#and also I was seated for sam and standing for harry and being able to dance and be in the crowd makes SUCH a difference | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wazzupmrstark · 3 months

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instead of you [part sixty-one] || th

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing

word count: 3.4k

That night, you turned Sam’s words over in your mind over and over again. He was wrong, you were convinced. You would love him the same no matter what. No matter if he asked you to end things with Tom or not. You told him as much but he didn’t seem to believe you.

You went back to your room shortly after your talk. You had walked a little more, stopped for dessert at a little shaved ice stand on the beach, and then turned back. Sam showered first, then you, but only after going over your agreement again. What you did with Tom was your business, but it had to be kept a secret. You were still Sam’s girlfriend for the duration of the trip. It was mainly about his parents anyway. Sam hadn’t explicitly told you why having a girlfriend was so important to him but after spending so much time with his family you could guess why.

The next day, everyone piled into the cars and took the forty-minute drive back to Honolulu where you’d landed. Traffic was awful. You knew it took everything in Tom not to honk at the cars in front of him. You could see his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel from the back seat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he cursed as another F-150 cut him off.

You and Sam traded looks but neither of you dared to say anything out loud. Even Harry’s grip on the armrest tightened when Tom swerved into the next lane to speed past the truck.

“We’re not in a rush,” you reminded him. You wanted to touch his arm, reassure him somehow, but you couldn’t.

“Yeah, mum and dad are way behind us now.”

“It’s not about speed,” he muttered. You weren’t really convinced about the speed thing. “It’s about the principle. These assholes shouldn’t be able to get away with driving like maniacs.”

“And what are you doing right now?” Sam asked carefully.

His twin brother turned around in his seat to give him a warning look but to everyone’s surprise, Tom took a deep breath and actually stepped on the brakes. He only slowed down a little bit, less than five mph, but it was better than nothing.

“Sorry, I’m just so used to being late all the time.”

“We know,” Harry joked.

“You should see my girlfriend drive,” your best friend joked.

“Please, I passed my driver’s test on the first try,” you scoffed, making eye contact with Tom in the rearview mirror.

He shook his head at you and mouthed low blow. Next to you, Sam was also shaking his head.

“Yeah, and I want to talk to whoever passed you because there’s no way they weren’t under the influence of something.”

“You’re in the fast lane to never getting a ride from me again,” you muttered.

Sam raised his hands in surrender.

“Apologize,” Harry demanded, cutting in on your behalf.

“Yeah, apologize to me,” you agreed.

Sam sighed and turned his full body toward you, taking both of your hands in his. “I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

Sam turned back toward his brothers. “I think I’m in the clear, guys.”

You smacked the back of his head.

The first stop in Waikiki was the ABC store. There was one on almost every block so you stopped at the first one you saw to buy snacks and drinks for the beach.

“How many musubis do you want?” you asked Tom, who was in charge of alcohol.

“How many are you getting?” he asked back with a grin.

He looked ridiculous with his arms full of beer, smirking at you like that.

“Two,” you said flatly.

“I’ll get two as well.”

You asked the others how many they wanted and raided the mini warmer for them before dumping them at the checkout counter with the rest of what the boys picked out. Dom paid and had the four of you take the bags back to the cars.

The next step was to find parking somewhere on the streets that were within walking distance to the beach. You had to split up from Sam’s parents to do so because there was no way you were going to be able to find two open parking spots on the same road.

Once Tom parked, put money in the meter, and double-checked that the car was locked, the four of you slowly but surely made your way down to the shore where you met up with Nikki and Dom who had already picked out a spot in the sand.

You had never seen a beach so crowded before. There were people everywhere. And all of the available space was being taken up by beach chairs and umbrellas that you had to rent from one of the several stands stationed behind them. Some of the different colored umbrellas even overlapped with each other in an apparent turf war. You could only imagine what conversations between the rival attendants must be like.

The beach was still beautiful, of course. You were in Hawai’i. Any beach here was going to be breathtaking. Waikiki Beach attracted so many tourists because of its beauty. That, and because of the dormant volcano, Diamond Head, sitting just off of the shore in plain sight for everyone to see.

“We rented four chairs,” Dom explained. “We figured not all of us would be sitting over here at once so we wouldn’t need six.”

Sam nodded in understanding.

“Are you going to surf?” you asked.

“Probably,” he answered, looking over to his brothers. “I assume you won’t be?”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

You turned your foot over to look at your toe. Even though all of the sea urchin spines had dissolved, the marks from the injury were still fading. You couldn’t see yourself back on a board any time soon.

You were content to lay out in the sun with your book until Sam wanted to wade in the water.

The boys left to rent surfboards and their parents headed in the opposite direction for a walk along the beach, leaving you alone with all of the stuff. You joked to Nikki and Dom that you would protect it with your life but in reality, you would hand it over if someone so much as looked at you threateningly.

You went to dig your book out from Sam’s backpack but accidentally grabbed his instead. It was the one you had already read and annotated for him. Out of curiosity, you opened to where he left off to see what part he was at and were surprised to see his handwriting scrawled in the margins of the most recent page.

He hadn’t stopped annotating it. Even after everything, even when he was simmering with anger, he was still writing you little notes and responding to the ones you had left. You weren’t supposed to read them before he was done so you quickly closed it back and shoved it into the bag again before retrieving the book that was actually yours.

You took a brief look back up at the water to see how the boys were doing but there were so many surfers that it was hard to pick them out.

“Which one’s yours?”

The voice beside you startled you, making you jump a little before you realized someone had taken the seat next to you.

You weren’t sure where she had come from but a girl who looked to be about your age was perched on one of the chairs the Hollands had reserved. She was pretty, really pretty. Head full of curls and freckles dusted across her cheeks. The tangerine-colored bikini she was wearing looked amazing against her skin and you weren’t sure whether you were more jealous of her or attracted to her.

“Huh?” you asked.

“Which one’s yours?” she repeated.

“Oh.” You squinted at the waves, trying to zero in on Sam. “Uh, blue wetsuit in the group of three off to the side.”

The girl followed your gaze and nodded when she found him. “They just got out there, right?”

“Yeah, we only got here a few minutes ago.” You noticed the camera dangling around and realized she must be out there for someone too. “Um, which one is yours?”

“Long hair, kind of far out. He’s in the big cluster of surfers in the swell.”

Her boyfriend was easy to spot. He was paddling in the direction of an upcoming wave.

“Do you guys come out here often?” you asked.

She nodded, curls bouncing. “David’s lived in Kaneohe like all his life, which is like fifteen minutes from here so it’s super convenient. The North Shore isn’t as crowded but the waves are practically nonexistent in the summer,” she explained. “What about you guys?”

“We’re on vacation.” You were embarrassed to admit that but it wasn’t like you could lie. You didn’t know the island at all. You also didn’t want to risk mentioning that it hadn’t been your choice to come here and offend her if she thought you were implying that her home state was the worst or something.

“Oh, how fun!” she exclaimed. Ok, well that was a positive reaction at least.

“My boyfriend’s family was nice enough to invite me along,” you added, wanting at the very least to establish that it hadn’t been your idea.

“Holy shit, that is nice of them.”

“I know,” you agreed.

“Well, while you’re here you should definitely check out the Pillbox hike. It’s a little brutal if you aren’t used to hiking uphill but the views are totally worth it.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it to him! We have a free day tomorrow so maybe we’ll do that, thank you.”

You would not be going on the hike. You hated hiking and heights but you would still mention it to Sam in case the boys wanted to go.

She smiled but then something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she was standing up to leave.

“Sorry, I promised my boyfriend that I would get some shots of him today and he’ll be pissed if I miss these waves.”

She threw you a wave over her shoulder as she jogged off. You waved back, calling out that it was nice to meet her. You never got her name.

You only managed to get through a couple of pages of your book before another person approached your chairs. This time, it was Sam. He had come up to check on you.

“Make a new friend?” he asked as he shook water out of his hair like a dog.

“Oh yeah, did you see that girl talking to me?”

“Thought she might be trying to put the moves on you.”

“Oh my god, how many times do I have to tell you I’m not Bella Swan? Not everyone who talks to me is into me.”

“She was your type, though.”

“You say that about all girls.”

“Because that’s your type.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “Either way, she wasn’t interested. She has a boyfriend. She was just asking me if I had a partner out there too.”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t think you were cute,” he pointed out.

“You’re so annoying,” you groaned. “I don’t need a wingman anymore.”

He made a face. “That’s right, you’re fucking my brother,” he said, sounding disgusted. You couldn’t blame him.

“Do you have to announce that to the entire beach? I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, remember?”

Sam shrugged and plopped himself down on the chair next to yours. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes. Because they were wet, his curls had taken on a mind of their own. You had witnessed Sam try to tame his hair after a shower on several occasions. It usually ended with him just waiting for it to dry so that he could style it and then making you late to wherever you were supposed to be going.

“Are you going to go back out there?” you asked.

“Probably. Wanna join?”

“Very funny.”

“I was being serious.”

“Oh. Well, no thanks.”

“I figured but I just wanted to make sure.”

“You’re sweet.”

The boys surfed for a couple of hours before coming in to eat the musubis and snacks you bought earlier. Their parents returned around the same time and you all ate together.

Afterward, Sam offered to wade around in the shallow water at the edge of the beach with you.

“You have to get in,” he insisted. “It’ll cool you down.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

You didn’t need any more convincing. You had wanted to get in anyway.

“Harry, Tom, do you want to come with us?” Sam asked.

They looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure.”

The four of you wove through the sea of beach chairs down to the shore where the remnants of bigger waves lapped at the sand. The water was crystal clear, apart from the frothy white foam atop the waves. It fizzled against the hot sand when the waves crashed against the beach, lingering still even when the water subsided.

There were several groups of people in the ocean as well but it was less crowded than the beach. Families with small children were gathered right by the shore, the parents mingling with each other as the kids played with wet sand and beach toys. You wished you could remember what it was like to be that young. To meet a stranger and be best friends in the blink of an eye.

There were less and less people the further out from the shore you got. Fathers teaching older kids how to boogie board, teenagers jumping in the waves as they gossiped with each other.

You weren’t sure how long you spent in the water but before long, Nikki and Dom were waving from the beach to get your attention.

“They’re either saying it’s time to go, or they’re ditching us,” Sam said, squinting and making a ‘what?’ gesture with his shoulders.

“It’s really a fifty-fifty shot,” Harry added.

“I think they want us to come in,” Tom guessed.

Tom was proven right mere seconds later when Dom beckoned you to join them.

The latter half of the day was spent walking around the city. Being the center of tourism on the island meant Waikiki had a lot of shopping. You had never seen so many high-end stores in one place before. You did some window shopping while the Hollands did some shopping shopping. Practically everything in every single shop was out of your price range. You weren’t expecting otherwise but seeing the numbers on the backs of the price tags still hurt your heart.

You could tell the sales associates recognized Tom from the way their eyes would get big when they saw him. They’d lean over and whisper to each other behind his back. Even though he couldn’t hear them you knew he knew it was happening. It made you feel kind of bad for him. Kind of.

You ate dinner at some restaurant attached to the lobby of a hotel. It was on the water, which was nice, but it was just as crowded as the beach had been. The poor servers were so swamped that it took over an hour to get your food. No one minded, of course, but by the time Tom laid his credit card on top of the bill it was dark outside.

“Do you remember where we parked?” Tom asked you as you

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to get there from where we are right now.”

“So you don’t remember where we parked.”

“No, I remember where we parked. But we’ve walked around so much that I don’t know how to get there.”

Tom shook his head at you. “You should always pay attention to where you’re going. It can be dangerous if you don’t know where you are.”

“Why should I? That’s what I have you guys for.”

"What if we weren’t here?”

“There’s a parked car option on my GPS.”

“What if your phone was dead?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“I just want you to be safe!”

You didn’t want to hear any more. “Sam, your brother is being an asshole!”

Your best friend, who had been walking alongside Harry, jogged up to meet you when you called for him.

“What’d he do?”

“I was just trying to-”

“I didn’t ask you,” Sam cut in, glaring at Tom.

“He’s giving me a hard time because I don’t know how to get back to the car from here,” you explained.

“We can just use the GPS app,” Sam said.

You turned to Tom with a smug grin. “See?”

“I can’t believe you told on me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Get used to it,” you hummed.

The last day on Oahu was a free day. You told Sam about the pillbox hike that the girl from the beach had suggested and he woke up early to do it with Harry and Tom. He came back raving about it and showed you a bunch of pictures that made you feel a little sick to your stomach because of how high it looked.

“Thank god I didn’t go with you guys,” you sighed. “I’d be freaking out even if I stayed at the bottom, just thinking about you up there. There aren’t any handrails or guards to keep you from falling-”

“We were fine,” he assured you. “I didn’t even show you the pictures of us on top of the box.”

“You climbed it?”

“I mean, we’d already climbed the mountain. What’s a little concrete box? Everyone else was doing it.”

You held a hand to your heart like a scandalized middle-aged woman. “I don’t think I want to know anything else.”

Sam took one look at you and laughed. “That’s probably for the best.”

You did some pre-packing at the hotel before joining his brothers to do some exploring. Like Sam, they had showered after their hiking expedition. All three of them were sporting still-wet hair that was dripping onto their shirts like kids sitting in church service after their baptism.

You walked around the resort first, checking out all of the pools and hot tubs for later that night. Sam told his parents that he’d cook for the family and he’d dragged Harry and Tom with him to get groceries earlier. Apparently, Tom said he would help grill while Sam made some of the side dishes upstairs. You were interested to see how that would turn out.

You walked by the lagoons next, slipping into the resorts along the shore to scope them out. You were surprised to see that some of them were nicer than the one you were staying at. You assumed the Hollands had chosen whatever the best money could buy was but maybe they were a more financially conscious family than you’d thought.

“This is the Disney hotel,” Tom whispered in your ear as you passed one of the pools. “It’s crazy expensive to stay here for just a night. Like a standard room is over six hundred dollars.”

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. I mean, we probably could have stayed here for free but someone would have to pull a lot of strings and then a handful of people would know exactly where I’m going to be and when and we would have had to hire security... it was just easier to book somewhere else.”

“Isn’t it kind of dangerous to be walking around here in the open then?”

Tom shrugged. “I like to live life on the edge.”

You snorted. “Clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam showed me the pictures from your hike earlier.”

His eyes widened. “He did?”

“Uh huh.”

“Shit.”

“You know, I could point out how hypocritical it is to lecture me about safety one day and then do shit like that the next, but I won’t.”

“You’re the one that told us about the hike!”

You ignored him. “Does your agent know you were climbing mountains this morning?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned closer to your face. “No, and she never will.”

“You seem pretty sure of that...”

“You don’t have her number,” Tom said like he was trying to reassure himself rather than call your bluff.

“Not yet, I don’t.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

He gulped. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about my agent anymore?"

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n

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tinydestinybear · 2 years

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harry’s house

Summary: Blurb where Sam and Farina go for the spotify listening party and are surprised to see Harry.

A/N: thank you to @alag-aasmaan for helping me figure this out! i’m so excited to introduce you to this universe. more details coming out sooon and i promise it’ll all make sense, until then i hope you guys enjoy and please leave feedback! 🤍

If someone had told Farina 3 years back that she’d been invited to the Harry Styles Spotify Listening party, she would have dismissed the thought instantly because she always thought of how much more deserving others would be. Despite her being in his top listeners, she never once thought of her dream coming true.

But now that she sees the mail in her inbox, she’s jumping around her room and screaming with joy of not only being able to attend the listening party but also bring along her partner, Sam. It was hard to believe that she was getting such an opportunity.

She had begun preparing her outfit, getting to every small detail as soon. They’d stay hours on call where she’d constantly stress about everything - whether her outfit was gonna turn out fine, if the event could possibly be cancelled or whether they would ask one of them to return. It feels too long back when it’s only been two weeks.

She thinks of it while they’re travelling to the venue, she thinks of how Sam handled her worries seamlessly. Sam had expressed how glad he felt to see this different, thrilled yet tense side of hers and how he felt comforted that she had expressed all her worries to him and not hid them.

He had stayed up with her all night when she couldn’t sleep the previous day, gently playing with her hair and talking about anything & everything before she fell asleep. She glances down at the cookies and the coffee her boyfriend’s prepared for her especially to help her calm down and can’t help but get a little emotional over it - she never expected this to get so much affection, care and love from someone.

She remembers how she’s been made fun of because her friends and ex partners found her excitement worthless before but to see Sam not only engage in her talks but also share his with hers - she’s crazy to not feel this way.

While they waited in the queue before the venue, they stayed close with Sam’s arms around Farina’s shoulders with her standing in front of him. He’s rubbing his hand on her arms to help the growing anxiety.

It just didn’t feel real right now - to be able to attend this event with her partner and see what the man who has helped change her life for the better through his music has planned for them. There are fans all around conversing with each other but she feels rather comforted to be in her lover’s arms.

They’re greeted by a lady who’s welcoming everyone with a bright smile on their face. She’s grabbing stuff from the table behind before she turns and gives two headphones and a little envelope to them, “Hello beautiful couple! I hope you two have a wonderful time around.”

Sam’s surprised when the lady passes along a tote bag which had an exclusive signed CD, two shirts with the title “harry’s house” and small pots all around them.

Once they enter in, Sam watches Farina’s face light up with joy before she grabs his hand and they go along the wall where everyone’s seems to be painting. Sam’s filling in the paint beside her when he feels the paint on his cheek. She’s laughing while holding her stomach - a sight he’s always cherishing in his mind.

They walked all around - different rooms with various activities while Sam recorded her exploring them. Couches were set up and a few spots were available for people to enjoy being seated on the ground too, bouquets of flowers along with aesthetic pieces of crockery were set on the tables around the vast room. The atmosphere was calm which made everyone feel around like it is a part of their own home.

Safe to say, they also got pictures clicked together as a memory before the title, “Harry’s House Party.” They decided to take up a space in the corner on the ground with Farina sitting on Sam’s left side. Farina’s helping him get rid of the colour on his face with a bright grin on her face.

It was ten minutes later when everyone seemed to have settled down and adjusting their headphones when they suddenly spot a few bodyguards enter in and then Harry enters.

Sam could account for how everyone felt in the room at that instant - their breath held in as they watch him approach the crowd before they’re all screaming with joy from Farina’s whispers, “He’s actually here, Sam!” to her tearing up in his arms of getting this ultimate surprise. He could not imagine a better day for his girlfriend.

Harry stood in front wearing a cardigan, flared jeans along with white sneakers before he waved at everyone and greeted them, “H’ everyone. I wanna take the chance to thank you all for coming here. I’m incredibly excited to share this album I’ve worked on with you all finally today. I’ll be more than happy to hear your thoughts of it at the end. We shall begin soon!”

It was such a treasure seeing him in person that Farina and Sam seemed oblivious to the fact that Harry had taken a spot only a few inches away from them. They’re internally going crazy by this point but the album still awaits.

A few minutes later, the album begun and the room fell silent as everyone felt themselves vibe to the music slowly. It was an absolute connection when Harry sung, “It’s ‘cause I love you babe in every kind of way, just a little taste.” and Sam’s eyes caught Farina’s with grins on their face as they leaned their head on each other, a song that perhaps they could listen to when they feel so in love or when they’re having a quiet dance in the comfort of their kitchen as a dance floor.

The song shifted to Late Night Talking and Farina was reminded of all the times they’ve stayed up late, doing face masks and lying down together - just endless talks. She feels grateful that Sam’s here today and that they get to celebrate and cherish their love more through this album.

It was as if the world around them had disappeared as they seem oblivious to Harry’s eyes on them. He was reminded of you as he watched them with so much love for each other in their eyes, he imagines you by his side while you two look as much in love.

As the songs change, Harry gets closer to where other fans are seated while Sam and Farina are sat in comfortable silence. When Little Freak comes up next, Farina gets a flashback of when her and Sam were watching a movie while she played with his fingers and spotted the small birthmark on his index finger. When he realised, he had hid it until she convinced him that she was in love with the little mark of his existence. Matilda brings along a pain that wells up tears in everyone’s eyes.

When Cinema comes up, Harry’s reminded of you and when he turns to look back at his favourite couple again, he’s very much gushing at this point. He thinks it’s impossible to not fall in love with their bond at first sight. He watches Sam look at Farina with complete adoration and he spots a shadow of himself in him. He very much awaits to talk to them and know their reaction.

When Love Of My Life plays, Sam’s tapping on Farina’s hand to gain her attention before she shifts his headphone slightly to hear him better and he says, “You are. You are the love of my life.” As she listens to the lyrics, it gets to her what he means and she’s quick to leave a kiss on his lips before saying with a soft smile on her face, “Just so you know. You are mine too.”

When the songs came to an end, it feels too overwhelming all of a sudden. Farina feels emotional at how personal this album seems to be. Before long, Sam spots Harry walking towards them and turns Farina to look at the sight too. They’re getting up just in time by when he comes.

“So, what did you think?” Harry asked and Farina can’t help but be a mess in front of her idol, “It’s- It’s beautiful. I feel a personal connect to the album much more than any, this obviously doesn’t mean anything bad to your previous works but this just really- I think it will be one of my favourites for a long time.”

Harry couldn’t help but thank her and Sam for coming along before he dropped another surprise and asked them to open the little envelope, “I would love for you two to attend the upcoming One Night Only. Watch me sing along live to these songs, I’d really appreciate your presence.”

