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munson-blurbs · 8 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.

You’re almost a full week late.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 month

Text

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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grapementos · 10 months

Text

walk away as the door slams

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: heavily! toxic relationships, emotionally abusive (gaslighting, etc.), angst.

pt 2 here.

bakugo isn't the same person he was in high school. he grew into a top five hero and opened his own agency, only to be brutally torn apart by the tabloids.

scandal after scandal, you watched him crack. like glass, he grew more and more fragile each time he was made out to be a monster, an asshole, a douchebag--whatever other name was thrown out there.

each time, you were there to comfort him and stand by his side against every rumor and generalization. still, it scared you as you watched his resolve weaken. it was as if he didn't see the point in being a hero anymore.

then came the headline, the article that had him hanging up his gauntlets in exchange for civilian life. the article had an incriminating photo of him holding up his hand to a child. of course, it was taken out of context; bakugo had merely been guiding the child away from the rubble of the building near them.

however, the media ate it up, and bakugo decided that being a hero wasn't worth the false allegations. he announced his resignation the same day and rid the entire house of hero news.

it broke your heart to see him give up his dream, so you'd tried and failed time and time again to talk him out of it. you even invited midoriya and kirishima to persuade him to become a hero again, but his mind was made.

he'd since picked up a new, low-brow job that kept him out of the public eye. with that, unfortunately, came stress regarding bills, grocery shopping, and necessary budget cuts. it was a huge adjustment, one that led to frequent arguments.

you worked from home, so you were able to keep it clean and cook meals for the most part. you tried so hard to keep your home a place where the two of you could coexist happily, but he always came home with an unfulfilled look in his eyes.

truth be told, you were exhausted, but bringing it up just made bakugo frustrated, so you avoided the subject. instead, you'd ask him about work, only to be brushed off.

it hurt.

"katsuki," you called from your spot at the table, finishing up some work, "what do you want to eat tonight?"

"dunno." he grunted, walking out of your shared bedroom.

"right. so helpful." you sighed, looking at your laptop once more, "do you have a general idea? or do you want to cook?"

"i just got home from an 8-hour shift." he looked at you like you were dumb, eyes narrowed, "can you lay off with the million questions?"

"it's a simple question. i need to know if i have to defrost anything." you shut your laptop a little harder than necessary, "i work too, you know."

he laughed bitterly but didn't say anything.

"what?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"oh, nothing. just thought it was funny, is all."

"what's so damn funny?"

"you, sitting on a laptop all day. 'working'," he used air-quotes, opening the cupboards.

"really? you wanna go there?" you closed the cupboard he was looking in, cheeks flushed with frustration.

he stared at you, jaw clenched, "can you move?"

"can you stop being so damn mean?"

"god, i'm not being mean." he shook his head and opted for digging through the fridge instead, "y'just being too damn sensitive."

you took in a deep breath, red hot anger beginning to boil up in your gut and through your hands all the way down to your fingers.

"stop digging through the fridge when i'm trying to talk to you, please."

he didn't even spare you a glance, pulling out the last cold water bottle.

"katuski." you demanded, louder.

"my god, what?" he slammed the fridge closed, leaning back on the counter, "as if i don't get nagged enough by my boss."

"i'm not nagging you. i'm," you stammered, trying not to escalate the situation into an argument, "i'm trying to see what you want for dinner. that's all."

"just make whatever. i'm not hungry anyways." he tossed the plastic bottle into the trash, plopping down at the table.

you rubbed your temples, trying so hard to maintain your calm, "okay."

the two of you were sat across each other at the kitchen table. you ate something quick you'd whipped up, finally breaking the silence, "they're considering me for a promotion. it's a pretty significant payraise, and i think i--"

"god, are you fuckin' kidding me?" he interrupted, eyes suddenly aflame.

"what?" you cocked your head, confused at his sudden irritation.

"you just love rubbing that shit in my face, huh? you're always talking about how you get paid more than i do, how work is so great, and now this? great job, breadwinner."

"katsuki, we're partners, we both contribute to this household no matter what. i'm not the... breadwinner." you insisted, pain blooming in your chest, "i thought you'd be happy for me."

"like you were so happy for me to quit that hero gig? so you can get all the glory of supporting us?"

"is that really what you think?" you stood, not able to control the flames of anger licking at your chest, "katsuki, you know damn well i gave my all trying to talk you into staying a hero."

"bullshit. you just wanted it to look that way." he stood too, hands planted firmly on the table, "because that's what you do. you pretend you care, and then just soak up all the glory for it."

you clenched your jaw, "not everyone cares for glory as much as you do. i don't know why you think that, but i know you loved being a hero, and i supported that because i love you."

