#and it makes my heart all melty and warm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shawnxstyles · 8 months

Text

personal 2

DATE: SEPTEMBER 9, 2023

summary: you can’t stop thinking about your first orgasm, so you try to relieve yourself of the ache. when you’re left unsatisfied, you reach out to harry for some guided practice.

words: 6.6k

requested: a bunch!

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [masturbation, dry humping (?), thigh riding/rubbing], praise kink, dirty talk), language, and two horny best friends

note: this is a new series i plan on writing (but i don’t know if i want it to have a plot or just blurbs)!! i literally have so many requests (what’s new…), but i have a lot of motivation to write this right now, plus i’ve gotten a lot of requests for it as well. i hope you guys don’t mind the delay of my other writings… x PART THREE

bestfriendrry x inexperienced!reader

—

It’s been a week since you last saw Harry.

Yeah, you’ve texted here and there. Maybe if you saw some funny video that you just had to tag him in or vice versa you would, but you haven’t actually seen him. Not physically. You think if you did, you might just die.

The second that you rose up from his bathroom floor after having your first orgasm ever (and mind you, it was mind-blowing), you stiffly cuddled up with him on the couch to watch the movie he picked out. If he seemed confused by your quietness or hardened body, he didn’t say it. Your head on his chest would vibrate every time he laughed at something funny, but it was hard for you to voice some of your own giggles out. You couldn’t focus on anything other than his body pressed against yours, so similarly yet so differently to how it was merely hours before.

From your position, you were able to feel his heart beating, organ pumping blood and keeping him alive. Stable. And that’s all you felt from him; his stableness and calmness. Your heart was thrashing around anxiously in your rising chest while he was just calm. His lively beat was as calm as the ocean waves, so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep before the movie had ended.

In a deep, much-needed slumber, Harry could feel your body loosen up. He didn’t want to say anything, but he could feel your tenseness. That was the opposite of what he wanted to happen. Orgasms were supposed to make a person relaxed and stress-free, but your body felt nothing like that. He could practically hear all your anxious gears overthinking in your little head. He wanted to pry every thought out and reassure you that whatever you’re thinking is fine and that he’s there for you. But he knew he had coaxed enough out of you when you spilled out your biggest secret to him, earning yourself your first orgasm in the process.

So, Harry never brought it up. Not through the funny parts of the movie, the romantic scenes, or even the ads. He just let the air between you guys grow incredibly thick with your silence, but pretended like he could see through the fog. He remained as nonchalant as possible–it was his forte after all. After you fell asleep, Harry let the movie ride out. He tried to pay attention the whole time instead of pondering what you might be thinking, but he didn’t do too well. If someone were to quiz him on the film, he would fail horribly.

Harry shuts the television off and cradles you up into his arms. Your head lumped onto his shoulder like dead weight before you snuggled up right into his neck. Harry had carried you many times before, and even more times while you’re asleep like that, but the way his skin was getting all warm and melty was something he’d never experienced with you. Your nose was right up against his pulse and it made him feel sensitive and vulnerable, but also so warm and alive. It was really hard for him to stay calm.

When he reached his bedroom, he gently unwrapped you from his body and laid you on his bed. He watched in awe as you immediately curled into a ball like a fetus, trying to hold on to something for comfort. After a few minutes, Harry joined you in his bed and threw your hands around him. Your subconscious didn’t hesitate to scoot closer and bathe in his body heat, snuggling into your favorite pillow; his chest.

It was really hard to stay calm.

You both woke up and went on your way for that day as if nothing happened. You had an afternoon lecture that you had to catch and Harry had to go to work. It was alright. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. Right?

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

Normally, that would never have been a problem. He’s your best friend, so of course you think about him all the time! Sometimes, you’ll see a sign or a poster on the news board when walking to class that reminds you of one of your guys’ inside jokes that you just have to send to him. If he sees something too, he’ll send it your way. You both find it fun and endearing at the same time because that’s what best friends do; so alike and attuned that they’re always on the same wavelength of thinking. It was normal. But the way you’re obsessively thinking about Harry isn’t normal. You couldn’t even convince yourself that it was and that’s saying something.

Your mind kept drifting off to the way everything played out last week. Even when you were in class on Friday afternoon (one week later) you just couldn’t help thinking of the cold bathroom floor and the fiery body pressed against you. It was so contrasting–it was so wrong. The angel and the devil on your shoulders were bickering more than ever, and you didn’t have a clue whose side you were on.

Harry’s assertive voice echoed in your head, almost as if you were trying to remember it. You had never heard him talk the way he was talking to you last Thursday. It was deep, sultry, and demanding—something you never would have known you liked. You’re not even sure if you actually liked that or if you just liked when Harry did it. Well, you don’t really have anything to base your sexual likings on yet…

When his hands delicately touched and teased you, down your stomach, down your thighs, you felt it. You felt it for days after. His touch lingered like a ghost on your skin, etching a tattoo of himself on you forever. It was blinding and fogging your vision so much, you couldn’t even focus in class. The second that your Friday class was over, you shot straight home. You didn’t look at your phone as you hurriedly discarded your shoes and jacket and stumbled into your bedroom.

You plopped yourself on your mattress with a familiar goal in mind that you were never able to achieve before; you were going to masturbate. Now that you could do it, you were going to relieve yourself of this… stress.

It only took a few seconds before your clothes were completely off and your head was planted against the headboard. You widened your legs and watched your lips slowly pry themselves open with the stretch. You swallowed, small anxiety bubbling in your throat. But you knew what you were doing now. You knew how to do it right because Harry showed you.

Oh fuck. You should not be thinking about Harry right now.

A small amount of wetness coated your labia. It was inevitable–the second his name popped into your head, your mind began to not only recall but wander. You remembered his gravelly voice in your ear, guiding you, showing you, teasing you, praising you. You remembered the ghost of his touch that you attempted to replicate with your own, but it wasn’t the same. And of course, you remembered his bulge that was harshly pressing into your lower back, pleading to be helped. You remembered everything a little too vividly, but it made you so wet thinking about it, and it made it so easy to rub the little button that Harry showed you.

Your clit was puffy, swollen, and needy just like you. Your middle finger circled over it with desperation, snatching some of your wetness to make it sloppier. Your breath started to become unsteady as your eyes trained on your pussy, now soaking with your arousal.

This is when your mind begins to wander. You start imagining things that you haven’t done with Harry yet, but were so intrigued by. You imagined getting on your knees for him and taking him in your mouth, so you could finally relieve his bulky ache. He would encourage you, caress you, and call you a “good girl” in his thick, leather-like voice. The thought of satisfying him until he’s groaning above you has you spreading your legs wider and spinning your finger around your clit faster.

Just like Harry did, you snake your hand up to one of your peaked nipples. You found it was difficult to rub yourself while also tweaking your pebbled buds. It was definitely something you needed to gain muscle memory on, especially if you planned on doing this when you got stressed. Which was often.

You didn’t know how often you would get wet though. You hoped it wasn’t too frequently because like right now, you weren’t completely fulfilled. If you had to do this every other day, you would probably be even more upset if you weren’t satisfied each time. You felt that chase-like desire bubbling up inside of you, like with Harry, but it wasn’t nearly as blissful. Maybe the first one is always better than the rest and with each one you’ll just be a little more disappointed as time goes on. But as a shrieked moan leaves your mouth when you orgasm, a small voice in the back of your head is telling you the real reason you’re not satisfied.

Harry isn’t here.

—

On Saturday morning, after sleeping like shit under your shoe, you asked Harry if you could come over. Usually, you would have more self-control, but there was something about an orgasm that strangled and stole any self-preservation you had.

When you woke up, you went straight to the bathroom just to find out you were wet. Again. The word really? spilled from your lips before you could stop it. You assumed that you had some type of dirty dream, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was about Harry. But you’re glad you didn’t remember it. You were hurriedly wiping up your mess and tossing your shorts in your laundry bin. In some type of rush, you took a speedy shower like it was a competition.

Then you stared at your phone, wondering if you should do it. Should you text Harry? You’ve never thought about it this much ever, but one message could mean everything if he looked at it right. What if he thought you were obsessed with him?

No, don’t think that.

Texting your best friend is normal. Asking your best friend for sexual help was normal too. Right…?

Y/N: hey, what are you doing today?

You felt a little nervous. Not because you were texting Harry but because of what your intentions were. What if he felt like you were just using him? Your heart spiked when you saw the three small bubbles.

Harry: I just got off work

Harry: Want to come over?

He knew you too well.

—

The second he texted you he was home, you went towards his place. With every red light you hit, you bubbled with anticipation, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel. Your anxiousness turned into a ball of excitement when you were actually in front of his door.

He opened it with a charming smile, one that you recognized all too well. You welcomed yourself inside and tried to seem as normal as possible. But you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Your mind kept wandering back to that feeling in your lower stomach.

“So… how was work?” You asked, creating some small talk as you plopped yourself on his couch. The very couch where everything started.

That was not helping.

Harry gave you a look, one with squinted eyes and a half chuckle. “Fine? What’s up?”

“What’s down?” You cringed as the words came out, your nervousness shining through.

“Why are you acting so weird? Are you okay, Doll?” Your stomach simmered at the nickname, differently than ever before. You had a feeling that name was never going to be the same for you again. You sighed, squeezing your legs together as Harry dropped himself next to you. His close proximity was nearly killing you. Not only did he radiate warmth but he smelt good—like he just showered in a tropical forest.

What is wrong with him?

“I’m not fine,” You admitted as your head fell in your hands. Harry grew concerned with scrunched eyebrows, throwing an arm around the back of the couch and waited for you to continue. When you didn’t, he asked.

“Well, d’you want to tell me what’s wrong or just sit ‘ere and complain? C’mon, Doll.”

You groaned, crossing your legs. The throbbing between them was so prominent, it was like a second heartbeat. Your hands balled into fists on your side, nails digging into your palms. Harry watched all your movements that you tried to withstrain.

“You can’t call me that anymore.”

“Woah, what?” Harry’s eyebrows jumped, extremely puzzled and surprised by your attitude. You’ve never had a problem with the name for the years he’s been saying it, so what changed?

“It’s—it’s killing me, H! Everything you’re doing is… just killing me and I don’t know why. I think I might explode. Is this what dying feels like?” You admitted, throwing your hands over your eyes again as a way to hide in embarrassment. Harry feels himself relax a bit, he even chuckles in the air you thought was thick with tension. When you hear his laugh, you look at him like he’s crazy. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh but it is.” It was evident that Harry knew you weren’t actually upset with him. You were just innocently turned on so much that you were frustrated. And Harry so happened to be the only one to know your little secret. So why wouldn’t you come to him?

“No, you ruined me. Am I going to be… like this forever?”

“What, you mean horny? Probably.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Then why are you here?” he smirks, patiently waiting for you to confess. You huffed under your breath while your eyes stared at your legs, thighs squeezing together at his cockiness. You were so annoyed at his control, but your body for some reason got off on it. You needed whatever he had because clearly only he could give it to you. “Look at me.”

You craned your neck up faster than you would have liked to admit, glaring at his darkening green eyes. A heat swirled not only in the pits of your stomach but in the air around you both, suffocating you with its tension. After gazing at your appearance for longer than necessary, his smirk deepens, which you didn’t even know was possible.

“I have a feeling…” he starts as his hand slowly creeps towards your neck from the back of the couch. “That you’re unsatisfied.”

“Yes,” You grumbled.

“Did you try to relieve your ache? Or did you just let it build up? Either way, you found yourself here.”

Your skin ran hot. Fiery hot. His hand brushed over your neck and he could definitely feel the scorching flames of your skin. Your heart was racing trying to keep up with your body’s excitement, making your eyes blown out and wide.

“I… tried to relieve it.”

“Did you do it the way I taught you?”

“…yes.”

“Did you feel satisfied?” You took a pause before responding, but Harry knew the answer.

“No,” You were honest, just like before. A part of you felt ashamed again, too. Maybe you didn’t do it right and you were just a lost cause. Instead of looking sad at your predicament like last time, Harry smirked. That fucking smirk. It meant he knew something you didn’t and that frustrated you more.

“So I was right. You just need a little help s’all,” his thick hand gently squeezed your neck, causing you to hum and close your eyes. He loved how responsive and sensitive you were, it lit a fire in him. “So how’d you do it, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, walk me through it. What made you want to masturbate in the first place?”

Your eyes shot open and looked as far away from him as possible. Your body clearly stiffened and got anxious from the question. You felt your hips squirm in their tight position on the couch, begging to move. Your little button was throbbing, so much it was becoming painful.

“Don’t lie. I can’t help you then,” Harry was being taunting and condescending. A tingle sparked within you, urging you to be truthful. You hoped he would help you like before because like you said, it was getting painful and you were getting desperate.

“I-I kept thinking about last week.”

“What part?”

“Um, the whole thing,” You bit your lip, twiddling your fingers.

“Be specific.”

“Harry…” You practically whined, covering your face for the third time in embarrassment. “Can you just… make it go away please? It obviously didn’t work when I did it.”

“‘Course I will, just walk me through what happened first.”

“Fine,” You took a deep breath and put your head up. You positioned your body to face him, trying to speak with confidence. “I got distracted in class and was thinking about…you know…and then I went home. I was so stressed that I just decided to do it, but I couldn’t do it unless…”

“Unless what, Doll?”

That fucking name.

You don’t know if it was from his deep voice. Or from his demanding tone. Or his hand squeezing at the pulse point of your neck, but you whimpered. The smallest and most delicate sound that couldn’t have even been recognized by a high-definition microphone. But Harry heard it, and it made him go absolutely berserk.

“Unless I thought of you.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’ve corrupted you, huh?” he squeezes your neck again reassuringly as you mewl in his grasp, a little less ashamed than before. “Well, you came all this way…”

“Please, Harry,” You delicately begged, trying not to sound as desperate as you were. Because, fuck, were you desperate. With every simple, warm caress of his hand on your neck you thought you were going to suffocate from holding your breath.

“Take off your shorts.” It was an easy command to follow. Harry’s assertive tone sent chills down your spine and a fiery tingle in the pit of your stomach. The same type of tingle you felt whenever you thought about the bathroom incident. But you were never able to dull the flame alone.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to.

Without another word, Harry’s hand snakes down to your waist joined by his other one as he lifts you up and onto his lap. Your lungs deflate, releasing a shaky breath full of your anticipation. Your legs were on either side of his, spreading you open just enough to feel yourself leak into your panties. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Show me what y’got,” his reassuring hand slips from your waist and rests on the arm of the couch. Your expression falls in disappointment.

“What? I thought you were helping me!”

“This is helping you. I have to see what y’did wrong so I can help you fix it. There’s a method to my madness, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes. He’s said that line growing up too many times to count. You used to tell him to shut up every time, but now you’re just immune to his cheekiness. The context was very different now, and that line may never be the same.

“Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. Do y’want my help or not?”

“Okay, okay!” You assured, your cunt still throbbing against the cotton of your underwear. You swallowed once the playfulness died down, silence surrounding you both. The only thing left was for you to start, which you found extremely embarrassing. “So I just…”

“Do exactly what you did. Walk me through it.”

You took a deep breath before discarding your shirt. You tried not to think about how Harry was looking directly at your body now without the reflection of a mirror. He didn’t hide the way his gaze lingered on specific parts, almost as if he was memorizing each little detail. If you weren’t so hyper focused on remembering what you did and what he told you, you would find it somewhat endearing (and embarrassing).

With trembling hands, you threw off your shirt to tweak at your peaked nipples, just like you had done yesterday. They felt raw and sore between your fingertips. With each twist came a small aftershock of pain, but you only continued to roll the bud. You kind of liked how it hurt a little…

While one hand focused on your breasts, the other began to slide down between your legs. After passing your torso, your fingers slipped underneath the band of your underwear. The pads make contact with your aching clit, just like before, but it was different. When you did it alone, it felt stressful and rushed. But right now, it feels more electrifying and dizzying than before.

Maybe it was because Harry was here and that he was watching you like a hawk. His mere presence was alluring and intensified every touch. His eyes were trained on your every movement, analyzing and critiquing you with those thorn-like pupils. You wanted to know what he was thinking, but you were starting to get too caught up in your own pleasure to care.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You sighed and rocked your hips subconsciously over Harry’s thighs. He sharply inhales, but you don’t register the sound because you’re too busy making your own. You didn’t notice Harry’s growing bulge, merely a few inches away from your dripping cunt.

Your eyelids start to tighten, screwing shut as your thighs quiver. That familiar rush was approaching you fast, and just when you thought it couldn’t come any faster, Harry finally does something. He speaks.

“Almost there already? You are desperate, aren’t you, Doll?” Harry’s tone could pass as pitiful or even taunting as his hand creeps towards your pivoting waist. But the raspy deepness of it is what sends you over the edge. Your fingers squeeze your nipple while your fingers circle your pulsating clit. All of your movements stop as your body overloads, coming down from the much-needed orgasm. Your hand slaps onto his broad shoulder for support as you quietly chant his name with a squirm of your hips. “All the way. There y’go, angel.”

With some labored breathing, you finally peel your eyes open to a smirking Harry. Your skin flushed in sudden embarrassment, realizing your position. You immediately think to move off of him, especially after just coming in your panties, but his hand on your hip keeps a firm grip.

“We’re not done yet. You haven’t even heard my thoughts.”

“…What are your thoughts?” You were a little intimated, which is something you never thought you’d be by your best friend.

You had some thoughts and feelings of your own. Yes, this orgasm was better than the one you did alone. But it was nowhere near as satisfying as the one Harry did for you. Why was that? It internally frustrated you that Harry was so good at what he did, but a small—smidge little speck—of you was proud that your best friend was good in bed. Well, you don’t know about all aspects, but you could assume.

You should not be thinking about that!

And maybe another tiny part of you was glad to be one of the people experiencing his euphoria.

“I thought it was pretty good. Pretty good for your what? Third time? Well, second by yourself. Could use some work,” Harry tried to be as nonchalant as possible. His cock was raging in his shorts, just begging to be let out for some relief. He’s not going to lie and say he hasn’t thought about his best friend in a sexual way since their sexual intercounter because he totally has.

What he hasn’t done is jerk off to you. He refuses to stoop that low because in a way, that made him feel dirty, like he was using you somehow. When he came home from work the day after everything, he had to call up one of the numbers in his phone to help settle his little problem. Okay, yes, that might seem hypocritical, but he doesn’t care about jerking off to random people or using his friendly benefits to get off quickly. That’s exactly what they were for. You, on the other hand, were not for that purpose. You are his best friend who just needs a little… guidance in the sexual field. And luckily, Harry has a lot of experience that he is (for some reason) very willing to share.