Farina and Sam took a few seconds to thank him before he hugged Sam first and before leaving, he whispered in Farina’s ears, “He’s a keeper. Stay blessed you two.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #sejal files

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uncannysam · 3 months

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Time: The day of Zach's funeral. Content Warnings: mental health tw, depression tw, grief tw

“Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart.” ― José N. Harris

Zach didn't look real. He looked...fake. Like every word of "Teenagers" by MCR had come true. That corporate America had gotten ahold of him and turned him into one of them. And as he lay motionless in, at least, a befitting black casket, Sam couldn't take her eyes off of him waiting and hoping that this was all some joke, and in his own twisted sense of humor, spring up and shout "hello" scaring the piss out of Sam and triggering heart attacks in the old people who sat sobbing in the first two rows waiting for the funeral to start. Why won't you just move already?

With a line of people waiting to see him, Sam reluctantly moved on past the multitudes of flowers that smelled straight up like death, and back towards the middle of the rows of chairs set up. Her parents still not there leaving Sam to feel like the outsider all over again. Just like in elementary school, until Zach had come along and insisted that they become friends. But this time, there was no Zach. It was just Sam. The girl who had been there and seen everything the night he died.

She had almost felt guilty sitting there. Like she shouldn't have been allowed to come. After all, she had cowered and watched as creatures that weren't even supposed to be real drained him dry and listened to him moan and cry out until he physically couldn't anymore. But what seemed to make this day even worse had been the stares and whispers of people who knew Zach, more than Sam had realized, as they took her in from her appearance in the local newspaper and pictures that flashed up on tv screens in the other room set to music Zach didn't even like. If he had been here, present at his own funeral, she was almost 100% positive that he would have been complaining as some random, overly emotional song played in the background. But Sam knew that his parents had done the best they could under the circumstances.

"Hey, Sweetheart. How are you holding up?" The voice caused Sam to jump as she looked up to see Zach's mother standing at the end of the row dressed in black, eyes puffy and a tissue in her hand.

"I'm okay." She flashed a smile at his mom, before returning the obligatory "How are you doing?" Since you know, I got your son killed and all. But as Mrs. Harris spoke, Sam had already unintentionally managed to zone out from both guilt and trying to force back the tears that were all but threatening to pop out. And when her parents finally did show and relieve Mrs. Harris from checking on Sam, the young woman let out a soft, inaudible sigh of relief, just as the music started to play ushering people to their seats.

The rest of the service, both in the chapel and graveside, had been a blur. Mostly from Sam living in denial that any of this could actually be real, but also from the resumed fight of not letting the tears come out. Determined to be strong to show that she was holding up just fine, when, in truth, she wasn't. And when she finally parted ways with everyone, opting to skip the free meal of casserole after casserole, Sam headed back to her now empty apartment aside from Scout. An apartment that was eerily quiet without her best friend playing video games or yelling at her to change the song on the record player, because he was too lazy to do it.

And as she unzipped zippers and undid buttons to escape from the grip of her designated funeral clothes, with each piece dropping to the floor, Sam found herself being able to breathe a little easier, until she couldn't shed anymore clothing. But it took everything within her to put on an oversized t-shirt and some shorts, and to find her way to the couch, "Scout. Come here boy."

With the dog now at her side, Sam pulled down a blanket from the back, but with the wisp of air a familiar scent caught Sam off guard along with the glimpse of the t-shirt she had put on, and between the two and having no more strength left in her, tears began pouring fiercely from her eyes. What had now started, wouldn't stop. All Sam could do was lay on the couch and sob harder than she had since the night of the murder, and as she curled in close to Scout and pulled the blanket up near her neck, the woman let out what she was afraid to show earlier in the day finally realizing that Zach wasn't coming home. That it was really just her now and trying to figure out life on her own.

#solo: stop your tears #wickedswriting

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rkhemlani · 11 months

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June 4th - Tokyo Tower/Kabuki Performance

It's interesting to see how we can create fun out of tough times. Today we were fortunately allowed to sleep in until about 9:30, when we woke up, got ready, took the quiz, and attended class. Around 11:00, we headed to the area of Tokyo Tower, where we immediately split for lunch. Unfortunately, many of the restaurants in that area were closed because it was only 11:30, but after thirty minutes of walking around, we stumbled upon a food truck that sold burgers and fried chicken. The lunch was ok at best, but the area was interesting as we saw many nice cars such as Ferraris, JDM cars, and Aston Martins because of all the car dealerships that were nearby. We headed to Tokyo Tower and that experience was also ok at best because many of us had experienced the taller Tokyo Skytree which offered better views and shopping as well. After touring the observation deck for about ten minutes, Nico, Sam, Vishnu and I walked all the way down and waited at the bottom. While we were there, Nico took pictures and chatted with a Spanish-speaking group, which is rare in Japan, and I entertained the group by flipping my water bottle ten times in a row. I tried to place a wager for Leina to buy me ice cream, but she didn’t unfortunately. We then headed to Ginza, an insane fashion and shopping district that had entire stand-alone designer brand stores from Gucci to Harry Winston to Gap. However, we only spent half an hour here, so we didn’t get to do any damage. At 4:00 pm, we attended a kabuki play at the Ginza theatre. Unfortunately, the play had a run time of four hours and with intermissions, we did not leave that building until 9:00 pm, so our entire afternoon was devoted to that. During the play the seats were extremely tight, the lady in front of us kept shushing us, I couldn’t understand what they were saying because it was in a traditional Japanese dialect, and the ushers had weird rules such as not being able to sit forward in my seat which made the experience uncomfortable. I won’t ramble on about the experience, but if I’m in Ginza, I would stick to the luxury shopping that the district has to offer.

At the top of Tokyo Tower, we were able to see some of the districts that this city has to offer. The reading by Sorensen concerning Urban Planning states that Tokyo is divided into residential, industrial, and commercial zones. We were able to mostly see residential and commercial zones surrounding the tower as there were many housing settlements and businesses and office buildings. On other days, such as taking the train to Odaiba, we were able to see industrial zones that had many warehouses and factories.

Today we experienced an aragoto style of a kabuki play, which is characterized by aggressive pieces that were meant to be dismissive or defiant towards the samurai audience. Aragoto was common in Edo kabuki plays, and Edo was the city prior to Tokyo, so it made sense that the play style we attended followed this rough style. This included lots of loud banging noises, whiny noises and dialogue from the characters, theatrics and stunts from the actors, and off-rhythm music. The article discusses aragoto to be “not just theatrics, but as prayers” but it definitely not seem like that from the things we witnessed today. Most of the play consisted of intense drama scenes with lots of crying and mourning and lots of political spectacles.

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fanficimagery · 3 years

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The Witch’s Companion

Imagine settling down in La Push and instantly hitting it off with a group of locals. You have an instant connection with Sam Uley and though you know exactly what the connection is, you find that you would rather have Sam tell you what it is. Only he has trouble finding a way and you find it rather amusing since you already know all about the supernatural realm. After all, you are a part of it.

Words: 6.3K Author’s Note: This is so bad, but I didn’t wanna trash it. I needed something to post. My apologies.

Since coming into your magic, you've always felt like something was missing. No matter how much you studied or how much progress you made in mastering your abilities, you always felt incomplete. You stayed home long enough to complete your high school education and then worked a few years to earn some cash before deciding to take a chance out in the real world on your own.

Fortunately for you, however, your family knew you'd be leaving the coven and they were more than prepared to send you on your way with funds they had saved up over the years themselves. It was a tearful goodbye, but as soon as you were on the road you felt it in every fiber of your being that you were making the right choice.

You drove for hours on end, not content enough to stop until the moon was high in the sky, and then found the least skeezy motel you could find to stay the night in. Then after paying for the night and putting a sigil of protection on your truck so no one could peek through the windows or break a window without setting off a blaring alarm, you showered and prepared for bed. But as you laid in bed, you tossed and turned as your brain wouldn't shut off. So instead of counting sheep, you got back up and dug out some of your supplies from the bag you kept close to you at all times.

As you sat on the floor with your legs crossed beneath you and a map spread out in front of you, you lit four white candles and placed one on each corner of the map. You took a white crystal on a chain and let it pool in your hand before closing your eyes, then holding the crystal against your chest. With nothing but good intentions and the hope of finding that missing part of you, you rubbed the crystal over your heart before grabbing the chain and letting the crystal hang over the map. And then with your eyes still closed, you twirled the crystal over the map before holding your hand still and letting spirits guide the crystal so you have an inkling of where to drive next.

Minutes passed and when you felt the chain still in your hand, you opened your eyes and found the tip of the crystal pointing towards the North-West portion of the map. So with somewhat of a destination in mind, you packed your belongings and was finally able to fall asleep.

Over the next few days you drove and drove, stopping for bathroom breaks, food and rest when necessary. When you hit the west coast and then started driving north, you were skeptical about where the crystal had really been pointing. But then you get to Forks, Washington and something just feels different. It doesn't feel right, but it's damn near close and you decide to drive around some more.

It isn't until you drive onto the reservation in La Push that it feels like you can properly breathe for the first time ever and you nearly cry tears of relief. But before you can start making plans of settling down, you know there are some things that must be addressed. Because growing up in a coven and learning of every supernatural creature you could, you know La Push is home to the legends of spirit warriors. And behind every legend is truth. So in order to be on good terms with the locals and the elders of the tribe, you know you must ask permission to stay on their lands.

The elders, surprisingly, needed no convincing. They were wary of a witch's presence at first, but after explaining everything to them they seemed to perk up with interest. More than a couple of the elders had twinkling eyes when you spoke of feeling as if a part of you was missing and that you only felt at complete ease once you crossed their borders. They even gave you a few suggestions on available houses in the area and you took your leave after asking them to keep your heritage a secret. You wanted to meet people on your own time and not have anyone seek you out because of what you could do. They completely understood and wished you well.

So a couple weeks later, here you are staring up at your very own two bedroom house. You had some cash put away for this exact occasion, but really it was the elders of La Push who were such a tremendous help in helping you purchase the place. The house itself was practically surrounded by trees and far enough away from any neighbors which granted you all the privacy you needed. So in other words, it was perfect.

You still need furniture and appliances to fill the house, so you've given yourself a time limit of about a week to get everything you need because that's as long as you're willing to stay in a small motel down in Forks. You've already ordered a basic refrigerator and stove, and they're to be delivered in a couple days time. You're still on the lookout for beds and couches, but nothing's caught your eye, so for now you've come to the house prepared with cleaning supplies.

The inside of the house is in pretty great condition, the only thing you really have to do is give it a good dusting, wipe down, and mopping. So after opening up all the windows, you walked around the house with a duster on an extendable arm made sure to dust every corner, nook and cranny of the room. You Windex every glass surface you can before sweeping the floors and then fill up a mop bucket to get started on the floors.

Afterwards, as the floors finish drying, you sit on the porch with a sandwich and Gatorade you had packed into a small ice chest. When you're a little more halfway through, two trucks rumble down the path to your house and you set aside your food in order to stand up and greet them.

Tribal Elder Harry Clearwater is easily recognizable, as is his beautiful wife Sue who is sitting in the passenger seat across from him. The two boys in the truck behind them, however, are new.

Stepping off the porch and meeting your guests halfway, you greet them all with a smile. Sue is the only one to receive a hug whereas Harry offers a handshake. "Hello, Harry. What brings you down here?"

The older man chuckles. "Just wanted to see how you were settling in and introduce you to a few of the young ones."

You finally meet the gazes of the boys behind Harry, taking note of the tribal tattoos on their upper biceps that they're showing off thanks to their sleeveless shirts. Both are wearing cargo shirts and have bare feet which you hardly bat an eye at. "Hello." You wave at them, smiling softly.

"Hey," the slightly shorter of the two smirks, leaning forward and offering his hand, "I'm Paul."

As you grasp his hand, his warmth sends shivers down your spine. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Paul shakes your hand a little longer than normal and you find yourself fighting back a laugh. "Paul, would you let her go? She's clearly not interested." His friend clamps a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back briefly before thrusting his own hand forward. "I'm Jared."

"Hi."

After greeting the two boys, you give a very amused Harry and Sue your attention once more. "So thanks for checking in. I'm just cleaning out the house right now. Getting it ready for deliveries."

"Oh?" Sue perks up. "What did you find?"

"Just a refrigerator and stove for now," you say with a small shrug and sheepish laugh. "I rather have the cabinets and refrigerator stocked with food rather than worry about comfortable bedding. If push comes to shove, I'll happily camp out on an air mattress while I find a decent bed."

Harry chuckles. "I figured you'd be having trouble finding some decent furniture, so I went ahead and went through our storage. Come on," he gestures for you to follow. "Come take a look."

"What?" You stare, wide-eyed, and Sue chuckles before nudging you to follow. You do, with the boys chuckling at your surprise, and you find a wooden bed frame laying in the bed of Harry's truck.

"It's a bit old," Harry then admits, "but it's still very sturdy. It was wasting away in our storage, so I figured it could go to a good home."

"Are- are you sure?"

"Of course," Sue assures you. "We also have a couch and a recliner if you're interested. They're still in really good condition."

"Well yeah! If you say it's in good condition and are willing to get rid of them, I'll happily take them off your hands."

"Excellent. Boys!" Harry catches Jared and Paul's attention. "Go back to my house and have Leah show you to the storage. She'll know what couch and recliner we want to get rid of."

"You got it, Harry."

Jared nods at Harry to let him know he's on it and Paul spares you one last lingering leer which prompts you to laugh and shake your head at him. Then turning to Sue, you ask, "So what do I owe you?"

But Sue is quick to wave you off. "Don't worry about it. Consider this as our house warming present. And," she's quick to cut you off when you open your mouth to retort, "if you feel like you owe us something, then all I ask is that you stop by the health clinic once you're truly settled in. You have a very healing nature about you and I'm sure you'd be a great help to our little community."

Catching her drift, you can't help but chuckle. "Sure thing, Sue."

With nothing else to be said, Harry and Sue help you unload the bed frame and carry it into your house and into the appropriate room. Fortunately Harry has a bag of tools in his truck and instructs you what screws go where since you were more capable of getting down on the floor than he was. Paul and Jared get back right before you finish putting together the frame, so Sue walks out to go instruct them to bring the furniture in.

Afterwards, as you and Harry join everyone in the living room, you smile kindly around at the occupants. "Boys, thanks for bringing the heavy stuff in."

"Don't even worry about it," Jared says. "If Sue and Harry are already this attached, I have a feeling you're good people."

Before Paul can comment, there's a bone chilling howl ripping through the air. It's not too close to the house, but it doesn't stop the boys from awkwardly chuckling afterwards and assuring you the wolves around the reservation are completely harmless. You keep a faint smile in place, nodding along, and force down your amusement at their hasty retreat.

Turning to Sue and Harry, you laugh. "They don't have a subtle bone in their body."

"No they do not," she muses.

A comfortable silence follows the three of you out onto the porch, watching as Paul and Jared drive away in a hurry. Seconds pass before Harry makes it clear they should get going too.

As you follow them to their truck, you say, "Thanks again for the furniture. If I head out now I can probably find a box spring and mattress, and actually sleep in my own house tonight."

Sue smiles. "I'm glad we could be of some help. If you need anything," she then reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small white card, "here's my number. Don't hesitate to call."

You take the card and glance at the number before pocketing it. "I won't. Thank you."

The married couple climb into the truck and as soon as they're settled and the engine rumbles to life, Harry leans out his window. "Don't take too long to let the boys in on your secret. I have a feeling you'll be seeing them more often than not now that two of them know where you live."

"How many are there?"

"Three as of right now," Harry says, "but we're keeping an eye on a few others."

"This pack keeps growing and the vampires will be too scared to step anywhere near La Push."

Harry chuckles. "That's fine by me."

With nothing else to be said and the Clearwater's wanting you to get everything you need before the stores shut down, they bid you farewell and take their leave. Then after making sure you shut all the windows to your house and lock up, you hop in your truck and drive to the city in hopes of getting a box spring and mattress to fit your new bed.

Over the next few days, you get settled in and you've never felt more at peace. Even your magic seems to meshing better than ever within you and your coven back home couldn't have been more happier for you.

You've kept your promise to Sue, mixing concoctions that were easily added into lotions for aching joints and grinding powered mixtures that could be added to water that acted as a mild pain reliever. The reservation's clinic was mostly used by the elderly and you were glad you could offer them relief for their aching bones.

You've also run into Paul and Jared a handful of times, mostly at the grocery store and once when you had gone to the beach for the day. They had been leaving when you were just getting there and Paul had introduced you to his new girlfriend, but the way he couldn't take his eyes off her let you know it was something so much more. Jared kept trying to introduce you to his other friend, but apparently you and this so-called Sam just kept missing each other.

And it isn't until one drizzly day that you finally meet him.

You sleep in a little later than usual, the overcast sky and drizzling rain keeping you in a sleepy state. Then when you feel like you've laid in long enough, you get up and take the warmest shower you can before dressing cozy and curling up on your couch. Nothing on TV seems to catch your attention, so you turn it off and head into your kitchen. You're not particularly hungry, but you find yourself wanting to make something. So opening up your pantry, you find that you have all the ingredients you need to bake to your heart's content.

With your hair twisted up into a bun and the sleeves of your sweater pushed up to your elbows, you're mixing together the second batch of muffins as the first batch cools next to a peach cobbler. You've been in the baking zone, listening to the distant rumbling thunder, that when there's knocking on your front door it startles you into letting loose a yelp.

There's a bark of laughter before you hear the door creaking open and Paul and Jared walk in, both shirtless and in cut-off jean shorts. A third walks in behind them, this one unfamiliar, but you keep your attention on the two you do know.

Huffing, you set aside the bowl and pick up a washcloth to clean off your hands as you walk around the kitchen counter. "If you catch a cold, I am not helping you. Only idiots would run around barefoot in this type of weather we're having right now."

"Oooh, those muffins free game?" Jared asks, completely ignoring your words and walking around you. "I'm starving."

"Do I smell peach cobbler?" Paul then wonders, doing the same as his friend.

"Hey!" The third individual barks, Paul and Jared freezing at his tone. "Manners."

You smirk as the boys shift nervously and then look towards the still unknown man. "Thank you. You, my well mannered friend, are more than welcome to the snacks. I'm Y/N, by the way."

As he meets your gaze, his small smile falters. His eyes seem to subtly widen, his expression goes lax, and there's an instant connection with this man- a sense of warmth and comfort rushing through you. He feels like.. like home.

You blink and then.. oh. You know exactly what this is and while a little part of you is nervous because you hadn't planned to tell anyone other than the tribal elders what you were, you're also kind of excited.

"Sam?" Paul wonders, he and Jared snickering.

The second you break eye contact with him, he seems to come back to himself. Clearing his throat, he nods at you. "Sam. I'm Sam Uley." He then glares at the boys before sheepishly glancing at you once more.

You flash him a small smile. "Nice to finally meet you Sam Uley. Jared doesn't shut up about you."

"Hey!" The muffled response causes you to look at the boy in question and you roll your eyes fondly when you see his cheeks puffed out with the remains of a muffin he'd eaten when you weren't paying attention.

"So what brings you boys over here?" You ask as you walk back into the kitchen, whipping Jared with a small towel and shooing him towards the table.

"Just wanted to see how you were dealing with our weather," Paul says. "Now can I please have some of this cobbler? It smells really good."

"Have you eaten lunch yet? All that sweet is going to ruin your appetite."

Jared snorts as he takes a seat at the table. "Nothing can ruin our appetites. Trust me."

Paul is still eyeing the cobbler so you sigh and wave him on. "Go ahead. I'm sure you can find the plates and utensils." Then looking towards Sam, you smile. "Would you like to take a seat? There are brown sugar muffins, chocolate chip muffins and peach cobbler if you're interested."

"I, uh, yeah." He grins at you. "I'd like that."

Sam, Paul and Jared take over your kitchen table and instead of being annoyed you can't help but feel a bit of fondness for them. You're well aware of what the connection you had with Sam was and you wonder how long it'll take him to come clean to you since it's obvious all three at your table are shifters- Sam obviously being the alpha.

But putting that off for now, you walk into your kitchen and place some muffins in a bowl to take to the table. Jared is all too happy to immediately start digging in and Paul looks absolutely blissed out as he shovels bite after bite of peach cobbler into his mouth. Sam shakes his head at the two of them, but you find it all rather amusing.

Taking a muffin for himself and eating at a leisurely pace, Sam asks, "So how do you know the boys?"

"Sue and Harry introduced us when they brought over my bed," you tell him. Grabbing a few bottled waters from the refrigerator, you walk them over to the table and take a seat yourself. "Between you and me, I think the only reason Harry introduced us was because I'm a female living by myself. He wants me to have people in my corner should something ever happen."

Sam glances between you and the boys, and seeing as you're not offended he allows himself to chuckle. "Yeah. That sounds like Harry. He's good people."

"Oh for sure," you muse. "I kind of have this sense about people. I can tell who's a good and who's a bad one."

"Oh really?" Paul looks up long enough to spot the waters and take one for himself. "What do you sense about us?"

Jared freezes, Sam tenses and Paul smirks as he takes a gulp of his water. You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, and smirk. "Honestly? I get a sense you and Jared are going to be giant pains in my ass."

Jared laughs, but Paul continues to smugly hold your gaze. "And what about Sam?"

Your gaze slides over to Sam who looks equal parts ready to strangle Paul and wondering what your answer is going to be. Eyes twinkling, you say, "That's to be determined."