"do you? or did you only get with me to be the partner of a hero?" he spat, eyes narrow and downright venomous, "poor partner of dynamight, they must go through so much to endure his anger issues. poor fuckin' you, right? poor y/n."

your lower lip quivered, the back of your eyes burning, and he laughed. he laughed.

"what? you're gonna cry, really?" he scoffed, shaking his head, "fine, fuckin' cry. that's all you seem to know how to do."

you inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes trained steadily on him, "fuck you." you whispered, hands balled into fists by your side.

"say it louder." he challenged, "maybe it'll actually do something."

"fuck you, bakugo katsuki." tears fell freely down your cheeks, but you weren't sad. you were pissed.

you walked around the table and jabbed your finger in his chest, "i have done so much for you. so goddamn much. i have stood by you, i have disproved every bad thing the media had to say, i've supported you, and-" your voice wobbled, "it's never fucking enough. nothing is ever enough for you. someone is always after you, someone is always praying on your downfall, because everything's about katsuki, right?"

he was stunned silent, leaning back away from you. his face was conflicted, eyes wide with surprise.

"well news-fucking-flash, the world doesn't revolve around you. and neither do i," you dropped your hand, wiping at your cheeks, "so i'm done. i'm done fighting for us, because you have never once tried for me."

"y/n--"

"y'know, katsuki." you paused on your way to the bedroom, "i think they were right about you. you are a douchebag. an asshole. a monster."

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zylev-blog · 4 months

Text

Time travel AU featuring Bart + Danny

The reach had taken over the planet. The Justice League had lost a long time ago, and had been killed. The ghost army had also been defeated, and things were grim. This had led to their current predicament: building a ghost portal so they could go find the being known as Clockwork, who was their last hope. If they couldn’t find Clockwork, they truly lost. Earth would be lost. And Bart didn’t want to admit defeat yet.

“No no, you’re swapping the wires.” Danny huffed, taking the wires from his hands.

“I’m not even sure this junk is going to work.” Bart sighed.

“My parents used to make fully functioning guns with scrap.” Danny responded as he added the wires to the wiring harness, “I’m hoping I can do the same.”

“Hoping and working are two different things.” Bart pointed out.

“Look, I died in a portal made by my parents. I know what they look like and how they work. Even before that, I helped them build it. I know what I’m doing.” Danny didn’t look at him as he clicked everything into place.

“I hope so.” Bart’s voice was quiet. “A lot of people died to get the ectoplasm stores from the Reach’s vault.”

Danny didn’t respond at first, only looking away from him with grief written all over his face. The silence stretched for a few minutes before Danny responded with a quiet, “I know.”

Danny got out of the wall and pressed a few buttons on a nearby pin pad. “Let’s go through this again.”

“I know what’s happening next.” Bart rolled his eyes. “If Clockwork lets us go back to the past, we pose as tourists. It’s just a good thing I’m related to the Flash, even if I’ve never met him.”

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t friends with Batman yet with how far back we have to go. I don’t think they’ve ever met yet.” Danny crossed his arms.

“We’ll be fine.” Bart wasn’t sure if he was convincing himself or Danny.

Danny started the portal, and it hummed to life. Green sparked in the middle as the fabric of reality tore open. Both Danny and Bart watched, transfixed, as green swirled around the inside of the portal.

“Yes!” Danny exclaimed, and high fives Bart.

That’s when they heard it. Reach ships were getting closer to their location. He heard the telltale sign of explosions getting closer and closer as everything in their area was destroyed.

“In! In!” Danny exclaimed, starting the self destruct sequence. Bart wasted no time and sped into the portal, and a second later, Danny appeared behind him and the portal closed. Well, it looked like they had no choice now but to go forward.

#dp x batman #dp dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp crossover #danny phantom crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #time travel #bart allen #danny is so done #danny fenton

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sykostyles · 2 months

Text

let you love me 1.2 (final)

wc: 15.6 k (listen, i'm sorry okay)

summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine! harry x grumpy! afab reader part one, two

a/n: here we have it, the last part of my first story! thank you all so much for the love so far. I can't tell you what it means to me. I can't wait to see what's next. I know this is super long but there was so much I wanted to include with harry and y/n. I hope you all enjoy!

cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!

Never once did you think that your handsome stranger that you met nearly five months ago would still be stopping in your bakery every day. His antics lately have been amped up, he’s very determined to treat you to a night out, but you’re constantly refusing; not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable again.

“When will you let me take you out, love?”