You were just about to roll your eyes when Harry’s grip tightened even more as a warning. He just knew you too well.

“I want to try something. Willin’ to try something new?” You felt the pacing of your already quick heart accelerate. Your eyes were wide and full of wonder, innocence draped over you like a bedsheet.

“Yeah. That’s the point of this, right?” Your voice sounded a little hesitant, similar to the way Harry blinked. You swallowed your anxiousness down as Harry nodded.

His hands guide your hips over onto his lap. You instantly get flashbacks from last week, his warm hands stilling your hips and rubbing gentle circles on your burning skin. But this time, he adjusts you so you’re sitting on one of his thighs. Your panties were directly on his athletic shorts and it was comfortable, but you had an urge to be closer. You needed skin to skin contact.

Was that too much? Too far?

“Actually,” As if he could read your mind, “I’m going to pull these up, okay?”

With a nod, he tugs his shorts up, revealing his large tiger tattoo. You nearly forgot he had it. As your eyes fixate on the impressive ink, you find yourself becoming a little dizzy with lust. Not only was the tattoo cool but the placement almost had you fainting. You watched his thigh muscles contract when he shifted his hips, the tiger pulsing and looking like a great seat.

Harry was going to—no did—ruin you…

Next, he pulled you forward, nearly causing you to collapse on him. Now, your covered center is directly on his bare thigh, lightly pressing against his thickness.

“Y’real warm, Doll,” Harry observes, hands subconsciously slotting their way onto that soft spot of your hips. You felt as though they belonged there now. Your skin blushed, heat bubbling inside of you at his comment. You couldn’t help but feel shy with his eyes gazing at your every move. Legs wanting to close, you force yourself to keep them open around his waist. Just like he taught you.

“What do I do now?” You didn't really know what to do with your hands and it was evident. Harry saw this, however, and threw your lonesome hands over his shoulders. His action caused you to lean closer towards him, faces merely a few inches apart. You swallowed, but your throat was dry, and your heart was running a mile in record time. You could feel every breath fall onto your face because you were in such close proximity. You wanted to kiss him badly. It was strange because you’ve never felt such a pull towards him.

“I want you to use me.”

“What?” You blinked.

“Use me. Move your hips on m’thigh until it feels really good.”

“I…I don’t know how,” You admitted, fingers trembling within each other behind his neck. A soft, reassuring smile rests upon his lips, and before he even said anything, you already felt a little better.

“Just move first and I’ll help you as you go. Do you remember what to say if you want to stop?” he asked with gentleness as his hand curled on your hip, kneading it with care. You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. He pinned you with a knowing look.

“Stop is red, yellow is slow down, and green is good.”

“You remembered. Good girl,” The two simple words made you flutter inside and out. But they also motivated you to strive and really be a good girl for him.

You released your interlocked fingers from behind his neck and bared his shoulders. You took a deep, quivering breath before beginning to move over his thigh. It was an awkward motion; circling your panties along his naked thigh while he just took it. At first, it didn’t feel all too pleasurable. The idea of it all seemed great, but you just couldn’t get into it. A small part of you was saddened because Harry had seemed excited.

Had you let him down?

But just before you stopped to complain and whine about it, Harry’s grip on your hip tightened and pulled you forward. Your heart jumped at the action, feeling immense intensity in the proximity. With the slight lean forward, your clit was pressing directly on his thigh creating a perfect friction from your cotton panties.

“O-Oh,” You breathily moaned, finally feeling that strike of pleasure you’ve been waiting for. As your eyes begin to close, Harry never seems to remove his from you, analyzing every speck of your body like you’ll perish any second. His hand remains rigid and still on your hip, forcing you forward so your clit is constantly stimulated.

“Yeah? That feel better?” he asks in that familiar, deep husk that rumbles through your body.

“Yes, H,” Your head leaned on his shoulder, thighs beginning to burn with fatigue. It’s barely been a few minutes yet you were already feeling your leg muscles giving out.

“C’mon, Doll. Don’t give up now.”

“I’m trying,” You whined, picking your head up and pouting at him with a small pant. He stares at your puckered lip and dares to kiss it. Would it be crossing a boundary? All he wants to do is suck on all your words until you have none left and leave a few marks in the process. Is that so hard to want?

“Try harder.”

Harry thrusts his thigh up into you, causing you to gasp in bliss. It was an overwhelming and shocking feeling; a single, hefty dose of pressure right into your clit and cunt. Harry could feel your prominent heat burning through your underwear and searing through his skin. He wanted to rid you of your clothes and ravage you, but you weren’t there yet. He doesn’t know if you’ll ever get there with him, but recently, he’s been dying to get there. The thought has never even wandered his mind before, but now that it is, he can’t seem to get it out. It’s as if you’re trapped in his mind and sex is the only key.

That sounds a lot worse than he thought.

“Oh my God,” Your whimpers flow straight into his ears, playing mind games with him. His cock has been puffing up in his shorts, but he’s not even trying to hide it anymore. There’s no way you’re oblivious to the things you do to him—at least physically.

Harry continues to ram his thigh up, encouraging you to move around. When he feels your body seriously about to give up, he holds you still and forces you to stop.

“Color?”

“Green, but I’m tired.”

“Do y’want to stop?”

“No, Harry, please, just—I really need you to do something. Anything. I’m close,” Your desperate pleads are impossible to reject. With your doe eyes and pouty lip, he doesn’t even hesitate to make all your pain go away.

“Need it that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Doll. Just stay still,” You obey him with a grateful nod as his thigh begins to rock up into you again. It was so much more euphoric this way—having him move while you just feel. Maybe it was a little selfish, but wasn’t that one of the perks of him teaching you? You just got to feel and learn your body.

You hadn’t thought about that part a lot. This entire ordeal was you learning more about yourself. For years you have deprived yourself and avoided all sexual activity for no other reason than fear. Fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—sex was a huge thing for you. Now, you’re doing things you never could have imagined yourself doing, and you’re doing them with the last person you’d expect; your best friend. But in the strangest and most bizarre way, you couldn’t see your firsts being held by anyone other than Harry. Would you tell him that? Probably not. That might be taken a different way than you mean, and then drama would ensue and that’s not at all what you want.

But what did you mean by it?

“Are y’close? I can feel you clenching on me,” his voice rasps near your ear, sending a shudder throughout your body. You hum a high-pitched sound, seemingly pleasing him. “‘About to come in y’panties? Never thought you’d do that, huh?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again, this time biting your lip as your stomach churned in pleasure. “Touch me, God, please.”

“Are you saying I’m God? ‘Cause that is a great compliment—”

“You’re such an—” he places his lips on your neck, suckling on the spongy part under your ear. You shiver, shutting up immediately. Every word and thought has left you completely, fizzling into the nonexistent. You don’t know if he put his lips on your neck like this last time, but it made you putty on top of him. “Why does that f-feel so good? Please, Harry, I’m right there.”

“‘Cause I’m doing it. Little baby just needed help s’all. That’s right, huh? Say it. Say you needed my help, baby.” Why his words make you feel the way you feel will forever be an unsolved phenomenon to you. There’s a juxtaposition between pain and pleasure and degradation and praise. When he puts you down, he makes sure to pick you right up again, and it might seem toxic, but it was just Harry, and you knew deep down it was all an act. And you liked that.

“I-I needed you, Harry,” A whine fell from your lips, tearing through your throat.

You liked that none of it was deeply serious and you could be what you wanted without the fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—everything you needed for comfort was there. It was here with Harry. It might all be some type of act, but it felt real. Realer than any other relationship you’ve had.

“C’mon me, Doll.”

You felt his warm hand travel from one hip to your torso. Just the mere feeling of his presence getting lower towards your center sent you over the edge. It was quite embarrassing how his simple touch was all you needed to be folded and whipped, but you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive as a beginner and, on top of it all, so needy and greedy for it. Harry adored that though.

Your orgasm soaked through your cotton panties, while some of the residue landed on Harry’s thigh. An ever-growing smirk was plastered on his face as your heated face finally reentered reality. You quietly gasped when your awareness finally slipped through the orgasmic fog, realizing the mess you made.

“Look at tha’, Doll. Was that better for you? More satisfying?”

“Yes. Thank you, Harry,” You answered wearily, suddenly being slapped with post-orgasm fatigue. The lingering burn in your muscles told you that you were going to be sore tomorrow, but you were too blissed-out to care.

“Don’t be so formal. S’weird,” You rolled your eyes at him. Again, he’s great at ruining a sweet moment. Sexual Harry versus friend Harry were two different people, but you appreciated both. It was just the sharp switches he makes between transitions that makes your head spin with confusion. Harry, your friend, was loud and cocky with a mixture of kindness. Harry, your sexual teacher, was demanding and precise with a mixture of softness. Both comforted you in a way that you hoped you would find in a partner one day; he was the perfect example.

Recognizing him this way really put things in perspective for you–Harry really was teaching what you wanted. And like he said before, maybe you didn’t need to worry about a husband right now. You should be focusing on what you want and that might take some experimenting. Training with Harry was preparing you for that experiment phase. That’s exactly it.

When you take a breath, you’re reminded of how compressed you are to him. You’re comfortable and cozy when you’re this close, and it just felt right. You don’t remember if you’ve always felt like this, but it would make sense if you have. He’s your best friend, of course.

But of course, the moment ends way too soon, and Harry is lifting you off of his lap. He places you beside him on the couch before standing up.

“I’ll go start you a bath and get you some clothes,” Harry leaves for the bathroom, the opposite of last time. Based on the last two times, to you it seems like he leaves too quickly. You never get to fully absorb the aftermath and internalize its meaning. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe Harry knows that if he allowed you the time, you would overthink until you self-destructed and eventually never speak to him again.

You don’t think you could ever do that.

So, like anything you’ve ever done, you’re left alone to analyze the situation. You were aided when you were desperate and Harry was able to mend that ache. But what did that do for him? What was Harry getting out of this arrangement? Was it even an arrangement or just best friends who occasionally do sexual things? Was he doing all of this for you just because he wanted to show you the ropes?

You’re still well-aware of your lack of reciprocation. Out of the two times he’s helped you out, you haven’t been returning the favor. There is this unspoken understanding that everything is about you and that Harry wouldn’t involve himself because what would that teach you? Without him saying anything, you know that Harry doesn’t want you to think that he’s using you for his own pleasure. But at this point in your friendship, you know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Besides, if he needed to have sex that critically, he could just call someone, right? It’s easy to “get some” when you’ve already had it.

Your point being, why haven’t you offered to return the favor? If you did, maybe Harry could give you some pointers and tell you what to do, just like all of the other times. Not only would you know what feels right and pleasurable, but you’d know how to make your partner feel just as positive. Plus, he would be getting pleasure out of it, too. That sounds like a win-win in your book, and probably in Harry’s. But would that be crossing the unspoken boundaries of your friendship? You’ve already traversed through enough together, but how far was too far? Was he basing the limits off of you?

If so, he won’t mind one more session, right?

—

thank you all so much for being patient with me 🩷 i hope this suffices you! part 3

taglist: @pishhhh20989 @harrysslut7 @kathb59 @chronicallybubbly @clarap23 @mrsstylesss @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #fratrry #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fics #harry styles fluff #bestfriend!harry #harry styles the album #harry styles fine line #harries #fine line #love on tour #harry styles gif #harry styles fic #tpwk #treat people with kindness

1K notes · View notes

dawn-moths · 4 months

Text

"Birthday Wishes"

Undertaker x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(@fanfictionsworld requested: spending your birthday with Undertaker from my Cause to Start a Vendetta AU.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! fluff with some smut at the end, oral sex (reader receiving), use of the word “Daddy”, reader is called “princess, baby, sweetheart”.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You’d been counting down the days for weeks now, your birthday circled on the calendar with a big pink glitter gel pen heart several times over, every day crossed off that crawled closer to the day— your day— making you more and more excited.

Because, as you’d quickly grown accustomed to being spoiled by Undertaker— special occasion or otherwise— your birthday was no exception to being showered with all the love and luxury he had at his disposal.

“Morning, princess…” he cooed, gently smoothing down some of your sleep-tousled hair with a big, cool palm, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you blinked open beary eyes, wrapped in his arms and the many layers of blankets that twisted and tangled about your bodies sprawled across the bed.

“Morning, Daddy…” you replied, voice soft and delicate as the lingering dredges of slumber clung to your tone, an angelic little grin curving up on your sweet lips as you nuzzled closer into Undertaker’s chest, seeking out his elusive warmth.

For a moment, nearly forgetting what today was as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your figure filling with the heavy weight of sleep once more, your eyelids fluttered closed and your breathing began to turn slow and shallow. Undertaker rubbed a hand up and down your back, stirring you back to the waking world and smiling to himself as you let out a big yawn, nose scrunching adorably with the expression.

“If you want to go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your nose and causing a fragile giggle to bubble up in your chest, “I won’t stop you. But that would certainly be a shame when we have so many fun things on our to-do list today.”

That was enough to entice you, your mind suddenly much more alert than before, and you snaked your arms up to gently rest over his shoulders. “Just a few more minutes…” you said, pressing yourself even closer to him, wishing you could bask in the safety of his touch forever. “Then I promise I’ll get up.”

A smooth, sonorous chuckle vibrated through his bones, the sound warming you from the inside out like hot milk and honey. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, allowing himself to melt back to a more relaxed state as well. “Just a few more minutes…”

As the sun crept further through the cracks of the curtains, bright beams painting the ornate master bedroom with thin strokes of gold, stirring up the wispy clouds of dust motes swirling through the air, Undertaker coaxed you into finally rising, draping one of his big, fluffy black robes over your shoulders when you became burdened with a chill, the mansion’s usual temperature kept low upon his preference.

Once your feet were dressed in your favorite pair of fluffy socks and even fluffier slippers, you took Undertaker’s hand and let him guide you down the wide halls to the curving staircase, heading towards the kitchen where you could already smell your special birthday breakfast.

The long dining table was decorated to the nines with all kinds of balloon bouquets and bundles of black and white roses overflowing from crystal vases. Spelled out in gold glitter confetti at one end of the display was HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS punctuated by a big heart. At the other was a full selection of all your breakfast favorites— souffle pancakes piled high with bananas and melty chocolate chips, strawberry french toasts drizzled with sticky maple syrup and sprinkled with a frosty snowfall of powdered sugar, fluffy scrambled eggs and yogurt parfaits and fruit arranged by color.

You sucked in a gasp of delight, hands clasped before your chest as you eagerly surveyed the scene, looking up at your Daddy like he’d outdone himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, extending a hand towards the chair at the head of the table— his usual chair, the master’s chair, the dining room’s throne— and pulling it out for you to sit in, taking the seat adjacent to it to join you in the morning’s sugary culinary experience.

Over the meal— you choosing a bit of everything to pile onto your plate in an orderly array, because why should you have to choose just one when today you could have whatever your little heart desired— you and Undertaker began to discuss the day’s itinerary.

There was a packed schedule planned indeed— a shopping outing at all your most beloved designer stores, afternoon tea at the Ritz, exploring some of the artsy nooks and crannies of the city and dropping into your favorite bookstore all before hopping on the Aurora Society’s private jet and taking the hour and a half flight to your favorite five star restaurant in Paris, sure to end the evening by enjoying your usual penthouse suit of the expensive hotel that gave the best view among any of the establishments around.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Undertaker slyly prompted just as you were about to head upstairs to get changed and ready for the events ahead, thoughts already spinning trying to decide what you wanted to wear. You stopped and considered him with an adorably cute expression for a moment until he pulled a big gift bag from under the table where he’d hidden it from you, the glossy black packaging stuffed with glittering silver tissue paper and two perfect satin ribbons serving as the handles. “You know,” he shrugged as he slid it towards you on the table, drinking in your awe, never growing tired of how easily you seemed to be innocently surprised sometimes, “just in case you felt like going out in something new.”

Carefully, as if the wrapping itself was just as valuable as the gift, you plucked the sparkling tissue paper away to uncover the pristinely wrapped box beneath, a marbling of glossy and matte black swirling over the decorative paper like ink dropped into water. The moment the first half of your favorite clothing brand’s name was visible to you, you shot him a glance, as if to say, “you shouldn’t have” despite believing down to your very core that you deserved every expensive, extravagant thing that Undertaker placed in your cute little lap.

Once you lifted the garment from where it had been perfectly folded within its box, holding it up to your body as if to sample how it would look before trying it on, you heard Undertaker sigh, a dreamy, lilting hum tailing off the end of it. “Exquisite…” he remarked, and you now held the dress out from your body, studying the intricate craftsmanship that had been hand stitched into the garment as you smiled to yourself, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It really is.”

But then Undertaker was by your side, having moved soundlessly, his even stride gliding across the short distance to meet you. “I wasn’t talking about the dress,” he murmured, big hands settling on your hips. “Now, why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready.”

You turned your face up to his, met his lips when he was close enough for a kiss, and muttered out a sweet little, “Thank you, Daddy,” before following his instruction and heading for the staircase.

He watched you go, saw the skip in your step as you ventured off, only returning to clearing the table once you disappeared down the long second story hallway and out of his view. He was going to look forward to taking that dress off of you later, unwrapping you like his own special gift by the time night draped itself over the sky.

***

The afternoon had been like a dream, you and your lover floating from one location to the next to try on extravagant clothing and sample imported teas, the two of you practically waltzing through the downtown streets where you longed to see what new installments the local London artists put up around the city before you’d lost track of time perusing your favorite bookstore, a good two hours going by without you even noticing as you strategically searched for the next story to get yourself hooked on.

But as the sky began to fade from blue to gold, it signaled that dinner was soon approaching, which meant you two had a plane to catch if you wanted to arrive to your reservation on time.

The hostess greeted you two with a friendly smile, addressing you both by name, the entire restaurant staff made familiar with London’s most notorious boss and the beautiful girl who was always on his arm, Undertaker making short, lighthearted conversation with the manager in French while they crossed paths on the walk to your usual table, the man chuckling at something your Daddy had said, forever able to charm anyone if he set his mind to it, it seemed.

As you both enjoyed the delicacies of the six course meal, you continued to talk and laugh, never running out of topics to converse about, though tonight you were most excited to tell him all about the book you’d recently finished and your expectations for the new one you’d chosen on your earlier excursion, having heard nothing but praise for the acclaimed tale.

Once the horizon had lost its lilac blush and sunk deep into the velvet navy of nightfall though, you knew you were just about to enter into yet another phase of your luxurious birthday festivities.

***

You could smell the roses from down the hall before the doors to your hotel suite in Paris even opened. The entirety of the three connected rooms were decked from floor to ceiling in at least one hundred thousand dollars worth of florals, vibrant reds and sultry blacks, flawless creams and even a dash of lovely soft pinks.