Now that you'd officially met Sam and he imprinted on you- though you weren't supposed to know that- it seemed like he was everywhere. You run into him at the grocery store, at the local health clinic, and at the beach. And then sometimes all three of them would show up on your porch to check up on you, but mostly to raid your kitchen.

Usually when you run into them you run into all three, so as you're sitting on the beach and just soaking in the peace, you're surprised to see Sam approaching all on his lonesome.

"This seat taken?" He asks, gesturing to the empty half of the blanket you're sitting on.

You grin up at him. "Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually wearing long sleeves and jeans?"

"Ha ha," he deadpans. Toeing off his boots, Sam steps onto your blanket and sits next to you. He grins at you before looking out to the restless ocean. "So what brings you out here on this cool afternoon?"

You shrug. "Nothing really. Just felt like listening to the waves. You?"

"Same. Had some free time so I figured I'd come out here to decompress. Spotting you was just a bonus."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Uley."

Sam chuckles as he softly nudges you with his shoulder. You smile back at him, only to then look back out at the ocean. There's a moment where you and Sam just bask in the stillness of conversation before he's nudging you once more. "So tell me something, Y/N. What brought you out here to La Push?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you," you jokingly admit. "You'll think it's lame."

"No I won't. Come on, tell me."

Glancing at Sam you know you're in trouble at the sight of his small smile and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You keep his gaze, sigh with a fond roll of your eyes, and he chuckles knowing full well you've caved. "Have you ever felt like you didn't belong? That something was missing from your life and, even though you had a pretty good life, you knew there was something out in the world you were destined to find?"

"Not until recently," he replies quietly.

Sam's gaze darts all over your face before darting down to your lips and your heart skips a beat. "I, uh," you pause and awkwardly clear your throat, leaning sideways away from Sam for a moment to clear your head. "I didn't feel complete for a long time," you say. "So after finishing high school and working a few years to save up some cash, I packed all the things I couldn't live without and hopped into my truck. I drove in whatever direction felt right to me and it wasn't until I crossed into La Push territory that it felt like I could breathe properly. It was weird." Well not really now that you know why you were drawn to La Push, but you couldn't exactly tell him that. Not yet.

"That's not lame at all. That's- well I can kind of relate," he says. When you glance at Sam, his faint grin morphs into a smirk. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for here in La Push, Y/N. It seems everyone here has taken a shine to you."

"What can I say," you muse, batting your eyelashes at him, "I'm a very likable person." Sam's phone dings before he can retort and he offers you a sheepish smile as he pulls it out of his pocket. He reads whatever's on his screen and sighs, looking at you with an apology in his eyes. "Go. It's fine. We can always catch up another time. You do, after all, know where I live."

Sam nods and pulls his boots to himself, slipping them on his feet and lacing up. "Do you, uh, maybe want to grab something to eat sometime?"

His stammering and avoidance of your gaze makes you smile. You hum, drawing out your answer before saying, "Like one on one or a group thing?"

He shrugs. "More like a date thing."

"Sam Uley," you chuckle. "Asking me on a date and breaking hearts all across the Rez. Who would've guessed.." When he's finally brave enough to meet your gaze, you smile. "It's a date, Sam. Just let me know when and where."

A date with Sam consisted of dinner at an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles. You had figured it'd be as awkward as first dates normally were, but from the moment he picked you up to the moment he dropped you off at your front porch and warmly pressed a kiss to your cheek, it was as if you and Sam had been doing this for ages. The conversation had flowed easily with quiet laughter here and there, and then you went for a walk around Port Angeles before deciding to call it a night.

The boys, when they took notice of you greeting Sam with a kiss to the cheek, took great pleasure in teasing the two of you. You could tell Sam was wary about it upsetting you, but you merely withheld food from the boys and they were quick to cut it out.

Sam slowly started to show up more often on his own, the casual touches turning into lingering touches, and it wasn't long until those on the Rez realized Sam was no longer on the market. Which was something Sue Clearwater was clearly ecstatic for, but it also led her to constantly nag you into telling Sam your secret since he was clearly struggling with admitting his own.

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, unloading the groceries when Sam pulls up.

Pausing in hauling the bags inside, you wait for Sam. He hops out of his own truck, grinning when he catches sight of you. "Hey, handsome. What are you doing?"

"Missed you." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth and you pout when he pulls away. He chuckles and takes the bags from your arms, grabbing another three from the backseat. "You have a good day?"

"It was decent." You shut the door to your truck, walking side by side with Sam up to your front door. Unlocking it, you push it open and let Sam walk in first. "I visited with Sue for a bit at the clinic and took the patients some goodies. What about you?"

"Decent. Got started on a table and chairs this couple want for their kitchen. Made good progress on it without Jared bugging me and Paul."

You laugh at the slight annoyance in Sam's features when he talks about Jared bugging him, but you know deep down that Sam would do anything for both Jared and Paul. He was just lucky right now since Jared was in his last year of high school and he had school five days out of the week which left Sam and Paul enough time to work without being pestered.

With Sam helping you, all the groceries are put away within a couple of minutes. You sigh with exhaustion, but a smile stays on your face because of the company you have. Sam walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you in against his chest. You sigh again, this time in contentment, and wrap your arms around his waist.

"Wanna take a nap?"

"Oh god," you groan. "Yes please."

Sam chuckles as you drag him to the living room, the sofa big enough to comfortably nap on. You both kick your shoes off and you impatiently wait for Sam to lay down and get comfortable before you lay down in front of him. With your back against his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist so you don't fall off, you close your eyes and listen to Sam's breathing to lull you to sleep.

Minutes pass and then, "Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes fly open. Is this it? Is this when he tells me he's a shifter? "Okay.."

"But I can't tell you until after the bonfire which I'm hoping you'll attend with me tonight."

Oh. "A bonfire sounds nice," you admit. "But whatever you have to tell me isn't bad, is it? Because now I'm going to be worried about it for the rest of the day."

Sam's laughter rumbles from behind you. "Nah. You have nothing to worry about. Get some rest, sweetheart. We deserve it."

- - - - - - - - - -

You and Sam fall asleep longer than you had anticipated, and it takes Paul barging into your house and startling you awake to realize how much time has passed. You remain grumpy and half asleep the entire time Sam tells you about the appropriate clothing for the beach bonfire, which Paul finds absolutely hilarious, and he only shut ups about it when you threaten to make him walk back to the beach since he had apparently walked to your house.

When you get to the beach, Sam takes your hand in his and you smile at him before he leads you to where there's already a roaring fire dancing under the night sky. There's a small group gathered around, but the ones who stick out to you the most are the tribal elders who appear as if they're holding court. Sam sits you on a log close to the fire before asking if you want anything and at your furrowed brow he gestures to the table of food that's dwindling down by the minute.

As you tell Sam you only want a hot drink, he leaves you be and you watch as everyone mingles. From across the fire Harry gives you a nod in greeting and you nod back. Your eyes are drawn to Paul who is wrapped around his girlfriend and you can't help but smile at how smitten he is with her. Jared is tossing chips at some young boy, the two of them running around as another unknown female watches them with fond exasperation.

All too soon Sam is taking a seat next to you, thigh to thigh, as his left arm goes around your shoulders after handing you a steaming cup of hot chocolate. You smile at him before snuggling into his warmth and blowing on your drink. Then when everyone settles down and Harry starts talking, you realize he's telling the legends about the Quileute Spirit Warriors.

You've heard the legends about the spirit warriors and cold ones, but never in such great detail and you're absolutely enthralled.

Afterwards, after being introduced to several more people and Sam dropping you back off at home, he walks you up to the porch. His hands are tucked deep into his pockets and he sighs, and you can just tell something is on his mind.

Grinning, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer to you. "What's wrong? I could hear you thinking on the drive here."

"Nothing." He automatically shakes his head. You raise an eyebrow at him and he exhales quietly. "I just- I'm curious as to what you thought about the bonfire. Only certain people have the special privilege of attending and I-"

"I loved it." You're quick to assure him. 'And I'm honored I was able to sit in."

"You didn't think it was odd? People turning into giant wolves and cold ones draining people."

You shake your head, smiling fondly. "Sam, I love learning about other cultures and their legends. Honestly, I had an amazing time." His shoulders sag in relief and you chuckle. "So do you want to tell me what else is on your mind?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe another time." His hands reach up to cradle your face and he brings you in to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

As the weeks pass, your happiness with Sam starts to dwindle under the pressure of his secret. For some reason, coming out and telling you all that you heard at the bonfire was true was harder than he had imagined. Of course you could have told him your secret to ease him into telling you his, but you were holding back as well.

Sue and Harry have had enough, however, after Sam snaps at Paul and Jared and starts straining the bond between the three of them. So sitting outside of your house, you wait for Sam to show up. If he won't tell you he's alpha of the Quileute pack, then you'll tell him your own secret and see what happens then.

Sam shows up on time and as he exits his truck, you stand up and walk towards the edge of the porch. He smiles in greeting, but you can see the strain behind it and you sigh. Immediately you wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"Come inside with me. I need to show you something."

"Uh oh. Should I be worried?" He says.

"Not at all." You pull back from him, pecking his lips. "But I am worried about how you're going to take it."

Sam's small smile falters, but you don't have any reassuring words for him. Now that it's out in the open about you having a secret too, you can see why Sam held back. It's scary. But it's out there now and there's no way in hell you're going to back out. So grabbing hold of one of Sam's hands, you turn around to lead him inside.

You lead Sam into your bedroom and gesture for him to take a seat on one side of your bed while you sit across from him. With one leg hanging off the side of the bed and your other curled inward, you grab one of your pillows and strip the cover off of it. "Can you rip it open?"

Sam huffs. "What? You want me to rip apart your pillow?"

"Yeah. I just- the feathers," you mutter. "Trust me." He stares at you a moment longer before grabbing your pillow and ripping the top sheet layer of it. You grin and reach in, scooping out a handful of the white and gray feathers. "So, um, please don't hate me."

"Hate you? I can never hate you, Y/N."

"You say that now, but-" Heart pounding, you lay the feathers down down on the bed right in front of your leg. Your hands tremble, but you're quick to shake it out and take a breath. Your smile wobbles as you briefly meet Sam's gaze and then you hold your hands just above the feathers. Concentrating deeply on them, you slowly lift your hands and the feathers slowly follow. You hear Sam sharply inhale as the feathers levitate and then start to twirl in a circular motion. "So, um, I'm a witch," you admit. "And to make things easier for you, I already know the secret you've been struggling to tell me."

"H-How?"

Your hands drop and you finally meet Sam's astonished gaze. "My coven's grimoire. It's filled with all sorts of knowledge of every supernatural creature out there and, though the passage on the spirit warriors of the Quileute tribe wasn't as detailed as what Harry said around the bonfire, it was enough to clue me in on what you, Paul, and Jared were the second I laid eyes on you. Well that and the fact the tribal elders told me when I asked their permission to live on the Rez."

Sam huffs and then does the unexpected. He reaches across your gutted pillow and tugs on your arm until you're crawling over and onto his lap. He holds you tight, chuckling quietly, and shoves his face into the side of your neck. You hesitantly wrap your arms back around him, sighing in relief. "You really should have told me sooner. It's been killing me not telling you about us."

"Yeah, well it's going to get a whole lot easier." He pulls back then, staring at you warily. "I know about the imprint thing too."

Sam's eyes widen. "You do?"

"Yep. Witches don't necessarily have mates, but we do have a sense of things. Since I came into my magic, there had always been a part of me that was searching for something."

"Yeah. Yeah I remember you mentioning that," Sam says.

"Well that something was you." The confession makes you nervously shift in his lap. "Whatever it was, it led me here to La Push. And then I saw you and.. I don't know. You felt like comfort. And home. And I knew-"

Sam cuts you off, grasping your chin between his fingers and facing you towards him. His lips press against yours and it takes a moment for your mind to be brought up to speed as to what's going on. When it does, you gasp and Sam smiles against your lips.

"Don't laugh at me," you mumble. "You caught me off guard."

Sam chuckles, his smile wide and eyes crinkling at the corners. It's one of his more genuine smiles and it feels like this huge weight has been lifted off your chest. "So the alpha and his witch," he muses. "The boys are going to be in for a shock."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the witch and her companion, but the alpha and the witch works too." You lean in and press your lips to his, once, twice, and then one more time. "And can we hold off on telling the boys? I kind of want to shock them with the reveal."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll go at your pace."

"My pace, huh? I like the sound of that."

#sam uley x reader #twilight imagine #sam uley imagine #sam uley #twilight

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

Text

You are my world. you three are my world now - h.h

hello there! I'm back ! Sorry if it tooks so long, i have a lot of work during these holiday. I hope you like this little request. I didn't have time to be proofread (but a big thank you to@petersasteria who is always there to support me!). Remember that my native language is French, so don't be so mean if i made mistakes!

Feel free to like, share, comment and tell me what you think. Send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for my next work!

Word count: 2300 Warning: angst, mention of pregnancy, small mention of blood, mention of placental abruption Pairing : harry holland Request: yes!

ღღღ

You didn't expect to be pregnant with twins at your age. The announcement of your pregnancy had also surprised more than one. Despite her support, Nikki Holland had still given the discourse on the importance of safe sex to her son. But Harry had given a more than mature speech in defense of both of you. He was able to prove to his family and to yours that you were ready and that the decision to continue the pregnancy was not rash.

You were now at the half of your eighth month and nothing could stand in the way of your happiness.

Nothing except maybe this.

Nikki had offered to have lunch with her this afternoon. Despite his work as a photographer, no longer having the company of his four children - since three of them left the family cocoon to live their own life as grown-up adults- weighed heavily on her. You accepted with pleasure. Harry, who was editing his third short film, had left you this morning to go to the edit suite, not without checking that you were okay. So, you joined Nikki at the restaurant. You shine in your long floral maternity dress. In the middle of the meal, you felt a violent contraction.

At almost eight months pregnant, it was no surprise that you could feel twins’ movements. You winced a little at the pain and your mother-in-law put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Are you alright, darling?" she asking, a little bit worried.

"Yeah, yeah. They've just been in great shape for a few days now."

You apologized and went to the bathroom, struggling to cope with the pain of your contractions. When you noticed that your underwear was soaked with blood, your heart rate increased. You suddenly realized that a series of symptoms corresponded to what you had dreaded early in your pregnancy: the nausea that had occurred last night, the violent contractions since this morning and now the blood. Rather alerting signals that suggested a placental abruption. The obstetrician told you that this was a possible risk since you were having a twin pregnancy. You started to cry and panic for several minutes that Nikki ended up knocking on the bathroom door.

"Darling, is everything good in there?" she asked you with her sweet and worried voice.

"Could you come in please" you sobbed.

"Sure, darling. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She stepped carefully into the disabled cabin that you had used for space reasons. Nikki immediately noticed your state of stress. And you just told her everything in strangled sobs. She put a hand behind your back and gave you a very serious look.

"We have to go to the ER. We're going right away."

"I want Harry"

"Don't worry, I'll call him on the way"

And you haven't wasted a minute. Nikki simply left her phone number and table number at the counter before you got into your car. Dom will retrieve Nikki one's later. Holland family been known from the restaurant, the staff were comprehensive about your leaving without paid the bill. When you arrived at the hospital, the nurses greeted you directly and wasted no time either. You were taken to the operating room without being able to get your boyfriend's support.

☙♥❧

Harry arrived within fifteen minutes of receiving the call from his mother. No doubt he would receive a speeding penalty ticket later. He looked like a madman, mortified by worry. He was a bundle of nerves and sarcasm. Her mother was standing by the reception desk, waiting for her. She looked anxious. Tom was there too, trying to contact their father on his phone. When Dom finally picked up, the oldest Holland brother announced the urgency. Harry was shaking with worry.

"What happened mom?"

"I don't really know, baby. We were at the restaurant and the babies kicked. She went to the bathroom and when she didn't come back, I went after her. That's where she asked me to come into the bathroom and you know the rest. I called you straight after that. " Nikki explained, trying to get the stress out of her.

"Oh my god… where is she now?"

"The medical staff took her for surgery. I had to wait here. I couldn't go with her, baby. I’m so sorry."

"Ok ... Ok, I guess I have to wait here. Hope she's okay. God, please make her be alright."

They all made their way to the operating theater hallway for the public to wait for more information. Tom was still on the phone with his father, explaining that it would be better if he stayed at home with Paddy so as not to overcrowd the waiting room. He promised his father that they would all give news as soon as possible. A nurse in a surgical gown entered ten minutes later.

“Who's the father of miss y/l/n's babies?”

“I am. Harry Holland, I’m the father!” he almost screamed and cried at the same time.

“Come with me”

Nikki stood up cautiously and walked over to the nurse. Harry was ready to follow the nurse without giving any further information to his family.

"Excuse me. Can you give us more information on her condition?" Nikki asked

"Sure. We had an emergency caesarean. The babies are fine but there seem to be some complications with the mother. The surgeon is taking care of her."

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry asked hastily.

"She's losing a lot of blood but we're doing our best. Now please follow me." She said to curly one.

☙♥❧

Harry followed her to the nursery. His heart was pounding in mixed emotions. He was so impatient to meet his babies but at the same time he was worried about you. What if you don't survive from the complications? What was to become of him? Would he be able to live without you? Would he be a good father?

His last question vanished when he saw his two little babies in the incubator. Your twins had arrived about fifteen, almost a month earlier than expected, it was normal that they were in an incubator. Harry was going to have to make sure they put on weight. After filling out a few papers, one of the nurses offered to do some skin-to-skin contact with the twins so that they could get to know the three of them. Harry could not but be impatient with this and once prepared he settled into a seat. He was overcome with emotion, understanding how his parents had felt when Sam and him were born. He completely forgets the time, spending several minutes with his sons, one after the other. Harry knew he would place all his love in the two little beings he had taken turns holding in his arms. He was ready to lift mountains, cross the tides. Part of his mind was on you and he truly hoped he could go through life's trials with you. May your family experience all the times they deserve.

The nurse who had brought him to the nursery go up to him with a half-smile. She was sorry to disturb him during this privileged father-son moment.

"Your ... hm ... miss (y/l/n) is in the recovery room. You can go see her now"

Harry's heart burst with relief. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding back. The very new father nodded before placing his son in the nurse's arms so that she could put him back in the incubator. He decided to go find his family who had been waiting too long now. When he entered the waiting room, his mother and brother were still seated. Tom had his elbows on his knees, the phone in his hand. He seemed to be talking to someone. When the actor noticed his brother's presence, he spoke to him.

"Hey mate, Sam's here. Wanna talk to him? What's up? Does y/n's alright? And the twins?"

"Too much question. Give me Sam first!"

But the result was exactly the same. Sam asked the same questions as Tom and Harry winced as he tried to answer consensually.

"Hello to you too, brother. The twins are fine. I swear to God Sam, they look like a mini version of us. Two sons by the way ... y/n is fine, she's in the recovery room, I'm going see her right after that. I wanted to talk to mom and Tom first. "

"Glad to know I'm the last to know." Sam informed sarcastically.

"Hey, I was going to call you but I had to, you know ... go meet my sons. Father's job, it seems."

Sam chuckled behind his phone screen as Harry smirked in a mischievous and petty manner. He ended the call with his twin and turned to his mother and Tom. Nikki made her understand that she had heard, she seemed relieved that you were okay.

"Hey, before I go see y/n ... you want to see your grandsons ... and you, your nephew and godson, asshole."

"Harry, language" said Nikki.

"Of course I want to see my godson, stupid"

"Tom!"

The two brothers smile at each other. Just because one became a father and the other was a movie star, didn't mean they were going to change their ways. It was also their way, both of them, to decompress events. Nikki sighed in annoyance but kept quiet, too happy to meet, even only through a window, her first grandchildren. After a brief walk in front of the nursery, Harry announced that he was going to find you, leaving his family to admire your twins. They seemed so impatient to meet them in person but knew they were going to have to wait while you woke up.

☙♥❧

Harry entered the recovery room and walked over to your bed. You seemed to have already woken up from your artificial sleep. He grabbed your hand to give you the support you needed. A feeling of emptiness was felt in you, your gaze landed on your stomach, flatter than you had seen in recent months. Your eyes widened in panic but the reassuring pressure of Harry's hand drew your attention to him.

"They are fine, my love. They are fine. They are in an incubator in the nursery."

You burst into tears. The emotions being so strong.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I'm sorry ..."

“Hey… hey… you don't have to. You're okay… the twins are okay. And I still love you, I love you more than ever."

"Have you seen them?"

"Yes ... ugly like their father" he joked

You chuckled with a few more tears in your voice. You knew he didn't mean it, but humor was Harry's best way to decompress, and it worked on you too.

"My family is here. You scared the hell out of them. I think Sam was about to order a flight to kick your ass."

You chuckled again. It was so impressive to see the love that reigned in this family. You could never have asked for a better way to build your own family. Harry leaned over to kiss you.

"I love you, y/n. You are my world. you three are my world now"

"I love you more, Harry."

You stayed a few more days before you could get out of the hospital. You had decided to introduce the twins after their own discharge from the hospital. That's why, after almost a month of going back and forth to the nursery, you could finally bring your twins home. So you organized a little visit to Harry's parents.

☙♥❧

The sun was shining on London and you squeezed the doorknob of one of the maxi-cozy, Harry carrying your second son as you opened the door to the Holland family home. You were amazed at the ease with which Harry assumed his role as father. He was doing so well that you fell in love with him again.

