ve always found comfort in seungkwan anyway.

“bit overwhelmed,” you laughed “ but thankful. knowing that you all made an effort to do this means a lot.”

your birthdays have always been a sensitive subject. not that there was trauma associated with it, but your family had never made it a big deal. hence, you carried that ever since.

“i know you don’t like celebrating your birthdays,” seungkwan said “but i don’t think i can just let the day pass knowing that you, being here and coming in to my life, had been the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“kwan—“

“and please don’t get mad at them, i just wanted to make today extra special.” seungkwan practically pleads.

“i’m not mad, kwan” you said softly, squeezing his hand slightly to let him know that you’re serious. seungkwan sighs in relief.

silence fell as you two sat there underneath the stars, fingers intertwined. you took this moment to pursue the question that’s been bothering you the past few days. granted, it might make things a bit awkward but birthdays are about milestones, right? maybe being courageous is something that you want to embody as you celebrate being a year older.

“kwan?”

“yes, love?”

“why did you do all of this?” you asked.

“because it’s your birthday,” seungkwan laughs softly, as if you thought that all his efforts stems from something else. “and because you deserve everything good in this world, yn.”

“okay,” you hummed, not entirely convinced by his answer. so you’ve decided to step it up a notch. “do you like me, seungkwan?”

seungkwan was caught off-guard. who wouldn’t be?! the words slipped off your tongue so easily that he stared at you for a minute, looking for any tells that may indicate that you’re fucking around. but you weren’t. seungkwan saw that you were genuinely curious.

“of course, i like you, yn,” seungkwan answers “i mean i know i tease you a lot but that’s why we’re friends, right?”

friends, of course. “ah, right.” you replied, trying your best to show that you’re not forcing a smile. maybe you really were just overthinking things— boo seungkwan does not like you in that way.

seungkwan, however, noticed the change in your demeanour. he also noticed how you were trying to loosen your hand against his. “you don’t seem satisfied,” seungkwan points out lowly.

“hm?”

“were you expecting a different answer, yn?” he asks.

“nope.” you replied, staring directly at the empty streets and avoiding eye contact.

“are you sure?”

“yep.”

“then look at me, yn,” seungkwan says, prompting you to look at him.

he was fighting back a smile which annoyed you for some reason. “what is it, seungkwan?”

“do you like me, yn?” he asks, eyes sparkling as if to tease you even more.

the thing is, seungkwan already likes you. yes, more than a friend. yes, in that kind of way. however, he knew your stance on that whole friends to lovers trope.

you were wondering about mingyu and his girlfriend— how he knew that she was more than a friend. mingyu once answered, “i always knew.”

his answer didn’t help you, only made things confusing for you actually.

you once run by it through kwan, he was caught off-guard, of course. “i don’t know actually,” he tells you.

“right?!” you were surprisingly giddy. seungkwan has never seen this look on you when it came to this topic.

“i believe it’s all happenstance. i think people come into your life to serve a purpose. they can be your ray of your sunshine that easily brightens up your life…” you rambled off “or they can be your hope, you know, something that can easily be your driving force to tackle life or teach you have hope.”

“or they can just simply come into your life to teach you love and how to love.” seungkwan tells you.

you smile at his answer. when you two are not playfully bickering, he can be the sweetest person that you know. “so which is it?”

“i’ll let you know if ever find out,” seungkwan replies with a smile. he already knew the answer, he’s just waiting for you to figure out the answer yourself.

birthdays are about milestones right? courage. this year you’re going to learn about courage.

taking a deep breath, you answered “yes.”

“i’m sorry, what?” kwan practically chokes on his spit.

“boo seungkwan, i like you.”

“really?” he grins. “so which is it?” this time he leans in, his face inches away from you.

“what do you mean?” you asked quietly, the proximity of your faces was starting to drive you nuts.

“did you finally figure out how you knew i meant more as a friend to you?” closer. he kept leaning in closer.

as soon as he asked the question, he pursed his lips together, prompting you to look at it.

“mhm.” you hummed. when did his lips get so red? has it always been this red?

“and?” he smiles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“phone calls,” you whispered, your lips mere inches away from his. “i don’t mind answering your phone despite putting it on do not disturb.”

“i knew it,” seungkwan whispers back, lips touching lightly touching against yours. “because i’ve liked you before then.”

you pulled back a bit, “i thought you only liked me as a friend?”

“when did i say that?”

“uh, minutes ago?” you replied with a raised brow “are you trying to gaslight me?”

“no,” seungkwan laughed “but i was trying to wait and see if you were ever going to profess your undying love for me.”

you scoffed at his answer, making him laugh even more. he then cups your face gently, leaning in closely. you were back to where you two used to be— lips slightly touching each other.

“kwan?”

“hm?”

“are you going to kiss me?”

“i’ve always wanted to,” kwan says before pressing his lips against yours. “and now i don’t think i can stop myself from doing so,” he says as he pulls away briefly, but kisses you back again.

everything felt so light when it happened. his lips were soft, the way he cupped your face— gentle. it’s as if everything clicked, everything felt right.

boo seungkwan felt right.

BONUS: can't get you off my mind | seungkwan

hiya friends! it's missing boo seungkwan hour ! ☹️ also, thank u so much for all the love that i've received from my other works! i read all the comments and all the tags— just know it fills me with so much love!

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alonetimelover · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x tennis player!reader

summary: "Can't hear the haters when you're slaying"

tennis player!reader

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 14 104 others

harryupdates Harry and YN were spotted in London yesterday! via emglishmanharry

view all 1 023 comments

ynupdates glad to see yn well rested before the big paris!!

harrysmoustache he looks SOOOOOO good, man

harryshoee they are such a handsome couple, i literally can't take it anymore

tennisfan01 walkover in Italy to have a longer vacation? very professional of her

tennisfan92 here you have an example of why she's losing so much lately

tennisfan101 choosing a boy instead of your job??? classy

ynhater professional player only in billboards

ynhater16 she's becoming more of a celebrity than a tennis player, you can now see what she's really after 💸

comments to this post have been disabled

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ynupdates

liked by harryupdates, ynsmybestie and 28 101 others

ynupdates I really don't know if I should write this... This photo is from YN's practice in Paris today. She broke down crying after multiple people from the audience kept calling her names, howling and disturbing. Those people were just a percentage of the ones that are actively judging her on the internet. And it is NOT okay. And it will never be. Some people should stay at home and keep shouting at their TV, leaving this lovely young woman to live HER life the way SHE wants to. She doesn't owe you anything. Treat her the way you'd like to be treated, with respect and kindness.

comments to this post have been limited

harryupdates couldn't have said it better

ynshands i hate those people, who do they think they are???

ynsmybestie i actually broke down crying with her, it was heartbreaking to see and hear

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harrysmoustache

liked by harryupdates, ynshands and 22 101 others

harrysmoustache after years of listening to Harry, i got to see him live. yes, this show was different. Yes, he was disappointed and angry. yes, he wasn't his usual bubbly smiley self. am I going to complain? no. he had a reason to be and its okay. I still listened to my favourite song (fine line) and forgot about my problems. thank you, harrystyles

view all 2 101 comments

harrynewfan hi, im a new fan and don't know what is happening in the fandom yet. could someone explain?