You could’ve cried at how gorgeous it all was, blinking the mist from your eyes as you spun in slow circles about the place, taking it all in. Undertaker’s hands found your shoulders to steady you, stopping your awestruck turns to face the beautiful birthday cake on the hotel room’s center table, the special dessert shaped like a heart and iced in a rainbow of your favorite colors, several candles placed strategically on the top and already lit, small flames glowing and beckoning you over to make a wish.

But what could you possibly wish for when you already had everything you’d ever want or need— a gorgeous man who loved you, showering you in every stunning thing life had to offer, as simple as the snap of his fingers or a wave of his hand— besides to continue living this blessed life that had found its way to you, through trial and tribulation?

Taking a few steps forward towards the cake, you choked out through a shaky breath, “Oh my god…” unable to hold back your tears any longer, a few sparkling drops running down your cheeks, glittering like gold as they caught the amber of the flickering firelight. You looked back at Undertaker, who was not far behind you, and wondered if you’d ever be able to convey how much this all meant to you. It almost seemed unfair. He’d always be able to do more for you than you would for him, though he never seemed to mind.

For him, just having you— his sweet, precious baby girl to dote on and adore as much as he pleased— was far more than enough. All you had to do was exist. All you had to do was be his.

“Well, go on,” he lightly urged, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips as he gestured towards the center table. “The candles won’t blow themselves out, now will they?”

You smiled, big and bright, and let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. Undertaker was addicted to that sound, the way it rang out like the delicate jingle of bells, the way it warmed him like the sun’s rays after so much rain. It made everything he’d ever done, good, bad, or somewhere in between, all worth it. Just to see you smile at him like that, just to hear you laugh. Just to know it was him who’d been the orchestrator of such emotions.

And as you let out a strong gust of a breath, turning each melting birthday candle from flame to smoke, you realized you did have one wish you wanted to make afterall.

Let things be like this forever, you thought to yourself, like a silent prayer. Let us stay as in love for the rest of our lives as we are right now, in this moment.

Undertaker cut the cake, a piece for you and a piece for him, and then the two of you sat by the counter outlooking the spotless floor to ceiling windows that gave way to the sprawling view of the City of Light, the night sky clear and sparkling with little bursts of silver stars overhead.

You talked and joked and laughed while you both enjoyed your dessert, your chair pressed right next to his, close enough that you could lean your head over to rest against the side of his shoulder while his arm slung across your back, hugging you closer to him, his most cherished treasure.

“You know…” you began, gazing dreamily out the window at the romantic scene the city offered. Then, casting him a glance from where you were nestled into his side, you said, “I think this might really be the best birthday ever.”

Something in his eyes softened a shade then, and in response Undertaker lightly took your chin between his lithe fingers, tilting your mouth just ever so slightly upwards so he could lean down to meet it. You hadn’t expected the kiss, languid and savoring at first as you parted your lips to let him in, both of you tasting like your favorite flavor of cake, soon turning more hungry, having you straddling his lap and blinded by the blissful haze that was slowly filling you from the inside out.

When he finally broke away, leaned back just far enough to look you in the eyes, gently wiping the cool pad of his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip, glossy from your mingled saliva, a weak attempt to clean you up a bit, he said, “I guess that means I’ll have to go above and beyond next year,” and you laughed and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you felt yourself relax over him.

“No, but really…” you murmured. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything. Always.”

All you got as a warning for what happened next was a low, lilting chuckle humming in his chest before he was hoisting you up, big hands splayed against the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you elsewhere in the suite.

“Where are we going?” you playfully asked, though you already had a pretty good idea.

“There’s still a few hours until midnight,” he remarked, a new kind of vigor in his voice and stride. He set you down on the edge of the king-sized bed, beginning to shrug off his jacket and tug his belt buckle free of its loops as he added, “Which means your birthday’s not over yet, princess.”

The smirk that spread across his face then made that fluttering creature resting in your lower belly roll over inside of you, beginning to wake, soon asking to be satisfied like a dog scratching at the door begging for treats, relentless until it was given its desired reward. It wasn’t long before Undertaker was hooking his grip under your thighs again, pulling you further down the bed where he then knelt at the foot of it.

You gave him an uncertain and slightly suspicious look as he flicked his emerald gaze up to meet yours. Usually, he liked to undress you, strip you down piece by piece before ridding himself of his own clothing, admiring every inch of your bare body like it was the most masterful work of art. Then he’d pin you down, his prized butterfly, and get to work at soaking both your bodies with pleasure before wringing them dry, squeezing you for every last lustful drop he could.

But tonight— on your night— he figured he’d do things a little differently. Give you one last birthday surprise before the clock struck twelve.

“Just relax, sweetheart…” he cooed, carefully bunching your new dress up around your waist, exposing the expensive lace clinging to the most delicate parts of you and drinking in the sight like it rivaled even that of the one just beyond the windows. “Let Daddy make you feel good…”

Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the soft raise of your lower belly, and you felt your tight little hole futter and your sensitive bud pulse as he slowly removed your panties, your already damp core causing them to cling to you a moment before the cool air sighed against your damp slit.

Undertaker ran a long finger through your dewy folds, making your next breath catch as he slipped it inside of you to gather more of your slick before rubbing it against your puffy clit, already swollen with arousal, pulling one of those adorable whines from your throat as you lay one arm over your eyes, the other sprawled out across the bed, little fingers twisting into the sheets, trying to grab hold of anything while you still had the chance.

“That’s it, baby…” he praised, helping to spread you wider for him, a leg thrown over one of his broad shoulders as he continued to tease you. His next words sent a puff of his warm breath against your cunt, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, exhaling a shuddering sigh. He whispered, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” and when he licked a flat-tongued stripe up your pussy, you let out a soft, broken whine, back already beginning to arch a little at the sinfully sweet feel of him.

Undertaker was skilled at a lot of things— running a business, making money, getting away with murder— but the thing you thought he was best at, above all else, was pleasuring you.

It was effortless, the way he knew exactly what to do that made you body bend to his command, melting your mind until all you knew was the press of his hips or the wet warmth of his mouth, the indents of his teeth, his fingerprints, all of it branded into you so no matter where you looked on your own body there would be a reminder of him, like a promise, a gift.

You were clenching the silky sheets in your trembling fist as he speared his tongue into you, his sharp nose nudging against your clit every time and forcing moan after delicious, high-pitched moan out of you like that was the only sound you’d ever known how to make. If he thought your laugh was syrupy sweet, then your moans were something else entirely, something far more addicting or satisfying than sticky, sickly sweet sugar. More like a drug to him, making him addicted in a way that, once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop. Not until you had nothing left to give, his pursuit at seeing just how far or how long he could make you go merciless time and time again.

“P-please—” you sobbed, the new veil of tears that had welled in your eyes causing your lashes to clump and spike together with every fluttering roll of your eyes back into your head. His pace was voracious, wanting to devour you down to your very core. You could barely get half a broken plea out before it was interrupted by a surrendering mewl or a soundless gasp, mouth hung open in ecstasy before he prepared to shatter you. “Please— I’m gonna—”

But before you could even speak the last word of your sentence, let alone remember it, Undertaker had you coming undone, unraveling you like a frayed thread on a silk scarf, pulling you apart until there was nothing left but a tangle of string he could then rearrange into any shape he pleased.

Your chest rose and fell with short, shallow, panting breaths, rigid form relaxing back into the mattress, body gone all pliable and boneless once the remaining tension melted away. Meanwhile, Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive insides of your stained thighs, palms gently petting you as you drifted down from the high and back into the garden of Eden he’d planted, nurtured, and grown just for you.

Normally, he’d barely give you enough time to recover before commencing round two, but, as he seemed to be a little more patient with you on this most special of days, he allowed your heart to slow to a steady rhythm and your breathing to smooth out into even inhales and exhales before shifting over you, darting out his tongue to lick at his own lips to catch one last obscene taste of you before wiping away your glistening arousal from the bottom half of his pale face with the back of his hand.

As he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, the vibrant green of them almost glowing through the dim dark of the bedroom, he said, as if only to himself, “Just look at you… So gorgeous… My beautiful girl…” as he helped free you the rest of the way from your pretty birthday dress, mindfully folding it and placing it on the nearest bedside drawer so it didn’t get ruined.

Because he did intend to ruin you.

He intended to ruin you in all the right ways.

As he shed his own clothing like a black-skinned snake, all those silvery scars wrapped around alabaster flesh now on full display, you reached out for him, wanting, craving, needing to feel the press of his body back on yours before the ebbing pleasure made you drift off to dreamland. Though, with Undertaker, reality could often feel like a dream, so perfect your conscious mind almost struggled to comprehend it was real at times.

But, as he began to lean back over you, your fingers interlocked as he pressed your hands down into the comforter on either side of your head, both your legs thrown over his shoulders to have you splayed wide and vulnerable for him, just the way he liked you, one thing was for certain. Undertaker had been ahead of himself when he’d said he’d have to find a way to outdo your birthday next year. After tonight, you had no idea how things could get any better than this.

***

(Hello and thank you so much to @fanfictionsworld for your request! I hope I did it justice and thank you for being so patient with me while you waited for it. I know you’ve been following me for quite some time and I always recognize you when I see you pop up in my notifs, so it was truly a pleasure getting to write for you <3

Also want to give a big thank you to everyone else for reading as well! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

95 notes · View notes

sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully · 1 year

Note

me again. sneaking. creeping. crawling. sun time. (this is totallyyyy not sammyyyy)

Wally Darling x Shy!Reader? :grins: Romantical, again, because they're wee little simps, and i am merely the vessel of their queerness.

Either properly gay together, or crushes like the last one- idm either >:) They should bake together, tho <33 Maybe Wally walked in on Y/N making treats for him and decided to help :melty:,,

God, you’re gay!!! Gay gay gay!!!! I cannot BELIEVE I have such a homosexual on my blog (hi again Sammy!! Gives you a big fat kiss! /p) !!!!! /j

Surprise Visit with a side of, ah, Flour.

Wally Darling x GN!Shy!Reader

Drabble format, established romantic relationship!

Flour.

Flour was everywhere.

Heaving a weary sigh, you’d idly pat your hands off on your pants— a half-baked (haha!) thought as the powder smeared onto those, too. But your hands were clean, that’s all you cared about as you overlooked the mess with a sigh.

Youuu.. had been trying to bake some goodies, as a gift for a certain someone! But goodness, you did not expect the flour bag to be as heavy as it was. Or for the bag itself to be so slippery and.. ohhh dear.. Pursing you lips as you looked over the mess, you’d soon give a sneeze— before wiping your nose. Dreadful, dreadful flour.. With a sigh, you’d turn to go and grab your broom— before nearly jumping out of your skin.

Wally. Your beloved partner. Standing there. Silent. How long had he been there?? What??? How did he get in? Why does he keep doing this???

Upon your startled squeak, his expression would soften into slight concern— before he gave his soft, recognizable laugh.

“Are.. you okay, over there, sweet..heart? You look a bit.. uhm..” He’d click his tongue. “.. floured. Ha ha ha!”

Heaving a few breathes to calm yourself, you’d soon sputter out a laugh— brushing at the flour coating your face, and your chest, and your legs.. Your cheeks quickly warmed up, partially due to just.. embarrassment. How much of that had he seen?? Ohh, goodness.. Instead, though, at your lack of proper reply, he’d gently grab one of your flour covered hands between his own. He’d blow on it— both to.. get rid of some of the flour, and to make a small joke out of it, before planting a small kiss to your palm.

“Do.. you want.. help.. cleaning this.. up?”

You wanted to say no, but— aaagh,.. the mess was a bit overwhelming, but— ah!! Regardless, he seemed to catch on. Gently pulling you down by your shoulder, he’d pepper a small kiss to your flour-covered-cheek.. before giving a small sneeze. It made you give a soft laugh, and his eyes seemed to grow a bit larger. Even though your cheeks burned in embarrassment, he just couldn’t help but find it cute.

“Go.. change clothes.. I can.. start down here..”

You’d simply just nod, scampering off to go do as such. And, once you had, you’d return—.. only to learn Wally wasn’t very good with flour, either. You walked in to him on his knees, gently brushing puffs of it into a dustpan— which.. wasn’t very effective, as it only fluffed up into the air. But he looked so focused, eyes squinted a bit as he kept trying. You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out of you, causing him to slowly look up and tilt his head.

“.. What’s funny?”

“You are!” You spoke softly, laughing even softer as a hand lifted to cover your mouth. “That.. that isn’t- how you clean flour.. at least not that much..”

“Oh!”

With that, he’d fall silent, seeming to look down at the flour.. intently. In the next moment, just as you blinked, you saw a whole tuft of the flour disappear— followed by.. a scrunched up expression on Wally’s face.

Did he..?-

“Don’t— don’t eat it??” You laughed again, softly, soon beginning to shuffle up beside him. He just smiled at you, despite still having that scrunched up expression— the expression of a man with a mouthful (or.. eyeful..?) of flour. “Here, just..”

From there, you gently took the dustpan and took care of cleaning up the rest— not trying to chip away at it like a flour avalanche, unlike someone. Wally, meanwhile, simply was crouched beside you, watching your movements with cat-like eyes. To him, you were just nice to watch. He liked how your hands moved— and he also really liked your hands, too.. Maybe that was just the artist in him— you had lovely hands, hands he’d love to draw! And hold!.. But, to be fair, he did also just like you. His gaze gradually shifted from your hands to just.. your face, just admiring you. You felt like you shrank under his gaze— cheeks growing hot, again. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stare, but by goodness— did you suddenly feel on display whenever you did. Not that you minded, especially from him..

Soon, with all the flour cleaned, you’d put away the cleaning supplies as Wally, instead, shuffled up to your counter. He had to cling to the edge of it to look at it, but that’s fine.

“What.. were you.. making?”

He stared at the scattered ingredients, trying to crank his brain together. Chocolate chips, flour,.. he thought he had seen Poppy use those before.. but what for?.. Ahh, baking was not his strong suite..

“Oh— uhm, cookies!” As you spoke, you’d huff a nervous laugh, soon slipping up beside him by the counter.

“Can I help?”

“.. Depends..—“ Rolling your eyes playfully, your hands would slip away from one another— having been fidgeting— to instead be placed on Wally’s shoulders. Your touch was light, hesitant, but he idly curled into it. “—Are- are you- going to keep eating the chocolate chips? Because that isn’t help..”

Watching as his eyes widened, he’d slowly crane his head up to look at you— eyes blown wide.

.. he was puppy dog eyeing you.

“Perhaps..”

You gave a soft laugh at his response, and he smiled. He liked making you laugh. It was a very pleasant sound, one he’d gladly ramble about to anyone who’d listen.

“Okay, well, don’t— please..” Humming softly, not angry, you’d sloooowly push the bowl of chocolate chips out of his sight. Not before he blinked and ate one last extra one. For this, you shot him a playful glare.

"What? I did.. nothing.." "Mm, sure.."

Smiling, you soon began to grab the flour again— far more wary this time. Wally simply kept you company, smiling to himself as he.. watched (you).

What a pleasant visit. ♡

SLAMS DOWN THIS PILE OF DOMESTIC BLISS. EAT UP.

I found it a bit hard to fully incorporate the reader being shy beyond just mannerisms with a pre-established relationship, apologies!! I hope it was satisfactory either way, though :]

God I love fluff ggnrrrnrenregg……….

#sighsdeeplyanddreadfully #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home wally darling #domestic bliss my beloved #x reader #reader insert

259 notes · View notes

readyforthegarden · 5 months

Text

Breakable Heaven - Part Three

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Synopsis: Being the maid of honor in your best friends wedding is already stressful enough without the best man being the ex-boyfriend who tore your heart to shreds. Stumbling across a dating app with dates for hire, you take a chance, inviting a perfect stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weeklong celebrations. But how long can the charade last when the champagne starts pouring and feelings start growing?

AN: posting early for my lovely @gretavanfleetposts and because danny posted today while I was writing part four so it’s meant to be 😌

Warnings: Conversations alluding to sex, mentions of drinking 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WC: 3495

“Did you see this itinerary?” Danny asked you as you yawned the next morning, walking back into the living room after brushing your teeth. There had been an early wake up by room service with coffee and pastries. You watched from the bed as Danny had brought the tray back into the living room, and for a brief moment, you thought you fell in love with the sight of the tall man, curls disheveled and holding an apple danish.

Sitting next to him on the couch, you glanced over his shoulder at his phone screen, watching him scroll through the imported calendar. Monday, today, was low-key, as more people arrived at the vineyard. There was nothing for the bridesmaids as some were missing still, while the groomsmen went golfing at a nearby course, and then another dinner at the vineyard restaurant.

“Mike invited me out to golf with the guys today,” Danny picked up a note on the tray with the coffee and handed it to you.

“That’s really nice.” you leaned forward, setting it down after reading it and pouring some coffee into a mug from the fancy carafe. You poured in your cream and sugar, stirring it and taking a long sip. “Do you like golf?”

“I actually love golf.” Danny smiled, biting into a danish. “I may have done a little research about the area and was planning on going to play while you were busy with wedding stuff.“ you set your mug down and reached over, grabbing a danish of your own. As you chewed, you pulled up the itinerary on your own phone, looking through the days.

“Uh, we have a field day??” you asked rhetorically, furrowing your brow. “A campout? Olivia didn’t say anything about camping.”

“It’s just one night, and look, the next day you’re at a spa all day getting pampered.” Danny mentioned, tapping the side of your phone with his long pinky finger. You did feel a small sense of relief that it would only be one night. “Dang, that massage sounds really nice.”

“Mm, hot stones, I cannot wait.” you nearly moaned at the idea, your body already feeling a little melty. “What time do you have to be downstairs?”

“‘Bout an hour.” Danny sipped on his coffee, leaning back in his seat. “Enough time to shower, get dressed and kiss my honey goodbye.” you froze for a moment, until the nickname conversation replayed in your head. Then you realized what he said and near-stammered.

“Oh, you want me to go with you down to the lobby?” Shrugging, Danny gave you a small smile.

“You don’t have to,” he began. “But it may make us look as hopelessly in love as we proclaimed to be last night.” you nodded and thought about it. In all your worries, you hadn’t realized that you and Danny had shared a kiss already. And in front of Gavin, no less. It felt like it was supposed to happen, once your surprise had worn off. His lips had been warm and soft, the memory of the faint trace of beer on them made you lick your own subconsciously.