"Is there anyone here?" He asked

"We're all in the garden, buddy!" Tom said

"You are obviously in the kitchen, dummy"

"For god's sake, Harry. Come into this fucking garden and let us see the twins!"

You let out a frank laugh as you mentally noted that you were going to have to have a conversation with Harry and his brothers about the vocabulary they were using.

You are therefore entering the garden. You noticed right away that Sam had come all the way from Scotland. Harry must have organized this with him too. You smiled, Nikki rushed over to help you with the change bags and you thanked him.

"So where is my godson?" Tom asked in the same way he did at the FFH premiere when he was looking for Jake Gyllenhal.

"Where's mine?" Sam asked too.

You approached Sam, putting the maxycosy on the table to unbuckle the seat belt and take your son in your arms. Harry was doing the same with your second baby.

"I'm happy to introduce you y/s/n"

"And there's y/s/n(2)." Harry added, so proud.

Everyone raved about the twins as you wipe away a tear, happy and proud. You were so moved by the love that reigned. Harry came to kiss you on the forehead, you closed your eyes, appeased by his gesture. The world could only turn better in his company.

"It's family portrait time!" Nikki said, her camera in her hands. "Tom, please get closer to your brother. Sam, stand next to y / n"

You all followed Nikki's instructions, who couldn't be more than happy to capture this important moment, bringing her work and family life together. You all smiled as you and Harry were in the center of the photo, carrying your twins in your arms. And at that moment, you were sure that your life could not be more beautiful than at this moment.

#harry holland #harry holland blurb #harry holland x reader #harry holland request #harry holland x y/n #holland family x reader

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all-things-fic · 3 years

Text

Rekindled

A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise! Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!

This was originally meant to be for @majorharry‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!

I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.

Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening.

You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear.

This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards.

The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.

He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.

You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”.

That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in.

And you were right.

Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away.

The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.

You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic.

See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.

No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended.

That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.

As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three.

He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.

He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.

His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.

“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene.

“‘S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip.

“Come an’ get it over with, H.”

Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.

Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right?

Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become.

And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table.

Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell.

And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.

Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning.

That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.

You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila.

Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.

It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway.

Bastard.

Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.

The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy.

At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet, and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something.

“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.

Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.

“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”

“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”

“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.”

“God loves a trier and so did you, once.”

He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside.

You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought.

How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat?

“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”

That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening.

“How yer getting ‘ome?”

His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood.

“Was just gonna Uber it back.”

“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”

“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub.

“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”

You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them.

The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable.

“So wha’s another nigh’?”

And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning.

Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night.

Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.

Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you.

With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.

“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels.

Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.

As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up.

Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand.

“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you.

A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits.

He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him.

“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”

You silently nodded.

“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.”

This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.

Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before.

The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.

Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder.

You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm.

He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.

A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession.

“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”

You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still.

Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.”

***

Shoes had been left at the door.

The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them.

You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.

Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off.

And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation.

Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart.

He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap.

You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.

The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew.

His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.

The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to.

“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob.

You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was.

He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.

You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused.

“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”

You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”

“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate.

“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.

Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”

Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own.

Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease.

“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.

Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.

“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.

Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you.

“‘S it okay?”

“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents.

You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective.

From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose.

Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.

You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.

The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.

“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”

You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”

“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.”

***

Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.

“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.

He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.

“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his.

“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”

Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails.

You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”

Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”

The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled.

A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you.

Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat.

The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse.

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless.

“This song always makes me…you know.”

The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there.

The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.

“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.

***

More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now.

The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing.

“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”

“Who didn’t catch yours?”

Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.

“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips.

You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.

Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.

“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”

You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.

“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours.

“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base.

“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.

“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.

“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.

Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite.

Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”

“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage.

Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”

“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”

He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”

You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on.

Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men?

With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in.

He was correct.

“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”

His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man.

You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.

The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.

You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.

Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.

You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition.

“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.

He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?

Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits.

Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place-

Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”

“Neither can you,” you shot back.

“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.”

He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture.

“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.

Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.

“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb.

“Range Rover Sport.”

“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”

You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch.

“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.

He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”

“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.��

“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”

You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.

“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?”

Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.

“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.”

“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.”

And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same.

However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again.

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.”

You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze.

“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”

Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”

“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”

“Had being the operative word-“

“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”

You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.

“Tell him no.”

His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.

No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.

He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.

Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again.

Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.

“Tell him to piss off.”

You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.

Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed.

“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his.

With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease.

“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”

Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”

He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch.

Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”

“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.”

You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”

“No.”

“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed.

His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.

Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh.

“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”

Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”

Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot.

“Where’d you think?”

He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.

Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake.

You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine.

He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs.

With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.

A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”

“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way.

Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration.

“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.

You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much.

As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes.

He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough.

He gulped as he swallowed.

“Please.”

At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently.

Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.”

The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume.

He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.

Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did.

He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen.

“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.

“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.

Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.

“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”

You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand.

Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”

Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.

Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.

You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards.

“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”

You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”

“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“

His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.

“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.

You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.

Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.

From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge.

You weren’t home. You were far from home.

“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin.

You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared.

He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear.

“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”

Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him.

Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.

You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.

“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you.

As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.

With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.

Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too.

Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough.

“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.”

You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.

He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.

Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.

“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?”

His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”

As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach.

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”

“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.”

“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”

You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that.

“I don’t like ‘im.”

“Of course you don’t,” you hummed.

Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”

“That I agree.”

“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.”

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this.

“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you.

With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.

“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.”

He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”

Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry.

“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”

“You would say that.”’

You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.

“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,”

“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.”

You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”

Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you.

“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away.

His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom.

Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.

You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being.

Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale.

Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own.

Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder.

Take your time.

“Come show me this stuff.”

***

There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.

The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.

His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time.

The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was.

However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.

You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.

Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.

Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.

The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item.

Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side.

“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”

“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”

“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.

Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.

A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.

Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.

Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.

Who didn’t love an innuendo?

Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.

Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created.

“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you.

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.

You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra.

It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise.

You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.

“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.

“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”

He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake.

“All Saints was more my thing.”

“That’s because you’re fake indie.”

He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”

You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”

“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”

Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box.

“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?”

Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”

Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.

His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow.

Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.

He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable.

“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.

You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”

A nod was all you could muster.

“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”

You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple.

Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed.

“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”

The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten.

“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”

“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”

“You know ‘m fucking not.”

Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke?

Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did.

Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close.

Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing.

Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.

Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.

His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him.

Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.

“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”

Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.

And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.

His name left your lips again, this time in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.

As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.

This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had.

With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”

His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you.

Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.

Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.

“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.

“Are you?”

It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.

His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.

“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum.

His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.

His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach.

“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was.

Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.

The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself.

Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold.

Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room.

His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features.

“What yer thinking?”

You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.

Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.

Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.

“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed.

He spoke your name in a pretend warning.

“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”

At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision.

You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles.

Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe.

Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.

“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question.

“No?”

A small shake of his head.

“The girl.”

Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him.

“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.

With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”

You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.

His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.

There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him.

Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more.

Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face.

Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it.

As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back.

Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch.

“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?”

Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.”

There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.

Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.”

Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.

Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing.

“‘S this okay?”

His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest.

His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher.

“‘S it nice.”

Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched.

With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression.

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him.

Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it.

“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”

Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness.

“Okay wi’this?”

Another nod.

The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled.

“Tell me if it’s changed.”

And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him.

You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit.

Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.

His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite.

“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state.

Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him.

A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course.

“Hear tha’?”

So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly.

“Nice an’ wet.”

The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers.

You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself.

Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat.

He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire.

“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”

And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets.

These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced.

Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another.

Eyes on your face, he couldn’t quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours.

The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more.

He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.

And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?

While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side.

“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.”

“No?”

His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression.

Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”

Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom.

His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue.

Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your feet to try to push his underwear down.

Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.

“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.

And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.

A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock.

Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them.

You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips.

Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material.

Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin.

You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region.

Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.

“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability.

Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail.

You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth.

The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed.

Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.

“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.

His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.

“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”

You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.

Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly.

With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock.

“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.

He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.

Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice.

“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.

So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips.

He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.

His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”

“On top.”

“Me?”

Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other.

The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.

“Do I need one?”

And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you.

Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position.

He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks.

“Planning on staying over?”

Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already?

His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be.

“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words.

“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.

“Gonna let me have you all night.”

Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side.

“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”

A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck.

“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.

Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.

“‘S tight.”

He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry.

“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.

Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to.

He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar.

He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it.

He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”

He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.

Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough.

Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him?

Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.

“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.

Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside.

“You make me feel good.”

You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man.

He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him.

“No one gets it like this.”

Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale.

You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky.

Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion.

“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that.

Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.

The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his.

“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more.

This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.”

Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.

His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident.

“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”

He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.

He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick.

When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern.

“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you.

He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.

With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.

Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.

Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.

Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.

Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you.

“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“

You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant.

Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.

“Gonna- oh.”

This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.

You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.

Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria.

With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.

“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”

***

Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.

It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming.

You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits.

Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.

A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile.

A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand.

“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rekindled fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry fic #Harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

i loved your blurb the other day . i have a request off it if you could do one more domesticated about the little things tom does in a relationship?

Ooooh I loved loved loved this request!! In my head he is a complete romantic sap at heart <333 this is a lot more wordy that I normally write and bit concerned it is a shitter - feedback would be well appreciate, if you have any opinion on which crappy writing style I do less badly :///

Summary: the boring and domesticated day to day life with Tom

warnings: look really close an a bit of implied smut, but otherwise sickeningly nice stuff I think ahah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Given his rather unique position and place in the world - your relationship with Tom was also very much not typical. By no means did that mean worse though - Tom meant the world to you; as you did him. Yes, at times it was tough - the distance, the tightly scheduled face times because of the time difference. But every time you saw his crinkly smile, it was almost set in stone everything was worth it. He was, most definitely, worth it.

Especially as he was such a sap. Perhaps because some of the things he did that brought rushes of heat to your cheeks - Tom wasn’t even aware of. Of course, Tom being Tom, he obviously did the bigger things and spoilt you rotten - which you were never going to complain about - though those weren’t the things that made your heart flutter so inexplicably.

Take yesterday for example. Tom had just got back home from a long filming shoot for SM3 and it was fair to say you’d both been pining over each other enormously. Once he was back though, none of that mattered. The pair of you had spent almost a full 18 hours in bed, before eventually you’d pulled away from the pouty boy, due to your desperate need of a shower. That was too far away from you in Tom’s opinion though- meaning you’d had a shared shower too. Purely for water saving + environmental purposes , or at least, that had been his justification. It was intimate but not sexual, leading to the two of you wrapped in towels in the marble bathroom. Busying yourself with your skincare, you weren’t paying any mind to your boyfriend, who you assumed to be faffing about as usual. That was until you felt a gentle tug on the back of your towel dried hair. Instantly you locked eyes with warm brown ones looking back at you through the slightly fogged up mirror, panning down to see the hair brush in his hand.

“What’re you doing?” You laughed gently, leaning back onto his bare torso, still slightly damp from the humidity lingering in the bathroom air.

“ ‘jus’ brushin your hair, I haven’t got all the lotions and potions to spend hours on.” Cheeky bugger. Sweet but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes - as he watched you roll yours.

“If I phoned Rach and said you weren’t following her-“ Cut off by his lips craning round to meet yours, you decided not to fight it, instead melting into his embrace while turning round - your body still only wrapped in the towel tucked under your arm. After a few moments Tom paused to whisper a shh against your lips, before painfully slowly moving against yours again. God knows, you would’ve stayed in that moment forever if you could however you did also still have moisturiser only half rubbed in on your face, like warpaint. So, you turned back around finishing off in the mirror and very much enjoying the sensation of Tom still hovering behind, ever so gently working the brush through your hair. It took much longer than it should have for you to finish off, mainly because you spent the time watching him in the mirror concentrate, especially the way he pressed his tongue against the inside of his left cheek in concentration.

After the pair of you had finally got ready for the day (at 3 in the afternoon but no one had to know), you’d gone out for a walk with his parents. Naturally you spent the majority of the time gossiping with Nikki slightly ahead of the Dom and Tom - who were no doubt talking about golf or something equally as dull. Tom loved to say that he found how close you and Nikki got as terrifying - really you both knew he only adored you more for it. Family was everything to Tom and given poor Nikki’s immediate surroundings of pure testosterone, when you became integrated into the family it was like a breath of fresh air. And you didn’t smell of boy - which to her was a win.

It was a beautiful early evening and the sun was slowly creeping its way toward the horizon, changing the light from a brilliant white to a more golden hue - basking the four of you and Tess in the glow. You’d all come to a natural halt whilst Tess had gone a bit mental chasing squirrels. It just worked out that the sun was opposite you and though the evening was beautiful, dealing with it head on , in your eyes, was not the most enjoyable. Before you could even reach your arm out to shield yourself from the sun, the light was blocked out, a shadow casting over your forehead.

Now what’s important to note here is Tom is by no means a tall man. He wasn’t a midget but it would be fair to say that all 5 foot 8 of him was ‘below average height’. Not that it let him stop being a sun block for you and you really did try not to giggle as your furrowed brows caught site of his raised heels. This boy was literally standing on his tiptoes to stop the sun getting in your eyes for god sake. He noticed your grin though and as if it was the most normal thing in the world just shrugged his shoulders before engaging back in his parents conversation. You weren’t as quick to recover, honestly having to take a moment to swallow down your glee.

Afterwards, you’d gone straight back the Holland family home as they all wanted to celebrate Tom and Harry’s return- what better way than having Sam the master chef himself cook you all a three course meal? As if choreographed both of you had taken the seats next to each other… but not in a clingy way at all, Paddy was interrogating you on how the hell you’d beaten him at the classic game of mariokart (which you would never let him live down) whilst Tom and Harry were recounting one of their many tales of filming to Nikki. Once the plates of food were served out to you by the esteemed chef, Tom wasted no time in skilfully and subtly piling the greens of vegetables and salad off your plate and onto his. You’d never dream of offending Sam by insulting his cooking, really you did love it - there was just something about rabbit food that you had to put your foot down at. Perhaps it was because it was literal leaves? Things that you used to feed to your pet hamster perhaps? It was a constant source of bickering between you, Tom and Harry- they claimed you’d end up dying because of the lack of leaves in your diet, which you strongly contested. Fruit and some veg was allowed but salad- stay the hell away.

Anyway it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have to face that debate tonight because Tom had you covered. He always had you covered.

Finally, the night rolled round which you were so thankful for, considering even though you’d had an extortionate amount of time in bed last night - not a lot of it had actually been spent asleep. Combine that with the wine you’d been happily sipping on in celebration, it pretty much explained the situation you found yourself in now. Eyes bobbing up and down as the TV drifted in and out of focus, the slow and gentle thud of Tom’s heartbeat lulling you into that floaty place. You didn’t fight the drowsiness because really, nestled between the cushions of the sofa and Tom’s chest, you didn’t want to be anywhere else. Letting your eyes slide shut completely, you took a deep breath in and nuzzled into his chest- barely registering how he lightly chuckled at the action. Tom just took the time to look down at you, pressing the most gently kiss to the crown of your head. Moments like this would never not be his favourite. Don’t get him wrong, he loved your wit and sarcastic charm when you were more conscious… but something about how comfortable you were to be completely vulnerable with him, gave him a purpose. He would never be able to wrap his head around why you’d let him - how he deserved this was beyond him but he was so bloody thankful for it.

Your hand that was splayed on his stomach caught his eye, you still had your bracelet on from the meal and he knew you hated sleeping with any jewellery on. Instinctively then, Tom ever so gently manipulated the clasp and skilfully removed the silver chain - reaching over and placing it on the little coffee table. Having spent 3 months without you within 100 miles of him, Tom was more than willing to wake up with back ache if it meant spending the night on the sofa with you like this. The gentle grasp on your wrist had roused you a little though.

It was always the simple things that made your heart burst - like the bracelet . Or like his little raspy whisper, voice tired and thinking you were asleep. Even if everything else disappeared, it would still be the greatest life if you had Tom there saying this.

“Your home Y/n… you and me forever…

…until u die from not eating ur greens.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tomholland #Tom Holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

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thegirlwhowritesawksh-t · 3 years

Text

la douleur de l'amour - georgenotfound x f!reader

author: @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t me!

word count: 4.7k +

warnings: hella angst, mentions of blood/scabs/injuries. if there’s any you think that you see, please let me know!

a/n: hi y’all :)) first off, to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! and second: this is my submission for @bozowrites writing event! <33 congrats!!

**this is my second fic, and i’m hoping to push more out as i get more comfortable with writing! i’m thinking to maybe make a part two to this but i don't know yet. please let me know what you think! *sending besitos to y’all :))*

Prompt: Why are you crying?

1:15 p.m.

In the corner of a dimly lit studio in front of the barre, (y/n) leans over to her left, counting four beats before resetting and proceeding to stretch over her right side. After months spent choreographing, picking costumes, and endless bandages wrapped around her feet, it has led to the final product: her first piece in her dance company’s annual recital premiering tonight.

All (y/n) could feel was pure energy and pride at what she has created. It’s her baby after all and nothing could ruin the day for her.

Feeling her joints start to loosen up, she runs through a mental list in her head making sure each dancer had their costumes, knew where all the dancers would start and end on stage, as well as remembering her own choreography, seeing as she had an important section to end her piece. After double-checking, (y/n) then begins to travel to the center of the studio, and begins to run over the piece.

Remember the triple pirouette here, before you end with a leap to fourth position. Finishing in the fourth position, she lets out a curse as she accidently stubs her right thumb toe, a small scab already tearing at the edge. Shaking out her pain, she reattempts the move, succeeding with an effortless bow.

“You know, your piece is going to be excellent. Why are you so worried?”, a voice calls out in the quiet studio, with (y/n) yelping and trying to find where the voice came from. Standing against the edge of the doorway stood Liam, her dance partner and best friend. (y/n) begins to chuckle and runs the piece over again.

“Can’t help but make sure it’s perfect. I have drenched all my blood, sweat and tears creating this dance, this- this masterpiece. It is my first, and most certainly not my last choreographing piece at this company. There’s too much riding on this for me.”, she replies.

“Even if so, I’d like to think you’ll be fine. Don’t stress, it’s amazing. Otherwise, how are you feeling?”

“Kind of excited, kind of feeling like I should run away.”, (y/n) replies. Avoiding to answering the question entirely, she begins to run the piece over again. She continues,

“I think regardless, it should be a great night. George is coming to the recital tonight and it’ll be the first time he’ll be seeing this dance.” With George editing and recording videos for the Dream Team, his Twitch channel, and YouTube channels, (y/n)’s barely seen him since the start of the dance season. The only time she’s been able to spend time with him has been going to bed with him - even if it’s been a bit more rare lately - and sometimes, a free day on a weekend with no dance practice or no recording for George.

“So that’s why you are nervous, how cute.”, Liam laughs, with (y/n) leaping over to Liam and swatting their arm lightly.

“He swore that he’d come tonight, and he knows how much time I’ve spent perfecting this. I just can’t imagine tonight going any other way. I made sure to get him a seat right in the front, so he’ll be able to see the whole performance, and me.”, (y/n) smirks. As soon as (y/n) found out she would be choreographing one of the pieces in the recital, she immediately told George her good news. George had told her she deserved it for working her butt off since the start of her being at the dance academy. Making him pinky swear, George swore that he would be there for her first performance with her also starring as a choreographer.

“So focus on that instead of thinking your piece is going to crash and burn! Relax a bit. We only have a bit of time before we start getting ready, so let’s run it over a few more times. And don’t even think about slacking off now, missy, we’ll stretch and go get ready after.” Liam decides, and she nods, thinking it’s probably for the best. Running to her bag, (y/n) sends a quick message to George.

George J: hey, can’t wait to see you tonight! i left your ticket on your nightstand, and remember to dress up slightly, it’s a dance recital after all ;) lub you xo - sent at 1:34 p.m.

Content with her message, she tosses her phone back into her bag, and heads back to run over the piece with Liam once more.

>>>

6:47 p.m.

Sticking the last bobby-pin to her bun, (y/n) glances in the mirror to make sure no mistake is in place. Eyeing her look, she can’t help but smile looking at her dance attire, admiring how her purple leotard and dress matches her eyeshadow. Paired with a dark nude lip, she smirks and turns to check her phone for any messages, hoping that one could be from George.

Out of the nine messages she received, most were from friends and family, wishing her luck on her performance tonight. She replied with a thanks and a heart emoji before finally reading the last message coming from George about two hours ago.

George J: hi darling, i saw the ticket, i am so excited for you! can’t wait for you to take my breath away, as you always do. love you more xo - sent at 4:48 p.m.

Smiling even wider, (y/n) puts her phone on silent, before walking towards the backstage area, passing dancers along the way. Grabbing their hands and wishing them good luck, she arrives at the destination, nerves buzzing as members of the audience start gathering at their seats. Deciding to take a peek, (y/n) rushes to the curtains, peeking her eyes out towards the front rows, trying to spot the pale boy who danced into her heart. First row, seat G for George, she giggles to herself.

“Trying to find your lover? I’m right here!” Liam asks, with (y/n) turning around.

“As much as I’d love that, I’m no Harry Styles, so I don’t think I’m your type…” (y/n) smirks.

“Hm. Where’s George, I want to see him!”

“I’m looking for him right now, Liam. Give me a second.”, (y/n) laughs as she turns back to the audience. Finding his seat, she subtly frowns seeing as he’s not in his seat yet. He’s probably in the bathroom, or still in line to get to his seat, (y/n) tries to explain to herself.