⤷ ynsmybestie harry is in a relationship with YN YSN. and right now, she is receiving a lot of hate because of losing tournaments and taking a break. its all over twitter (she's been trending for a week now)

ynupdates it seems that the situation really got to him. it's so sad to see

ynsmybestie i hope they are okay. i fear them breaking up, like man.... i can't think about it, imma cry

harryshoee did any of you miss what he said on stage???

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twitter

emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

here's a thread of what harry said today concerning the outrageous comments about yn

1) "Your sign says: "I was bullied into changing myself. You helped me find the way back." First of all, you did it yourself because you are the strong individual. Secondly, I hope that those bullies learnt how to use their ability to communicate, right? This show is not a safe place for bullies, any bullies. Treat people with kindness."

11k comments | 34k shares | 74k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

2) Right before singing Fine Line: If I may have your attention, please! This song has been very special for a person close to me lately, and I'd like to dedicate it to her. Uhmm, sometimes when life gets hard and everyone seems to be against you, there - there is someone still for you, believing in you. This is for you."

10k comments | 32k shares | 70k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

3) After seeing the sign *are you coming to the Roland Garros?* "am I going? of course i am. my girlfriend is defending her title there. of course, I'm gonna be there! what a ridiculous question *laughing*. are you coming? you are. i hope to see you there. she loves the support even though she doesn't want to admit to it."

9k comments | 38k shares | 90k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

4) when there were five signs about yn next to each other: "did you coordinate that? no? you don't know each other! that's great! why are you writing signs about someone else on MY concert, hmm? I'm sorry, what? oh, you want to show your support. that's great. that's lovely. I think yn would love to see it. May I take a picture of you guys?"

and he did take a picture of them!!!!

14k comments | 40k shares | 80k likes

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harry LOT | harryupdates

this concert was very different and I think everyone needed it. harry made a clear statement: there is no place for hate and cruelty that people put YN through. and i thank him for that, really. what a great man.

4k comments | 6k shares | 3k likes

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yn my queen | ilovetennis

i am glad that Harry finally spoke up against it

1k comments | 654 shares | 2,1k likes

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ynupdates

liked by harryupdates, ynsmymama and 5 201 others

ynupdates YN via IG stories! thankfully the first round went easy and she's waiting for tomorrow's opponent. can't wait to see another match!

also, yes, i am disabling the comments because haters didn't learn anything.

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, tennismylife and 9 201 others

harryupdates HARRY posing for pictures tonight!

edit: the sign said "pose as if yn is taking a picture of you"

view all 2 201 comments

harryshoee this show is looking very promising and we're just few minutes in!!!!

hArrysbtch babes, he looks cuuuuuute

ynsmybestie im in love

yntennisqueen im beginning to like him

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twitter

seeing harry tonight | harryontour

"she's in paris, cause she's defending her Roland Garros title. and she's in the arena to define if I'm a better performer than Taylor Swift. baby, what's the verdict?"

when i tell you i screamed. sorry, screeched at him, i bet if he heard he would think I was possessed.

16k comments | 12k shares | 32k likes

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lily loves harry | lilyamazing

and then they showed yn screaming "you know im a swiftie!" i love this woman

3k comments | 1k shares | 12k likes

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seeing harry tonight | harryontour

the fucking update I have guys...

Harry: your sign says "have you listened to midnights?" have I listened to midnights?! who do you think I am? midnights? pfff. *after a little pause* yes. yes, I did. my girlfriend loooooves it.

and then he walked off singing: karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

I LOVE HIM

28k comments | 34k shares | 102k likes

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harry and tay | midnightsqueen

he's a karma stan, slay king!!!!

3k comments | 4k shares | 7k likes

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andrew is right | billhater

oh, so she's going to concerts the night before a match. no wonder she's losing so much.

14k comments | 8k shares | 1k likes

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ynupdates

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 47 291 others

ynupdates couldn't imagine having a better response to the haters. yn ysn everybody!

edit: what in the fuck is harry styles doing on my profile??? wtf is yn doing here as well???

view all 6 028 comments

harryupdates👏 this 👏 is 👏 how 👏 you do it 👏

harrystyles can't here the haters when you're slaying

⤷ yourinstagram oh god, harry xD

⤷ ynsmybestie wtf are you doing here guys????

⤷ harryupdates couldn't imagine my Friday going any better, my life is made, I can die happily

⤷ yourinstagram please don't, im going to sue harry if you do

ynsmymama this match was everything. she IS the leader

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates and 18 291 302 others

harrystyles #22 ❤️🎂

comments have been disabled

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, taylorswift and 2 201 493 others

yourinstagram i don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22!

thank you for all the birthday wishes, i love you all ❤️

comments have been limited

harrystyles happy birthday, baby ❤️❤️

taylorswift and it looks good on you! Happy birthday, YN!

⤷ yourinstagram no way

⤷ yourinstagram thank you so much!!! i love you!!!

#harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles instagram #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #tennis player!reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Can you make a full writing about the little blurb you did about the pic harry posted for harry’s house 1 year bday? Xx

CHEESY

A/N: at first i didn't want to write more about it, but im so deep in the fluffy content that i ended up expanding the little scene i wrote. of course, original idea by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: It's your annual trip to Italy with your boyfriend, but he is planning to make it special by asking you one important question.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“Harry! Are you ready? We have to leave!”

“I’m coming!”

Harry quickly takes the diamond ring out of the velvet box and slips it into his back pocket, praying to God he won’t lose it before the big moment. He drops the box back into his bag in a hurry, burying it underneath his shirts before walking out of the bedroom of the villa you’ve been sharing for the past week.

It’s your fourth year in a row when the two of you spend two weeks in Italy so it’s safe to say that it’s now a tradition. But this year will be different.

As Harry walks out to the hall he finds you standing by the front door in a white sundress and a straw hat, your totebag hanging from your shoulder and he catches you putting your polaroid camera inside. He got you the camera for last Christmas and you’ve snapped hundreds of pictures since then. Harry loves the excitement on your face when you’re waiting for the photo to develop.

Looking up a smile stretches across your face when you see him in his green and white striped t-shirt that’s tucked into a pair of nice jeans, his hair looks lush and soft, a pair of retro aviator sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt and then there’s the mustache… That mustache! You love it so much, even though you’ve never been a big fan of facial hair, but Harry proved you wrong.

“What took you so long? Were you styling the ‘stache?” you tease him as you wrap your arms around his waist and steal a quick kiss.

“Gotta take good care of it,” he smirks. “Alright, let’s go.”

After a thirty minute drive you leave the car at the bottom of the mountain before starting the hike that takes you up to the winery. You’ve been here last year and you enjoyed it so much you wanted to come back, but this time you decided to approach the place on foot. It’s a nice change, you haven’t been too active in the past week, well, outside of the bedroom, at least.

“Just one picture! Come on!” you urge him, pushing him in place, your polaroid camera all ready in your other hand to snap a picture of your boyfriend.

“You have a dozen pictures of me already, Love,” he chuckles but obeys and leans against the stone wall running along the trail you’ve been hiking up to the winery on top of the hill.