“No, that’s a good idea.” you nodded. “We’re still in the honeymoon phase, after all. Do you mind if I go get dressed before you hop in the shower?” Danny shook his head and you got up, going into the bedroom and shutting the doors. You dressed quickly, throwing on a light, soft sweater and some jeans before slipping on a pair of socks and going into the bathroom, running your brush through your hair. The green of your sweater was one of your favorite colors; it made your eyes pop and your skin glow. The color boosted your confidence in a way that gave you a little more bounce in your step as you walked back into the living room.

“Oh, you look nice.” Danny complimented when his eyes raised from his phone screen to you. Smiling, you gave a little spin as he stood up and walked closer to you.

“Thanks, I love this sweater.” you replied. Danny was close enough now, he reached out, gently pinching the fabric on your upper arm and rubbing it between his fingers, feeling the softness of it. “Olive green is one of my favorite colors.” Danny’s eyes raised to yours, a tender smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, I don’t like olives,” he said softly. “But I do like this sweater.” as he departed to go get ready himself, it felt like he had finished his sentence early. If he had continued, he would’ve let slip that he possibly only liked it because it was on you.

While he stood under the steaming water of the shower, Danny questioned why he had just done that. He felt a quick friendship budding with you, that was for sure, but to flirt like that with no audience wasn’t a part of his job description. It just happened, he hadn’t even realized he was touching your sweater or standing that close until he was walking away, leaving you to stare at his retreating back.

You were doing your best to busy yourself in the living room, putting the empty coffee mugs back onto the tray, wiping up any crumbs of the table, even though you knew housekeeping would be in to straighten up. Danny was a very, very good actor, you decided. A method actor, who had to stay in some form of character in order to properly perform when the time came.

When he was ready, you and Danny headed out, his hand sliding into yours in the hallway swinging slightly between the both of you as you walked. There was no need for assistance down the stone steps in your sneakers, but he made sure to slow his gait as you both descended.

Mike, Gavin, and the other groomsmen were already downstairs, a small, black van idling in front of the doors. Olivia was standing next to Mike, doing her best not to glare at Gavin as the two men spoke.

“Hey! Glad you could make it!” Mike grinned, waving Danny over. Danny let go of your hand as Olivia cut through them, coming to stand by you.

“Thanks for inviting me, this will be more fun than playing by myself.” Danny thanked Mike, before being introduced to a few groomsmen he didn’t get to meet at the dinner before.

“I was thinking we could go into town while they’re out golfing.” Olivia turned to you. “I need a few things I forgot back home and my mom is already driving me insane.”

“Sure, I just have to run upstairs and grab my bag.” you replied, motioning back towards the room.

“Danny, did you do this on purpose?” Tom, one of the groomsmen, laughed. “Your socks match her sweater!” Looking down, you realized Danny had adorned his long legs with argyle socks, patches of olive green in the pattern.

“It’s for good luck,” Danny wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his side, looking up at his grin. His crooked smile charmed everyone around him, and you found yourself included under its spell. “Matching my girl makes me play better.”

“Sure it does.” Mike patted Danny’s arm with a laugh. “We should get going, our tee time is in an hour.” Danny squeezed you closer before pulling back a little.

“A kiss for even better luck?” his hazel green eyes sparkled down at you and you couldn’t help the small smile and nod you gave him back. You hopped up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips against Danny’s before he pressed back, holding your cheek to keep you in place a few seconds longer.

“C’mon lover boy!” Danny pulled away with a laugh, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, honey.” he winked back at you as he walked out the front doors, leaving you standing there with a breathless feeling.

“Damn, he’s good.” you murmured to yourself, forgetting Olivia was right next to you.

“Yeah he is,” she agreed, a smirk on her face as she watched you.. “Go get your bag and drink some water, babe. We’ll leave in ten.” nodding, you went back upstairs to grab your purse. Meeting Olivia back downstairs, she ushered you into Mike’s sports car, and whisked you off to town. The small town was straight out of a hallmark movie, the street lamps done up for the nearing autumnal season with warm white lights and fall leaf garlands wrapped around them. Everyone on the streets seemed to know one another, stopping for a chat or smiling pleasantly.

You and Olivia popped in and out of a few stores, gathering some last minute items, various spools of white threads in case something tore on her dress or veil, inserts for her heels she’d be in most of the day, anything and everything Olivia was starting to panic about. Stopping off at one of the small diners for lunch, you recounted the items on the list she rattled off in the car, trying to see what was left.

“I wonder how the boys are doing,” Olivia cut you off, pushing the grilled chicken from her salad around the plate with her fork.

“Well, they’re probably a few beers in and having trouble seeing the tees.” you laughed under your breath, remembering the time Mike and Gavin came back from a golf day with the guys plastered. “If that group makes all eighteen holes, I’d be impressed.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Olivia giggled. “But I was talking more in terms of getting along.”

“Why wouldn’t they get along?” you turned up from your phone, marking off one of the last items you knew you had gotten on the notes app. Olivia narrowed her eyes at you, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

“Because, Mike told me Gavin thinks Danny is a prick.”

“What?!” your mouth fell open in shock. “They’ve spoken to each other once!”

“Well apparently, Gavin tried to talk to Danny at the bar last night, and he completely ignored him.” Olivia shrugged. “Said he was trying to congratulate him on getting a girl like you.” you rolled your eyes so hard, you nearly severed your optic nerve. “I know, I don’t believe it at all.”

“Gavin went up to Danny and tried giving him advice about me,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Told him that he was surprised we lasted as long, that I was boring and to try and cut his losses early.”

“I swear to god,” Olivia was fuming across the table. “When I get my hands on that piece of shit-”

“Danny took care of it.” you told her. “He told him to drop it and from the looks on their faces when I came up, I’m pretty sure Danny scared him a little.”

“Good, that bastard deserves to be scared.” Olivia stabbed the piece of chicken now. “I don’t know what Mike sees in that man.”

“Beats me,” shrugging you picked up a fry from the plate you were sharing with Olivia, dragging it through the ketchup on your plate. “I’m sure nostalgia is clouding how different they’ve become.”

“Oh for sure,” Olivia agreed, finally eating more of her salad. “Speaking of Danny, I want to know more.” you froze internally. Olivia was never one for simple, non-invasive questions. No, she was a true interrogator. If she could waterboard answers out of people, you felt that she fully would.

“Like what?” Now it was Olivia who rolled her eyes.

“Everything! What’s he really like? He’s in a band, are they any good? You’ve kept me in the dark and I need to know everything!!” you felt a pang of guilt twist your stomach when Olivia said that. Lying to her was hard, she was your best friend, the biggest secret you’d ever kept from her was her birthday and Christmas presents.

“His band is really good,” you nodded, the fibs starting to flow through your teeth. “They’re a rock band, so talented.”

“You’ll have to send me their stuff, I’d love to hear it.” Olivia smiled, her eyes wide and sparkling. “Oh! We should go to one of their shows together! When I get back from my honeymoon!”

“That’d be great!” you faked a grin. You wouldn’t know Danny anymore after the wedding, there was no chance of that. “Um, I mean I don’t know what to say, he’s just…he’s really great, Liv.” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice.

“Okay, but how is he?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Liv!”

“Oh come on, I know all about Gavin’s dick and how that was, give me something good!” she whined. “I’m about to be with the same penis for the rest of my life, I need to live vicariously through you!” Blushing, you sighed. What Olivia took as you trying to decide where to start first, was you trying wrap your head around talking about sex with a man that you had only kissed twice, and were never going to go farther with.

“He’s incredibly…attentive.” you finally answered. “I have no complaints.”

“Oh come on!” Olivia pressed, stomping one of her feet under the table. “You have to give me more than that!”

“Liv, really, I…” you pursed your lips together. “He’s different…he cares, and he’s good. I’ve never been with anyone like him.” Olivia grinned, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“One day I will get a full play-by-play out of you.” she replied, snatching a fry off the shared plate. “He must really be something if you of all people aren’t giving me every sinful detail.”

“He is,” you smiled softly. The two of you finished your lunches, heading back out to the shops for the afternoon, finishing off the list and shopping for fun. The ride back to the vineyard was filled with anticipation. You were excited and nervous to see Danny, not knowing how he’d take the conversation you and Olivia had at lunch, but hoping he would laugh, especially at the way you blew it off.

You and Olivia had just started walking from the car back to the stone manor when the van with the men pulled up. They were loud, as soon as the doors opened to let them out, and they spilled out, laughing and talking excitedly with one another. You saw Danny, who looked to have a new hat from the golf course on his head, with his arm around Thomas’ shoulders as they spoke to one another, and you smiled, glad he was getting along with them.

“Baby!” Mike waved at Olivia once he spotted her. At his voice, Danny looked over, an excited grin on his face. Before you could register it, Danny sprinted across the parking lot to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up off the ground.

“I played the best game I’ve played in years!” he cheered. Your hands clasped his strong shoulders as he spun you around in circles.

“I’m glad!” you laughed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he stopped turning, adjusting his hold on you. Reaching up, he took the hat off of his head, plopping it on you. It smelled of new materials and a little bit of sweat, mixed with the shampoo and conditioner Danny used that morning.

“All because of that good luck kiss, honey.” he said softer, before turning to the guys. “You all made fun of me, but who got the best score?” The guys all waved him off, but Danny had turned back to you before he even saw. “I need one before every round from now on.”

“I think you’re a little tipsy, Danny.” you laughed softly as he hoisted you up, feeling you fall a little.

“Maybe, I had a few rounds to celebrate my win.” he shrugged.

“You guys are back in just enough time to sober up for dinner.” Olivia laughed as Mike swayed her back and forth. Danny set you down, sliding his hand into yours as you both walked into the building. “Let’s go, you smell like beer and sweat.”

“A day well spent!” Mike cheered, causing the other guys to cheer in agreement. You laughed as Danny joined in, his eyes glimmering. You and Danny parted ways with the others and headed to your room, where he immediately kicked off his golf shoes.

“That was so fun,” Danny laughed, sitting on the arm of the couch, letting himself fall back. His long legs dangled over the arm, and you shook your head. “Gavin sucks at golf, if it’s any consolation.”

“You know what? It is.” you came around the back of the couch, looking down at Danny, who had his eyes closed, hands laid flat over his chest and abdomen, thumping out a beat that was in his head. “You’ll never guess what Olivia and I talked about today.”

“What?”

“Our sex life.”

“Hmm?” Danny sounded confused for a moment, then laughed.”

“Did you tell her I was huge?”

“No! I tried to stay away from that.” you shook your head. “I did tell her I was completely satisfied and had no complaints.” Danny’s eyes opened as he gave you a goofy grin. The green in his eyes melted in with the browns, reminding you of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Glad to hear it,” Danny laughed slightly. “For the record, I’m amazing.”

“Oh you are?”

“Yeah.” Danny closed his eyes and nodded confidently.

“I’ll take your word for it.” moving away from the couch, you went to the bedroom getting your outfit together for dinner. You listened to Danny start to lightly snore from the couch, and you stilled. Mostly so you could slow your movements, not wanting to wake him as he slept off the sun and alcohol. But also because it reminded you of how you’d woken up in the night. You found out you and Danny both tended to sleep on your sides and stomachs, arms under the pillows supporting. You had felt something touch your hand, and jolted out of sleep, though not enough to rouse your bedmate. Danny’s fingers had been grazing yours in his sleep, twitching like he would hold them if not for his unconscious state.

Something about that memory made your stomach flutter, thinking of Danny’s sharp features having been softened by sleep. You were becoming fond of the young man snoozing on the couch. You hoped that the two of you could stay friends after this ruse was over, pretend to break up, maybe even use the band and his traveling as an excuse, and then just be friends.

You were taking the last hot roller out of your hair when Danny entered the bathroom, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“What time is it?”

“Almost half past six,” you answered. “I’m almost done, and then you can hop in the shower before dinner.” Danny nodded, leaning against the doorframe, watching you turn your attention back to your hair. He watched as your fingers gently fixed and primped the smooth, loose curls before you grabbed a can of hairspray and set them in place.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, watching your cheeks turn pink under the soft blush that was resting on them already.

“Thank you,” your eyes flickered from his reflection in the mirror back to your hair. “I…”

“Yes?” Danny looked at you curiously after you stopped yourself. Taking a breath, you looked back up at his reflection sheepishly.

“I get that you’re here to pretend to be my boyfriend and to be in love with me, but you compliment me even when we're alone.” Danny felt something bubble up in his throat, trying to clear it before he spoke again.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly, and Danny watched as your hair bounced from the movement. “But it’s just….I don’t know, it’s nice, I guess.”

“Well, knowing how Gavin talked about you, I can’t imagine he was doling them out very often.” Danny near-sneered at the mention of Gavin. He had refused to acknowledge the man during the golf outing, opting to get to know the other groomsmen and Mike a bit more. Danny felt his heart sink as your face told him he was right. “Just because this is fake, doesn’t mean my compliments always have to be. You deserve to be told you’re as beautiful as you are, as many times as possible.”

There was a change in Danny’s eyes that you noted, though what it was you couldn’t guess. He stood there for a few more seconds, locking eyes with you before pushing himself off the door frame and walking back out to the living room. You quickly finished your hair and makeup and left the bathroom letting him pass by you to get ready.

“I’ll be done in fifteen, wait for me?”

“Of course.”

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet @gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr @ofthecaravel @musicspeaks @radmads-gvf @madneedshelp @the-starcatcher

#danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #breakable heaven fic #danny gvf #danny wagner fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

yanderu-deredere · 1 year

Note

Your ocs with a sick darling maybe? I’m sick right now and want them to comfort me please

a/n: why is this literally me every single day? hopefully you feel better soon and here's some helpful (and maybe not so helpful) yanderes to perhaps be of service to you

warning: please don't take this as an instruction guide to how to take care of a sick person

eun-jeong yoo ★ profile

literally acts like this is why he went to medical school, like this is the sole purpose of his degree and nothing else

unfortunately paranoid tho? like he's checking your temp constantly and if that shit isn't getting better, he'll be like actually i think you have a brain parasite or something, puppy, like idk your symptoms really match--

babies you SO much

doesn't let you get up at all, will get everything for you, will bring food to you, makes you all the good comfort food of korea, etc etc

probably the most likely to get you all better the fastest

You sniffled, pulling the blanket farther up so you were warm and covered.

It made Eun-jeong's heart melt, to be honest. You looked so cozy but also so helpless at the same time. It was like staring at a puppy! Especially with your hair all messy and your big sweet eyes so innocent and watery.

He removed one of his leather gloves to press his palm against your forehead. You were definitely still significantly warm and, from the way your nose was running, it didn't seem like you were going to get better any time soon.

"Okay, puppy, can you sit up for me and take some medicine?" He reached over to get the little cup of flu suppressant with his ungloved hand before he tried to pass it over to you.

When you pouted, he felt his melty heart get pierced. Softly, he placed a kiss on your warm temple "Come on, pretty, just this and then you can chase it with your favourite drink. See? I brought it over?"

When you continued to pout, he just chuckled and helped you up. He'd make you feel better, no matter what.

gawain dubhán byrne ★ profile

paranoid fuck pt. 2

except he doesn't have a medical degree so like you sneeze and he immediately thinks it's brain cancer

all of his worries are sooo far from the truth that it's not even funny (but also its so so funny)

also babies you but not to the point of forcing you to stay in bed or not letting you do things you want

like if you wanna sit on the couch and watch movies instead of huddling in bed, he'll let you

but he'll also be there lmao he's attached to your hip

"What do you want to watch, darling?" He grabbed the remote for you so he could flick the expensive flat screen on. "Anything you want, I promise."

You just sniffled, your voice hoarse as you shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around you "We can watch Pride and Prejudice. I know it's your favourite."

"My sweet, I want to watch something you want to watch." Gawain frowned though it was hard to at the sight of you.

You're sitting huddled on the couch, looking like a bulky little potato or maybe a stubby burrito. It was precious and part of him wanted to keep you sick forever.

"Might just fall asleep." You leaned your head against his shoulder and his heart fluttered "Just wanna watch sm'th you wanna watch."

"Okay, darling, that's good too." Gawain pressed one last kiss on the top of your head before pointing the remote at the flat screen to start Netflix

fujio watanabe ★ profile

can barely take care of himself let alone you

then again, he made sure his little brother survived to adulthood, right? he can take care of a sick darling

wrong.

he's definitely there just for muscle. you can't move around so you can ask him to do things for you

you have to be specific tho forreal becos you'll ask him to get you soup and he'll get you all the soup, all the kinds he can find

same goes for medicine, cough drops, etc etc

keeps calling his little brother for advice lol like you can just hear him in the background, panicking

"What do you mean thermometer? Can't I just put my hand on her forehead and know?" Fujio grumbled into the phone, his hand on his own forehead as he stared at you curled up on the couch.

He could hear the static sigh of his brother on the other end of the line "If her fever gets to a certain point, you have to take her to the emergency room."

It was like someone dumped cold water over him. Emergency? It was just a cold wasn't it? Why'd you need to go to the emergency room?

"Okay, okay." It was like someone lit a fire under him. "Just stay on the line."

He rushed around, phone held in between his shoulder and his ear. He hurried to get his keys, a jacket, his wallet-- Before he left to go out the door, Fujio leaned over to you, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I'll be back, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of this."

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

he knows first aid? but that's about it lmao

you know that saying that's like idiots can't get colds? mans has the strongest immune system in the world

part of him is actually kind of fascinated by your cold like what, your nose is blocked? what does that mean? and your body is warm? why is your body so warm? huh?

literally has only two people he can call that he trusts and one of them doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about (fujio) and the other can't be bothered (fujio's brother)

definitely depends on you to tell him what to do

"Here, I made you miso soup. It's the only soup I know how to make." He pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa with his free hand before he placed the bowl of hot soup in front of you.

You muttered a very crackly thank you before reaching over. He stood there, watching your every move like a hawk, his fingers playing with each other in anxiety.

Because of your bad throat, instead of saying anything, you just gave Ryuu an enthusiastic thumbs up. Or, as enthusiastic as you could looking like you were half dead.

His entire body relaxed and he plopped down next to you, making sure his large body didn't jostle you too much. He then wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Don't do that! You could get sick!" You growled at him, voice throaty.

Ryuu just laughed, pressing another kiss against the same exact place "Babe, I don't get sick ever, don't worry."

ayaka yamato ★ profile

would not touch you with a ten foot pole

like sorry, she loves you with all of her heart and all but like what if she gets sick? no way!

does hire the best doctors in the world to take care of you

gets really angry at you for no reason becos why the hell did you get sick, now she can't be around you!

despite the fact that she can't be around you, she definitely hovers close to your room

demands that you stay at her place also lol

"Hi hi, baby, how are you?" Ayaka smiled at nothing in particular, her glamorous nails tapping against the coffee table in front of her, her glitzy phone held against her ear.