“He’s not here yet, I think he’s in the bathroom or something. But give him time, he’ll be here.” (y/n) mutters as Liam frowns at her.

“He better show up, it’s your night, (y/n).”, they grumble. They start to say more however-

“Places, everyone! Take your places! We’re starting at seven sharp!” the stage manager yells out. He continues,

“We start in five minutes!” Rushing to get off the stage, she sees dancers brush past another wishing them luck. As the ballet dancers start to move into their places for the intro piece, she then walks over to Liam, helping them set up the microphone as they begin to breathe slowly.

“Hey, you got this. It’s just reading off of cue cards and announcing pieces. And then you’ll be set for my piece. You’re going to do great, Liam.”, (y/n) tries to motivate, with Liam smiling shyly at her.

“And your piece is going to kick ass, (y/n). It’s perfection. Just wait until George sees you dance. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s going to fall for you even more.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…” (y/n) laughs. Liam clears their throat a bit before raising the microphone to their lips. (y/n) proceeds to head to the viewing room, where a broadcast of the show would play for other dancers to watch and support their fellow castmates.

Taking a deep breath, Liam starts to speak as (y/n)’s nerves start to palpitate.

“Hello, how are you this evening? And welcome to the 67th Annual Recital for the London Dance Academy! I am your emcee, Liam Barrings, and let me introduce you to the first dance of the night created by Sam Hastings. Here is Invictus!”

>>>

8:51 p.m.

An hour later, seven dances, and many whispered good jobs, it is finally time for (y/n) to step on stage and premiere her masterpiece. Slowly tip-toeing to her first position on stage, she glances at her castmates, thanking them silently in her mind for them to trust her to bring her visions to life. Before the curtains open, she turns to Liam on her right, kneeling down and grabbing her thighs, and they smile back at her.

“Ready for it?”, they smirk. Thinking to herself, she nods and turns back to the front of the curtains waiting for the music to begin. Remember the triple pirouette after Liam grabs you. And try to look like you’re in pain from loving him. It is exquisite pain, right (y/n)? Liam is toxic, yet you still love them. Make it believable. And finally, breathe.

Another emcee, Josh begins to speak.

“And now, I present to you (y/n - y/ln)’s dance. This is her first piece with her own choreography with the London Dance Academy, and tonight, we are the very first group of people to watch her story come to life. Please let me introduce you to (y/n) and her piece, La Douleur Exquise!” the audience claps softly, before the curtains open its wings to reveal the creation.

The background, a stark white, yet the lights casts hues of soft lilacs, with streaks of dark reds splattering across the dancers’ bodies. With a small pause, music begins to sing out of the speakers. Liam and (y/n) begin the piece with a small duet. Following closely behind, a quad of dancers mimicking their moves with childlike innocence.

Liam turns to (y/n), conveying an I love you through their linked hands and they abruptly pull her to their arms, as she looks at them with confusion in her eyes and pulling away. Gliding towards the middle, the quad walks slowly to (y/n), enveloping her with open arms, before having a dance section with (y/n) in the middle as Liam looks on, hellbent on grasping (y/n) once more. Every other beat, (y/n) turns to Liam, feeling lost as if they were missing from her.

As the quad looks away, having their own small solos, (y/n) slips away from the group only to leap back into Liam’s arms with her hands grasping their face as Liam slowly grips her waist. Looking at her with renewed interest, his face morphs into fury as one of the dancers pass by her, softly guiding his fingers from her shoulder down to her inner wrist. An angry duet starts, with Liam and (y/n) clashing against each other, as if saying they hate but love each other at the same time.

(y/n) leaps into Liam’s arms, before slowly sliding herself off him as the quad of dancers, follow closely behind, lifting (y/n) to her feet. Everyone proceeds to move as one, with the quad dancing in the center, whereas Liam paces their way to (y/n), lifting her into the air once again, before they land in a small leap. Conversing with their bodies, Liam guides (y/n)’s hands to their heart, slightly pulling her along. Finally coming to the end of the dance, (y/n) runs to the center of the stage, facing the audience.

Grabbing her left arm is Liam, pulling her to their side, and the quad of dancers are pulling her on her right. The war between the two goes back and forth in a tug-of-war before (y/n) seemingly gives up and slams herself to the ground, as the music fades into silence. The audience erupts into booming claps and cheers, and (y/n) feels herself being pulled up from the ground by Liam as a light blush covers her skin. Glancing up at the audience, she tries to smile despite the stage lights burning into her. I did it, I managed to make a story, my story come to life. Hearing the audience continuing to clap, realization sets in and she finds her eyes wandering over to the front row, seat G for George. Seat empty, her smile falters and her eyes become glassy. Some would think because of her success with her piece. She couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad, maybe it was a little bit of both.

>>>

9:23 p.m.

He’s here, he has to be. He’s probably peeing or waiting for me in the front with flowers, or in the dressing room. He has to be here, I know it, (y/n) mutters to herself, hellbent on her beliefs that George is here. Yet the bitter taste of rejection starts to seep into her bones. Shaking her head a bit and attempting to put on the brightest smile, she starts to rush back to the dressing room, a sinking feeling residing in her stomach with each looming step.

Facing the dressing room door, (y/n) can’t help but hope that maybe George is standing there with a bouquet of flowers and kisses reserved for her. Slowly opening the door, her hopes slip through with her mouth curling as she stares at only her reflection in the mirror. He swore that he’d be here. He swore that he would be here for my first performance, (y/n) softly whispers to herself, tears threatening to fall. Gasping, she finally lets herself breathe as she repeats to herself again and again that he wasn’t here.

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, causing (y/n) to quickly wipe her tears before foolishly yelling out,

“George?”, as the door opens to reveal Liam and the Director himself, Nicholas Anderson.

“(y/n)? It’s us. Where’s George?” Liam asks, a frown settling into his brows.

“Oh, he’s just in the bathroom, he hasn’t been feeling good.” She lies, feeling bile itch her throat. A little white lie shouldn’t hurt anyone, (y/n) thought.

“Hello, (y/n). You looked wonderful out there! Your dance was easily one of the highlights of the night, I couldn’t stop replaying the duet between you and Liam in my head. Your dance truly captured the aspects of a toxic relationship not from one side but from both of point of views. It truly showed exquisite pain, knowing that you would always go back to Liam, but would Liam be there for you?” Nicholas explains, his words smacking (y/n) at full force. Is- is George there for me?, (y/n) thinks to herself. Nicholas continues on,

“I think you are a great addition to our Academy, and tonight truly proved how ready you are to become a full-time member. So how about it? Next season, we’ll be adding you to the roster of choreographers.” Eyes wide, (y/n) nods furiously with a yes and hugs Liam. Nicholas smiles and exits the room, leaving behind two excited dancers jumping around.

“You did it! Now we have to celebrate! Club night, I don’t care. We are going to get plastered! Bring George!” Liam laughs. At the mention of George, her stomach turns as she then realizes George wasn’t here. What sounded like good news turns to rot as she starts thinking of George.

“Let me check my phone, it has been a while in the bathroom, huh?” (y/n) tries to joke, trying hard to not let her voice waver and letting her brain scramble to come up with another small lie. Reaching through her phone, she reads over the texts once again sent from family and friends, finding the conversation between her and George. No new messages, her heart sinks as she slowly starts to open up the rest of her notifications, scrolling to most likely find the purple box that would always stay permanently stuck on her home screen. With bright white letters glaring at her, her heart begins to ebb away feeling a familiar sense of loneliness.

1h, 53 min ago: MINECRAFT MANHUNT W/ THE DREAM TEAM

Relying on her emotions, she turns to face Liam, hoping that her excitement of her promotion would overcome the feeling of abandonment of the man she loved. Plastering a sad smile through watery eyes, she forces out,

“George isn’t feeling well, he’s got an upset stomach. I think it’s the stomach flu going around.” If you can convey pain through dance, you can lie through this as well, (y/n) thought. She continues,

“I don’t know if I should be going out since he’s sick.” (y/n) mutters.

“So we go without him! It’s your celebration, his loss.” Liam rolls their eyes. His loss, my loss - seems like the same.

“I- I don’t know, Liam… I’d want to celebrate with him as well.”

“And I get that, but at least go out with us. You always have tomorrow with him, or later tonight. Do it for tonight, do it because you’re going to be a choreographer next season! At least do it for me and the group. We’ve worked our ass all season and we made your vision come true.” Liam explains. Contemplating with herself, (y/n) resolves with a soft smile and mutters an okay. Pumping their fist in the air, Liam excuses themselves to notify the others of the good news and plans.

Once again facing the mirror, (y/n) repeats with determination to celebrate her night. It’s her night to celebrate with loved ones, even if the one she loved the most isn’t there beside her. So much trying to take your breath away when you weren’t even here, George. Taking a breath, she forces out a shaky laugh and tries to smile. Let’s go celebrate, (y/n).

>>>

1:39 a.m.

Slightly stumbling out of the taxi, (y/n) manages to slowly walk her way up to his doorsteps, phone still showing that George was still streaming. Pausing her hand on the doorknob, she resolves to try to wait until morning to confront him, not trusting herself completely to be okay in front of him. Opening the door softly, she walk in, attempting to not make a sound. With small steps, she closes and locks the door before setting her bags down. That can be cleaned tomorrow, (y/n) thought. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to make herself tea before she goes to bed, most likely not with George until he finishes his stream.

While making her tea, (y/n) thinks of everything that she has worked for in the last few months. Endless changes to her dance, countless small injuries, whether it be a jammed toe/finger, scrapes of blood scattered around her feet from dragging her feet too hard across the floor, everything. Why is it that with her triumph, she is beyond proud yet the idea of George not being there to witness her moment shatters that accomplishment? Mulling it over, she doesn’t notice George bustling down the stairs, finished with his successful 5 hour stream with Dream and Sapnap. Spotting (y/n) making her tea, he slowly approaches her and wraps his arms around her waist, landing a soft kiss to her shoulders.

“Why are you home late, Darling? It’s nearly almost two in the morning.”, George chuckles, as (y/n) freezes in his arms. Softly shaking her head, she tries to side-step out of his arms and brings her tea to the opposite side of the room, wrapping an arm around herself. Clearly, he didn’t remember, (y/n) slowly starts to think and repeat to herself.

“Why do you think I was out, George?” she softly asks, taking a sip of tea to calm her nerves. I guess we’re just going to have to hash it out now.

“I don’t know, but did you see the stream? I beat Dream at the last second and he was this close to defeating the Ender Dragon!”, George starts to explain while laughing, with (y/n) taking a harsh breath in. Pinching in-between her brows, she snaps,

“No, George, I didn’t see the stream because I went out to celebrate.”, she mutters, tears slowly starting to escape.

“(y/n)? Is there something wrong? Why are you crying?“ Turning around, (y/n) tries to look anywhere but him. She settles on looking at the clock, watching as time went by, and her nerves increasing with each second. George starts to say more-

“I needed you tonight. Do you remember what tonight was? To my career? To me?”, (y/n) cuts him off. Standing there without a thought, dread slowly seeps in as George realizes that he missed her performance. He starts to stutter,

“Darling, I- “

“No! No. You do not get to apologize. I needed you and where were you? Sitting on your ass playing Minecraft with Dream and Sapnap! I get that your career is very reliant on you being consistent with your uploads, but you couldn’t have taken a night off? For me? I- ”

“(y/n), it’s not like that at- “

“Don’t- just don’t try to explain or come up with excuses. I just don’t want to hear it George. I spent months working on this, exhausted yet still pushing myself for the damn Academy. You swore that you would be there. I left you the ticket on your nightstand, you even texted me saying that you were excited to come! So imagine me standing on stage, looking at the front row, seat G, and where the hell were you? Not there, George. You were not there. I looked like a fool waiting for you to see me perform and dance. Do you remember Nicholas Anderson?”, (y/n) tries to ask calmly. George only stare at her with defeated eyes as he shakes his head no. Cursing, she heaves out a breath before continuing,

“He’s the director of the Academy, George. He’s offered me a position to be a permanent member and choreographer for the London Dance Academy. So please, let me ask again: where were you? I had to lie to Liam and say that you had an upset stomach and that you couldn’t come out! So, Liam invited me to celebrate with the dancers, to celebrate tonight’s success.”

“(y/n)- (y/n), we can celebrate now. I know- I truly know I messed up, but I can fix it, we can celebrate right now!” George stumbles out, walking towards her to grab her hands. Stepping back, she glares at George, appalled that he truly thinks he could resolve this. Shaking her head harshly, she bites out,

“I don’t want to celebrate with you. I’ve already celebrated with loved ones.” Rolling his eyes, George tries to reason with (y/n).

“Okay, I get it. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. But I’m trying to make this right. I am so sorry, darling, but I want to make it up to you, you know I am sorry.”

“You know, I never ask you to cancel a stream or get off of the stream. I always try to understand for the life of me why the streams have to be long, but I try. I always watch your streams and interact with your fans for your sake. I’ve had to explain countless reasons as to why you never show up to my performances, or why you can’t go out with me with the other dancers. And I am okay with it, don’t get me wrong. I know how much Twitch and YouTube and the Dream Team means to you. But you mean everything to me as well. So forgive me if I wanted to be a little selfish and ask you to support me in one of the biggest performances of my life.”

“I can go to the next one, (y/n). It’s not like it’s the last performance.” George snaps.

“You don’t get it, do you?”, she asks, wiping furiously at her tears, trying to not stutter through her words.

“What is there to get? Clearly I’m trying my hardest to make it up to you.”, he replies.

“I love you. I’m so much in love with you, it hurts. But you don’t get it. I have been there for everything in your career. Your first hundred subscribers, your first million subscribers, when you won the MCC back to back, everything. This was- is the important night of my life, and you didn’t show up. You stuck with Dream and Sapnap and decided to stream instead. This night was important for my career, and you knew! I told you months and weeks in advance. I wanted you to take charge and clear your schedule for today and- and sit in the damn seat that I chose because G stood for George. It was for you.” She sobs out, chest shaking as she tries to collect the words tumbling out of her mouth. With eyes flashing in annoyance, George tries to speak over her tears,

“(y/n)- “

“I created this dance for you! For me and- and for us. Because we believed in each other and had the support for each other. Clearly, it was one-sided and tonight proved that.”

“(y/n), listen to me- ”, George stops himself. Watching (y/n) fall apart, he takes a shaky breath and tries to walk closer to (y/n). However, (y/n) takes more steps back, leaving a distance of hostility and guilt between the two lovers.

“I love you. I love you with all of my heart. And… and I know you love me. But I needed you. Do you even need me?” she asks, the thick silence covering the air.

“Yes! How- how could you even say that, (y/n)?“ George replies just as quick as she finished asking. Looking at him for the first time tonight, she lets out a sob. With cheeks red, hands tugging at his hair, and George frantically looking at her, (y/n) can’t help but cry a little more.

“Because tonight proved otherwise. I wanted a night of you to myself to watch me be pretty and dance, and you didn’t even give up one night for me.”, she says, tugging at her sweater. Looking up, she further goes on to say,

“How stupid would it be if I were to ask to choose between me or the Dream Team? Or- Or your career?”, barking out a bitter laugh as George stares with guilt. As silence meets her ears, (y/n) slowly starts to sober up, eyes slightly widening with shock.

“George…”

“I’d find a way to make it work, I’ve been making it work for us since the beginning!” George snaps.

“George, you know I would never ask that, because I personally think it’s a selfish question. But if I decided to ask seriously, right now. What’s your answer?”

“And I’m telling you, I am making both work. Please believe me, (y/n).”, George says quietly, grasping at whatever opportunities there are left to resolve this potentially fatal matter.

“I can’t tell anymore.”, her voice cracking as fresh tears pool down her cheeks.

“I don’t think I can stay here for a while. At least until I’ve had some time to think.”, she manages to force out.

“(y/n), you can’t be serious. No, we are fixing this now!” George tries to say with an unwavering voice, eyes slowly becoming glassy.

“I can’t look at you George without wanting to cry, and- and scream- yet tell you I love you, even if you don’t deserve my love, especially right now. I need to go- I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a while.”, (y/n) says, choking on her words. Walking backwards, she turns to the door, with George following her and watching her pick up her dance bags. Lying on the ground was a bouquet of flowers, crumpled amongst her heart. Choosing not to pick up the bouquet, she mumbles out,

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Pausing, (y/n) looks up at George for the final time tonight, willing herself to not run back to him, despite how much the desire is growing to do so.

“I love you, George.”, opening the door, George yells out,

“I love- “, the door cutting through his confession, acting as a wall between the two. George tries to reach the door knob, ready to run after the love of his life. Yet… he’s frozen on the spot, with tears finally trickling down his cheeks, and pushing deep breaths out to steady his shaking heart.

Why are you crying, George?

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

∘◦ ღ ◦∘ Harrison Osterfield - Quarantine ∘◦ ღ ◦∘

A/N - I wrote this during the first lockdown that Britain were in. ow we’re in the third, and almost a year later, I’m uploading this onto my Tumblr from my Wattpad. And yes, before everyone says it, I am fully aware that the Holland’s and Haz were isolating in two different houses and haven’t been living together for months, but this makes it more amusing, and as I say, it was written a while ago. I do not know Harrison, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own.

Warnings - cursing, smut, detailed sex, cockwarming, oral, kinky names, mentions of sleeping around... you know the drill by now.

Summary - Quarantine with a bunch of sex deprived twenty-odd year old boys isn’t your idea of fun, especially not when the only one you want refuses to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Taking measures into your own hands is only simple until you get caught.

YOU AREN’T SURE HOW, but in some strange twist of fate, you’ve ended up in self isolation with the Holland’s. But it doesn’t end there, no, not just the Holland’s, but Harrison and Tuwaine too.

You have a bed in the attic, the other side of Harrison’s room, but you’re hardly sleeping in it. Seeing as you’re the only girl among an entire collection of (ahem, horny) and barely adult boys, you were most certainly on their beckon call. You didn’t mind being called to Sam, Harry’s, even Tom’s rooms late at night; you simply wished that you'd be asked to sleep with the one you actually wanted. Harrison.

You and he had been friends as long as you could remember, neighbours from age 4 and friends ever since. Even through uni when you studied a double major and you had zero free time, he was still constant in your life. You’d met Tom and the boys, the twins being closer to your age, and gotten on with them all as well. It just so happened that you ended up on a job with Mr Holland, and that’s what brought all of you closer together with you being in their house often to work on this project it also just so happened that you’d been hanging around with them all when lockdown was announced, leaving you to be in trouble if you drove halfway across London to your own home, so they invited you to stay and had any and all necessary items mailed to you by your roommate. You were only trusted to stay with Harrison after your history together and nothing ever having come of you two, though Mrs Holland did not trust the other boys enough with you and therefore did a bed check every night and every morning to make sure you were alone, though it was always a deceitful check on everyone’s behalf.

You didn’t thank Tom, Sam or Harry post-sex since you’d always have to return to your own cold bed, next to a sleeping Harrison, a sleeping Harrison who wouldn’t dare use you as a booty call like the other three did. It was safe to say that Harrison also had no idea of your truancies since he slept like a light and no one would discuss your actions at the dinner table to save your dignity, and their own necks.

Tonight though, you have other plans. Harrison has some papers to look through and will therefore be sitting at his desk, procrastinating before his computer for hours, only to be left to flick through the contract at an utterly ungodly hour, and he’d proceed to sleep tomorrow, all throughout the day. You were going to help him relax: maybe a massage, a cuddle, a blunt. Or you’d sit on his lap, watch to see whether he’d tense or relax beneath your bare legs, or whether he’d pick up on whose shirt you were to wear. That was the only tell: you’d steal a shirt from each brother to wear as a mark the next day, but you’d simply claim they were more comfortable than your own tight fitting button downs and crop tops. Harrison hadn’t noticed, not yet though as far as you knew, but each brother wore a slight smirk every day that you wore their shirt.

It hurt that Harrison wouldn’t be able to tell with his usual obliviousness, but you’d shower before seeing to him tonight, and wear one of his shirts so that when he got it back it might smell like you, a scent he claimed to enjoy.

As soon as dinner finishes, you leap away from the three boys all vying for your attention.

“I have work to do, and a shower to have. Plus, I’m tired.” You respond to all three on your journey up the stairs, hearing Harrison groan very loudly from the attic, followed by his head hitting the keyboard of his laptop. You smile sadly to yourself, a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement expelling from your body while the water lashes at your skin, soothing any pain or fear you may be feeling. You increase the heat, allowing the steam to fill your pores as you lean your head forwards to keep your hair dry, held in a messy bun.

You imagine his touch all over your bare body, his finger tracing your jaw, but a knock on the door and a yell to hurry up snaps you from your trance, making you turn off the water and wrap a soft towel (that you know to be Harrison’s) around yourself. You scowl at Harry on your way out, in response to which he sticks his tongue out childishly.

You end up mostly dry after taking a longer than usual walk up the steps to the attic, lingering on each one until the balls of your feet become sore. You peek your head around the door, only to see Harrison in a hoodie and boxers, a grimace on his lips while attacking his keyboard with a ferocity that you’ve scarcely seen. His anger causes you to furrow your brows, silently wishing that you succeed in calming him instead of making him feel worse.

You slip into a pair of panties and grab your favourite of his shirts off one of the hangers. You pull out your phone under a guise if he spots you, absentmindedly scrolling through your feed while eyeing Harrison. He slows his typing and begins clicking his mouse at the screen slowly, intently reading the reams of white on his laptop.