“Fuck, you look so good!” you groan as you snap the picture, enamored by the beauty if your lover.

“Not as good as you,” he compliments you back, his eyes slipping down on your body, amazed by the way the white sundress flows so effortlessly around your figure. You’re tinkering with your camera as he reaches into his back pocket, making sure the ring is still there. His fingers tap on the diamond and he exhales, glancing up at the top of the hill where the terracotta roof of the winery is already peeking out from behind the trees. He knows everything is all ready for your arrival, the staff has sent him a picture of the beautifully decorated pergola where he will ask the big question, but still, his pulse is starting to spike. He’s been planning this for over a year now, though if he is being honest, he’s known he would ask you to marry him the day he met you. He’s not sure how, but he just knew.

You walk hand in hand for the rest of the hike and you rave about how much you hope they will have a bottle of the same wine you drank last time, because you haven’t drunk anything like that since then. Little do you know, Harry requested fifty bottles to be delivered to your home when you get back.

“Hm, it looks… a bit different than last year,” you note as you finally reach the top and notice the decorations.

“Yeah, it does,” Harry smiles as he exchanges a look with the staff lined up in front of the building.

“Why was everyone waiting for us? And what’s with the smiles? I know people around here are nice but this is a bit too much,” you whisper to him, while trying your best to return the smiles.

“You’ll see.”

Harry pulls you over towards the pergola as you’re trying to put one and one together, but as soon as you see all the fairy lights and flowers that decorate the place, you finally realize what this is about.

“Harry!” you gasp as you finally stand in the middle of the pergola and Harry turns to face you, holding both your hands.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, but you notice the nervous shake in his voice. Your eyes are already tearing up and you need to hold yourself back to let him talk and give him the moment he planned out. He takes a deep breath and then speaks up.

“I have loved you since the day I met you. It’s cheesy, but it’s true. We bonded over liking the same kind of beer at the pub and I made Mitch promise to never tell you this, but on our way home I told him that if I were to marry anyone, it would be you.”

You let out a chuckle as tears stream down your face, drinking up his words.

“It’s been four years now and you taught me so many things. You taught me to be my best version, to see the beauty in everything and… I can’t imagine a day when you’re not with me in some kind of way. I see you in the clouds, because I remember when we watched them for hours on the roof of your old building. I see you in my coffee, because it reminds me of the time you brought me a cup to bed in the morning and spilled it all over me.”

He laughs and you do the same, letting go of his hand just to wipe your cheeks quickly and then you grab his hands again.

“Even when you’re not with me, you still are. And I want this to stay the same for the rest of my life.”

He gets down on one knee and reaches into his back pocket, grabbing the ring and then holding it up as you gasp again, as if you didn’t know this was coming.

“I love you, Y/N, and I can’t imagine a day when I won’t, because it’s impossible. I will always love you. And I want to celebrate the love I have for you the most sacred way possible. Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh my God of course I will!” you burst out, throwing yourself at him sobbing and laughing at the same time. You almost both fall to the ground, he hugs you tighter than ever.

When you finally pull back you’re kneeling, just like him and he takes your shaky hand, putting the ring on your finger finally and of course, it fits perfectly.

You’re not noticing the soft music playing in the background and how the staff is cheering on you, you tuned it all out the moment you realized what Harry was about to do.

Harry stands up and helps you up as well, circling his arms around you right away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he smiles down at you. You exhale, turning into jelly in his arms as you reach up and take his face in your hands.

“I love you,” you softly tell him.

“I love you too,” he replies and presses his lips to yours, the first kiss you share as an engaged couple.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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nightghoul381 · 6 months ago

Text

Sweet Delight ~ Harrison Gray (POV) x Reader

Entry number 1 in @judejazza's An Invitation to Crown Castle event!

Pairing: Harrison Gray (POV) x Reader Prompt: Rain Kisses Genre: Fluff with a lil bit of spice (and an opportunity for a potential part 2?) CW: None WC: 1.3k

You still don’t seem to be able to tell when I’m lying to you. Either that or you’ve gotten very good at acting like you don’t know.

I know it was a weak excuse when I asked you to join me in getting sweets for the upcoming party because I was ‘worried Victor would try to do something weird with the desserts’ but you seemed to be fine with it.

It had taken a while to figure out which shop we should go to for the sweets, so when you suggested we sample a lot of them and go back for the best, I couldn’t exactly refuse. I love getting to watch how your face lights up when you taste something delicious. You have such an honest face.

The first couple of shops were good, different sweets and chocolates but none seemed to be just right. I could tell you were getting a little frustrated when I kept shooting down the shops, but I can’t help but want to keep you out and all to myself.

I know when we get back to the castle, you’ll get swept away into some mission or activity and my time with you will be cut short.

The bell rang out as we entered the next shop and the expression on your face quickly morphed from disappointment to interest as the smell of freshly baked pastries hit your nose.

“It smells really good…” you whisper, leaning your head toward me conspiratorially. I chuckle and nod, approaching the clerk and inquiring about a sample.

“Oh, uh… we don’t usually give out samples, the pastries are rather small and the owner isn’t keen on handing out free portions…” The clerk murmured sheepishly.

Damn, they’re telling the truth too.

“Well, can I get one of the pastries then?” I ask, setting down some money on the counter.

Moments later, there’s a steaming pastry on a plate in your hands. I can practically see you salivating right now, you must be so excited to try it, but you merely carry it over to a table and slide into a seat.

I slowly stroll over to the table, taking my time and enjoying the way you squirm impatiently, gaze flicking between me and the treat sitting before you.

“Harrison… are you stalling for a reason?” You asked, fixing me with your pointed gaze.

“Who said I was stalling?” I laugh, nudging the plate toward you with a smirk.

“The way you’ve been unsatisfied with each shop we’ve been to when normally any sweets are good enough for you… And how you’re not taking the pastry and splitting it in half so you can devour your portion,” you state bluntly.

“Haha, busted,” I admit, flashing a grin your way. “I don’t feel like sharing you with the others today.”

Your face flushes at my straightforward admission, eyes widening as you turn your attention back to the pastry. I pick up a knife and cut the pastry in two, rich red filling steaming as it hits the cold air. I can feel my mouth watering and scoop up my half, nearly bringing it to my mouth before I had another idea.

I reach my arm across the table and hold the treat in front of your face, causing you to let out a surprised squeak.

“Harry, wha—”

I slip the pastry between your lips and chuckle as you give in and bite it. It must be good because the little moan you let out as you chew seems to slip out unintentionally. Your cheeks are so red right now and I can’t hide the smirk on my face as I watch you intently.

“What do you think? Is it good?” I ask, resting my chin on one hand, lazily toying with the other half of the pastry while I await your answer.

“I—uh yeah. They’re really good… ahem… why don’t you try it?” You mumble, trying to regain your composure.

Allowing you a moment’s reprieve, I pop the remaining portion in my mouth, savoring the surprisingly sweet and tart filling contrasting with the rich buttery pastry. A moment later I freeze as I realize that I too have unintentionally let out a satisfied moan.

Damn, there’s no taking that back… you’re going to say we should get these and that we ought to head back.

“Good,” I confirm. When you nod I take that as a sign that my assumption of you wanting to wrap things up is correct.