“When pigs fly, Harry. Doing the same as yesterday?” You say gesturing to the case.

“You wound me, but I know I’ll change your mind. Yes, same as yesterday.”

“Ya know, Harry, the last guy said the same thing, and here we are.” You say, sliding his box over for the hundredth time at this point.

“Ah, but I am indeed not the last guy.” He glances down at his phone, “Give me one moment, I need to step out for just a second.” Harry says before excusing himself out front, Though he isn’t gone long, returning holding something behind his back.

You do often find yourself daydreaming about letting yourself be happy again. It’s a feeling you crave constantly, just the desire to feel heard, feel seen, feel loved.

But, you know that in the long run, it’s better this way. You can’t get hurt if you don’t let yourself get put in that situation. Even though you’re just hurting yourself, you'll just keep pretending you’re not.

“Hopefully this will make your day go a little better,” Harry says, revealing the secret behind his back.

You stare at his hand for a moment. “How did you know?”

“Pardon?” Harry asks, his hand still extended holding the cup of coffee out to you. From your favorite coffee shop down the street. The exact way you like your coffee.

“This. How did you know?” You inquired, taking the cup from his grasp.

“A true magician never reveals his secrets, love. But Ryan just picked it up for me.”

“Har-” you start,

“I know, you say you don’t like the nickname. I’ll make a liar out of you, though. Just give it time.”

“Thank you. For the coffee” You almost whisper.

“Course, love. I’ll bring it to you every day if you’d like.”

“Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that.” You say, waving your hands back and forth.

“Well, it's a good thing you’re not asking. I’ll see you tomorrow, Love. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Bye, Harry.” You smile to yourself after he leaves.

“And you say you’re not interested in him.” Jesse says leaning against the doorframe leading to the back room.

“I’m not. He’s just being friendly.” You say. Your nose would be growing if your name was Pinocchio, that’s for sure.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, girl. Just give in, you never know what you might be missing out on. He seems to really like you.”

“He does.” You concur, “But so did Jackson.” You whisper, leaving him up front.

Nearing the end of the summer, you finally decided to switch up your answer with Harry. After many conversations with Carly, Jesse, and even Mr. Henry had something to say much to your surprise, you decided maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just see where it went. You didn’t have to sign your life over to him or anything. You were just scared. Harry knew that. “Whenever you’re ready, love. Just know I'll be waiting.” Everyone knew that. They were all just waiting for you to come out of the hole you dug yourself into out of self preservation. They can’t really blame you for being weary, Harry is doing almost exactly what Jackson was doing when he was pursuing you. Although, you do have to admit it feels different this time around. Harry feels different. Harry feels.. Real.

Of course, you were still planning on making him work for it. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. But like Carly said, if he was deterred by your sharp tongue and witty comebacks, he wouldn’t keep pressing on like he has been. Even though you attempted to throw out the “Jackson was the same way.” excuse but she deadpanned “Not everyone is a egotistical, meathead football player that’ll do anything to get his dick wet.” You weren’t entirely sure if you should have been offended by that statement. But after she showed you all of the headlines Jackson has been in over the last six months regarding his failing love life you both had a few good laughs.

“Good morning, Love. How are you today?” Harry says, sliding the daily cup of coffee across the counter.

“Mm, it would be better if i didn’t have to get out of bed to talk to people like you, but here we are.” You say, bringing the cup to take a sip.

“Such arrows come from that pretty mouth. What will I do with you?” He says with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“You could pick your flavors for the day and move on? There’s an idea.”

“Ooh, and the sass. I’m already practically in love with you, you don’t have to try so hard, love.” He says, turning to the case. “Do you still have that one with the marshmallow in the middle? Ryan really liked those ones.”

You pause, taking a look inside the case to check, “I don’t anymore, those were limited. But tell Ryan I'll make a special batch just for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. We’ll do the chocolate peanut butter then. Those are a close second.” He says, mirroring your words from the first day he stepped foot in your bakery. You box up the order, and make your way to the counter. He hands you his normal black credit card, but when he goes to pick up the box, you stop him.

“No. Send Ryan in here to get them” You say, pulling the box back towards you.

“I beg your pardon, love?”

“Oh, don’t beg yet. There’s plenty of time for that later..” You smirk, “I just want to properly meet Ryan without your.. Influence.”

“Anything you want.” Harry states, making his way to the door. “See you tomorrow, Love.”

You can see Harry telling Ryan what’s going on. Ryan looks ever so confused, and maybe even a little anxious as he makes his way inside.