It’s time, you tell yourself, standing up from the bed and walking behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, splaying your fingers and digging your thumbs in. Harrison’s body goes lax, his hands falling from the laptop to the desk, laying his hands flat on the wood. He lets out a groan and rolls his head back, falling right onto the pillow of your chest. You continue to rub his shoulders, enjoying the way he’s slowly relaxing under your therapeutic touch, that is until he swats you away with a small, sad smile. You sigh, having none of it, and crawl your hands down to the hem of his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his tone dripping with boredom. “I have this contract to read, you know I do.”

“Exactly.” You reply after thinking for a moment. You want to say the right thing, you want this to go seamlessly, so every word has to be perfect, not to mention every action.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t battle against your bid to remove his hoodie, and obligingly lifts his arms up over his head so that you can pull his jumper off. You toss it to the side and hear something fall to the floor, but that’s somehow the least of your concerns. You reward Harrison with a kiss to the soft, unblemished skin of his neck - but it won’t stay that way, not for much longer.

You thread your fingers into his beautiful brown locks and tug a little, just to let him know that you mean business. His lips part as though intending to let out a groan of some kind, but it doesn’t come, so with disappointment you continue to play with his hair the way you love to. He doesn’t stop you, so that’s something, right?

When he hasn’t given you attention for too long, albeit about five minutes, you walk around in front of him. His eyes are forced to retrain from his screen to where your breasts show in his top. Apparently, going braless in one of his tops has its perks, not talking about your nipples.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs. He pushes his chair out and gestures for you to drape yourself over his legs and lap, which you do more than willingly while wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at the wonderfully soft curls at the nape.

“I know this isn’t ideal, you need to do proper work and be having contact with your girls, but I’ll get you out soon, I know the boys are a lot.”

You simply hum in acknowledgement, adjusting your seat on his bare legs. Skin on skin, electrifying in every sense of the word.

“That is why you’re doing this, right?” He asks, nervously almost, and you instantly feel as though you’re molesting him, until he wraps his strong arms around your back. You could moan at the contact, his muscles tensing all around you, the feel of Harrison and his smell radiating around you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You move your hands to his shoulders and begin to massage again, just from the front this time, a feeble attempt to procrastinate against your goal. Harrison’s gone back to reading his screen, so while he’s still gathering what he’s reading, it’s your only shot.

You twist on his lap until you’re completely straddling him, your forehead pressed to his. The beautiful blue-green of his eyes sends you into a trance, melting your insides. You can swear that you see him nod a little, so you begin to move your hips. You grind and swirl on his lap, undulating your hips in a perfect figure of eight when you feel him harden beneath you.

With your ministrations paused momentarily, you take a sharp intake of breath and say, “This was never about attention because I’ve been stuck with the boys, this is because I want you.”

Harrison’s face instantly melts into an expression of relief, a goofy smile on his (what you hope to be) soft lips.

“I thought you didn’t want me because you were sleeping with the others,” he says, and you shake your head, tears of relief and happiness almost spilling from your eyes. You feel warm and fuzzy despite the guilt, shame and anger bubbling from your truancies with the Holland boys.

“You knew then?”

“How couldn’t I?” He remarks, “you’re all they talk about when there’s no adults and no Paddy in the room. What they did to you, how many times they made you cry out their names, the marks they tried to leave on you until your own dominant side came out. Every conversation I had to excuse myself out of mainly respect from you, because what they said upset me but I just couldn’t say so, but then I just came up here and imagined what you’d be doing to me.” Your heart hitches in your throat, butterflies filling your stomach and travelling into your every limb, making your skin tingle. Your stomach rises in goosebumps, as does the skin of your thighs, and you notice that it’s because Harrison has his hands underneath your (his) shirt, and he’s skimming over your waist and legs, holding you and savouring the feel of your skin beneath him. He kisses your neck, once, twice, and it’s gone.

He turns back to his computer and continues his work, looking over your shoulder and letting his eyes train every tiny black line of script on his screen. Your neediness is at an all time high, one hand resting absently on your hip, just above your bum while his other hand clicks at his keyboard and mouse like it’s second nature. The speed of his fingers makes you even needier, craving for him to be inside you already, so you climb onto his bare thigh and trap it between your own.

You dig your hips down into his leg, grinding and aching for friction, and you already know that you’re dripping onto his skin. The fine hair on his thighs gives a delicious amount of friction - not too much but not too little. As you go further, your mouth parts a little more, allowing you to let out a strangled whimper. Your thigh brushes Harrison’s cock through his boxers, and you feel his hand grip your waist tighter, almost painfully.

Your pussy starts throbbing, aching for more of him, while your hands rake his back, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Your head falls to the crook of Harrison’s neck as you approach your high, moving your hips more fervently and letting out moans is anticipation. You wonder if Harrison is even able to pay attention to his contract anymore with what you’re doing to him, but that thought is set to rest when you’re right on the edge, but both of his hands grip your hips and move you off his thigh, the skin glistening with your essence.

For a minute, you think he’ll be angry, make you clean it up, but instead he just kisses you. His lips catch yours more desperately than you could’ve dreamt, immediately biting down on your lower lip, trapped inside his mouth. You let out the loudest moan you could in the moment, but Harrison finds it heavenly, delving his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss while his hands grip your ass. He pulls away, looking at you with those puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist.

“Sit on my cock? Just ‘til I finish this section, then I’ll take you as hard as you want.”

You look sceptical, and Harrison can tell, you know because he kissed you again and moves his hands from your bum to wrap his arms around your whole body and keep you close to him. His lips pressed against your own is enough convincing, so you move your panties aside and accommodate while Harrison takes his boxers off.

When he does, you’re surprised at how big he is, bigger than any of the lads you’ve been with before. Long and substantial, you want to drool just looking at his dick standing proud against his stomach. Nervously, you slide down on him. His girth stretches your every wall and his tip hits new spots until finally you’re balls deep. He groans and exhales, eyes closed while trying to gather his bearings.

“Fuck.” He says. “Your cunt bottomed out on my cock, keeping me warm and hard, you’re an angel.”

His words drive you crazy, making you moan and involuntarily clench around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, craving to have as much skin to skin contact as is possible. Your head lays on his chest to stay out of his way, and he seems thankful to be able to see the screen but also feel you.

You stay seated on Harrison for no more than ten minutes as he taps away at his keyboard and scrolls through the pages. Occasionally he moves, stimulating you enough for you to gasp or tighten around him, and in those instances he kisses behind your ear.

You listen to his heart, slowing or increasing its speed depending on your movements. The steady heave of his chest moving with his breathing is strangely calming, making you feel closer to him, more stimulated and comforted, something like love.

Suddenly, his laptop slams shut and he thrusts up into you. You yelp a little and snap your head up, nose nudging with his and your lips grazing.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, and you’ve done it on purpose. Were you sleeping with the others to get my attention? Am I better than them already? Bigger?” You whimper, his words building a fire inside you. “You don’t have to answer, love, I can already tell by your body.”

You cling to him even tighter than before as he clears everything off his desk, breaking a pencil pot while he’s at it, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You choose a desk to fuck me on when we have two beds up here, both of which will make a lot less noise?”

He looks downcast and releases a giggle. “Yeah, didn’t think of that.”

“It’s fine,” you say, cupping his jaw and caressing his stubbled cheek, “you can fuck me harder on this and let the boys know who I belong to tonight.”

He places you down beneath him on the desk, still hard inside you, but instead of attacking you again in a ferocious kiss, he looks down at you and marvels in your beauty just for a moment, his scrutiny surprisingly doesn’t phase you, it only makes you feel treasured, so as your eyes follow the movements of his rippling muscles, he smiles faintly and kisses you softly.

“Fuck me Haz,” you whisper, those simple words being all the motivation needed, because he pulls out, leaving you whining at the emptiness of only his twitching tip inside your core, but within seconds he pushes all the way back in.

He feels heavenly, your eyes rolling back into your head and a surprised moan leaving your lips. He smiles down at you before pulling out and thrusting back inside you, setting a steady pace. Every move feels like paradise, every jolt of his hips swindling shockwaves of pleasure through your craving body, having been desperate for him for a good while.

He feels heavenly inside you, his tip grazing that special spot inside you. “Harrison!” You cry, as quietly as you can. He leans down and pulls the neck of your (his) shirt down so that he can get access to your breast, immediately latching his lips onto your nipple, biting at it viciously while pressing his hands onto your spread thighs. You feel yourself approaching an edge, a timed coil curling inside your stomach as his ministrations continue.

He’s so much better than the others - not that they weren’t good, they have a basic idea of what to do with you and how to use you, and they’re decently sized, but they can’t make you feel the way Harrison can.

“I’m close...” you whisper between incoherent murmurs. He’s not too noisy, which may or may not be a blessing paired with the slamming and squeaking of the desk beneath your bodies, it’s mostly just breathy grunts and occasional curses.

“Me too, beautiful.” He dances his forefinger up your thigh and rubs circles around your wetness, allowing you to let go.

The coil within springs open, and you feel your body fall loose, vision blurring with stars in your eyes and core clenching around Harrison - it feels like heaven. Feeling this, he climaxes soon after you and to save from screaming, kisses you in a messy fight of teeth and tongues, half muffling the pornographic moans that would otherwise be bound to spill.

Harrison falls down onto you, chest heaving and breathless, but nonetheless he still places open mouthed kisses to your neck.

“I’ll wait for you to get your breath, shall I?” You tease while running your finger up and down his spine. He chuckles and climbs fully on top of you, cuddling you into his chest. “Well, now I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend yet. Can’t even go for one round without ending up flustered. Lucky that I’ll have you no matter.”

He hums into you, holding you and savouring the silence filled with only your breathing and a few sounds from downstairs, but soon the wood becomes too uncomfortable.

Harrison slips an arm beneath you and carries you across the room to his unmade bed, as opposed to your neatly tucked in one with your entire collection of clothes and makeup on top of the sheets, but his bed is probably comfier since he’s always in it.

“Round two?”

Your heart rate increases, a burning blush rising to the tips of your ears as well as a shy smile snaking its way across your lips, still swollen from Harrison’s attack, not to mention the swollen parts of your skin where he paid a little more attention, leaving marks and memories for days to come.

“I’d like to see you try.” You tease, keeping your cool resolve despite feeling anxious straddling him, his eyes flitting between your chest, eyes and lips, unsure of what to do or how to use his mouth, a definite rarity for someone like him.

He seems desperate, putting his hands on your hips and thirstily jolting his hips upwards - if you’d been a few inches further down, he would’ve been straight back inside you, and maybe that’s what he was hoping for.

“Any hole’s a goal, isn’t that what Tom says?”

He loves it when you tease him, that much you’re learnt over the years. Every girl he’s been with you’ve found a way to tease him about it, anything he says, anything he does, and he loves it since it usually ends in a play fight and him surrendering control of the tv remote to you. This time however, it ends in something far different.

He tugs the shirt up further and pulls you roughly so that your calves are either side of his neck, your once again dripping core hovering above his face and awaiting tongue.

“Only if it’s yours.” He says, his breath sending shockwaves through your body straight from your core.

His tongue deftly finds its way through your folds and inside your tensing cavern, and it feels heavenly. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue laps up all around you, his lips working in tandem while his tongue dances inside you. The moans leaving your mouth are otherworldly noises that you’ve never quite made before, maybe because you’ve never sat on anyone’s face, never mind someone as experienced as Harrison, something that you’re now learning is far from a bad thing.

“Harrison!” You cry when he delves a little deeper. His eyes remain between your own and the way your boobs bounce inside his shirt while you squirm on top of him. Every noise the pair of you make masks the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic, and muffle the sound of knocking on the door.

Harrison’s mouth continues its assault on your needy heat, your one hand weaving into his hair while the other massages your breast through your shirt, bringing stimulation to your nipple and bringing your climax closer and closer...

“Haz, we get that you hate work but you really don’t have to make so much noise- OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

You freeze, your recently shut eyes shooting open and darting over to the door, ajar with Tom standing just over the threshold, staring right at the two of you with a face of horror and disgust. Harrison however, bites down on your sensitive nub in his state of shock, and your second orgasm washes over you in such a state of unexpected euphoria that you lose all your bearings.

You cry out Harrison’s name like a prayer, chanting it while he cleans you up, and it’s not for a solid minute after your climax ends that you realise Tom is still in the room with you, rendered speechless, mouth agape and dumbfounded.

When you clock what’s happening, you grasp Harrison’s duvet and yank it up to cover you both while you climb off Harrison’s face, his lips still glistening with your cum. He seems lost for words, too, blanching more and more with every passing second. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. No one moves, except for Harrison’s cock twitching under the duvet.

“It’s not what it looks like...” you say, your words getting lost in the thick tension of the room, like a rubber band pulled so tightly that it could snap at any given moment.

“Really? Because it looks like Harrison was just eating you out!”

You can’t fault Tom's logic, it is exactly what it looks like, so you just blush and pull the duvet up to your chin while wishing for a black hole to swallow you up.

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Harrison looks though, plump lips and that wonderful glint in his eyes, messy hair and no top.

“Ok, so it’s exactly what it looks like, surprise?” You can’t figure out what to say to him in the current situation, but instantly feel relaxed when Harrison begins to rub his palm up and down your thigh beneath the duvet .

“What- oh, this is why you called?” Sam now makes an appearance, folding his arms and standing next to a resolute Tom. You can’t decipher if he’s angry, amused or something else. “Our plan worked!” He suddenly shouts, and within seconds, Harry arrives beside the pair, a smirk on his lips.

“Really? So shagging Y/N and talking about it in front of me was all a ploy to get us together? And if so, why does Mr Fancy Pants here look so angry?” Harrison asks, and you can feel him willing his boner to wilt while in the presence of the brothers.

“Yes!” Comes paddy’s voice from the doorway, swiftly standing in front of Tom.

You smirk, but Harrison scowls, unable to accommodate this situation within his mind.

“He’s probably shocked because he walked in on you two... you know. But yeah, it was all a plan, sorry by the way.” Harry says, you just wave it off but Harrison’s grip on your leg tightens.

“Don’t be angry, it worked didn’t it?” Sam chimes in, patting Paddy on the back before making his way out.

Tom has to have the last word, you can see it on the settling lines on his forehead, so you brace yourself closer to Haz. “And don’t I bloody know that it worked!”

Maybe the drama was worth it for the laugh out of Tom’s reaction, though Harrison would argue with you there.

#harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #tom holland #tom holland imagine #haz osterfield smut #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield smut #Simon and mark #Tom and haz #holland boys

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groovybaybee · 4 years

Text

Circle

words: 6.6k

(orgy!harry)

I’d had no idea what to expect, no notion as to what the evening may hold for me. All I had were bits and pieces, clues to lead me to a night I would never forget. A string of events which had brought me to that evening.

A brief conversation with a friend, her experience at some new club sketched out vaguely for me, eluding to beautiful men and women and newfound passion ignited within her. My curiosity peaking, I had agreed to allow her to submit my details. She had sensed my hesitance at putting myself out there, assuring me privacy was of the utmost importance, something I later came to appreciate as an NDA was slipped through my letterbox.

I had let the document sit on my desk for a few days, finding myself drawn to it every time my mind wandered from whatever contract I was drafting or reviewing, allowing myself to slip open the manilla envelope and peer inside. Familiar with legal documents, I had assumed I would find errors in the form, legal loopholes one might exploit, however, it was iron-clad. The document covered all grey areas, ensuring that the signor would be well-aware of any legal consequences should they breach any of the terms set out. The letter stated plainly that anyone caught providing explicit details to another party, whether that be a personal acquaintance or the media, of the events bound to transpire, would be duly punished. It emphasised the importance of anonymity within the group of attendees, and ensured safeguarding measures taken on their part to protect the identities of all those involved. At this point I was wondering what I was letting myself get involved with.

At first, I had assumed this would be some kind of nightclub full of high society types looking to partake in meaningless one-night stands without the ramifications of involving someone not in the industry who may be able to sell their story and make a financial gain, thus the need for anonymity. However, after signing and returning the document, trepidation began to set in, wondering what organisation I was getting into bed with. This was more than a night out. This was going to be, as my friend had explained, an experience that I would not want to forget.

Trusting her, I let the mystery of it all excite me, adrenaline spiking when I received an envelope through my door. Inside was a small black business card, embossed with a golden circle on both sides. Alongside the card, was an acceptance letter of sorts, thanking me for my interest and inviting me to attend an event this Saturday. I was informed that a car would come to collect me, driving me to the location of the event and would return me whenever I desired to go home. If I changed my mind at any point until then, I simply had to text ‘OPT-OUT’ to a number at the top of the letter.

I never sent that text. On the contrary, I allowed the excitement to pour through into my everyday life. I bought new lingerie, just a simple sheer black set that hung off my body in a beautiful way. Everything about this ‘club’ exuded exclusivity, and I wanted to blend in no matter what happened.

When Saturday evening finally rolled around, I could barely sit still, nerves and excitement swimming around in my stomach as I sat in the back of the black Lexus I had been provided. The driver had opened the door for me, offering me a polite greeting, before slipping into the front seat and driving us to our destination without another word as I texted my friend, the anticipation growing almost too much to bear. Watching the city pass through the tinted windows, I allowed my mind to slip into thoughts about the clientele I would encounter. I had been ensured that all members signed the exact same form as me, so I assumed they also valued privacy highly. I wondered if they would also be involved in the entertainment industry, admittedly all I did was draw up contracts and aid in negotiations for a record label, but I found myself accompanied by celebrities and notorious figures more often than I ever might have expected, even forming friendships with some of the clients the label represented.

Upon our arrival to the location, I almost asked the driver if he was sure that this was the right place. The building looked like any luxurious apartment complex, no loud music, no drunken patrons stumbling in and out of the building. Nevertheless, I thanked the driver, and made my way indoors. My heels clicking against the marble flooring was the only real sound as I passed through the lobby, making my way into the lift as instructed by the letter, selecting the button for the penthouse.

As the lift rose, I wondered if this was about to be the revelation of some horrific prank. Perhaps when I stepped out on to the top floor, there would be everyone I knew with cameras pointed at me, telling me I had been Punk’d. However, I swiftly reminded myself that the show was no longer airing, and I was being moronic.

Finally, the lift doors opened once again, and I was confronted with a large, white marble foyer, at the centre of which was a woman sat at a desk, another woman behind her. I began the walk towards them, finally hearing some faint music and beginning to relax under the knowledge that I was, probably, in the right place.

“Hello,” the seated woman had said, offering me a polite smile once I reached the desk.

“Hi,” I greeted her and showed her the small, black card I had been instructed to bring along, “I’m not sure I’m in the right place—”

“Oh, you are,” she had replied brightly, taking the card from me, and scribbling something down on the desk. “It’s your first time here, yes?”

“Yes,” I nodded, my voice sounding smaller than I would have liked it to, the formalities throwing me slightly off balance.

“Welcome,” she said, her cheery exterior never faltering for even a second, “Rachel here will take you through,”

The second woman had stepped forward by this point, offering me a genuine smile and gesturing for me to follow her down an adjacent hallway. I did so until we reached a cloakroom of sorts, providing me with a space in which to leave my coat and bag, ensuring that they were safe and would be returned to me upon my departure, explaining briefly that electronic devices were not permitted past this point. I had nod at intervals to show my understanding and complied with her requests. Then, she led me to a set of double doors, ensuring me that I would be well taken care of inside.

“We hope you have a pleasurable evening,” Rachel finished.

I had thanked her and listened to the sounds of her heels diminish as she left me on my own. Taking I deep breath to calm any nerves, I slipped my hand around the door handle and pushed it open. Inside the penthouse apartment was nothing like I had imagined. I was instantly greeted by a young man holding a tray topped with flutes full of champagne. I uttered a small thanks and proceeded through the space.

Whatever I was expecting, it was not what I received. I found myself in the middle of a beautiful living space, with floor-to-ceiling windows and luxurious leather sofas. The space was filled with elegantly dressed individuals, reminding me more of an industry young professionals’ mixer than whatever sex-filled dungeon I had been expected. The atmosphere felt very relaxed, the whole room seeming to laugh and chatter freely. Perhaps this was some sort of speed-dating and I had just severely misread the information I was given.

Taking a few more steps into the room, I made eye-contact with a woman around my age, brunette and beautiful. She had smiled gently at me, before excusing herself from her small group and gliding over to me.

“First time?” she asked, a small smirk playing across her painted lips.

“That obvious?” I replied, earning a genuine chuckle from her which helped put me at ease somewhat.

“I can give you the tour if you like… I’m kind of a regular,” She offered.

I had nodded appreciatively and allowed her to take my hand in hers to lead me around the place. She introduced herself as Samantha, call me Sam, as we ventured through the apartment, smooth beats lining the place. As we walked through, she showed me the ‘main room’, which was really just the living room, where the majority of the guests were mingling, her telling me that it was still fairly early. We delved deeper, heading down the main hallway of the place until we reached a fork and she had me choose left or right. I selected left and she walked me through the next section, showing me more rooms, a few bathrooms situated between bedrooms. Each bedroom seemed to house some of the overspill from the main room. In the first bedroom, a group were sat on the bed, laughing and talking as they sipped at their glasses of champagne. The second bedroom we reached held two women standing in the centre, making out. A little afraid of intruding, I moved to step back into the corridor, but Sam stayed in her spot, sharing a smirk with the room’s inhabitants.

“Just giving a newbie the tour,” Sam had said, earning a wry chuckle from the couple.