I stand up and head over to the counter. We take turns selecting different sweets from their display case, having the clerk pack them into two parcels for us. After paying we make our way outside, walking side by side and chatting about everything and nothing, your melodic laugh and cheery voice are like a drug to me. I can’t seem to get enough. I always want more.

“��Oh.”

You stop in your tracks, head jolting upward as another drop hits you from above.

“Oh no! If it rains the sweets will be ruined!” You fret, looking around frantically for some sort of shelter to run for. Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing but open fields on either side of the road we’re on.

“What a shame. Guess we ought to eat them. That way they won’t go to waste,” I offer, opening my parcel and drawing out a small cake, deep red with a rich white icing. I hold the sweet in front of your face and you stare at me in disbelief.

The rain has started falling more regularly and in a few moments we’ll no doubt be soaked, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I like getting you all worked up like this.

“Harrison, you can’t truly expect us to eat all of these sweets! Maybe if we run, we can ma—” I cut off your words once again by placing the treat into your mouth.

I wait impatiently as you chew and swallow, before leaning in and stealing your lips with my own. I let my tongue dart out, flicking against your lips for just a moment before you melt into me. The rich flavor of the cake and tangy taste of the icing are still dominant as I suck your tongue into my mouth.

I hear both of us letting out eager and needy groans as I continue to devour your lips. I don’t even remember the rain until I go to cradle the back of your head and my fingers meet very wet hair.

Pulling back slightly I allow our heavy breathing to be the only thing between us for a moment before chuckling and stating “…delicious.”

I notice that you’ve dropped your parcel and mine has been discarded similarly, your eyes are filled with an intense craving for something a little more satisfying than sweets. I feel your hands dig into my coat, pulling my shoulders down and giving you better access to my lips.

“Hey, what—”

“I… I don’t think you tasted it properly…” You whisper, pushing your plump lips against mine. How am I supposed to deny that?

I plunge my tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch with acute focus. So sweet… I could kiss you forever and still wish to kiss you again. When I feel the wind blow past us, causing you to shudder, I know I’m going to have to be the one to pause this.

I slip my hands over your fists, still clinging to my coat, squeezing gently to convince you to let go.

Pulling away with disappointment, you look up at me with needy eyes and I remind myself that you need to get dried off before you get sick.

“Come on. We’ll head back to the castle and get you warmed up. Then we can pick up where we left off.”

Taglist: @judejazza @aquagirl1978, @themiscarnival @abundance-pathchooser @xbalayage @maries-gallery @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys

If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!

#ikevil #ikemen villains #invitation2crowncc #ikevil harry #ikemen villains harry #ikevil harrison #ikemen villains harrison #harrison gray #ikevil harrison gray

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allthelovehes · 7 months ago

Text

Care and Connection* | TEASER

Summary: Y/N has been babysitting Harry's daughter for a couple of months now and the two of them grew rather fond of each other. Harry can't help but swoon when he comes home to find his daughter wrapped up in Y/N's arms, both asleep on the sofa.

Pairing: Singledad!Harry x reader

Word count: 2.8K TEASER of a 9K Patreon Exclusive!

Warnings: Smut, lots of love and care, cutest girl ever, oh right back to the smut: protected sex, oral both f and m receiving, swallowing (iykyk), taboo relationship(?).

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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Four months into getting her master's degree, Y/N stumbled upon a babysitting gig for a wealthy single dad. Harry Styles promised the opportunity of a lifetime. After graduating she could use him as a reference and would even have a chance to be head of her own department in his corporation. All she had to do was keep his kid alive and act like their best friend. This shouldn't be too difficult.

Her boss was nothing like she had expected. Y/N loved children and had babysat through her undergrad years so Harry was definitely on board with the resume she put in. What he didn't count on was the temptation the beautiful girl brought with her. His three-year-old daughter adores her and seeing his daughter so happy made him weak as well. But Y/N too wasn't prepared for the tension that'd soon build between the two of them.

Y/N's schedule is perfect for her job, she takes three classes a week at the university which are all morning classes leaving her plenty of time to watch Grace in the afternoon so Harry can go to the office. Being the CEO allows him to work from home and they agreed upon the three mornings, as long as she's finished by 1 PM. Her master's requires a lot of self-study but Harry promised her the use of his office, whenever she needed it.

After finishing her classes, Y/N steps in her car and drives to the Styles residence. She clicks the button of the remote control so the gate to Harry's property opens. Whenever Y/N wonders how her boss can afford such a beautiful home, she reminds herself that she really shouldn't pry too much into people's personal lives. She shakes the question away every time because truthfully she doesn't want to know.

“Y/N!” Grace shouts excitedly when the front door opens. Her little feet slide against the wooden flooring, while the small girl is making her way over to her.

“Hi, Gracie.” She smiles brightly, crouching down so she can wrap her arms around her. “You can actually run a marathon now.” She pokes her tongue out.

“Daddy said I hafta put on my shoes first.” The small girl points at her bare feet. “Then you can race.”

“Daddy is smart, you'd be way faster with your shoes on!” Y/N agrees. Grace's favourite activity is definitely running. Ever since the day she found out how fast her legs could carry her, there was no going back.

“Y/N, I am so glad you're here.” Harry walks into the entrance and the Y/N can't help but bite her lip. He wears a tight black turtleneck sweater, showing off his chest and when he turns to close the door, his trousers fit very nicely. Y/N shakes her head, chastising herself for once again admiring the beauty that is her boss. “You are early.”

Y/N gets up, looking at her wristwatch. “By two minutes.” She can feel the blush creeping up her cheeks because even though they've been doing this babysitting gig for a couple of months, she is still caught off guard when they talk. “My professor ended his lecture earlier than expected.” She explains.

“I should reward your punctuality.” He smirks mischievously. If she hadn't fallen in love with his daughter first, it would've probably been him.

Grace slides into her purple Converse shoes and looks up at the pair while attempting to tie her shoes.

“Come here baby.” Y/N reaches a hand out. “Let me help you.” She watches as the girl makes her way to her with a bright smile. She's definitely taken after Harry. Her brown hair covers a good part of her back when it's down, which always has Harry insisting that she does a half ponytail. Her small chubby hands roam around with any and everything making it all the more impossible to grasp properly. But if there's one thing Y/N has learned in these last couple of months it's that it doesn't take a lot of effort for Grace to grasp hold of someone's heart. Y/N finishes tying her shoe before wrapping the little girl's hair into a ponytail, using the band on her wrist to secure it into place and picking up the toddler.

“Is it a race?” Grace asks curiously.

“I was thinking that we can make french toast.” Y/N suggests, laughing at herself as she proposes something completely different from what Grace insists on.

“French toast?” Grace scrunches her nose up in disapproval.

“Yes, Grace!” She exclaims. “We need to eat first.”

Harry watches their interaction and doesn't even attempt to hide the amusement that crosses his features.

“Ok.” The three-year-old girl answers. “I guess.”

“It's only until lunch.” Y/N reminds her. “Then afterwards we can go running. You and me?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Daddy's not gonna come?” Grace mumbles a soft pout on her face.