“Hello, Ryan. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I’m Y/N.” You say, holding your hand out.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss Y/N.” He says, taking your hand in his and giving you a delicate shake. “Your creations are delicious. Stopping here is the highlight of my day, as well as Mr. Styles out there, He quite enjoys your company.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You say, picking up a marker. You pull the box towards you once more, writing a note on top before sliding it back to Ryan on the other side. “Have a great day, Ryan. See you tomorrow.”

“You as well, Miss Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He says, making a swift exit.

Staring out the shop window after him, you see him hand Harry the box. Harry’s eyes immediately take in the note you left on top.

“Pick me up after we close at 6 tonight, Mr. Styles.” You signed with your phone number at the bottom. You can see his smile from here. It’s so contagious even Ryan starts to smile. Even YOU start to smile.

Unknown: very cheeky, love. See you tonight.

You: you shouldn't have expected anything less. See you tonight, Mr. Styles. What should I wear?

Harry: I honestly expected a little more from you. But, I accept your defeat.

Harry: And I’ll take care of everything, Love.

You: Defeat? Hold on there just a minute, mister. I haven’t lost anything.

Harry: I remember a certain “When pigs fly” phrase coming from your mouth. I told you I always get what I want. See you tonight, Love

"Shit. What did I agree to? Should I cancel? Should I close early and hide somewhere? Well then what excuse would I have when he comes in tomorrow? I could tell him I’ve got a case of food poisoning? Or a migraine?"

Just as your thoughts begin to spiral for the umpteenth time in your downtime, the bell on the door chimes. You look up to see Carly, holding a garment bag, and Jesse standing behind her.

“Uh, what are you two doing here?” You say, confusion very evident on your face. “Jesse aren’t you supposed to be like three hours away in some lecture hall?”

“Oh sure, just question why he’s not where he’s supposed to be.” Carly says, laced with a fake offended tone.

“Bitch, did you forget I went to college with you? I know you’re prone to play hooky every now and then.”

“Okay, fair.” She laughs, “But, I received a phone call so I’m doing my end of a deal I made.”

“Same here.” Jesse says from behind her. “I’m here to take over and close up for you.”

“And I’m here to help you get ready!” Carly erupts with excitement. “I’m so excited for you.”

“Wait a second, what deal?” Now you’re even more confused.

“Ah, can’t reveal anything else. Now, upstairs you two go. I got my own date with one of these cookies and cream cupcakes as my reward for helping you get laid.” Jesse says, guiding both of you to the staircase.

“Jesse!”

“Have the best time!” He says before closing the door behind you.

Carly refused to explain anything to you, other than she was given directions to be at your place to start helping you get ready at 4:30 pm sharp. She was just doing what she was told.

“Stop it.” She says, starting to remove the curlers from your hair.. “I know that look. You’re going to have a great time. He’s already head over heels for you. I can tell.”

“That’s what I’m scared of, Carls. I’m so scared.” You whisper. “I don’t know how to accept love anymore.”

“You accept my love. Jesse’s love. Mr. Henry’s. I know it’s different when it’s a romantic situation, but you’ve gotta have a little faith, babe.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It’s not easy, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

“What if he ends up being just like Jackson?”

“Don’t you see how different he is from him already? He’s made all of this effort just today. He made sure I was out of work. He made sure Jesse was here on time, when Jesse’s supposed to be at school. He literally had an outfit picked up for you, Y/N. Jackson would never include me in a date plan, let alone plan anything with this level of thought behind it. I don’t even think he’s capable of deep thought, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Jackson never planned anything beyond a dinner reservation.” You half laughed. “See what I mean! I know you’re scared, babe, I know. It’s scary being vulnerable. It’s so scary. But it can be so rewarding. But you have to at least try. You won’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”

“But what’s so wrong with being alone?”

“Don’t even start with me right now. I love you, but I will kick your ass.” She says, totally serious.

“Okaaaay, jeez. I get it.”

“Good. Now, bring me your face.” She says, setting your makeup on the counter.

You never thought you’d be walking out your apartment door to meet a man you face planted into in a parking lot. For a date!

You see him leaning against the building opposite yours, dressed in a more casual outfit than you’re used to seeing him in. But you swear you might just prefer this look. His outfit compliments yours; the detailed color in the sun dress he picked out for you emulates the color of his sweater. He’s got his sunglasses pushed atop his head, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other hand holding his phone; and a bouquet of yellow tulips tucked under his arm. He looks divine. The casual sexiness just drips off of him.

“Well hello there, stranger. I almost didn’t recognize you.” You say, causing him to look up from his screen.

“I’m sor- woah.” He clears his throat. “You look.. Wow.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I guess I still got it.”