“Feel free to circle back round,” said one of the women before turning back to her partner, pushing her hair behind her ear, and returning to their previous position.

“Are you into girls?” Sam asked evenly as she led me back out of the room, focussed more on leading me than the abrupt question.

“Uh, yeah, I think I like a bit of everything,” I mumbled, my head feeling a little scrambled as I tried to comprehend where I was.

Sam continued to lead me down the hallway. It was at this point that I noticed that all of the bedroom doors were propped open, people drifting in an out with ease. A pit of suspicion grew in my stomach as Sam led me further along the corridor. My hurried assumption was beginning to be confirmed when we reached our third bedroom, filled with about ten people scattered across the room, all comfortably watching pornography together on the large-screen television.

“Sam?” I asked, pulling her attention away from the couple fucking on the screen and back towards me. When she prised her eyes from the spectacle, her lids were a little hooded as she eyed me, “Is this an orgy?”

“Not yet,” was all she had said, a grin forming across her plush, red lips.

I had involuntarily taken a step back at her response, shock overwhelming any other sensation. At witnessing my reaction, Sam had followed me and led me back into the corridor and away from the room.

“Obviously, you don’t have to do anything, and you don’t have to stay if this isn’t what you thought you were signing up for,” she said in a calming tone, somehow understanding my surprise to find out that I had wound up at an orgy.

Definitely not speed-dating.

After allowing the information a second to sink into my brain, and a large sip of champagne, the shock began to subside, and curiosity took over. I mean, it was never something I had actively sought out, but had always been a bit of a fantasy, even just to attend and watch.

Seeing the panic leave my body, the smirk I was quickly becoming familiar with returned to Sam’s lips.

“I’m okay,” I told her, letting a small, breathy laugh escape from between my lips.

“Want to go back to the main room? I have some friends you might like,”

I accepted her offer with a nod and let her guide me back through the crowd of people in the biggest part of the property, the number of people having almost doubled since we went exploring. Still, the atmosphere in the room had not changed, everyone still stood talking and laughing as they got to know other people.

Sam guided me to the group of people she had been talking to before she excused herself to speak to me. She introduced me to them, and we fell into conversation easily. Not long after, the majority of the group disappeared to explore the place and make use of the facilities, leaving myself, Sam, and a man a little older than me, James, clean-shaven and also a brunette. He was undoubtedly attractive, standing a full head taller than me and I certainly spotted muscle definition beneath his white dress shirt.

The three of us spoke for a while, conversation lubricated by a glass of champagne or two. After discovering that we had a good rapport, the three of us decided to move somewhere a little quieter, Sam promising me to finish our tour. As we walked down the main corridor of the apartment, we took a right, peering through a few rooms as we passed.

The first room we passed was fairly crowded, people undressing, lips and limbs tangled throughout. Collectively, we agreed to move along, finding the situation more interesting than inviting. We moved away, passing a closed bedroom which James explained meant the individuals wanted a little privacy.

The second room we encountered proved to be far more enticing than the first. In that room two men lay either side of a woman, hands roaming gently across her naked body while they remained fully or partially clothed. While one pressed kisses to her mouth and neck, the other shimmied down the bed, licking and kissing his way up the length of her right leg, from her feet to her thighs he seemed to place hot kisses, occasionally adding a little pressure with his teeth until he was arching underneath the two of them. I found myself transfixed on the scene in front of me, my lips parting to allow for the heavy breaths in my chest to escape. They all looked so beautiful, bodies moving fluidly with one another as if they had been doing this for years. Maybe they had.

Only the gentle touch of fingertips on my bare forearm brought me away from the congregation in front of me. It was Sam. That hooded look in her eyes was back, this time accompanied by the tugging of her bottom lip between her teeth. She looked starved, and all I wanted to do was feed her.

“James says there’s an empty room,” she told me, her voice a few tones lower than it had been for most of the night.

Wondering quickly how long I had been watching the trio, clearly enough time had passed for James to slip away, locate a vacant room, and communicate that information with Sam, all without me noticing his absence. I nodded my head and let her hand slip into mine yet again. We walked down the hallway together, until we reached one of the last rooms, finding James stood by the floor-length windows, looking down at the city. At our appearance, he turned back to us, a gentle smirk on his lips at our interlaced fingers.

Sam pulled me into the room gently, making her way to the large bed and dropping my hand as she settled herself on her knees in the middle. James joined her, sitting closer to the edge, and sharing a quick, excited kiss with her.

“Only what you’re comfortable with,” Sam reminded me softly, her gaze softening at seeing me stood a little way away from the two of them.

I nodded, grateful for her care, before slipping a hand up the length of my back and pulling down the zipper of my dress. I allowed it to loosen, pushing it over the curve of my hips before letting it drop of its own accord and taking a step closer to the bed. The look in the pair’s eyes made any reservation or self-doubt leap out of the enormous window. Both assessed me with a darkened gaze. James’ sight trailed over the expanse of my body with a lick of his lips, reaching his hands out for me to take. I took them and allowed him to bring me over to the two of them, seating me between them.

From behind, Sam’s hand reached out to touch my shoulder lightly, pausing to gage my reaction before receiving a positive and breathy sigh. Her fingertips traced lightly across my collarbones, trailing up to my neck to turn my head until our faces were mere inches apart. Her lips were soft and buttery when they met mine. Her kisses were delicate as they moved from my lips to my jaw, down my neck and to my shoulder while James reached a hand out to gently turn my head back to him. I could not help the smirk that tugged at the corners of my lips upon seeing his reaction to the two women in front of him. He had loosened his tie and was watching intently as Sam’s hands began to travel across my flesh. I pressed my lips to his, a hand coming up to reach into his hair as his lips moved eagerly against my own. His lips followed Sam’s path, beginning to kiss down my body. Grateful for the moment to catch my breath, my eyes wandered to the open door and I let a smirk cross my face, deciding to leave it that way.

Returning to the duo, I pulled at James’ tie, bringing his lips back up to meet mine, hurriedly loosening the fabric knot and discarding it. His hands left my body, fingers worked quickly to unbutton his shirt and rid it from the scene. In the meantime, I placed my hands over Sam’s and guided them up from their position on my waist, up to lay across my breasts. I felt her groan against my neck as her hands gave an instinctive squeeze at the tender flesh. A gasp escaped my lips, my hips involuntarily rolling at her touch.

“She making you feel good?” James uttered lowly; his voice throatier as lust overtook him.

All I could do was hum in agreement, a small nod as my eyes settled back on James’, now shirtless, frame, enjoying the way his muscles seemed to flex and relax sporadically as he watched us. I felt Sam shift beside me, pressing a kiss to my breast through sheer black material. Her tongue slipped across the fabric, my nipple hardening against her mouth. Her hand reached up, slipping the cup beneath my breast, and encircling the pert nipple with her lips, providing a little suction that made my back arch into her. She gazed up at me with a smirk, clearly enjoying the physiological effect she was having on me.

“Really good,” I said, a slight whimper accompanying my words.

“Wanna feel even better?” she had asked, looking up at me with bright, mischievous eyes.

I nodded and let her move me on the bed, settling me between James’ outstretched legs, my back to his chest as he leant against the headboard. He peppered soft, sucking kisses along my neck while Sam undressed completely. She had returned to us, fully nude, crawling up the bed, trailing her tongue up the length of my leg, just as the man in the other room had done. Clearly, she had been watching me intently, noticing the way my breath had hitched at the sight.

“Can I?” Sam mumbled against the flesh of my thigh, her eyes drifting from between my legs up to my face.

All I could do was nod, desperate to be touched by her. She pressed a kiss over the sheer panties before hooking her fingers under their waistband and tugging them down. Almost in unison, James licked a long stripe up the side of my neck as Sam copied the motion across the length of my pussy, a small smirk playing at her lips as she tasted my arousal. James’ lips passed along my jaw, settling over my ear lobe, tugging ever so gently. Meanwhile, Sam took her time to explore my preferences, observing each and every reaction within my body as she licked, kissed, and sucked different parts of me.

My eyelids fluttered shut as the two of them worked to pleasure me. It was electrifying, understanding in that moment why my friend had encouraged me to come. The excitement in the room was palpable. Breathless moans tumbled freely from my mouth, back arching between the two of them, feeling Sam’s actions grow sloppier beneath me as she buried her face deeper into me, desperate to taste every last drop of me, while James grew hard against my back, his hands ghosting across my body, manipulating my breasts and playing with my nipples until I was writhing above him.

“Mind if we join?” I heard a low voice ask, something familiar about its tone.

My eyes shot open, instantly locking on to his own from his position in the doorway. It seemed strange to see him in such conventional, formal clothes. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms, and tailored black trousers; no pops of colour, nothing necessarily to draw the eye. He looked like everyone else that night, I suppose that would have been his intention. Clearly, the majority of the attendees would recognise him, but he was not intentionally drawing focus, there to be a part of the experience rather than to be a spectacle.

It didn’t shock me that he was with a man and a woman. They stood behind him; their fingers curled around his each of his biceps. Harry always attracted attention, something we joked about the last time I saw him; the two of us having a casual lunch while ironing out some contract details before being accosted by paparazzi. It didn’t really shock me to see him at an event like this either. It was no secret that the man oozed sexuality. Honestly, it made sense to see him at a place where he could explore that sexuality, push his limits, and make others feel good while doing so.

What had surprised me, however, was the intense, hooded gaze he fixed on me. Not sure how long my friendly acquaintance had been standing there, watching as I unravelled at the work of two strangers, the thought brought an intense rush of blood and heat to my cheeks. Immediately, I began to worry about the repercussions of being seen like this. Then, I saw the look in his eyes, the way he followed every roll of my hips, the way he brought his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted me, or at least a piece of me.

“Up to you, baby.” Sam had muttered against me, not stopping her motions despite our new company. James nodded into the crook of my neck, confirming his comfort, agreeing that it was my choice. My choice to decide whether or not to allow the man I worked with from time to time to not only see me at my most vulnerable, but to allow him to touch me in that state.

I nodded my head instantly. A reflexive smirk painted itself on Harry’s lips, quickly looking to his male and female counterparts before moving forward. After just one step, he slipped his hands to the buttons of his shirt, making quick work to rid himself of it before reaching the bed. He sat beside where Sam laid, watching her movements hungrily. His new friends sat themselves on the bed too, both disrobed to their underwear, watching keenly as we played beneath them, each starting to gently touch the other.

“Can I share?” Harry asked, looking between Sam and myself to sense any discomfort.

When we both nodded, the grin returned to his face before he dipped down, pressed a kiss to the top of my thigh then slipped his tongue between my legs. I felt a deep, rumbling groan against my dripping core, him moving deeper, sliding his nose and mouth up the length of my pussy. As he settled his lips around my clit, sucking lightly, his eyes cast up to mine. They were dark, his gaze unfocussed as he licked at me as though I held the magic elixir of life. He moved wild and free, occasionally flattening his tongue, and dragging it back and forth across the width between my thighs, his eyes shutting tight whenever he did, fully wrapped up in his motions.

My body jolted under his touch, his mouth sending me into overdrive; hips rolling and grinding down against his mouth, back arched to the point it almost became painful, loud and desperate moans slipping freely from my lips. I had no control. And I adored it.

Sam and Harry took turns sharing the pleasure they gave me, alternating between providing and watching with carnal gazes. Between the two, they quickly had me melting underneath them, on the verge of begging as Harry’s friends sat either side of me, each wrapping their lips around my nipples, licking and sucking deliciously. Ten hands on me, five mouths. I was a mess, calling on God to explain how one person could deserve this much pleasure.

My eyelids squeezed shut tight, but the darkness only heightened the sensitivity of my skin, each graze of a finger or swirl of a tongue drawing expletives from my lips. I am not sure how many hands slipped beneath me, keeping me elevated until I felt like the queen of an ancient civilisation, but this new angle was more than enough to push me to my climax. My hips ground violently against whoever’s mouth, hands thrown outwards desperately seeking something to cling on to; some awareness that world still existed, and this was real. My body buzzed, blood fizzing through my veins as I came back down, lowering into the mattress as people pressed soft, sweet kisses to my body.

My eyes eventually fluttered back open, seeing Sam in between the two people I did not yet know the names of, clearly excited by their presence and keen to get to know them.

“Well done,” Harry purred into my ear, having placed gentle kisses up the length of my torso.

At that moment, a look was exchanged between the two of us, our chests occasionally meeting through the heavy rise and fall of our breaths. My eyes flickered to his mouth, his lips and chin slick, covered in me.

“Hi,” I greeted him, a breathy laugh exchanged between us.

“Hi,” he replied softly, bringing his hand up to cup my face and press a gentle kiss to my lips.

The kiss was warm and tender, however, the look that flooded his face when he pulled away was anything but. He looked at me hungrily, watching the way James’ hands gently caressed me as I came down from my orgasm. Sensing the effect seeing my body react to another’s hands was having on Harry, I slipped out from his touch, turning over and sitting up on my knees. I took a second to appreciate the two men beneath me, laying shirtless in almost-matching tailored trousers. Each excited me in different ways. James was muscular, clean-shaven, and seemed to be drawn most to watching others’ pleasure, while Harry was a little leaner, tattooed, and looked ready to pounce in the blink of an eye.

Meeting James’ eyes, he smirked as I lowered myself to press kisses from his chest to his stomach, hands grazing up his thighs to unbutton his suit trousers. Feeling myself become antsy, I made quick work of ridding him of his clothes and taking him in my hand. It elicited a light gasp from him, clearly having been confined by his boxers for too long. I let my tongue slip across my lips before taking the very tip of him in my mouth, gently moving my hand along the length of his shaft. My gaze flittered upwards to his face, keen to see the parting of his lips as he allowed soft moans to tumble from them. To my surprise, he was watching Harry as much as me, his eyes jumping between the two of us as his hips drove up in search of more. Dropping my gaze, I looked to Harry, noticing the way he looked at me; half-lidded, his irises almost black with lust, observing the way I took James deeper in my mouth. He looked a little jealous. To this day I’m not sure who he envied more.

“Can I fuck you?” he asked me deeply, swallowing hard while he awaited my response.

Slipping James from my mouth, I nodded my head, a strong of saliva still connecting me to the man beneath me. Bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth, Harry let out a mix of a hum and a growl. He pressed a quick kiss to my mouth before reaching behind him to grab a condom from the glass bowl on the nightstand, refusing vehemently to tear his eyes from the sight of James’ cock between my lips.

Settling himself behind me, I felt his hands sliding across my back, unhooking my bra with one hand while the other roamed the expanse of my back. His fingertips glided down my spine, across the curves of my waist and hips before both hands ghosted over the swell of my ass, grabbing eagerly at the fleshy parts, and delivering a light smack to the right cheek. I could not help but smile around James at him, hearing Harry groan when his actions seemed to speed up my movements.

I worked James with both hands, tongue swirling messily around his tip. My ears pricked up to the sound of slapping flesh, spotting to my right Sam laying on top of the other woman, lips reconnecting softly as she was fucked from behind. Excited to mirror her slightly, I felt my back arch, hips tilting towards Harry. I could have sworn I heard him chuckle breathily, before leaning over me, one hand moving my hair out of my face as his lips tickled the shell of my ear.

“You want this?” he whispered, his free hand teasing his cock against my pussy, slipping the head of it between my pussy lips and taking extra time to guide it over my clit.

I hummed, giving a little nod as my head continued to bob up and down James’ dick, each motion getting sloppier as I salivated at the thought of being filled by the two of them.

“Sorry, didn’t quite hear that,” his voice was a little louder this time but still husky and deliberate, confidence growing.

“Yes,” I had gasped, desperately rocking my hips against his for some kind of friction or stimulation; anything he could give me I wanted.

I could feel him smirk against my skin before he pressed a kiss just behind my ear.

“Good girl,”

Before I had a second to drink in how good that sounded coming from him, he pushed himself inside of me. He leant back up, grasping my hips in his hands as he filled me completely. My pussy ached as he withdrew himself, desperate to feel him again. A needy whimper tumbled from my lips.

Pretty soon I became a mess under him. I melted under his touch. Each thrust of his hips elicited a shocked moan that even James’ cock could not muffle. Every movement had my eyes rolling back and mouth-watering. Harry felt delicious. Every rut of his hips aroused me more and more, the sound of our bodies meeting repeatedly sounding like music to my ears, a sweet, carnal cacophony. From his grunts and groans of my name, and the way his fingers dug deeply into the flesh of my hips, I could tell the feeling was mutual.

I hoped for bruises. I wanted some reminder of his hands on my body. I needed to know that the moment had been real, and that we had both been consumed with one another.

A hand cupped the side of my face, bringing me back down to Earth. It was James, looking down at me with a dark gaze as I tried my best to pleasure him. Having Harry behind me really threw off my rhythm, each time our hips met my jaw slackened. His eyelids flickered up to Harry, he smirked, and then came back to me.

“Too good?” James had asked, a slight teasing lilt in his voice.

I lifted my head, pulling him out of my mouth but unable to fully shut my mouth as Harry picked up his speed. Meeting James’ line of sight, I nodded with watery eyes. He returned my admission with a gentle smile, removing his hand from my face and slipping it around his cock. He began to pump his hand slowly, his movements lubricated by my handiwork. Our eyes disconnected as he looked behind me and nod his head.

At this, Harry took full advantage of my newly liberated upper half. One of his hands slipped from my hip around to my chest, using it as leverage to pull my body upright. Immediately, his lips attached themselves to my neck, puckering and sucking at the sensitive flesh. His breath was heavy in my ear, and this new position gave me a chance to appreciate the quieter noises I had missed; the soft pants and whimpers he made when my hips tilted to meet his. The new stance also allowed him to reach deeper inside me, each thrust almost knocking me forward.

A hand in the centre of my chest was all that held me to him. The other snuck its way from my hip to nestle between my legs. His fingers made soft, gentle strokes around my clit. Tight, deliberate circles contrasted his messy thrusts, teeth nipping at the skin of my shoulder as his hips worked quickly and roughly against me.

Still sensitive from my previous orgasm, these two sensations drew me close to the brink of a second in record timing. My body ached for him as Harry held me even closer to him, desperate to make me come by his actions. In an act of urgent desire, I grabbed at the hand on my chest, dragging it up to my throat. I heard Harry groan wildly at the action, his head lifting to press his lips against my ear.

“You tap my hand if its too much,” he said softly but confidently, waiting until I nodded before applying any pressure.

The pads of his fingertips began to dig into the skin at my neck, slowly controlling the blood-flow to my brain. Gentle choking was all I needed for my moans to become extended, head thrown back against his shoulder as he thrust harshly into me. It was all too much in the most delicious way.

“Come for me,” he growled, his voice deeper than I had ever heard it, too raspy for me to be able to deny him.

When his fingers started to move quicker, and sloppier around my clit I was a goner. A hand shot into Harry’s hair behind me, instantly grabbing a fistful as he fucked me through my second orgasm, uttering filthy words of encouragement as my body tensed, then relaxed into him. Removing his hand from my neck, he brought it down to my abdomen, holding me upright as my muscles lost their strength.

“I want you to come…” I whispered breathlessly, my eyes shut as my head rested on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he panted, clearly creeping up to the edge of his own climax.

“Come inside me,” I had nodded weakly, desperate to know what would happen when he came undone.

I did not have to ask again. His hips picked up their speed, moans became more concentrated until he stilled inside of me. His body shuddered against mine, lips finding the skin of my neck one more time as he slowly rode out his high.

A soft giggle left my lips as I titled my head to look at him. When he met my gaze, it was impossible not to press a kiss to his flushed cheeks. He looked so precious; hair an absolute mess and eyes barely open.

“Hi,” I had greeted for the second time.

This time he just gave me a soft chuckle, eyebrows furrowing at the sensation of still being inside me as we laughed. He pulled out of me gently, a kiss to my shoulder blade as he did before stepping off the bed to discard the condom.

It was only at this moment I remembered my surroundings. Instantly, I looked to James, a slight pang of guilt for having left him hanging while Harry fucked me. However, the feeling quickly subsided when I saw Sam straddling him, both of them smirking at me.

“Not bad for a rookie,” Sam managed to comment before turning back to James and pressing her lips flushed against his.

“Wanna come get cleaned up?” Harry asked me softly as he returned to the bed. He had taken one of my hands in his and was looking at me with the gentlest gaze I had ever seen on him.

I nodded and allowed him to lead me to a bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. He was patient with me as I stepped down from the bed, waiting as I adjusted to putting pressure on my weakened legs. Once inside, he locked the door and had me stand with him in the shower, already having grabbed the showerhead. He checked the temperature of the water before running it across my body. The water was just hot enough to melt away the strain in my muscles, continuing the dream-like feeling I was experiencing. I held my hair away from my body to avoid wetting it as Harry covered me, the showerhead in one hand and a soapy washcloth in the other.

“Can I do you?” I asked softly, still feeling a little fucked out and floaty.

Harry just smiled fondly at me, nodding his head, and passing over everything he held. Bathing with Harry was not what I had expected to come from this evening, but I could not say I minded as I watched the way his body melted under the hot water. Despite the steam, I could see the grin on his face as I washed him carefully, before nodding happily to myself when I deemed him clean.

“Not bad for a rookie,” Harry had teased gently, shutting off the water and returning the showerhead.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped me in a soft, pale blue towel, using it to pull my body to him. Our chests grazing, I peered up at him.

“Was it obvious?” I asked, bottom lip tucked between my teeth as I wondered curiously if I exuded inexperience.