“I have to work, baby.” Harry reminds his daughter. “Y/N will watch you today while I am at work. She is gonna make sure you eat and sleep and she'll play with you until you tire her out.” He smiles. “Just like every other Thursday.” He wraps his right arm around Y/N's waist, leaning in so he can kiss the top of his daughter's head. “Now be nice.”

“I don't want to sleep, daddy.” Grace frowns, the disappointment and resistance clear on her face.

“Later.” He smiles. “Daddy is late.”

“Did you eat?” Y/N looks at him. “I can make you lunch too.” She offers.

“I already ate, don't worry.” He chuckles. “Besides I know it's not in your job description to care for me.” Harry smirks.

“But if your baby doesn't get the proper attention and you're too weak from starvation, I will be liable.” Y/N offers nonchalantly and feels her cheeks warm when his gaze meets hers.

“Can I go jump on the bed?” Grace interrupts them.

“Absolutely not!” They both scold in unison before turning their heads to stare at the other. Harry chuckles as he sends her a wink.

“I'm going to go now. Be good.” He says looking at Grace. “You too, Y/N.” He winks at her.

“I am always on my best behaviour, Mr. Styles.” She teases.

“I know.” He hums satisfied. “That's the problem.” ***

Y/N walks out of Harry's office, making sure to quietly close the door behind her. Grace peacefully fell asleep after running for thirty minutes straight in the backyard and Y/N took the opportunity to use Harry's home office to study for her classes. She just found out she had an exam on Monday and it was way too close for her comfort.

When Grace wakes up from her nap, Y/N gets her changed and ready for the rest of their afternoon together. Y/N keeps busy to get through Grace's demanding behaviour, so she figures some baking will be a good activity. She's wearing Harry's apron, her hair has come undone with all the frustration she has with measuring the dry ingredients but honestly, she couldn't care less about anything else. She's covered in flower and possibly milk but she prides herself on the fact that the smell of banana bread has taken over the house.

“Grace?” She calls but receives no answer. “Grace!” She calls again, a bit louder this time but still nothing. Where is she? Y/N steps out of the kitchen and into the living room where she finds the little girl laying down on the sofa. “Are you hungry?”

“Mmhm.” Grace shakes her head.

“No? Are you sleepy, love?” Y/N sits down next to the toddler and runs her hand over her back.

“My tummy hurts.” Grace frowns, holding her stomach.

“It hurts?” She frowns, pressing her hand down against Grace's belly and rubbing circles on it with her thumb. “Come here.” Y/N gently lifts Grace onto her lap. “Where does it hurt, baby?”

Grace pulls a pout on her face, her eyes looking at Y/N for a second before pressing her lips into a thin line. She pushes her cheek against the babysitter's chest and points to her stomach.

“Is it a big hurt?” Y/N feels worried for the child. She doesn't want Grace to be in pain and what's worse is that it's the first time something like this happens. “Gracie?” She whispers, and the little girl merely nods her head.

“Oh, come here baby.” Y/N coos and lays down with Grace in her arms. She covers them with the blanket from the back of the sofa, keeping them warm.

Grace settles between the crevice of her neck and chest, clinging to Y/N as her fingers softly graze the nape of her neck. Her fingers twirl a strand of Y/N's hair around them while the thumb of her free hand is caught between her lips.

Y/N curls her hands over Grace's head as she begins humming a tune for the little girl. She closes her eyes, allowing the smooth melody to come out and waits patiently for the girl to fall asleep. It doesn't take much longer for Grace to relax and after one more round, Y/N is certain the toddler has succumbed to her dreams. She lays with the little girl, not wanting to wake her up and keeps humming and soothingly patting her back.

Eventually, she opens her eyes as she feels a soft pressure on top of her head and sees Harry standing there caressing her hair, quietly staring back at her. How long has he been standing there?

“You fell asleep.” He whispers, his voice full of amusement.

“How did your meeting go?” Y/N keeps her voice at a low level as not to startle her little sleeper.

“You had a tough day, sweetheart?” He asks, sitting down on the other sofa in front of them. His dimpled smile breaks out as she nods her head at him. Harry is genuinely touched at seeing the closeness between his girl and the woman who has brought so much happiness to his family.

Y/N turns her head, nuzzling her nose against Grace's hair and taking a deep breath. The little girl moves to press a leg between her knees and pushes her feet against her thigh, feeling the warm embrace.

“When did this happen?” He motions to Grace.

“She said her tummy hurt.” Y/N explains. “I thought we could keep snuggling a bit. Besides if I laid her down she'll probably wake up.”

“A wise decision.” He assures her, letting his head rest on his palm.

Y/N smiles for a moment before her eyes fall to his lap. “How was your meeting?” She asks.

“Exhausting.” Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kept thinking about my girls at home.” He looks at her and she bites her bottom lip trying to hide her shy smile. She loves how he said girls, as in plural.

They stare at each other a bit longer, neither one wanting to break their eye contact, in a sense begging the other to be the first. Grace lets out a small cough, startling Y/N into looking away. She turns to see the small girl's forehead all bunched up.

“It's ok, honey.” She whispers, pressing a small kiss to her temple. She begins her lullaby again and it doesn't take long for Grace to settle into a deep sleep.

“So beautiful.” He hums after a while, looking at the way Grace falls at ease in Y/N's arms. “Let's put her to bed so we can have dinner.” Harry offers and takes the small child in his arms and carries her up the stairs.

Y/N stays behind and cleans up the mess they made in the kitchen, thankful that she let the food she planned on cooking for dinner stay in the fridge. She glances up as she sees Harry strolling down the staircase. His long legs carry him forward in a few strides and she rolls her eyes at herself for finding such a stupid activity exciting.

“Is she asleep?” Y/N asks.

“Mmhm.” Harry stretches his arms above his head and Y/N catches a sliver of skin beneath his sweater. It only lasts a moment but it's enough for Y/N to release the breath she didn't realise she was holding in.

Harry lowers his arms and reaches the kitchen, taking a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter. He had his hands pressed on top of it as his eyes look down. After a small sigh, he looks up at Y/N.

“I was thinking-” He pauses. “-me and you, we should talk.” He keeps his hands pressed on the cold marble, balling them into fists at the fear of her rejection.

Y/N's face shows an expression of worry. “Oh no, was I not meeting the needed requirements of my job?” She questions, folding the dish towel on her shoulder. “I've tried to give as much love and care to Grace as possible. I promise that I will not abandon her or neglect her or her well-being.”

Harry smiles lovingly at her. “You are amazing with her.” He remarks, leaning his elbows on the counter. “But that's not what I was talking about.”

“It's not?” Y/N pouts, now very confused about what he really wants to say.

“This babysitting thing, Y/N.” Harry begins. “We both know that this is more than that.” He waits for her reaction.

“Ok..” She drags out the 'o'. “I mean if you've been-“

“Can you please sit down?” He interjects.

Y/N smiles politely, afraid to show too much of the happiness that has taken over her. Harry can see her hesitancy and can tell she's trying her best to remain calm while she takes her seat next to him. She turns her stool a little bit so she's directly facing him.

Harry stares at her for a moment, taking her in and how natural it seems for them to sit down like this. His fingers reach out, brushing her cheek lightly but pulling his hand back when she frowns. It's too soon. It's inappropriate. But he wants her so much.