All you could do was really groan and, from the sound of rustling sheets, she could tell that you had shifted positions.

She could almost cry. She wanted so badly to be able cuddle you close, to hold you and comfort you, maybe even run her fingers through your hair. But you were sick and there was no way in hell you were going to pass that bug to her.

"Baby, I asked you a question." She said instead, her grip on her phone tightening.

"I'm fine, my love, my throat just hurts a lot." You finally responded after a minute of silence. Probably because you were in so much pain, Ayaka thought bitterly.

She nodded despite the fact that you couldn't see her "Okay, okay, I'll leave you to rest. Text me if I can get anything for you, okay?"

You grumbled out an affirmative and she forced herself to hang up after exchanging 'I love you's. Ayaka didn't sit there doing nothing for long though.

Immediately, she stood up so she could pace before dialing another number. Her face contorted and, if anybody could see the anger that was radiating off of her, they probably would've scampered in the opposite direction.

"What the hell am I paying you for! You're supposed to be making my darling feel better! Goddamnit, go back in there and do something or I'll have my guards fillet you, you useless piece of shit!"

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #female yandere #male yandere #oc x reader #female oc #male oc #eunjeong #fujio #gawain #ryuu #ayaka #drabbles #bulleted

54 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

Eighteen (Crazy) Chapter 8

“Okay,” Shiro says, assuming his Dad Posture.

(He denies that he has a Dad Posture, but he really does. He holds his hands in front of him, clasped together, expression on his face like he already knows they’re going to whine at him and he’s ready to guide them in the right direction.)

“...and then we’ll meet back here, okay? Repeat my instructions back to me.”

And the Dad behaviour continues. Shiro would make an excellent kindergarten teacher, Lance thinks. Maybe that’s his retirement plan.

“Go to our rooms, shower in case the lake water had weird stuff in it, get dressed in warm clothes, grab leftovers from the kitchen, and meet you in the common room in thirty minutes,” everyone recites dutifully, which is wonderful for Lance because he wasn’t listening.

Lance hides a smile in his hand. Having a dad is so cool.

Since Lance know he has spent the day being particularly stressful (he’ll admit that the pod racing was unkind to Shiro’s poor heart), he chooses not to complain, instead pressing a kiss to Shiro’s cheek with a loud ‘mwah’ sound and an overly-enthusiastic “sure thing, Pops! Love ya!”

“You are nine years younger than me,” Shiro grumbles. He tries for approximately three seconds to look grouchy, but then he sighs. “Love you too, menace boy. Go. Shower off the lake filth.”

Lance rushes to his room, chucking off his flight suit and turning to water to cold. He’s going to regret that, probably a lot, but if he lets the water stay warm there’s a thousand percent chance he’s going to get distracted, and his shower alone will take him forty-five minutes. And, yeah, Lance is not the most punctual person around, and the team is well used to his shit, and he’s the birthday boy so he won’t get in any real trouble, but –

Lance wants presents, okay? He’s excited. Sue him. By the time he’s cleaned and has rushed through his skincare routine, it’s only been 17 minutes.

Hell yeah.

He sprints down the halls – too much energy to walk – careening through the doorway of the common room and skidding to a stop when he sees he’s not there alone.

“Hey, Lance,” Keith greets, tilting his head back so he can see Lance from his position on the floor, grinning brightly. “You’re early.”

“I’m on time,” Lance says huffily. He looks at his watch to double check. “Yeah! Shiro said be here in a half hour, and I only took eighteen minutes!”

“You have never been on time even once in your life, dude, so on time for you is early. With the exception of missions, Hunk calls you fifteen minutes early for training every day and somehow you’re still late. Honestly, it’s a little impressive.”

“You are mean to me,” Lance whines, throwing himself with as much drama as he can manage on the couch, arm over his eyes and everything. “Horrible, rude, unfair. A bully, even –”

Keith makes a loud groaning noise, flopping his head back on the couch and going cross-eyed in his attempt to give Lance a Look.

“I will do anything in the world to get you to stop,” he says. Lance kicks him in the shoulder as punishment, only Keith’s reflexes are faster than Lance’s, so he manages to grab Lance’s leg and yank on it, pulling Lance forward with a yelp. He barely manages to catch himself on time, ending up with his legs on either side of Keith’s torso and his hands in his hair.

Lance grins wickedly.

“I have decided on the anything in question,” he announces. He slides his hands through Keith’s hair and tugs.

Keith groans. “No.”

“You said anything! That includes braiding your hair!”

Lances starts to brush his hands through Keith’s hair, scratching his nails over his scalp in the way he knows makes Keith all melty.

Keith sighs. “Fine –”

Lance cheers, immediately sectioning Keith’s hair and tying one half to the side.

“–but you cannot do pigtails.”

“Aw, hey,” Lance pouts. “But pigtails are so cute and fun!”

“Case in point.”

“Please please please please please please –”

“You think that’s going to work on me, Lance, but you’re wrong. I pulled that shit on Shiro all the time. I’m immune.”

Ha, that’s what he thinks. Keith may also be an annoying younger brother by trade, but Shiro is a softie like none other. He has the biggest bleeding heart than anyone Lance has ever met. You ask him anything and you’re almost guaranteed it if you pout well enough. But Lance grew up with Veronica. With Marco.

With Hunk.

He could out-annoy Keith braindead and with duct-tape over his mouth.

“– please please please please please –”

“Alright fine!” Keith shouts. “Jesus. I thought I was good at that.”

“I am the queen,” Lance says primly. He goes right back to weaving strands of Keith’s thick hair together, humming a song that he hopes conveys a mix of smug and happy. It doesn’t take him long to finish the hair, poking Keith in the side with his foot when he needs one of the many hairbands on Keith’s wrist. “All done! You look adorable.”

“I am supposed to look cool,” Keith grumbles. He reaches back and pats his head, tracing his fingers over the woven strands. “But I suppose I will indulge you.”

“You do that a lot.”

Lance means it to be teasing, to make Keith roll his eyes in exasperation and maybe smack Lance with a pillow. That’s what he’d usually do.

But that doesn’t happen. Instead Keith leans back onto Lance’s legs, reaching up to grab one of Lance’s hands, and squeezes once, twice, three times in quick succession.

“Yeah,” he says, voice soft and eyes warm and sparkling. “I do.”

Lance flushes, pushing down the giggles bubbling up his throat. “We had a deal, you scoundrel. Not on my birthday. You are making this very hard.”

Keith turns around to face Lance and grins teasingly. “That’s my goal, Blue.” He crawls up onto the couch, leaning right into Lance’s space, so close their breathing mingles together. “I’m good at the long con, Leandro. And I’ve only got to wait ‘till midnight.”

“So actually wait until midnight then, Romeo,” Lance teases, but his voice is breathy. “Weren’t you calling me the impatient one, earlier?”

“Mhm, sure, and –”

“Oh, Lance, I want braids too! Dibs on being next!”

At the sound of Allura’s voice, Lance shoves Keith off him on reflex, who tumbles to the floor with a yelp. “Sorry,” Lance says with a wince, glancing down at Keith’s sprawled form.

“Really feeling the love,” he says drily. Lance rolls his eyes and turns back to Allura.

“Come sit, ‘Llura. I’ll braid while we wait for everyone else. We can talk shit about Keith while we do it. He’s been very dramatic, lately, have you noticed?”

He braids Allura’s hair, and then Pidge’s, to the backdrop of Keith whining about not getting enough attention (he’d rather die than admit it, but Keith is like one of those cats who hisses when you touch it but then sits on your laptop and refuses to move, even when you have gigantic essay that you left until last minute and only have twenty minutes to finish). Shiro comes in at some point and narrows in immediately on Keith’s sprawled form, deciding to pull a Lilo & Stitch and flop over Keith to drive him insane.

It’s hilarious.

“Where’s Hunk and Coran?” Lance asks once he ties a pink bow to the end of Pidge’s braids. He tries to keep the impatience out of his voice, but it doesn’t work too well, judging on the knowing grins on his friends’ faces.

“Getting your presents,” Allura says, unable to stay calm any longer. “All of them!”

“Well, I’m trying to, but this damn thing is heavier than you are and fourteen times more dangerous, Lance. Well, unless you’re armed.”

Lance whips towards the door, where Hunk is painstakingly trying to lug a truly magnificently sized potted plant into the room, Coran skipping into the room with a massive armful of gifts right after him.

Lance gasps. He rolls right off the couch, barely missing elbowing Shiro in the face, slamming on the floor first before somersaulting to his feet and rushing over to Hunk.

“Did you bring me a friend?”

“It’s a Dilofius surtus, or essentially a space venus flytrap,” Hunk explains, both to Lance – who is paying about 3% attention to Hunk and 97% attention to the most gorgeous, toothy, sharp, slimy, wonderful new friend in the universe – and their very amused friends. “I know you miss your danger plants back home. This one spits venom, so I figured you’d be particularly fond of it.”

“Oh, look at this darling girl!” Lance coos. He runs a finger over the curve of one of the biting heads, laughing delightedly when it snaps at him. “She’s so playful! I love her so much. Hunk, you have been replaced as my best friend. Yes, Clarita, you are! You are my new best friend, beautiful girl!”

“Why do you think he’s like this?” Pidge asks the room.

Hunk presses a kiss to Lance’s hair, whispering a “happy birthday, you dorkus,” and then walks over to the couches. “He has a thing for strays. When we had car rides that drove past any kind of alley, someone had to be tasked with keeping him distracted so he wouldn’t look out the window and catch sight of a homeless dog, or whatever. Going on walks after the rain was impossible because he would stop to pick up every worm.”

“– oh you sweet thing, look at your teeth!”

“Lance, dear,” Coran calls. He pats the seat next to him. “Come open the rest of your gifts. You can play with the death plant later.”

“‘Kay,” Lance says, pressing a kiss to one of the heads and skipping over to the seat Coran patted. He throws his feet in Hunk’s lap, beaming at him brightly. “Hunk, I love you. You know me so well. I love you double. You are the bestest. You are –”

He’s cut off by a small box sailing through the air and nailing him in the face.

“Write Hunk a letter about how great he is later,” Pidge snarks. “If we let you wax poetic all you want then we’ll be here all night, and I have a project.”

“Aw, Pidgey,” Lance says. “Is that emotions allergy acting up?”

She gets up immediately, reaching for the present. “Alrighty, I’ll be taking that right back –”

“Kidding! Kidding! Don’t take my present! Hiss!”

“Open it then, you goober.”

At her permission, Lance does, tearing through the wrapping paper and opening a metal box. Inside is a beautifully intricate bracelet, shiny silver, a stone pendant with several moons and stars carved carefully in the metal. Lance traces the delicate designs with his fingers, mouth open in shock.

“Did you…make this?”

“Press your pinky to the back of the pendant,” Pidge suggests. Lance does, and his jaw drops when it sends a projection of dozens of photos in the air in front of him; photos of the whole team after the dorky food fight, photos of him and his family, photos of all of their fun and silly and careful moments.

A selfie of him and Pidge, cheeks pressed together, grinning so wide their eyes are nearly squeezed shut, ecstatic after finally getting one of Pidge’s projects to work.

“Pidge…” Lance says, chin trembling.

“Do not cry,” she demands, eyes already wet, “because if you cry, I’ll cry, and then we’ll both look dumb and my eyeliner will run –”

“C’mere!” Lance wails, pulling her close and hugging her tightly. Pidge squeezes his ribs just as tightly, burying her wet face into his shoulder.

“I know I don’t always say it, but I love you,” she whispers. “You’re my best friend and my brother. I’m glad you’re up here with me.”

“Me, too,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She sniffs, pulling away and decking him lightly in the arm to offset the mush. “It’s powered by a thin crystal wire that runs through the metal, so it’ll never die or need charging or anything. If you want more pictures, ask me, I’ll add ‘em for you.”

Lance grins. “Thank you, Pidge.”

“Me next!” Allura calls. She crawls over the couch (and several people, including poor Shiro and Hunk, who both make faces of choked back pain when Allura’s wayward elbows dig into their flesh), grabbing a sparkly pink box and thrusting it forward. “Happy Birthday!”

Lance beams at her, ripping open the sparkly paper – getting sparkles all over Coran and Hunk as well as himself – and takes the lid off a cardboard box.

“Are these – Earth movies?”

“Yes!” Allura cheers. “You’ve talked so much about how much you love movies, so I’ve stopped by the Earth store every movement and gathered up whatever’s available!”

It’s the most random assortment of movies Lance has ever seen. A couple animated classes, several black-and-white old Hollywoods, more foreign – can he still call them foreign in space? – films than he can count.

“Allura, you are the queen of my heart. I adore you.”

She laughs, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “We will watch them all together, and you can tell me all about the strange history!”

“I can’t wait, ‘Llura. Oh, you’re gonna absolutely love Anastasia. It’s magical.”

Next is Coran, who wrapped his present so complexly that he has to put on his reading glasses to help Lance unravel it.

“You got him…rocks?” Shiro asks, tilting his head in confusion. Lance squeals, flapping his hands rapidly.

“A rock shelf! With fancy shmancy labels! Oh, Coran, you’re the best!” He leans over – bent nearly in half – to carefully inspect every single rock, face going serious as takes in every detail.

“One more thing, dear,” Coran says. He hands Lance a leather necklace with a small, smooth pink stone on it. Lance takes it and puts it over his head immediately.

“What is it?” he asks, looking at it curiously.

“It’s calcified quintessence,” Coran explains. “A rock nearly as old as the universe itself. It lines up with your energy. It will absorb your energy, reflecting back your highest energy when you need it.”

“Cool! A space mood ring!” Lance slips it under his shirt, over his heart. He leans into Coran’s gentle pat on the head, and then Shiro clears his throat.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, passing Lance a bag. He looks shy, embarrassed. “I did my best, but it’s kind of goofy-looking.”

Lance shoots him a smile, then yanks the tissue paper out of the bag, tossing it at Pidge to hear her grumble at him. When he reaches in the bag, he touches something soft, and then he’s pulling out what can only be described as the ugliest stuffed shark he’s ever seen. It’s grey in some places, patched in others, with misplaced fins and wonky eyes. The stitching is sloppy and wide, stuffing spilling out in some places.

Lance bursts into tears.

Again.

Shiro startles. “Oh, Lance, I know it’s ugly, I’m sorry –”

“I love him so much,” he sobs. He hugs the shark to his chest, squeezing as tightly as he can and rocking back and forth. He tries to find the words to reassure Shiro that he has nothing to worry about, and Lance loves it, but the words are caught in his throat. He looks at Shiro with wet eyes, trying to convey his gratitude, trying to express how happy he is to finally have something soft to sleep with again, how it would fit right at home with all his other stuffies; the rejects he couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“Aw, kiddo, c’mere.”

Lance does, bawling, crawling into Shiro’s arms and letting the man smooth back his bangs and press a kiss to his forehead.

“You – you listened, when I told you about the –”

“Of course I listened, dork. That’s the whole point of this family thing. You look sad about not having a myriad of stuffed animals, I make you one, although my sewing skills leave something to be desired.”

Lance sniffles. “I like it better ugly.”

“Because no one else will love it?” Shiro asks, grinning wryly.

“Mhm.”

Lance stays safe in Shiro’s arms for a while, collecting himself and taking a quick breather from all the excitement. His day has been wonderful, there’s no mistaking it, but it’s been long and there’s been a lot of it.

“You good now?” Shiro whispers. Lance nods, pulling away.

Time for one more.

He turns to Keith, who’s grinning softly at him, holding a long, thin box.

“Happy birthday, Blue.”

Lance takes the box, wiping his eyes and smiling.

“Thanks, Red.”

He carefully pries open the box, having to wiggle it a bit when the corner gets stuck.

What’s inside takes his breath away.

“A knife?” Lance asks quietly.

“I know you’re a gun guy,” Keith says. “But – I’ve been using Hunk’s scrap metal for the past few months to make it, so I made sure it’s balanced and everything, and this way if you ever get cornered you’ll have another line of defense. And I figured you and me could train with it –”

“Keith,” Lance says breathlessly, “shut up.” He surges forward and practically tackles Keith in a hug, squeezing him tightly and trying so hard not to cry again. “You made me a knife. You nerd.”

Lance doesn’t need to see him to know he’s rolling his eyes.

“Nerd who wants to make sure you can protect yourself, maybe.”

Eventually Hunk pulls Lance off, depositing him on the couch and throwing a blanket over his shoulders. Hunk squishes him from one side, Keith on the other, everyone else squeezing themselves around him somehow. They watch the movies Allura got him, joking and teasing, laughing with each other and teasing anyone at any given time. One by one, everyone drops off to sleep – starting with Coran, who dropped off somewhere around movie number one – until the only ones left art the eternal insomniacs themselves: Keith and Lance.

“Hey, Lance,” Keith whispers, readjusting the arm he has over the back of the couch. “Guess what.”

“What?”

“It’s five past midnight.”

“Hm? Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Lance. Hey. Look at me.”

Lance does, turning his head to face Keith, resting on Keith’s extended arm. Keith is grinning, widely, brightly, sparkling.

“It’s not your birthday anymore, sweetheart.”

It takes Lance a moment to get it – look, he’s been awake for so long his neurons are barely firing – but when he does, his smile matches, just as excited. Butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees.

Keith’s hand comes down to cup Lance’s face. “Is five minutes past midnight long enough to satisfy your specialness requirements, your highness?”

Lance leans into the hand, tangling his fingers in Keith’s shirt and pulling him closer.

“It is,” he whispers.

“Good,” Keith whispers back, and their lips finally touch.

It’s the best present of them all.

96 notes · View notes

glitterp0prhaps0dy · 20 days

Text

oooo~ Barbie has a crush

Barb savored her pancakes, each bite filled with the sweet blend of orange and red sprinkles, and melty chocolate chips within. She enjoyed this delightful breakfast in the living room, her attention occasionally captured by a romance movie playing on the TV. The concept of romance sparked a curious wonder in her mind.

Next to her, her vibrant and eccentric best friend, Carol, was fast asleep, emitting soft snores. Glancing over, Barb's smile grew tender at the sight of her resting friend. Suddenly, she felt a warmth spreading across her cheeks. Was she blushing? Confused and slightly flustered, Barb quickly shook her head, trying to dispel the unexpected thought.

Barb's fingers nervously found her mouth, her nails a temporary distraction as she tried to make sense of her feelings. A bead of sweat trailed down her forehead. "This... this has been happening way too often... Oh, no," she silently panicked, her blush deepening despite her efforts to quell it. Overwhelmed and feeling unusually warm, she hurried upstairs, her pace quick and frantic. She burst through her bedroom door, rushed in, and slammed it shut behind her.