“Not at all,” he had reassured me, “Kind of wish I knew you weren’t used to all this… Would have gone easy one you,”

“I don’t want you to,” I quickly responded with a shake of my head.

“You don’t?” Harry grinned smugly, catching my mistake.

“Didn’t… Don’t, whatever,” I mumbled, casting my gaze to the ground in embarrassment.

“Oh, now you’re feeling bashful,” Harry chuckled gently, tilting my face up to meet his gaze with a simple finger under the chin, “I really enjoyed fucking you. We should do it again.”

“You have my number,” I managed to tease, earning a wry smile from him that made my stomach squeeze excitedly.

“I was thinking tonight, my place?”

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated.

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door.

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell.

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel.

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!”

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room.

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave.

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered.

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland story #tom holland series #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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parkersbliss · 4 years

Text

Twenty-Four | T. Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland X Female!Actress!Reader

Warnings: me trying to be funny, no-no words, me trying very hard to be funny, like really hard, but I’m not. Sexual innuendo.

wc; 4.1K

A/N: dedicated to the one and only Tom Holland, can you believe he’s 24?? I’m going to cry. Happy birthday Tom! Also let’s pretend I had a creative title. I’m really sorry this is so bad, a great idea came right when I finished :(

Synopsis: This year you decide to surprise time on his birthday. With the help of the boys, what could possibly go wrong?

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“Hey darling,” Tom spoke excitedly through the phone.

"hi baby," You greet in return, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder. "What's up?"

"Just checking in on my lovie," He said.

You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips, "sure, Tom."

He laughs, the sound making your grin, as you shift your phone to your hand, finally having dropped your stuff in the back of the car.

"Alright, you caught me. I was wondering if you were going to be able to make it to London?"

"Oh baby," You sigh sadly. "I wish I could, but they have to re-shoot some scenes here and they're keeping me for an extra week. Then I have press for a few weeks."

Tom huffs through the phone, "so you really don't think you'll make it?" You can hear the sadness in his voice and it breaks your heart a bit to lie to him like this.

"No, I'm so sorry. Believe me, if there was even the slightest chance I could be there, I would."

"I know, lovie, I know. Just haven't seen you in so long and I really hoped you'd be there."

You bit your lip anxiously, "I'm sorry, truly. I'll be sure to Facetime you."

"Okay," Tom sighs sadly.

"I love you, bubs," You said, hoping to cheer him up a bit.

"I love you too."

"I gotta go, I just arrived home, I'll speak to you soon?"

"Mhmm, miss you."

"Miss you more, all my love."

The line goes dead and you send Harry a quick text.

Step One: Completed. Tom has no idea.

...

"(Y/N)!!" Harry said, jogging up to you. He tackles you in a bone-crushing hug and you stumble a bit, wrapping your arms around the redhead. Sam follows up behind, laughing as he takes your suitcase from you. You hug Harry back, grinning at the warmth you received from the Holland twins. It felt like you were home again.

"Jeez, Harry you'd think I died or something!" You joke, wiggling out of his grasp and going to hug Sam as well.

"Sorry, it's just you being here means Tom will finally shut up about how much he misses you."

"You still have two days," Sam points up, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"Whatever man, at least she's here."

"Happy to be here." You smile as the three of you walk towards the exit, “What did you tell Tom?”

“Sam said we were picking up Elysia’s sister,” Harry replied.

You nod your head as you push open the Airport doors. The London weather is a drastic change from the usually hot and humid L.A., but you very much prefer it. The sky was a bright blue, a few cotton ball clouds floating in the distance, occasionally blocking out the sun. There was a slight breeze, but nothing too chilly. It was just perfect weather, you could only hope it stayed this way until Tom's birthday. The twins lead you to the car and Sam deposits your luggage in the trunk as you open the door to the back. Both boys climb into the front, shutting the door behind them.

"So, what's the plan?"

...

Harry pulls into the driveway, announcing your arrival. He's about to get out of the car when Harrison comes running out the door. He gives Harry a deer in the headlights look, hands waving frantically. Sam rolls down his window, poking his head.

"What?" He yells.

Harrison sighs defeated, he gestures with his thumb behind him. Tom pokes his head out the door, a solemn look on his face.

"Get down!" Harry screeches at you, turning around. You slip off your seat, folding yourself behind Sam's seat. You hug your knees to your chest, holding your breath. There's a whooshing sound as Harry tosses a jacket over your head, trying his best to conceal you from his brother's eyes. Tom walks over to the car as Sam laughs nervously.

"Thought you were golfing with Harrison?" He inquired.

Tom sighs, "I wasn't in the mood. Where's Elysia?"

"What?" Sam asked, receiving a quick kick to his seat from you.

"Right! She - uh - we dropped her off at a cafe!"

Harry smacks his head down on the wheel, convinced Sam just blew their cover. Tom gives his brother a quizzical look, "You left your girlfriend at a cafe?"

"Yes?"

"Tom! Your dad needs your help to hang something!" Nikki shouts, trying to get her eldest son away from you.

"Coming mum!" Tom replies, leaving his brothers alone. The twins exhale loudly as he disappears inside the house. There's a loud commotion and your side door is pulled open and you tumble onto the pavement.

"Sorry!" Harrison apologizes, helping you up and squeezing you into his arms.

"Haz!" You exclaim, hugging him. "I've missed you!"

"I think we know who the favorite is," Harry mumbles. You step back from Harrison to see Nikki and Paddy approaching you. Nikki squeals, pulling you into a tight hug and you laugh.

"Hi, darling! Safe flight?"

"Hey, Nikki! Can't complain."

She steps back to allow Paddy to say hello.

"Hey, Padster!" You cheer, wrapping him in a side hug.

"Hi (Y/N)!"

"It's so good to see you guys," You gush. Ever since meeting Tom, you had become very close with his family and friends. As soon as he brought you home Nikki had gushed to you about how much he talked about you, making you smile. His family was very warm and welcoming and it made you feel at home.

"We've missed you!" Paddy said.

"Mum!" Tom calls out. Harrison immediately shoves you behind him and you yelp in protest, before clamping your mouth shut and trying your best to shield yourself.

"Yes, dear?" Nikki said.

"Nevermind!"

Everyone rolls their eyes and you cautiously step out from behind Harrison.

"So, how do you plan to sneak me in?" You ask quietly.

Everyone looks at each other, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, we wouldn't be worrying about it if Harrison could keep Tom away!" Harry accuses.

"I texted you!" Harrison defends.

"With your shit phone, there's no surprise as to why I never got it."

Harrison rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out at the redhead before turning toward you. "How many spy movies have you done?"

"Three?"

He claps his hands together, "I have a plan!"

"We might as well give up now!" Harry sighed, receiving a glare from Harrison.

"It's a great plan, mind you," He snorts. "If we can distract Tom long enough and pull him into the other rooms then we could (Y/N) upstairs without him noticing."

There's a moment of silence as everyone ponders the idea. They only had to hide you from Tom, that should be easy enough. Plus the house was big enough to hide you somewhere should it not work out.

"Let's do it!" Paddy grinned, "It'll be like a spy movie!"

"We don't have much of a choice," Sam comments, peering in through one of the windows.

"I'll bring him to the kitchen," Nikki offers, heading back inside. The three boys follow her, Harry tuning around to point an accusing finger at Harrison, "don't screw this up, mate."

Harrison rolls his eyes, "I won't."

You watch with keen eyes as a small thumbs up appear in the window, letting you and Harrison know the back entrance was clear. You both make a run for the back door, crouching low just in case. Harrison puts a finger to his lips, receiving an eye roll from you. He smirks, poking his head in the door to ensure Tom wasn't lurking around anywhere. He sticks a hand out, beckoning you closer. You comply, taking a few steps forward before a string of curses fall from Harrison's lips and he tumbles back from the door and tackles you to the ground. You bite your lip, caging in any sounds from his sudden attack. Your eyes bug out at him, eyebrows pinched together as a silent 'what the hell.' He mouths 'Tom' to you before poking his head in the window again. You push yourself into a sitting position, wiping up off the dirt from your outfit.

"Can you run?" Harrison asked, turning around.

"Yes, but are you sure that's-" He doesn't let you finish before he opens the back door and shoves you inside. Sam runs into the room, ushering you to the next room over.

"He's coming!" He half whispers half yells. Sam goes to stand next to Harrison, giving you a thumbs up and mouthing the word kitchen to you. Tom strolls into the room and Sam waves a discreet hand at you and you pull yourself from your hiding place and tiptoe to the kitchen. Your footsteps fall silently on the plush carpet of the living room and you feel like you can finally breathe since your arrival. However, the moment of peace doesn't last long and before you know it there's the scurrying of paws and loud barking. Tessa happily runs into the room, tail wagging happily when she sees her mom.

"Hi, Tess!" You whisper, bending down to scratch behind her ears. She barks loudly and you press a kiss to her forehead. "Mmm, I know, excited to see you too, but I'm here to surprise daddy."

"Tom, wait!" Sam shouts and you take that as your cue to get moving. You pat Tessa's head one last time before running into the kitchen where Nikki is waiting with Paddy. She leads you to the stairs as Paddy grabs Tessa to prevent her from chasing after you. She whines loudly and Paddy shushes her.

"Do you know where the guest room is?" She asked. You nod and she smiles at you, "I'll have one of the boys drop off your luggage once we get rid of him."

You laugh at her choice of words before thanking her and scurrying up the stairs. You stroll down the hallway, admiring all the baby pictures of the boys. Your eyes land on your favorite one of Tom. He's clad in a superman suit, lips pursed together as he climbs over the obstacle course. You study the picture a little longer, soaking in all the features of your boyfriend. Was he really turning 24? Seems like you just met yesterday, back when you both were both new in the acting business, just starting in your careers. Things seemed much simpler back then when your biggest worries were if you had made the cast. It was already your third year spent celebrating Tom's birthday. Oh, how time flies. It didn't feel like three years, more like three days. Your eyes scan the array of photos and land on one from last year's birthday celebration. It was taken late at night when most of the guests had cleared out. Tom had an arm around your waist and you were resting both hands on his broad shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The photo wasn't the best quality, as a drunk Harrison had taken it and the only light was coming from the living room. Nonetheless, it still held a special memory with it.

Drunk giggles escaped your lips as you stumbled over the carpet. You had ditched your heels long ago, but that didn't stop you from being a klutz. The night seemed to drag on forever, yet seemed over in the blink of an eye. You were properly tipsy, having drowned multiple shots (courtesy of the Holland boys) and drinking glass after glass of some fancy champagne. It was probably some time between midnight at two A.M. You weren't quite sure, having lost track a while ago and frankly, you weren't sure where your phone was either. You stopped walking for a minute to collect your thoughts. Where was your phone? Patting yourself down, you laugh at your stupidity when you feel it in your back pocket.

"(Y/N)?" Harry asked, poking his head into the room.

"Oh, hi!" You exclaim, turning around and almost tripping over your feet.

Harry takes one look at your drunken smile before sighing, "Tom! Your girl's drunk!"

"Liar!" You accuse, crossing your arms over your chest, a pout adorning your lips.

Harry rolls his eyes, slightly tipsy himself, but had sobered up enough to comprehend his thoughts. Tom comes running into the room, "What? Where is she?"

"Harry you tattletale!" You whined, stomping your feet on the plush carpet. Tom laughs at the sight in front of him, shooing Harry off with a wave of his hand. He walks up to you, reaching out to place his warm hands on the exposed skin of your arms, rubbing small circles on them.

"I don't like Harry," You pout, looking up at your boyfriend with big doe eyes.

"Mean either," Tom agrees, brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

"I heard that!" Harry calls out from the kitchen.

You both ignore him and Tom leans in to press his forehead to yours, you giggle, biting your lip. "happy birthday."

"it's midnight, so technically it's not my birthday anymore," Tom points out. You roll your eyes before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He whines when you pull away, not having enough.

"'m tired," You said, rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. Tom chuckles as you latch onto his arm, resting your head on his shoulder. He presses a tender kiss to your hairline.

"then let's go to bed, lovie."

You arrived at the boy's flat with Sam and Paddy at two. Dom and Nikki had just left with Tom, keeping him away from where the party was supposed to be held later that night. You opened the door, dropping your bag in the corner and placing the rest of the decorations on the kitchen counter.

"We're here!" Sam announced, walking around and searching for the boys.

"Hello?" Paddy calls out, looking upstairs.

"No, you div! It goes this way!"

"But look at the instructions!"

"fuck the instructions, mate!"

"you all royally screwed this up."

"you're not helping Tuwaine."

The three of you look at each other, snickering as you walk into the open backyard. Tuwaine stands tall, arms crossed over his chest as Harrison and Harry argue about how to set up the table. Sam coughs loudly, causing them all to turn to you.

"And this is why we don't have nice things," You said smugly, smirking as all three of them roll their eyes. You laugh, pulling Tuwaine into a hug, "good to see you again."

"Likewise, it's nice to have a lady around here."

You giggle, stepping back, "I can imagine."

The six of you step into the kitchen to discuss the plan for setting up. Sam was (obviously) in charge of food, Harry and Tuwaine were on drinks and setting up the tables outside, which leaves you, Paddy and Harrison to work on the actual decorations. You're all about to leave and get started when the door opens.

"I forgot my wallet!" Tom announces. Everyone freezes, eyes wide as they realize the birthday boy was here. Tuwaine curses under his breath.

"Hide!" Harrison hisses at you, Sam and Paddy. Sam runs outside, ducking under a window. Paddy glances around frantically before deciding to tuck himself into a far corner of the kitchen, somewhere between the kitchen and the fridge. Which leaves you, the one person Tom absolutely couldn't see, standing in the open air.

"the living room!" Tuwaine whispers and you nod, ducking yourself behind the couch.

"Have you guys seen my wallet?" Tom asked, stepping into the kitchen. From your place behind the couch, you can see Sam's mop of hair in the window, and Paddy squished into the corner. He's holding his breath as Tom steps around the room. Harrison leans against the counter obstructing Paddy from Tom's view.

"No, maybe it's upstairs?" Harry offers.

Tom shakes his head, "no, I think I left it in the living room."

Harry's face falls, panic written all over it. Tuwaine looks from you to Paddy to Sam, not at all being discreet about it.

"You can't!" Harrison shouted.

Tom gives him a quizzical look, "mate, what do you mean?"

"You can't go in there!"

If anything, that just made Tom more curious and he rolls his eyes, stepping into the room. Unbeknownst to him, you were huddled up next to the couch, eyes screwed shut and practically suffocating. Harry runs into the room, standing behind you, ensuring Tom couldn't step back and see you.

"What Haz is trying to say," Harry said, voice laced with venom as he shot the blonde a dirty look, "is that we saw it in your bedroom earlier."

"why were you in my room?" Tom inquires.

"Because that's what friends do?" Harry replied, smiling.

Tom nods his head, "Right, I'll keep my door locked from now on." With that, he turns on his heels and runs upstairs.

"You can't go in there? You can't go in there?" Harry whisper shouts at Harrison. "How was that going to stop him?"

"Oh please, you said we snooped in his room!"

"Like you haven't."

"Guys, I think I'm stuck," Paddy's small voice said.

Everyone turns toward him, he wiggles around, frowning as he doesn't budge. You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth as the absurdity of the situation.

"Found it!" Tom shouts, feet thundering against the stairs. He stops at the door, noticing a familiar handbag in the corner and he feels his heart stop. Had that always been there? He blinks once, twice, trying to make sense of the all too familiar Chanel bag.

"Guys, why is there a Chanel bag at the door?"

"Shit!" You curse, knowing that if he opens the bag, he'll know you're here. "don't let him open it!"

Tuwaine crosses into the doorway, grabbing the bag from Tom's hands.

"It's a gift!" he said, clutching it tightly in his hands.

"For?"

"For (Y/N)!"

"I'm pretty sure she has the same one."

"Oh well, you know Harrison, doesn't know shit."

Tom laughs, Harrison, throwing Tuwaine a glare.

"You're right. I'll be on my way now, don't want to keep mum waiting."

Tuwaine nods, "alright, mate. Have a good time with your parents. We'll be waiting for you."

Tom smiles at him, patting his arm before he shuts the door behind him. There's a collective sigh from everyone. Sam brushing off the dirt from the garden.

"We are never doing this again," You said.

"No way," They all agreed.

"Hello?!" Paddy yelped, "I'm still stuck!"

You scramble to your feet, running over to the youngest Holland. He holds his arms out and you grab onto his hands, pulling.

"He's not budging!" You cry out, dropping his arms.

"That's because you have no strength," Harrison scoffs, butting you out of the way. He does the same, grabbing onto Paddy and tugging. You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a pointed stare when Paddy doesn't budge. Harry walks over and you all tug on Paddy, there's a satisfying pop as he flies out of the corner and you all land on a heaping pile on the floor.

Tuwaine and Sam burst out laughing from above, clutching their stomachs as they double over, wiping tears from their eyes. You shove Harry off, standing up and brushing down your dress.

"I swear, you guys are going to kill me."

"That's the plan."

"Divs."

...

Almost four hours later and you were ready. The house had miraculously been transformed, food lining the kitchen counter and cases of beer resting on the fold-up tables outside. There was a banner hanging from the doorway that read, "happy birthday, Tom!" Streamers and confetti were strewn across the room, all a mixture of blue, red, and gold. You had to admit the boys had done a pretty good job of cleaning the place up. Harry had told all the guests to park a while away so that Tom wasn't suspicious when he arrived. Nikki had texted the boys not too long ago, saying they were almost there. Which was why you were currently making yourself at home in Tom's room. The boys were all hiding downstairs, lights dim as they waited. They had told you to wait in Tom's room as a surprise to him. It was also a plus because you were still slightly jet-lagged. You were sitting against the headboard, phone in your hand as you waited for your cue. There's the faint sound of keys jingling before the door is pushed open.

"Hello?" Tom calls out, flicking on the lights.

"Happy Birthday!" All the boys shouted. You hear a loud thud, followed by a string of curses and many apologies. Snickering to yourself, you figure Tom just fell over. He was never good at surprises.

"Wow, you guys did all this?" Tom asked, a smile painting his face.

"Of course, mate!" Harrison chirped as he wrapped him in a hug, "Happy birthday."

Tom sniffles, "I just wish (Y/N) was here."

You begin your descent down the stairs, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You could finally see your boyfriend. Your footsteps are silent against the wood stairs, "who said I wasn't?"

Tom spins on his heels as his jaw falls open if he wasn't crying before he was now, "(Y/N)?"

"Happy Birthday, baby!" You squeal as he runs to you and picks you up spinning you around.

"You made it! You're here! It's actually you," He spoke into your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo. You comb your hands through his chestnut curls, making funny faces at the boys behind you who were all gagging.

"You didn't really think I'd miss my favorite person's birthday, did you?"

"I might've."

You smile at him, lacing your hands together, "Well, it was all Harry's idea."

"Of course it was."

"Are you going to kiss me or..?" You ask.

Tom wiggled his eyebrows, "Missed these lips?"

"Honestly, I've missed you d-"

"There are cHILDREN!" Sam screams, covering Paddy's ears.

"Shove off, I'm fifteen!" Paddy whines.

The boys all leave the room, giving you both some much-needed privacy.

Tom laughs as they leave, before pulling you flush against his chest. He lets go of your hands, running them along your arms before cupping your cheeks gently.

"If you don't kiss me within the next five seconds-" You warn before Tom playfully rolls his eyes and presses his lips to yours. You wind your hands behind his neck, trying to pull him closer because, god, he tastes so good. His lips are warm and tender, pressing against yours in an ever so soft way, but still passionate at the same time. He pulls away, sticking his tongue out at you and you giggle, missing his funny faces he'd always pull on set. Tom laces your hands together, pulling them to his lips to kiss the pad of each finger carefully.

"I've missed you so much, lovie," He said softly.

You burn under his gaze, after almost four years and he still has the same effect on you. "Missed you more, bubs, but I'm not going anywhere for a while."

"I love you so much, you know that?"

"I love you too, birthday boy. Now let's not keep your friends waiting, I'll get you all to myself later."

The rest of the night is spent next to Tom's side, always touching. Whether it was a hand around your waist, his hands interlocked with yours or a hand placed gently on your thigh. He goes around to all his friends and family, joking with them all thanking them for coming. He especially jokes with you and the boys as you tell the story of how they snuck you around.

"So that was your Chanel bag!" Tom said.

"Sure was, I was hiding behind the couch and told Tuwaine if you opened it up you would for sure know." You learned your head on Tom's shoulder, his arms wrapping and pressing a kiss to your forehead. All the boys fake gagging at the display of affection. "That explains everyone's weird behaviors."

The whole table laughs, beer, and glasses of alcohol clinking together.

You lift your glass, "A toast to the birthday boy and to all of you for getting me here as safely as you could."

Everyone raises their glasses, clinking them together.

"Happy Birthday, Tom! Twenty-Four years down and hopefully many many more to come!" Harry toasts. "Thank you for being the best older brother we could ask for."

"The best friend we could ask for."

"The coolest movie star."

"And the best boyfriend," You add, "I hope to be by your side for all those other birthdays. Even when your curls are gone."

"Likewise, baby," Tom chuckles, before sealing the night with a kiss.

— END —

🏷 Holland Taglist: @cams-lynn @runway-to-my-aid @peterspideyy @yoinkyourheart @t-monosapiens-h @hollandsamor @quaksonhehe

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