“I care for you a lot.” He starts again, with a newfound confidence and strength. “I think it's more than just Grace at this point. You have become a part of my family in such a short amount of time. You've shown me the joy of welcoming another human in my home and offering them safety and love.”

“I love being here.” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat. “Grace is so perfect and I- I care for her immensely. I would do anything for her.”

“You also happen to be exquisite.” Harry remarks. “Possibly the prettiest woman I have ever laid eyes on.” Y/N ducks her head and he can sense the heat radiating from her skin. “It's not my place to cross any boundaries but I can't deny the chemistry and connection we share. I am so attracted to you.”

She bites her lower lip. This is going all wrong. “But, Harry.”

“Y/N.” He interrupts her. “Let me finish.” He tilts his head to the side.

“I've seen the way you've been looking at me.” Harry reaches out, lifting her chin with his fingers. “It's the same way I look at you when you're not looking back.”

“It's true.” She admits. “I just-” Y/N frowns. “I thought that maybe, and please don't hate me for thinking this, I thought that perhaps I was seeing things that weren't actually there, delusional daydreaming.” She scoffs and Harry licks his lips, a smirk visible.

“Allow me to clear the confusion.” He whispers, running his fingers along her jaw, towards the right side of her neck. “I want you.” He reveals, slightly tilting her head back with a gentle push, so her eyes meet his. “And I will wait until you decide you're ready.”

She tenses up, a hand on her thigh as the other grips at the hem of her blouse. “What if I'm ready now?” Y/N muses.

Harry leans back, pushing himself off the stool and stepping forward as the gap between him and Y/N lessens. “Then I'd say we skip dinner.” He says, his voice a bit deeper and definitely surer than before. Her eyes travel his face, holding the gaze of his bright green eyes for a second longer.

“We definitely should, Mr. Styles.” Y/N decides to call him by his last name as she sees the spark ignite in his eyes. “After all, you are the boss.” She chuckles.

“That's right, love.” He smirks. “I am.” Harry wraps his arms around her, pulling her off the stool and holding her securely against his frame. The younger woman wraps her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist, giving him all the assurance he needs. “God, look at you.” He murmurs before pressing his lips to hers.

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 8.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, 69’ing, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️

The Freddie smut train isn’t stopping 🌹

George returned a little while later, taking a suspiciously long time in the shower which you didn't doubt had been organised by Fred.

"Are you both decent?" He asked as he crept in, smiling at seeing that you were both now clothed and sat on the bed laughing.

"Reckon tea will be ready soon," George says, hopping onto the bed, now clean and redressed. He immediately pulls you into his arms, getting the cuddles you'd promised earlier as you absently draw shapes onto the skin of his arm with your finger as you all chat until Molly calls you for tea.

You all sit and chat as you eat, Fred, Harry and Ron all celebrating their win from earlier in the day. Molly has made a heap of mashed potato, steak and onion pies and veg which you excitedly tuck into, knowing how much you'll miss her cooking when the week comes to an end. It was Hermione's last day at the burrow tomorrow before she went home to her parents and so you were all trying to think of something you could do tomorrow, gathering ideas or group activities but not quite deciding anything.

Fred looks increasingly fidgety throughout dinner, which made you glance at him questioningly a few times. It wasn't entirely uncharacteristic for him to be squirmy and hyper but this seemed different, like he couldn't wait to get away from the table. Once the meal had been had, you and both twins make your way up to their bedroom with Fred immediately fluttering round the room grabbing random things and slinging them into a little shopping bag he'd knicked from Molly.

"You'll probably need a sweater princess, want one of mine?" He asks as he delves into the drawers, not waiting for an answer as he pulls out a green knitted jumper with a big 'F' on the front in gold lettering. You gladly accept and look down at what you're wearing, suddenly wondering if they're suitable.

"Fred, do I need to get changed?" You ask, making him pause briefly as he looks at you up and down.

"No princess, though if you want to wear less I'd have no qualms," he smirks before returning to his digging. You roll your eyes and turn your gaze to George who is lay on the bed reading. You slink into bed beside him and without ever taking his gaze off the page, he opens up his arm for you to cuddle into his side.

"Gonna miss you," you whisper in his ear, quiet enough so Fred wouldn't hear. You see him smile and turn to you as his hand creeps down to reach your bum, giving it a little pat.

"You already know I'll miss you," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Right! Princess if you would like to follow me," Fred says, standing beside the bed and offering his elbow to you like a man in an old fashioned movie. You giggle and stand to grab his elbow, casting one last glance back at George before you slip out of the door and down the stairs, following Fred until he leads you out of the house.

"Where are we going?" You ask, your arms still gripping his arm as he guides you. He looks over at you with a smirk and winks, not disclosing anything.

You follow the familiar path up to the back field, praying that he wasn't going to make you play quidditch.

When you got to the field, he pulled the bag off his wide shoulders and pulled out a large picnic blanket and laid it on the floor as he knelt down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Okay my princess, we have a blanket, some candles, some beer and."

"Where did you get that?" You interject, laughing as he pulls out two bottles of beer from the bag, no doubt stolen from Arthur's stash. He gives you a wicked smile and leans in to pull you into a kiss, both of you giggling as your lips meet. He then lights the candles around you and reaches into the bag to pull out a little box.

"Okay we have Weasley's whizzbangs, whizzfire bangs, whammy rockets and miraculous mystic mayhem makers," Fred smiles as he pulls out a selection of fireworks from the bag, all tried and tested Weasley products they'd been developing.

"Putting on a show for me handsome?" You flirt, looking at the selection of explosives in front of you.

"Sweetheart, I'm constantly putting on a show for you, have been since second year," he admits with a little chuckle, making you laugh.

You actually end up sitting and talking for the majority of the night, reminiscing about previous pranks you'd all pulled and memories together over the years as you sip on stolen beer. You were both lay on the blanket, your head on his chest as you looked up towards the stars, feeling at peace.

"You're so beautiful," Fred says suddenly, making you turn to face him. Instead of a teasing smirk that you'd expected, he actually looks a little bashful with a smile tugging at his lips. You blush at the sudden intimacy and lean up to kiss him. The kiss starts off slowly and playfully but in no time you are beginning to rut against each other, hands wandering and little breathless gasps falling between your lips in between the passionate kisses.

Something changes in you immediately like a switch had been flicked and you needed to feel him on you, in you, however you could get him, surrendering to the intense desire that Fred always seemed to pull from you.

You began tugging at his sweater, needing to get it off his body to feel him. As he sat up slightly, you immediately began attacking his brown, woven belt to get to what you really wanted.

"What's your rush princess? You need me?" He asks, his hand coming up to grab the side of your face, long fingers tangling into your hair as he feverishly kisses you. You nod and a little whimper falls from your throat without realising as you carry on trying to undress him, the lust you felt becoming a burning need.

Fred pulled off his sweater and T-shirt, leaving him in just his trousers which were quickly pulled down as soon as you'd worked his belt.