The sudden noise startled Floyd awake from a deep sleep. He groaned, irritation flashing across his face as he shot a glare in Barb's direction. But she was too caught up in her own turmoil to notice. Standing in front of the mirror, Barb was visibly stressed, her face flushed with heat. She tugged at her mohawk in a desperate attempt to distract herself from the tumult of emotions swirling inside her.

Floyd, meanwhile, could only watch in confusion, completely bewildered by the unexpected and intense display of distress from Barb.

Floyd exhaled deeply before addressing the obvious turmoil in the room. "You alright? You seem... uh... pretty stressed."

At his words, Barb slowly pivoted her head towards him, her eyes wide and bewildered, lips pressed into a tight line. Suddenly, the word burst from her like a dam breaking. "NO!" she yelled.

Launching into a passionate tirade, Barb paced back and forth, her words tumbling out in a frenzied rush. "I just... I don't get it, okay? My head's been all over the place lately, and I feel like I'm on this rollercoaster of emotions that just won't stop! Every little thing is making my heart race, and I've got this weird, jittery feeling in my stomach that won't go away. And the worst part? I don't even know why!"

She paused, taking a deep, ragged breath, her hands flailing expressively as she struggled to articulate her inner chaos. "It's like, I'm always hot and then cold, and sometimes I catch myself staring off into space, daydreaming, and then I snap out of it and feel all embarrassed and... and flustered. Flustered! Over what, right? It's ridiculous."

Barb halted her pacing, a look of genuine perplexity etched across her face. "And the weirdest part of all this? It's happening a lot... around... well, just, people. Specific people. And it's driving me insane because I can't make heads or tails of it. I've never felt this way before, and it's freaking me out!"

She threw her hands up in a gesture of defeat, her energy momentarily spent. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just all over the place, and I can't even pinpoint why. It's like I'm feeling things I've never felt, and it's scary, okay? It's really, really scary."

Floyd watched, a mix of concern and confusion on his face, as Barb's torrent of words finally dwindled to a halt, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Floyd, catching on to a thread in Barb's chaotic outpouring of emotions, probed gently, his voice soft yet curious, "What... kind of people?"

Barb, initially taken aback by the question, began to pace again, her agitation rekindled by the inquiry. "It's just, you know, people who are always around, making me feel all these things I can't explain. They're just... there, and every time they're near, my whole body reacts in ways I don't understand. My heart races, I get all sweaty and nervous, and I find myself wanting to be near them but also wanting to run away at the same time."

She waved her arms expressively, her frustration mounting. "And it's not just anyone, okay? It's these... individuals who have this way of looking at you, like they really see you, and it makes my stomach do flips. They're just so... so compelling in a way that I can't ignore, even if I try. And their laughter, oh, their laughter just resonates in a way that makes me want to hear it over and over again."

Barb stopped pacing, her expression one of bewildered revelation as she continued, her voice a notch quieter but no less intense. "And it's their strength, their kindness, the way they carry themselves with such confidence and yet have this incredible softness. It's... it's overwhelming. They make me feel safe but also so incredibly vulnerable at the same time."

She sighed deeply, a sense of resignation washing over her as she finally faced the heart of her turmoil. "And the thing is, it's not just any kind of people. It's... it's women. I'm feeling all of this... for women. And I don't know what to do with all these feelings. It's like I'm discovering a part of me I didn't even know existed, and it's terrifying but also... exhilarating?" Barb's voice trailed off, leaving her confession hanging in the air between them.

"This," Floyd began, a note of understanding in his voice, "explains some of the questions and reactions you've had." Barb looked puzzled, prompting him to continue. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Floyd chuckled lightly, an edge of warmth in his tone. "Well, remember when you asked about my earring and what it meant about me? And not to mention, you asked about Riff and his handkerchief in his back pocket. Whenever these topics are brought up, you run away all embarrassed," he explained, gently prodding her to see the pattern in her actions.

"Your interest in others' sexuality might have been you subconsciously telling yourself something about yourself," he continued, his voice gentle, trying to guide her through her confusion without overwhelming her.

Barb paced a little, digesting Floyd's words. "But I... I didn't mean—I just thought I was being curious. You know, about everyone and everything," she stammered, her stress evident in the way she avoided his gaze.

Floyd nodded, understanding her turmoil. "Curiosity is normal, Barb. But sometimes, it's also a window into what we're trying to figure out about ourselves. It's okay to explore these feelings, to question them. It doesn't make you any less of you; it just means you're learning more about yourself."

"But what if I don't like what I find? What if it changes everything?" Barb's voice was thick with worry, her usual confidence replaced by vulnerability.

"It might change some things," Floyd admitted softly. "But the people who really matter, your true friends, won't love you any less. They might even love you more for being honest with yourself and with them. And as for liking what you find... you might be surprised. Discovering new parts of yourself can be scary, but it's also incredibly brave and beautiful."

Barb sighed, a tentative smile forming as she absorbed his words. "I just... I don't know where to start. I'm scared of getting it wrong, of how it changes how I see myself."

Floyd reached out, offering a reassuring smile. "You start where you are, with what you feel. There's no right or wrong way to be you. Just be honest with yourself, and take it one day at a time. And remember, you're not alone. You've got friends, you've got me, who'll stand barb let floyds words sink in, but she was still scared "But what if what I find isn't me, what if I believe it's me and then later on I realize it’s not," she asked

Floyd nodded, his expression understanding. "That's a part of the journey, Barb. Discovering who we are isn't a one-time thing; it's continuous, evolving as we grow and learn more about ourselves. It's okay to explore and even embrace different parts of yourself, only to realize later on that maybe they don't fit anymore. That doesn't mean you were wrong—it means you're growing."

He paused, ensuring Barb was following, then continued. "It's like trying on clothes. Sometimes, you think you love something, so you wear it for a while. But then, as time goes on, you might not feel the same about it. That doesn't invalidate the time you spent loving it or mean you were lying to yourself. It just means you've changed, and that's not only okay, it's normal."

Barb looked at him, her eyes reflecting the tumult of emotions inside her. "But change can be scary," she whispered.

"It can be," Floyd agreed. "But it can also be exciting. Discovering new things about yourself, what you like, what you don't, who you want to be—that's all part of living. And remember, no matter what you discover or how many times you change, you're still you. And you're not alone. You've got people who care about you, ready to support you through every step of this journey."

Hearing this, Barb felt a weight lift slightly from her shoulders. The path ahead might be uncertain, but knowing she had support made it less daunting. "Thanks, Floyd," she said, a small but genuine smile forming. "I guess figuring out who I am is just another adventure, huh?"

"Exactly," Floyd smiled back. "And it's one adventure you don't have to go on alone."

Barb glanced nervously towards the door, then peeked outside to ensure they were still alone, with Carol asleep downstairs. She then returned to the room, a hesitant confession on the tip of her tongue. "These feelings... they usually hit me when I'm around Carol—" she abruptly let slip.

"OH MY GOD!?!" Floyd couldn't contain his shock, almost shouting in his surprise. "OUT OF EVERYONE, WHY THE MANIAC!?!"

"I... I don't know," Barb admitted, her voice a mix of confusion and a hint of desperation.

#trolls #trolls au #dreamworks trolls #trolls world tour #trolls floyd #trolls barb #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq #trolls carol #trolls fanfiction #trolls fanfic #trolls fandom

12 notes · View notes

0nlythrowharrybeaux · 8 months

Text

Wonderful World - Part 16^

Sorry it's taken me forever, I appreciate your patience! No warnings for this one, the only angst is just about Diana & Harry's sadness for not being able to be together.

Series Masterlist!

WC: 11.5k

Celeste was more than excited to be at band camp for the next four weeks. Her first few days were a bit weird as she was adjusting; the mattresses on the bunk beds were too hard and the actual structures would creak if you moved around too much. The nights were a lot colder than she anticipated, so she was glad her mom had forced her to pack two sweatshirts. She’d never had to use a communal shower before and it had been a very different experience as some of the older girls were so confident in just walking around in their underwear or weren’t all that self-conscious about their boobs showing for a second before putting on their bras or tops. She and Geri had been so good about making little changing rooms for each other out of their towels and even would wear cover-ups despite their (one-piece bathing suits) on the days they’d get to use the pool. Ben didn’t seem to mind it though, he always seemed excited to see her during the free activities time and they’d have plenty to talk about after their instrument lessons. And now, they were sat around the camp fire, some people were playing and singing songs right up front. She had chosen a seat closer to the back with Geri, Ozzy, Ben, and a couple more kids from their school.

She and Ozzy were currently singing along to “Just the Way You Are” when Ben came up with a plate of s’mores for their small group. Everyone took one before he sat down beside her and laughed softly.

“You’ve got marshmallow all over your chin.” He said and she groaned and rubber her hand along it, feeling the little strings being rolled into little crumbs with the friction.

“Thanks.” She said and he nodded before biting into his own deliciously melty treat.

She continued singing along with Ozzy who then encouraged her to join the choir at school next year and she immediately declined. Ben also encouraged her, telling her she sang really well and she was all bashful as she shook off his compliment. They hadn’t really held hands directly in front of her friends before, but they really wanted to and kept exchanging these looks that were making her tummy flutter in the best way. The continued making conversation as a group, but she was moving further into Ben’s side. Not only because she was cold, but because she just wanted to be near him. When Geri and Ozzy started talking to one of their other friends from the brass section Ben immediately turned to her.

“So how has your first week been?” He asked softly.

“Really good. I like my teachers, our camp counselor is also really cool with us, she’s a music major in college. I didn’t know you could do that.” She said and Ben also looked surprised at this as they got to talking even more. He also shared about his own week and about the friends he’d made with his cabin-mates and all the while they were just slowly being sucked into their own little world.

Celeste literally felt like there were currents of electricity constantly traveling through her body when Ben would smile. She felt floaty and like her heart would leap out of her chest when his leg would lightly brush hers. She was getting impatient to have more of him and so she just interrupted a story he was telling her to ask him her question.

“M’sorry to interrupt you, but can I ummm…can I hold your hand?” She asked in the smallest voice and his smiled went wide.

“Yes, of course.” He responded to her eagerly and soon their hands were connected as their fingers intertwined into each others on her lap and she smiled up at him happily before nuzzling into his side to stay warm, “Y’smell really nice.” He hummed and she moved away to look up at him.

“Yeah? You like it?” She asked and he nodded with a timid smile, “OK.” She smiled before nestling back into his side. Suddenly a gust of wind came and everyone groaned and whinged and she buried herself closer to him.

“Hold on.” Ben hummed and released her hand before shrugging off the wind breaker he had on, “Let me give you my crewneck, this other jacket is pretty warm.” He said and she smiled at him bashfully.

“Are you sure?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” He insisted and stood to tear off his crewneck. He did have a shirt on underneath it, so he was layered enough to stay warm, while she was just in a long-sleeved shirt that she had packed by pure coincidence because her sweaters were dirty after being worn all week.

“Thank you so much.” She hummed as he helped her get it on, they both giggled as she struggled to find the arm hole.

“Here, I’ve got it.” He smiled and held it out for her to get her arm through.

“Thanks.” She said as she glanced up at him, he was so close and there was a new and tense flinging between them as they just looked into each other’s eyes.

“Celeste, do you want to come to the bathroom with us?” One of the girls sitting with their group asked, causing her to turn around and break eye contact with Ben.

“Yes, actually!” She said with a smile and then turned around with a big smile, “I’ll be right back.” She said to Ben and he nodded before he watched her scurry off with Geri and the other girl, Sierra. He then turned to Ozzy and sighed.

“Oz, do you think Celeste’s mom would let her date?” He asked and Ozzy smiled.

“Ummm, I think so? Miss Beltran is pretty cool.” He shrugged and Ben nodded.

“OK.”

“So you like her a lot?” Ozzy asked. He was protective of Celeste and Geri, they had been friends since the fourth grade and he just wanted to make sure that no one would be messing with their feelings.

“Yeah, I do. I want to get to know her a bit more over camp and hopefully by the time we get back there’s been enough of that to be able to ask her to be my girlfriend.” He explained and this made Ozzy happy for Celeste, especially after the year she’d had.

“What made you like her?” He asked and Ben smiled.

“Well after what…happened to her at school,” he started and Ozzy nodded with a slight frown, “I saw her being nice to the girl that had been bullying her one time by the practice rooms.” He explained, “And I just thought that was really cool of her and then when she came with your group to the dance I knew she was being for real about being nice to her. My brother’s girlfriend’s sister is in her friend group and I heard they basically unfriended her when she came out to them.” He said and Ozzy nodded in confirmation, “But like after everything she did to Celeste I think she kind of deserved it, you know? But it was just really cool to see her not stoop to that level. I have older sisters as well so I’ve seen and heard a lot of the girl drama and how petty they can be towards each other. Like I know it can get pretty bad, so it was nice to see she’s not like that and that was what made me like her more. I mean apart from her being so…fucking beautiful….” He confessed nervously and Ozzy smiled. “You’ve never liked either of your friends?” Ben asked.

“I mean I think they’re both pretty, and well, I did have a crush on Celeste in middle school.” He admitted, “But it went away really fast because I got a bit closer to Geri since we had more periods together and started liking her.” He said, “But I think I was more afraid to lose them as friends and then when we got to high school I started going out with a girl from choir after I asked her to homecoming, but I don’t really see them like that anymore. They’re more like sisters to me now.” He explained and Ben nodded in understanding.

“Well you’re a good friend for looking out for them, Oz.”

“Thanks. I mean, they look out for me just as much, so it’s nice when the friendships aren’t one-sided.” He smiled and Ben nodded in agreement.

“Well I just see how close you guys are and I just want you to know that if Celeste does want to go out with me I don’t want to like…just take her away from you guys. I mean, hopefully we can all get to know each other and be friends as well. Like I know we’re cool, but like I’ve kind of seen how my older sister kind of forgot about us after getting a boyfriend and now she never visits from college.” He chuckled, “Like I get that when you like someone that much you want to be around them all the time, but like I think it’s also not cool to just abandon everyone over a boyfriend or girlfriend, so I just wanted you to know that.” Ben said and Ozzy thanked him for seeing that and being mindful of it.

The two continued talking about more things as they got to know each other a bit better until the girls came back and soon Celeste was back beside Ben, fingers intertwined as they started to tell spooky stories around the campfire.

***********

Diana’s week had been miserable, she was kind of happy that Celeste had forgotten about her for the last couple of days because she had spent them in bed mostly, nursing her aching heart. She would only climb out and sleek her hair back into a haphazard bun for her online lectures. She had forgone makeup, even her mascara, for the whole week which was a huge deal because she always put in some sort of effort, but she just didn’t have the capacity at the moment.

Diana hadn’t felt this kind of sadness and disappointment in years. She had recently felt like she had been able to fully accept and move on from Wesley and what had happened to him and now this? It wasn’t fair and for the sake of transparency, it depressed her. She felt like she was destined to be alone. And this whole time her emotions had been swelling as she watched “Comet”, this film always did the job…right person, wrong time, the what if’s, the squandered possibilities…she couldn’t hold her tears back anymore and she just started to sob as she watched the characters on screen accept defeat. She knew their kind of pain, she understood the way he looked at her with such hopelessness, but there was still a hint of happiness because the person he loved had found what they’d both been looking for…it ruined her and perpetuated her pain and it felt so good to just sob loudly and feel the pangs of hurt pulsing through her pains, making her clutch to the long sleeves of her crewneck tightly before she just brought one up and wiped under her nose without a care in the world for it being gross. She couldn’t even see her screen from how many tears were blurring her vision, and suddenly she regretted even indulging in a comfort meal because her stomach was twisting from how gut-wrenching the pain of a failed love felt as the credits rolled.

“So fucking stupid…” she muttered to herself as she shoved the covers off of her body and made her way into the bathroom to pee, “It’s not like I haven’t seen the fucking movie a bajillion times…” she whispered to herself as she blew her nose in the meantime. When she got up to the vanity to wash her hands she looked at her reflection and felt so fucking pathetic about it all. And then her doorbell started ringing and she groaned and dried her hands before getting her slippers on and rushing downstairs in her dark home. The sun had just set, so there was some visibility, but it was dwindling quickly. And when she looked through the peephole and saw Grace looking all cute and dressed up she groaned and quickly swung the door open. “I’m so sorry I totally forgot about our plans.” She said immediately and Grace frowned a bit as she took in her best friend’s appearance.

Diana was hardly one to be messy and disheveled, but here she was looking a total wreck, something akin to when they first met, at that time Diana was working two jobs, going to school full-time, caring for a 9 month old baby, and still grieving her first love. Understandably, she was a wreck. Grace’s featured softened as she took in her friend and just stepped forward and hugged her tight, which led Diana to break down once again.

“I’m OK. I’m OK. I’m OK.” She whispered over and over as she stayed in her embrace. Grace had no idea if she was saying this to appease her or herself and it made her heart break for her as she pulled back to look into her tearful and swollen eyes.

“Yeah, you will be.” She said to her and Diana just nodded before sniffling.

“Please, just go without me. I’m not even ready and like, as much as I wish I could get drunk, I don’t think I have the energy to be at the bar right now.” She said and Grace offered a kind smile.

“Yeah, I get that. How about we bring the bar to you?” She asked and Diana sighed.

“Don’t ruin your night for me…” she assured and Grace nodded.

“We’re not ruining it, s’just a little modification to the plan. We can go and get changed into something more casual, pick up some food and some alcohol, make drinks, play some games? Maybe even have a sleep over if you’re cool with that?” She suggested, “We’ll be back in an hour or so, give you some time to mentally prepare for company and to freshen up.” She said and Diana sniffled.

“If we’re doing a sleepover why do I need to freshen up?” She mumbled as she wiped at her teary eyes with her sleeve.

“I love you so much so I’ll be honest with you.” She said and Diana sniggered through her sniffles, “Your hair reeks of dry shampoo and you’ve got snot all over your sleeve, and about three different stains on your sweater so I know you’ve gotten at least a week’s worth of use out of this guy.” She said tugging at the fabric of her crewneck and Diana started to laugh softly as Grace smiled at her friend.

“S’my emotional support crewneck.” She excused and Grace smiled, “And showering just seemed really hard, m’sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Di. I mean, at least you don’t smell like B.O. or ass.” She said and that made the two laugh again, “So what do you say to the change of plans, hmmm?” She asked and after contemplating it for a moment Diana nodded.

“Yeah, could use some company.” She said and Grace nodded.

“OK.”

“Also, please let Henry know that he absolutely does not need to be part of this. I’m sure he’s been dealing with Harry as well.” She said and Grace’s smile dropped a bit.