"A little unfair don't you think sweetheart?" He smirks, pulling your body to his, your hips meeting as you feel the growing bulge in his underwear against your thigh. He immediately pulls off the sweater and top you're wearing, gasping and growling as he realises that you aren't wearing a bra, your naked breasts spilling out. He immediately latches onto your nipple with his mouth, feasting on the feverish skin as his other hand grabs hold of your neglected breast and toys with the nipple. Your hips chase his at the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation as he sucks and nips at your pebbled nipples.

"Fred," you groan, throwing your head back as he sucks little lovebites into the side of your breast, never neglecting the nipple as his tongue switches back and forth, devouring your aching breasts.

"That's it princess, tell me who makes you feel this good," Fred smirks, pushing your breasts together to pay attention to them both. "Such perfect tits," he mumbles as he dives right back in.

Your hands begin to wander on his body, running down his smooth abdomen until you reach the little fuzz of his happy trail and the waistband of his boxers. You slip your hand into his underwear and immediately reach for his big, swollen length earning a loud growl from Fred as you wrap your hand around him. He breaks apart from your breast just for a second to pull down his underwear, exposing his perfect cock and balls to you, allowing you to toy with him without restriction.

You slowly begin to move your hand on his cock, tugging and gliding gently just how he likes, causing a broken moan of your name to fall from his lips. He bends his neck to reach down and kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as it wrestles with your own, the sensual glide making you squeeze your legs together to relieve some tension. Fred misses nothing and immediately moves his hands to your jeans to tug them off. You reluctantly let go of his length to let him pull off your jeans and panties in one go. He then pulls off his boxers the rest of the way and slings them away, leaving you both completely naked and exposed.

A single moment passes as you look at each other, your eyes wandering all over his perfect body, really trying to commit it to memory as you look at him with sheer adoration.

He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, smirking against them as his hand begins to trail up your thigh with teasingly delicate touches which only fuel the fire within you further.

His hand meets your wet folds as his fingers slip beneath them, earning a groan from him as he discovers just how wet you are.

"Is all of this for me princess?" He smirks.

You nod, desperately trying to buck your hips so he'll touch you more, chest heaving already at the sensation.

"Have you been thinking about this sweetheart? About how my big cock is going to stretch you out? Filling you up just right."

"Fuck, Fred yes!" You moan as his long, talented fingers slip inside you, curling up to hit that special spot that makes you keen.

"There it is princess, fuck you're so hot, can't wait to get my cock in you," he says as he leans back down, attacking your breasts once again as he works his fingers in and out of you. You immediately reach for his cock and begin pumping him, making deliciously lewd noises fall from his mouth.

"Come here sweetheart," he suddenly says pulling away, gesturing for you to sit up. He moves you and positions you into a similar fashion to what you'd done that afternoon but instead of being on top of him, you are laid on the blanket in opposite directions whilst facing each other.

His cock is right in front of your face, flushed pink and leaking precum already, just begging to be sucked. Fred parts your legs with his big hands and moves to rest his head on your thigh, wrapping the other one over his shoulder as he kisses your pussy lips, teasing you. You buck your hips, trying to get more than just butterfly kisses and he immediately reaches up to spank your ass, causing you to let out a gasping moan.

His hand comes up to spread your little lips and he begins giving little kisses to your sensitive clit, swirling his tongue teasingly around the exposed nub as you gasp.

You can't hold back any longer and grab hold of his cock at the base, squeezing gently before wrapping your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue devilishly around the fat head, licking up all the little beads of precum. Fred immediately moans out your name and begins feasting on your cunt perfectly, both of you trying your hardest to please the other. Your paces are slow and unhurried, trying to tease and please the other to give the most pleasure you can.

You can feel your orgasm building as your hips undulate over his face. He moans, sensing your impending release and strokes your thighs as he begins wildly sucking on your clit, tugging gently and licking over the spot repeatedly as his pace increases, keeping perfect rhythm until you cum.

You have to pull off his cock as a loud moan erupts from you, your body completely at the mercy of his as your climax takes over, the white hot flames burning you from the inside out as you shout if his name.

"Fucking hell princess," he gasps, stroking your thighs as you come down from your high, a blissful smile plastered on your face. "So hot when you cum."

Fred leans up and moves to lie beside you again, smiling and kissing you as he sees your little blissful, fucked out smile and heavy eyelids.

"Want you Freddie, please," you moan, reaching for his cock again.

"One time not enough sweetheart? Or do you need my big cock?"

"Need it Freddie, please," you beg, completely overwhelmed by the emptiness you felt, needing to be filled by him.

"I've got you sweetheart," he cooes, pulling you closer to him so that your bodies are directly facing each other. He kissed you passionately, hands wandering as they slip down to your ass again. He squeezes and massages the skin of your ass before reaching down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip. You gasp at the sudden feel of his heavy length pressed against your pussy, just begging for entry.

You reach down and hold his cock steady at the base before rolling your hips just right so that he sinks into your wet heat, both of you gasping and moaning in sync as the bliss of him stretching you out.

"Oh princess, so tight for me," he gasps, thrusting deeper inside of you until every inch of him was buried inside, making you breathless. "Oh you feel perfect princess, so fucking good."

He begins to thrust in and out and you have to hold back your loud moans which you're sure could be heard all the way back at Hogwarts.

You begin to roll your hips in time with his thrusts and you both immediately cry out at the sensation as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hands come up to grab at your ass, guiding your movements, helping you to roll your ass back and forth as he fucks you deep.

"Fuck Freddie, so good, you're so deep," you moan out as the angle of his cock presses hard against your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

"Princess, y/n," he moans, "not gonna last, you feel so fucking good."

"Cum Freddie, please, want you to cum inside me!"

He begins brutally thrusting into you, abandoning your hip movements as his hands dig deliciously into the skin as he grips you hard. His groans and moans mix with yours as he sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with abandon as he nears his end. He suddenly grips you bruisingly hard and slams your hips down onto him one last time, holding your body tight to him as he buries himself as deep as he can. His face scrunches up deliciously as he cums, the blistering hot cum shooting deep into you as his hands keep you firmly in place as your walls clench around him, another orgasm surprising you and taking over your senses.

As the climax slowly begins to wear off, Fred's grip loosens and he slowly rubs the skin where his hands have been to soothe it. He looks up at you with a wide smile and leans down to press a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips as your hands run over his chest.

"Didn't even need the fireworks," he quips as he leans his forehead on yours. You laugh, causing your muscles to contract around him where he's still inside you and you hear him let out a little gasp of over sensitivity. He slowly pulls out, limp cock now resting between you in his thigh as you both take a few moments to catch your breath before untangling yourselves .

"You never needed fireworks to get me into bed... or the ground I guess," you laugh, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. He smiles, watching you dress with a tenderness that made butterflies spread within you.

"You know, it would be a shame to waste these," he says, sitting up and fiddling with the magical fireworks.

"Alright big boy, clothes on first though," you laugh, chucking his T-shirt towards him. You were surprisingly warm and so opted not to wear the sweater, staying in a T-shirt and your jeans as Fred quickly dressed and started preparing the whizz bangs.

You couldn't help but watch him as he moved with proficiently, seeing him in his element of causing mischief as he lined up the whizzbangs.

Moments later, the enchanted fireworks erupted in the sky with a resounding bang, illuminating the entire sky with a prism of colour. One of the particular fireworks turned into a dragon midair and began circling around the rest of the explosions in the most spectacular sight you'd ever seen.

You sneaked a look at Fred's face seeing him smiling in utter delight which made you feel so proud of him and George at their incredible inventions, forever thankful that you could always get a firsthand show.

When the ash settled, the familiar scent of gunpowder and settling smoke overwhelmed your senses and took you back to the potions classroom, smelling the Amortentia. The scent was so unmistakable, like the smell of an extinguished candle with a little more dry smokiness and a lingering musky that was entirely Weasley's wizzbangs.

"Y/n?" Fred asks, bringing your attention back to him. You realised that whilst you had been spaced out, he'd tied away the leftovers from the fireworks and was now lay back on his elbows with his long legs crossed at the ankle, watching you. "Where did you go pretty girl?"

"Nowhere important," you smiled, lying down with him as you looked back at the Burrow, seeing a couple of lights still on throughout the house. A sense of dread suddenly overwhelmed you. "No one can see us right?"

He laughed and shook his head, "only window that looks out back here is mine and George's," he explains with a smirk, "think he was watching?"

"Fred!" You laughed, hitting his chest at the thought.

"Think he was taking notes on how to please a woman?" He laughs and you nudge him again, throwing him off balance of his elbows, forcing him down. "You didn't argue it, he really that bad?"

"Merlin no, just didn't think you'd want to know all the details about how your twin brother pleases me and how he likes when I-"

""Alright I get the point," he says quickly, pulling a disgusted face at the idea. You had to chuckle as you settled back onto the blanket, sprawling your legs back as you looked up at the stars.

You sneaked a glance over at Fred who was doing the same as you with his eyes closed as he relaxed and thought back to all the times you'd tried to sneak glances at him over the years without him noticing. It was one of those moments when you realised how incredibly lucky you were to have not only Fred but George too, for however long you could have them.

The whizzbang smoke had brought back memories of the Amortentia incident and had stirred something up inside you which was eating away at your happiness, never truly knowing who it was you desired more.

When you and Fred were alone together, it was easy. You'd liked him for years, daydreamed and fantasised about him every chance you could, even so much as scribbling his initials in little notebooks in your younger years like any good schoolgirl would. You'd fantasised of your life together if he ever reciprocated your feelings, your wedding, your future children, all a distant but hopeful thought. It should be easy really, he liked you back and for that you were eternally grateful.

You'd been best friends for years, even closer than you and George had been and it was constantly exciting and passionate, like everyday was a new relationship but without all the awkwardness of learning about each other. Your mischievous best friend turned boyfriend, the constant prank master and joker, always the ringleader; he kept you on your toes at all times, bringing joy and laughter to your life like no other. Your relationship was filled with teasing and witty banter that you hope never faded and you were almost certain that you loved him, and had for a long time.

But then there was George. A prankster and joker at heart but with a stronger conscience and greater moral compass. He was sensitive and kind, at-least more often than Fred tended to be and he was comforting, above all else. George made you feel secure and loved. He was the personification of that feeling after a long, stressful day when you finally got home and could relax, putting on your cosiest, comfiest clothes and shutting out the world as you sought comfort. You'd never anticipated falling for him so hard and just like his brother, you were near certain that you were falling in love with him, if you weren’t already fully there. How were you ever going to chose between them?

"Your thoughts are loud," Fred says and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Sorry," you say, turning your attention back to him, "I think I'm just tired."

"Want to go to bed sweetheart?" He asks tenderly, placing his hand on your thigh. You had to admit that going to bed did sound very appealing right now, but you didn't want to cut the cut your little date short.

"Not just yet Freddie," you say, leaning back against him. He hums and extends his arm out to you so that you can lean on it.

"Love when you call me that," he says bashfully, touching the braids on your head as he brushes away the little wisps in your face. You smile up at him and immediately your mind, filled with problems and negative thoughts is calmed and quiet again.

You decide to head in not too long after, throwing everything back into the shopping bag and walked back to the house. You managed to sneak in undetected and immediately head up to the twins' shared bedroom, carefully avoiding the creaking stairs whilst trying not to wake anyone, if they'd been able to sleep through the fireworks at least.

Upon entering the room, you noticed that George had in fact made himself scarce and wouldn't be sleeping here tonight, his pillows gone from the bed. You briefly thought of asking Fred but it was his night with you and you didn't want to bring up any potential conflict. Fred had gone to the toilet and so you took the opportunity to take off your makeup with a wipe and get dressed.

You tossed the jumper in your arms over to the washing hamper and shimmied out of your jeans, replacing them with your sleep shorts. Your T-shirt was switched out to one of Fred's old ones that you kept and you dragged yourself into bed, your tiredness from the night before hitting you like the hogwarts express.

When Fred strolled back into the room, he smiled at seeing you in bed. He tore off his clothes, opting to just sleep in his boxers and climbed into bed behind you. It was strange sleeping without George but you didn't fixate on it, you just hoped that wherever he was, he didn't feel pushed out or alone.

Fred's arm immediately falls over your waist, falling just underneath your breasts as he pulls you tightly to him so that his body is directly connected to your back.

"How do you fit so perfectly in my arms?" He whispers into your ear, musing at the near perfect fit of your body in his. It was true; you suspected that his height versus yours had a lot to do with it but you fit neatly into the plains of his body. Your ass was pressed against his crotch whilst his arm reached perfectly with the curve of your waist, your head slotted right under his head to rest against his chest whilst his arms encased you.

"Maybe you just fit perfectly around me," you smiled into the dark room, feeling him squeeze you tighter at your words.

"Did you have a good time tonight princess?" He asks quietly and you can sense a slight hint of vulnerability in his tone.

"The best Freddie," you answer honestly, "atleast, the fireworks were great." He immediately grabs you and begins tickling your ribs as you fight back, squirming and struggling to hold in your squeals at the horrendous sensation.

"Oh I see how it is, I give you some of my best work and all she remembers is the bloody pyrotechnics," he says dramatically, causing you to roll your eyes.

"It was perfect Fred, every bit," you say quietly, no longer playing around. You twist slightly in his arms to seek out his lips, placing a kiss of sheer gratitude on him.

"This is really nice," Fred says after a few moments of comfortable silence. You hum in agreement, enjoying the peace and the feeling of his arms securely wrapped around you. "One day we'll be able to do this every night," he says, sounding as if he's narrating his thoughts. "When school is over and me and George have opened the shop, you can move in with us and every single night I'll kiss you goodnight and hold you until you fall asleep."

"That sounds perfect," you say with a yawn, feeling as if you could fall asleep within mere seconds.

"And every morning I'll bring you a cup of tea in bed and kiss you before I leave for work," he adds, clearly daydreaming though he sounds increasingly more tired with each word. "You can help me pick out my tie, checking that it matches with my suit. Did I tell you me and George decided we'd wear full suits at the shop? Like real businessmen. Anyway, you'd pick out my tie and straighten it for me before I leave because you know I always leave it wonky."

He tiredly mumbles out more of his dreams and secrets to you in the still, dark room but you don't hear them, having fallen sound asleep, comforted by the sound of his voice as it acts like your own personal lullaby.

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