“Ummm, actually we haven’t really spoken to him since the whole voicemail thing. He said he needed some time or something and apparently he moved up his vacation and flew back to England for a couple weeks.” She said and Diana frowned a bit.

“Oh, well I hope he’s doing OK.” She said softly.

“Yeah, me too.” She said. And after finalizing their plans Grace headed off and Diana immediately headed to the kitchen to take out her garbage and also wash the dishes that had been collected there over the week and then she hurried up to have a shower.

Everything was more or less back in order by the time Grace and Henry got back honestly, she had a great time with the two. They played the What Do You Meme game, which had them all in stitches and then played a drinking game as they watched a TV show and honestly, it had definitely helped to life her spirits. In her drunkenness she sent a short vide to Celeste of the three of them together being silly and playfully scolding her for not texting her for the last couple of days and then they ended up texting back and forth for a bit before it was “lights out” for Celeste.

They all went to bed around 1:30am quite drunk off their asses, but when Diana woke up a couple hours later, throat feeling absolutely dry and body aching from drinking while dehydrated she quietly rolled out of bed and quietly made her way downstairs. She squinted when she saw that the kitchen light was already on and she heard some hushed talking, it was Henry. She crept down lower and decided to eavesdrop because this might be the only news she’d get about Harry. She assumed it was Harry because who else would be in a timezone that required Henry to be on a phone call at nearly 4am. She was now standing quietly around the corner as she heard him humming as he listened to whatever was being said.

“Well I get why you might need a little distance from here right now, H. But I just want to remind you that everything’s still gonna be here when you come back, you know? Like if you’re going to continue seeing Celeste you’ll still have to face Diana…you’re having an existential crisis over Diana?” He asked and then went silent again, “Wait. Hold on, hold on, hold on… Rebecca’s pregnant?” Henry asked in shock and this made Diana’s stomach sink and for a lump to form in her throat. She couldn’t help it when she hurried into the kitchen with shock in her eyes.

“Rebecca’s pregnant?” Diana asked with a frown and tearful eyes, as soon as Henry heard her, he whipped around.

“Shit. H, I have to call you back…yes, it’s her. I’ll call you back!” He said before hanging up and hurrying to Diana as her tears started to trickle down her cheeks, “S’not what it sounds like.” He said right away and she shook her head.

“I think that’s exactly what it sounds like, Henry…” she said as she walked past him and to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

“Well Rebecca being pregnant yes, but it has nothing to do with Harry, he hasn't done anything to his vasectomy." he assured her, "She’s having a baby with Eddie, they’re engaged.” He explained and that made relief flood through her body and she literally felt her body relax.

“Oh.” She said and Henry smiled at her just a bit, “Nearly had a heart attack. I’m sorry for eavesdropping, I just came to get some water.” She explained herself.

“It’s alright.” He said softly and they both glanced down to his phone on the counter as a surge texts started coming in. “Shit, I think I freaked him out. Shouldn’t have said it was you.” He said as he reached for it and she sighed as she opened up the water bottle and drank as Henry started texting away, assuring Harry that he had clarified the information to Diana. “He said that he’s having an existential crisis over you and that whole thing with Rebecca. Says they ran into each other at a pizza parlor and decided to catch up. He was caught off guard because she had been so strict about them following her timeline and whatnot that like it makes him wonder if maybe she just didn’t really want anything serious with him. And that after having that conversation with you about things not working out it just made him feel a bit hopeless about his own future and he just wanted to go distract himself for a bit.” He said as he read Harry’s texts to her.

“Yeah, I get that.” She said as she set the water bottle down after closing it. She watched as he glanced down at his phone as it chimed softly again, indicating another text had come in and he saw his eyes soften a bit as he read over the words but decided not to tell her anything about that one and he just started texting back quickly before his eyes met hers again.

“That one was for you, but I don’t think it’ll help to hear what he said.” Henry explained and she bit her lip to suppress her frown and she nodded.

“Just don’t tell him how big of a wreck I’ve been, OK? Don’t want him to feel bad or like it’s his fault.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” He assured and she sighed. “I feel so stupid for just…continuing on, pretending like we ever had a chance, you know?”

“If it helps, he feels the same. He feels more responsible because he feels like he lied to you and gave you false hopes since he knew the risks the whole time. I think he wants you to be angry at him for it, for keeping that from you.”

“I can’t be angry at him for that…it wouldn’t be fair, we both know better.” She said quietly. “Celeste was telling me that she hopes he can be her therapist for as long as he can, kind of like how I’ve been with my own therapist.” She explained, “And like…I’m really scared that I’m gonna love him forever and always be… like this.” She said and he frowned.

“I mean…if that’s the case with Celeste then maybe there’ll be someone else for each of you?” He suggested with hope and she smiled politely.

“Maybe…” She responded unenthusiastically because she didn’t want that. She wanted the way he made her feel. She wanted the way he loved her and appreciated her. She wanted the love and care he had for Celeste. She didn’t want anyone else, she wanted him.

“I know that it must hurt, but you’re doing the right thing, the hard thing. You’re so strong, Diana-”

“You know, I’m so sick of hearing that, Henry. I’m tired of being strong.” She said to him, “I’m tired of always hurting. I’m tired of having to be the brave one and of having to think of others before myself all the fucking time…I’ve just…I’ve been losing for so long.” Her voice cracked as her tears started to fall down her cheeks, “It’s not fair.” She whispered and Henry frowned as he saw her facade completely crumble, “I don’t know how long I can go on like this.” She inhaled sharply, “I can’t even talk to my fucking therapist about this without risking Harry losing his job…” she said as she gasped for air through her tears, “Like it’s just so, so lonely.” She whimpered and he just put his phone down and hugged her tight wordlessly.

Henry didn’t know what to do except to just hold her. There really was nothing to say, she was giving and giving and giving and never getting anything in return and the moment someone was starting to give back it had to blow up in her face. He knew that Harry loved her and that he loved Celeste. And somehow, this was all in her little 15-year-old hands, but she had no idea and well, how could they ask Celeste to just change her dynamic with Harry when he had been of an immense support to her as her therapist. If they were to become a family their dynamic wouldn’t be the same, it would change drastically and of course they couldn’t ask that of her. And it’s not like Harry and Diana planned to fall for each other, like all of the perfect things in life, it just happened effortlessly.

“God, we were barely anything…this is ridiculous. Doesn’t warrant this reaction.” She said as she reached up to wipe at her tears and he pulled back from their hug. He wanted to tell her that what she and Harry felt for each other was the real thing, but he didn’t. Sometimes you just have to tell yourself things like that in order to cope better with the loss of it, so he didn’t say anything about it. “Thank you for listening to me.” She finally said and he nodded, “Sorry for interrupting your call with Harry.” She sniffled.

“S’alright, he gets it.” Henry assured and she smiled lightly.

“Alright, m’gonna go back to bed, but thank you again for staying over with Grace and trying to cheer me up, I need to get that meme game for Celeste.” She said and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get one for her for Christmas.” He said and she chuckled.

“You know, she’s really lucky to have you guys.” Diana exhaled, “As am I.” She said with a small smile before she made her way back upstairs.

**********

Harry was a completely nervous wreck as he waited for Henry to get back to him after what Diana had walked in on. He hoped that Henry was sharing the information he had been texting him with her so that all of the information about what was going on was clear. He stopped texting back after a few minutes and his knee was bouncing up and down impatiently as he waited for something else to come in from Henry. He was on the brink of a nervous breakdown, but thankfully the door to the office he had been occupying opened up slightly and he saw Enid, the main receptionist from his parents’ clinic peek inside.

“Mr. Styles, your parents just got in.” She informed with a kind smile and he nodded.

“Oh, great. Thanks, Enid.” he said and she just smiled politely before backing out and shutting the door. He texted Henry that he didn’t have to call back and that he’d catch up with him another day.

Harry’s parents had been speaking at a conference in Austria when he dropped in on them, so he’d been using one of the empty offices to conduct his sessions online since he had left rather abruptly. He just needed some distance between him and Diana, especially since he knew that she lived 10 minutes away at the most and was all alone since Celeste had left for camp (he’d texted her to wish her good luck). He just wanted to see Diana and hear her voice, look into her eyes, hold her…he had to go because he clearly had no resolve when it came to her. And now he’d been here for a few days and his parents were finally back. They were going to have lunch. So he closed his laptop and grabbed his phone and wallet before locking up the office and heading to his mother’s office first.

“Hey mum.” He said as he peeked in to see her logging in to her computer. She glanced up and smiled wide.

“Hi, my darling!” She greeted happily, immediately standing up and he hurried in and wrapped her smaller frame up in his arms. “How’ve you been?” She asked as she smushed her cheek against his and then reared back to look into his eyes.

“Ummm, alright I suppose.” He hummed with a smile, but as she looked into his eyes her smile dropped a bit and he was about to give her a small scolding for trying to read him like one of her clients (because they all had a rule about this), but thankfully they were interrupted by his father.

“H!” He greeted enthusiastically and Harry turned quickly and stepped into his father’s embrace.

“Dad, look at this!” Harry chuckled at his father’s new hair style, it was longer and slightly slicked back. He looked a lot more relaxed and causal than he usually did.

“Do you like it?” He asked and before Harry could let him know that he did indeed like this look on him, his mother chimed in.

“Of course he’s gonna say he likes it! But you need to snap out of this phase, Bill.”

“Phase?” Harry asked and she sighed.

“You haven’t told him, Bill?” She asked and he pouted a bit and turned to his dad who had the most unamused expression on his face.

“Heather, you’re talking about me like I’ve got a terminal illness.” He said with a slight scowl and Harry relaxed upon hearing his dad say this. He always had that fear in the back of his head since he was hardly ever around them, and maybe this reinforced the idea he always had of being more intentional of spending more time with his parents. He had no intention of ever moving back to England, but he could do more to nurture the relationship with his parents, they weren’t getting any younger.

“Well it might as well be if you’re not careful!” She warned and Harry chuckled at their bickering.

“So what is the phase?” He asked his dad with a grin.

“I’ve joined a bike club-”

“It’s a motorcycle gang!” His mother cut in and he and his dad chuckled at her exaggeration.

“It is not…and it’s not a phase, it’s a hobby.” he tutted and Harry smirked, “I thought it was neat when you tried it out and so I started to learn. It has helped though, s’given me something to do other than work. I’m trying to reduce the stress, don’t want to be taking too many medications.” He explained and Harry nodded.

“Well that’s great, dad! It’s nice you’re doing something for yourself.” Harry assured, “I haven’t ridden since university, but maybe we can have a little trek up North or even just to Brighton while I’m here?” He suggested and his father nodded.

“Yes, son. I’d really enjoy that.” He assured and Harry nodded.

“We’ll plan something.”

“Well, apart from that news…” he said, “I wanted to drop in really quickly because I was asked, quite at the last minute, to join a panel for culturally inclusive mental health training and I think it’s rather important I go, so it’ll just be you and mum for lunch.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Sounds important.”

“Very much so.” He agreed and so they all made small talk as they made their way out. His mum had their driver take them to the restaurant they would be eating at, well really it was a pub that admittedly was his family’s guilty pleasure, they had the best classics. So as they sat there eating away Harry’s mum was trying to bring up that look in his eyes as discretely as possible.

She knew that Harry loved her and his dad, but when he was growing up, their clinics started to grow exponentially and unprecedentedly and so she knew that they didn’t spend a lot of time with each other. That always weighed so heavily on their hearts because as psychologists of their caliber, they knew what children needed to flourish. And while they had given Harry everything they could to ensure he would be a well rounded and healthy individual, they just weren’t all that close on a personal level. The evidence was in the fact that he lived in another country, but he was successful there and happy. Well except now, something was on his heart and on his mind, she could see it and she wanted to help, but she had no idea if she even had the right to ask without him thinking that she was just prying or trying to psychoanalyze him.

“Darling, I’ve got to ask.” She said and he looked up from his plate, “Why are you here?” She asked and he smiled a bit.

“Well, I always visit you two in the summer-”

“Right, but you weren’t due here for another two weeks. I know you think that I’m mostly unaware of half the things on my calendar, but I always know when you’re coming for a visit.” She said and he smiled.

“I just…missed you.” He said and she sighed.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you did, as much as we have missed you, but I know that’s not it.” She said and his smile faltered a bit.

“It’s nothing serious. Just needed a little break.” He assured and she sighed.

“H, listen. I know that when you were younger your dad and I weren’t always available for you. And trust me, I really wish someone had shown me that I can be both a good mum and a great doctor-”

“You’re an incredible mum-”

“Leaving you with nannies hardly constitutes good parenting…I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been, especially when we finally had the means to.” she said with a small frown and he reached for her head. “So why should you even trust me now?” She questioned.

“No mum, don’t say that. I get why you and dad had to do what you did, you’ve helped a lot of people!”

“Yet the most important person, our only son, chose to live and ocean and a country away from us.” She said and he sighed.

“That was more about me than you. I never fit in with the people here, mum. It wasn’t because of you and dad, I mean…did you inspire me to be able to just do my own thing, of course! But I wasn’t trying to avoid you two.” He assured her.

“So why are you trying to avoid me now?” She asked and he chuckled, “Have been since you gave me that look in the office-”

“Mum, we do not psychoanalyze each other.” He reminded and she smiled.

“I’m not being a psychologist right now, H. I just want to listen and be here for you as your mum.” She said and he bit his lip, “I can see that you’re…hurting. And I just want you to know that if…it was something that you needed help with or wanted to talk about, you can trust me with it. I want to be here for you and build trust with you. I want to help make it better.” She said tentatively as her eyes met his and he bit his lip to give himself something to think about other than the hurt in his heart. And well, as much as he just wanted to escape from his problems he also felt a tug at his heart to just be vulnerable with his mother. To give her a chance to build trust with him, to build a relationship with her.

“I am hurting a bit.” He admitted and her eyes softened as he admitted this to her.

“Is it something to do with Rebecca?” She asked and his eyebrows arched up in surprise.

“Oh God, I haven’t even told you that we ended things months ago.” He said and his mother pouted, “Yeah…she slept with someone else.” He explained and her eyebrows creased, “Which was fine, I mean turns out we were both settling and I mean, we ended things on really good terms and well also because I was…kind of infatuated with someone else and I…ended up falling in love with her.” He explained, “But ummm, that’s not going to work out.” He said softly and she nodded with a sad look in her eyes.

“I see. And why is that?” She asked and he sighed.

“She’s ummm…” he chuckled dryly, hoping that she wouldn’t flip out on him. Sure she had said she was listening as a parent, not a professional, but this was pretty bad, “She’s a patient’s mum.” He said and her eyes widened a bit and there were a few moments of silence as he watched her mull over his words. And he was expecting a disappointed look or sigh before he got a proper talking to but it never came.

“Oh…” was all his mother said in surprise and he nodded.

“Trust me, I know…” he groaned quietly, “Her name is Diana.” He said and she nodded, urging him to go on, “It was literally one of those things that just happened to me absolutely involuntarily…when I looked into her eyes for the first time I just…knew that I was fucked.” He said with a genuine smile on his face and she smiled as she watched him light up as he recalled the moment he met this person. “She felt it too -er…feels it.” He explained, “We tried to…only make it about business but life just kept throwing us into the same paths. Like her best friend doesn’t believe in relationships, but then ended up dating Henry and they’re like madly in love! And she’s a professor at the university I was asked to teach at…Like we were so interconnected and it was so inevitable.” He said and she nodded as she listen. “And ummm, we told each other we loved each other and then we were going on our first date and like started talking about the outcomes of us pursuing a relationship and like I explained to her that if the wrong person found out I could…lose everything and when she learned that she just, put me first. Like she always does for others.”

“And her child?”

“Her name is Celeste, she’s just turned 15. They came to me because she was being severely bullied at school.” He explained and she frowned “She’s the most smart and talented girl! She’s so clever and so mature and just so open minded. I learn just as much from her than she does from me.” He gushed and his mum smiled at his excitement, “I ummm…I love her too and obviously, it’s impacted the way I work with her.” He said more solemnly, “And like…Diana is such a wonderful mother to her. She’s done such a great job and like I’ve been able to see pieces of me and of Diana in Celeste and I just…feel so proud of her, but I want to do right by them both. Specially Celeste, with her being a patient of mine. So far, I think I’ve been objective, but it’s getting harder to be. I just…can’t help but feel stupid for allowing this to happen. Like I should have stopped it from the start. I knew better.”

“Right, but the heart wants what it wants, H.”

“Evidently so.” He hummed with a small smile. “Her daughter is also really averse to her dating yet. She’s afraid to lose her mum and she’s also afraid to lose me and like…I can’t betray her trust like that.” He shook his head.

“Well you love her as well don’t you?” She asked and he nodded, “Then maybe tell the girl you love her too and that it’s getting harder to just treat her like any other patient. At one point that parental instinct is going to take over and it could not only create a rift between you and Celeste, but also between you and Diana. No parents likes to see other people trying to parent their children; it’s just a line that we should never cross. And well, I think she’s a bit anxiously attached to her mother with this fear of losing her. I mean, you can’t possibly be at her every beck and call for the rest of her life, so you also need to make sure that in being there for her you’re not allowing her to create the same attachment with you.” His mother expressed and well, Harry had never even considered that. “I mean, you’ve got to be honest with her because I mean…if it were to go wrong you could really hurt them both.” She said and he nodded.

“I know that, I see that. And like…I’m scared that…everything’s at stake and that I’m gonna lose them both. And I don’t want to lose them. I need them and like…I think they both need me and I would happily be what they needed.” He said and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s very justified.” She said as some silence came between them, “And just to clarify…what we’re talking about here is the possibility of you…being a father figure to this girl, right?” She asked and he sighed but nodded.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “I mean…if she’d want that. Well her and Diana.” He explained, “Like…after letting them into my heart I suddenly feel so full. I never realized how much I was just going through the motions before them.” He explained, “And like…when we’ve had the chance to…be together, the three of us,” he said and she nodded, “It just…it feels really good and I know that we’d make a great team.” He smiled and his mum smiled right back at him.

“You mean a great family.” She said and he his cheeks flushed timidly and he shrugged.

“I just don’t like to say it because…if I let it become too real of a hope and it doesn’t happen it’ll crush me. More than now.” He said solemnly and she nodded in understanding.

“I understand.” She said and squeezed his hand a bit. “I mean, it is dangerous ground you’re on, H. But I just…I don’t want you to fall into the same thing your dad and I did. I mean, I’m proud of your drive and work ethic and I am so happy that your practice is doing well-”

“Thanks to my generous investors.” He said and she chuckled.

“That’s our job as your parents, to help you and do what we can to make your dreams come true.” She smiled, “And I wish I could do something to help you with this.” She said and he smiled, “I do want you to have what you’re describing with Diana and Celeste. I think you’d be an incredible father and partner. And I just hope that it works out somehow.”

“Thanks mum.” He said and she nodded.

“So you’d be a father, but not have babies though?” She asked and he chuckled.

“No…there’s lot of babies out there already.” He explained, “And well, Diana doesn’t want any more kids either.” He said and she smiled.

“So it’s just the one for her?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s the dad? If I can ask that.” She asked.

“Yeah, of course. He ummm, he died. He was Diana’s first boyfriend, her first love, and they got together their senior year of high school and were going to different colleges and were making the most of their time together.” He explained, “So it was a total accident. But ummm, anyway, a few weeks before they were off to college a drunk driver ran a red light and killed him. She didn’t find out she was pregnant until a few months later.” He explained and his mum frowned with sympathy in her eyes.

“Oh my god, that’s horrible. What about her family?” She asked and well Harry started sharing it all with his mum and they were talking for nearly three hours and he told her everything about Diana. He could feel his heart pounding with excitement at the ability to be able to talk about her as much as he wanted.

And well, towards the end they did get into the hurt and his feelings about everything, and maybe he did have a few beers with his mum, which he never thought he would, but it was a fun time and he was feeling back to himself for at least a bit. And over dinner with his parents he couldn’t help but imagine Diana and Celeste sitting at the empty seats at the table. He just knew that she and his mum would get along just fine. And well, Harry got his own musical taste and talents from his father, so he could imagine Celeste and his dad learning to play some classic rock songs

and they could all sing along together. He could imagine her freaking out as he took her to Abbey Road Studios, he had a friend who worked there and he would surely give them a private tour. He also wanted to pose with her and Diana as they made it across the crosswalk for the infamously tacky, yet completely necessary photo op - it would make a great holiday card. And well, Harry felt kind of stuck because even when he tried to put distance between them, all he could think about was getting to have the life he wanted with them. The life he knew they all deserved.

**********

“I want him to be my first kiss.” Celeste whispered and Geri’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth as she gasped as to keep their conversation hushed. They were currently facing each other on Geri’s bed during their free time. It was raining today so all of their outside activities had been canceled and they opted to hang out in their cabin rather than attend the Avengers marathon they were putting on in the auditorium.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…I get all…fluttery in my tummy when he’s around and like…I don’t know. I just feel so out of whack around him. And like out of control! Like I need this.” She said with a giggle and Geri bit her lip as she nodded, “You’ve never felt like that?” She asked her friend and Geri shrugged and shook her head.

“Not really no.” she said with a timid smile, “I ummm…I thinking that I’m either a super late bloomer or just…not into people like that, maybe?” She explained tentatively

“I see.” Celeste nodded in understanding.

“Like…what if Ben is your first kiss and then turns out you didn’t really like him? Or like are you sure you even like him enough to want that with him?”

“I mean, I think I do?” She giggled, “I’m not sure. Even without the emotional stuff I still feel…drawn to him. Like attracted I guess?”

“Oh OK.” She nodded, “Yeah, I’m not really sure that I’ve felt that way before, like…liked someone enough to feel that.” She said and Celeste smiled.

“Well maybe you will one day?” She said hopefully and Geri smiled.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Despite Geri not relating, she let Celeste get all her fears, doubts, worries, and excitement out. She was an incredible friend and Celeste felt so lucky to have her and Ozzy by her side this whole time, especially now as she was starting to have these new feelings towards Ben. He made her feel so pretty and happy, it was so wonderful and she just couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the weeks at camp had in store for them.

*********

The weeks had dragged by for Diana, but at least Celeste only had one more week at camp. She had been mostly bound to her bedroom, but today she wanted to do something different, so after she had her dinner she decided to go to a summertime concert, a tribute to George Gershwin, it was at the university’s open air auditorium. Faculty member’s got four free tickets each season which was a pretty good deal, after the four you had to pay at a discounted price. She had reserved a spot for this show because she just wanted to do something different on her own. She always loved music but had neglected it after high school considering her boyfriend’s death, a pregnancy, and then everything after that. But she still loved listening to it and she was excited to be there for some live music.

They weren’t allowed to drink in the general campus area (unless there was a permitted event), so she was just parked on the roof of one of the structures and having a bit of wine from her little travel tumbler. Most of the people had little picnics on the green before the concert, so despite the very many cars here, everyone was down by the auditorium already and no one could judge her for drinking. She was sat in the car with her door wide open and her nose scrunched up a bit when she got a whiff of someone smoking weed not too far from her. She was curious about it, so she got out of her car and just wandered to the ledge of the parking structure, acting as if she were just looking over it and from her peripheral she saw someone two cars down from her and when she glanced over, they glanced to her at the same time. Her heart leapt and broke as Harry’s eyes met with hers. It was only natural that they smiled at each other as they hadn’t really seen each other in a while, but their smiles weren’t wide and excited like they usually were. She didn’t like how tense it felt right now so she just spoke up.

“You’re back.” She pointed out with a smile and he nodded as he smashed the end of his joint against the concrete ledge and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, got in a couple days ago.” He shared and she nodded and smiled.

“So does this mean you’re faculty now or did you pay?” She asked.

“Oh, Dr. Hsu actually gave me the ticket as a thank you for deciding to stay on to adjunct at the very least.” He said and she smiled.

“Well I’m glad you were able to come to a decision. Do you feel good about it?” She asked.

“Yeah, I do.” He confirmed and she smiled. He had no idea why he was so awkward right now, he was still processing that she was really right there, a few feet from him. What were the odds? “What’ve you got there?” He asked eyeing her flask and he would kick himself if he could at how stupid his question was, but he just needed to say something before she left.

“Oh, just a bit of wine.” She said and before she could talk herself out of it she spoke up again, “Want some?” She offered and he smiled, this time it did reach his eyes.

“Ummm, yeah sure.” He said as he scooted past the two cars between them and she extended the tumbler to him. “Thanks. Do you want a hit?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” She said softly and he took a swig from the wine and then passed it over again so that he could light up the joint again. Once he did he blew off the burnt parts at the end and then passed it over to her. She studied it for a moment before she brought it to her lips.

“Slowly, it’s quite strong.” He warned and her eyes flickered up to his as she inhaled slowly and held it for a few seconds before she started to to cough, the fine smoke traveled too far down and was burning her throat. “Oh shit.” He said coming up to her and taking the joint to allow her to try and drink some wine down to just lubricate her throat just a bit. She coughed for a bit more, here eyes were tearful, but she finally inhaled properly and shook her head.

“Geez.” She chuckled before clearing her throat again.

“Sorry.” He said and she shook her head and dabbed at her eyes a bit.

“S’alright, I think smoking is just not for me.” She giggled and he smiled.

“I mean same, but these were on sale so I just figured I’d just get them…” he said and she smiled. There was a beat of silence that felt so tense and unfamiliar, it was sad really, “It feels weird now, doesn’t it?” He asked her and she nodded in confirmation that she felt it too.

“I’ve just been trying to figure out why.” She said, “Like, I thought we left things OK when we last spoke. Like we’re OK, right?” She asked.

“We are, I promise I’m not like upset at you or anything other than the circumstance.” He assured, “But I think maybe we’re just…protecting ourselves?” He said and she bit her lip and hummed pensively. He took another drag of the joint and exhaled it.

“That makes sense…I do feel…defensive almost.” She explained, “Like I had to just pretend like…” she sighed and just looked down at her shoes instead.

“Like what?” He asked and she glanced back up to him.

“Like you don’t affect me.” She said, her eyebrows creased in frustration. “Like I haven’t been basically bedridden for the past 3 weeks over how much it hurts me to love you.” She said and he pouted. “And the shitty thing is that personally, there’s no reason for why I shouldn’t. And it feels like I’m…fading away.” She said sadly, “Like it physically hurts. My heart literally hurts and I haven’t felt that way in a long time and I just…never wanted to feel this again.” She confessed.

“The hurt?” He asked as he extinguished the remnants of the joint.

“No. The…love that leads to the hurt.” She said and he frowned, “It always does…sooner or later.” She said and he nodded.

“Well yeah, nothing lasts forever.” He concluded and she hummed. He didn’t feel like being the optimistic and idealistic therapist right now, he wanted to feel the hurt with her. He wanted it to suck, he wanted the feelings to just be out in the open because this way they weren’t stuck inside of him making him feel like he was suffocating. He ached too, his chest felt tight and heavy, his stomach twisted when he remembered her telling him that it just wasn’t going to work. He hadn’t been that disappointed in so long… “Told my mum about you and Celeste.” He said and her eyes met his again.

“Did she get upset at you?”

“No, she was really openminded and she just listened.” He said and smiled, “She said she was sorry not being around as much before and like she’s felt guilty all these years thinking that I had moved here to spite her and my dad for never being around when I was younger and that she could tell something was off with me.” He said and she frowned, “And she told me that she understood if I didn’t open up to her, but that she wanted to build trust with me and just be my mum and like…honestly, I had left here because I didn’t want to think about any of what had just happened with us.” He said and she nodded in understanding, “But ummm…she had just been so vulnerable that I just…wanted to be vulnerable back and like…well I just told her everything and she took it well.” He said and Diana smiled.

“That’s really great, Harry. I’m really happy you guys were able to make progress in your relationship.” She said with a genuine smile and he nodded, “What about your dad?”

“Oh, he’s in a motorcycle club now.” He said and she giggled, “Yeah, I used to ride when I was younger and like…I guess he had always been curious and so now he’s making more time to explore that hobby. We did go on a little drive down to Brighton, which was nice, just had some time together as well.”

“That’s really good, Harry. I am glad that it all went well and were able to reconnect with your parents in that way.”

“Thanks. Ummm…how’s it been without Celeste around?”

“It’s sucked so bad.” She confessed with a smile and he chuckled, “But ummm…I think I've needed this time alone to just…deal with everything.”

“Do you feel like you can’t be sad around her?” He asked.

“Not about this. She hounds me and asks so many questions whenever she sees me upset and like…yeah, so no I can’t really be sad around her without it being a full fledged interrogation.” She said with a smile.

“I wish I could help somehow…” he said and she shook her head.

“I’m fine, I mean…it is what it is.” She said before drinking some more of her wine.

“Yeah…I guess so.” He replied. And yeah, it just felt so awkward between them now. It wasn’t right, but maybe this was for the best.

“So do you like Gershwin or did she just give you a random ticket?” Diana asked.

“Honestly, I could give two shits about Gershwin, I’m just here in case they play Rhapsody in Blue.” He said and she laughed at his response which made him smile, “I’m kidding, I do like Gershwin. Dr. Hsu sent me the calendar and let me pick one.” He explained and she hummed.

“That’s sweet of her.”

“Yeah, she’s a nice lady. Do you like Gershwin?”

“Yeah, I do actually. My dad’s a fan, so I grew up listening to a lot of his compositions. I couldn’t miss it.” She added and he smiled.

“Are you feeling anything yet?”

“No…I think it just burned my throat and that was that.” She joked and Harry chuckled, “Are you feeling anything?”

“No, oddly enough.” He said.

“Maybe that’s why they were on sale.” She pointed out and Harry’s eyes widened in realization.

“Well fuck…” he hummed and she giggled, “Just ruining my lungs for no good reason.”

“Is there ever a good reason?” She asked and he hummed.

“That’s a fair question…”

“Want some more wine? I’ve already had my serving. I literally filled it to the top.” She said and he glanced to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have to drive home so I shouldn’t finish it all myself.” She reasoned and he nodded in agreement as he took the tumbler from her and knocked it back and chugged down the remaining half of the wine. She laughed and rolled her eyes as he swallowed down gulps of it at a time before he was done.

“That should do it.” He chuckled as he handed back the tumbler to her and she smiled as she took it back and turned to put it in the cupholder in the car. Harry was peaking over the ledge of the parking structure, “It looks like it’s about to start.” He said and then they heard the first musicians start to tune.

“I guess so.” She said as she closed her door and headed over beside him to look.

“Do you have a box seat?” She asked him and he nodded.

“You?”

“Oh, I got mine for the back section in case I need to go or something.” She explained.

“You’re gonna hear people eating snacks and chattering over the music.” He said and she shrugged. “What if we watched from up here? I mean, we can hear it clearly and the sound isn’t even on yet.” He suggested.

“I don’t think that’s smart, Harry.” She responded. His heart stung at her rejection, but he just couldn’t help it, he craved being closer to her. He loved her so much that being away from her made him feel so alone.

“You’re right. Sorry for suggesting that.” He said softly. It grew tense and quiet between them and he just decided that he needed to remove himself from this situation before he did anything else to embarrass himself, “Ummm, I’m gonna get down there then. Sorry about the bum joint and the awkwardness and just everything I guess.” He said nervously and it broke her in two to see him so insecure and off his game. He was better at hiding his hurt, but the facade was starting to crack and it hurt to see him this way.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize.” She assured him and he nodded before he just took off. “Fuck me…” she whispered as she hurried to grab a tissue from the little packet in her purse and was quick to dab under her eyes as she felt herself start to cry.

She hated being so cold towards him, but it was a defense mechanism. Everything she was doing now was all part of her self-preservation, she only loved to lose and quite frankly, she was done playing that game. She was so tempted to run after him, to rush down the stairs and meet him and hold him and tell him that she’s missed him so much. It was almost like a compulsion that she couldn’t control, this inherent need to just go after him. Before she could even allow herself to rationalize her decision she got back in her car and started making her way down the structure, she couldn’t be anywhere near him, it hurt too much.

*********

The elevator had just opened when Harry saw Diana’s car waiting for the barrier to raise at the exit of the structure. He hurried out of the elevator and as he got closer he could hear her sobbing and while he had every intention of running over to her to tell her that he loved her and that she should stay with him for this, he suddenly felt cemented to the ground. He didn’t want to be responsible for her tears anymore, so he swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the barrier lifted and then she drove off without so much as a look back.

The show sucked, even if they did play all the pieces he liked. The others in the box with him were a bit sloshed so they had been chatting over the music the whole time. He was in a bad mood and he didn’t feel like interacting with anyone or being stuck in the line at the parking structure so he just sat in the seat until he was asked by the security guard to please leave the auditorium. So he begrudgingly made it up the stairs and walked back to the parking structure. The ride up to the top floor was fast, but not fast enough that he had the privacy of crying in the comfort of his car. His tears started spilling down his face by the time he’d made it to the second floor and he was glad that no one else was in there to witness this pathetic and sad spectacle. He was just going to go home and get drunk and put on a sad film that could help him cry it out. That seemed like the best plan.

The drive to his house was thankfully smooth, he only got one red light and it was the main street that he made a left on to get into his neighborhood, so he wasn’t all that bothered by it. He was sad and irritated and wanted to drown his sorrows. He wasn’t careful as he kicked off his shoes at the entrance, or as he started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He then tapped his pockets to find his phone to turn on the hot tub jets so it could be nice and steamy when he got in, but it wasn’t on him. He sighed in irritation when he realized it was still in the car and he literally groaned as he swung open his front door, but all of his frustration melted away when he saw Diana standing there, hand in the air, about to knock.

Time felt suspended as they just looked at each other. The evidence of the hurt they were both being consumed by was tangible. Her eyes softened as she studied his features, his eyes were glossy from his recent tears and she felt like shit thinking that she could be the reason that he cried.

“Harry, I’ve…I’ve missed you.” She said and he sniffled.

“Then why did you leave?” He questioned.

“Because I can’t be around you and think straight! You make me feel all tingly and jumbled up and I love it so much, but it’s so fucking inconvenient.” She said and he smiled lightly.

“I’ve never been happier to hear I inconvenience you.” He joked and she sighed, but held a smile on her face.

“I just want you to know that I’m…hurting a lot too. I know I don’t show it as much and I act so cold and callous, but I…I yearn for you.” She confessed with a desperate look in her eyes, “I have been. Every. Single. Day since we said goodbye.”

“Baby…” he exhaled with a frown and she inhaled sharply as her tears started to fall again.

“I just needed you to know.” She said and he nodded. “I’m not going to stay.” She said right off the bat, “I just needed to tell you in person because I felt like such a coward for just bolting off-”

“You’re not a coward.” He assured her and she nodded her head as she sniffled.

“Yes, I am.” She whispered and he reached his hand out to her and she bit her lip before deciding to just take it.

She felt relief as she slid her fingers against his palm delicately for a second, she didn’t want to overthink it. She glanced up at him and just surged forward and hugged him tight, burying her face in his chest. Harry’s body relaxed in her hold and he was quick to hug around her tightly as well. She started to sob because just being in his arms brought her all of the comfort she’d been needing and it was sad to know the person who could make you feel better was the person you should stay away from.

“It’s alright, baby.” He sniffled as he rocked them a bit from side to side. “I’ve missed you too. Can’t stop thinking about you and even when it hurts, I don’t want to.” He said and she exhaled shakily.

“So your escape to England didn’t even help?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Not at all. I was just…picturing how much fun we’d have i-if we went together? Like Celeste would freak out if she got to see Abbey Road.”

“And the Harry Potter set.”

“Yeah, that too…” He hummed as he recalled this detail, “So ummm, yeah I couldn’t help but think of you guys while I was out there.” He said and she exhaled and squeezed him just a bit harder. “Have you talked to Celeste?” He asked and she shook her head.

“She promised she’d text every night but she forgot about me after the first couple of days.” She said and he chuckled.

“Typical.” He mumbled and she nodded.

“Knew she would…” she sighed as she started to loosen her hold around Harry and it made him hold her a bit tighter.

“Please, not yet. Just another minute or so.” He said and she smiled up at him, her chin against his chest as he glanced down at her.

“I wasn’t gonna let go yet, just want to see you.” She said and he smiled.

“Oh, OK.” He said and let her go so that she could reposition her body in a way that made it more comfortable for her to look up at him this way. She just admired him for a moment.

“Like your hair at this length.” She complimented and his cheeks flushed.

“Oh, thank you. Me too.” He replied timidly and she just smiled at up him. “And well, I just like everything about you.” He said and she smiled.

“Can I kiss you? Right here?” She asked as she nudged her nose on his peck, right over where his heart would be and he nodded. She smiled in gratitude before puckering her lips over that part of his chest and smooching him three times over his heart. Harry felt a surge of warmth and happiness that he hadn’t felt in weeks, “I really do love you, Harry. With every piece of my heart.” She reassured him solemnly.

“I love you too, Di.”

---- TAG LIST ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @daphnesutton @gurugirl @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @angelbabyyy99 @justlemmeadoreyou @permanentllyharry @jessitpwk @cherrysulewski @matildasatellite@keriberi @reveriehs @ottawaoutlander

22 notes · View notes