“I don’t think you could ever lose it, Love.” He says, sauntering over to you. Grabbing the flowers from under his arm, he extends them to you, “For you, milady.”

“Okay, seriously, which one of them told you everything about me?” You say, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “Yellow tulips have always been my favorite.”

He smiles down at you. “I would never throw your friends under the bus like that. But they all do love to talk about your interests and seem to have your best ones at heart.”

“They do. I appreciate them so much.” You say quietly. “Thank you. Let me put these inside real fast and we can go.”

“I’ll be right here, Love.” He says, kissing your hand before you walk away. You immediately felt your cheeks get warm.

You step inside the bakery and see Jesse standing at the counter with a vase of water.

“Oh, so you knew about these too? You’re the mole, huh? Do you know everything related to tonight?” You say, setting the flowers inside the vase.

Jesse looks at you with a smile and pretends to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“I hate you.” You say walking back to the front door. “Thank you, Jesse. For everything.”

“You know I always got you, girl. Have a great time.”

“So, where are we going?”

“Ah, that would spoil the surprise.” Harry says, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. “But I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy what I’ve got planned.”

“Cutting me up and spreading the parts out across a fifty mile radius?”

“You’re a little morbid, you know that?” he chuckles softly

“So I’ve been told. Does that bother you?” you’re grinning at him.

“What do you think?” He smirks at you, sliding his hand over to rest on your knee.

The car comes to a stop outside a brick building. “Pottery Painting Class Tonight 8-9pm” Reads on the small marquee board.

“Okay now I know you talked to Carly.” You say excitedly as he helps you out of the car, “I’ve always wanted to do one of these!”

“I had a feeling.” He chuckles. “We are a little early, but there's a diner I love across the street. Come,” He says, holding his hand out to you. You gladly take it and begin to walk hand in hand to your destination.

Settling into a corner booth, your waitress comes and takes your drink order before leaving you to look over the menu. She returns and you let Harry order for you since you were stuck on two options.

“So, what made you finally cave?” He inquires, a heavy smirk upon his face.

“First of all, I didn’t cave. I figured if you’re going to kill me, I might as well get a date out of it.” You quip, leaning your chin onto your hand.

“Always so quick with the comebacks.” He teases. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that this time around, but there’s always next time.”

“You think there’s going to be a next time?” Your eyebrow raises, a smirk tugging on your lips

“Oh, I know it.” He states without even thinking about it.

“I do have a few questions for you, though.” You say, your tone somewhat serious.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“You don’t even know me.” You start, “Well, besides what you got out of my friends. You ran into me one day, and then just started showing up out of nowhere. Which doesn't make sense to me either. How did you find me?” Your tone started to seem kind of accusatory. You don’t even let him answer before you start again, “Don’t get me wrong, I love the daily business, but it just seems too calculated to me. It’s been plaguing my brain since the first day you walked in my shop. So, Why me, Harry?”

“I know how weird this all seems, and I profusely apologize for making it seem like my intentions were anything other than good.” He starts, reaching his hand across the table, his way of asking for yours. You hesitantly oblige. “But I will explain everything to you from my point of view, if you’ll allow me.” He says, thumb gliding over the back of your hand.

“Well yeah, I’m here aren’t I?” You smirk at him. “But, I’m also here because you got a stamp of approval from my entire peanut gallery. So be grateful to them.”

“I’ll be sure to send them a thank you card.” He says. “But let me start from the beginning, Love.”

Harry had just arrived at the stadium. Head coach Johnson requested his presence to show Harry just how far their dead last draft pick Jackson Cole had been improving. Harry was less than thrilled when his decision was overruled when it came to drafting Cole, he wanted a different pick from the University of Miami, but they went with majority ruling and thus here we are.

So needless to say, Harry didn’t really want to be here right now, but he knew it wouldn’t take too much of his time. Watch the kid throw the ball a few times and gauge his performance from that. Or so he thought,

“Are you kidding me? Star quarterback kid forgot his practice bag? His practice bag, for the championship game he should be grateful he’s even getting the chance to play in, since my first string is out with a torn ligament? Why am I here wasting my time?” Harry states, business mode turned all the way up to ten.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. He says his girlfriend is on the way with the bag.”

“If the bag isn’t here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. And something will be done about this.” He says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

The ten minutes pass, and Harry’s irritation rises. He stands from his seat in Johnson’s office and turns to Ryan on his right, “Call for the car, we’re leaving.” Looking to Johnson sitting behind his desk, he points at him, “We’ll be looking to extinguish your contract. If you can’t get your players to remember their gear, why would I think you can get them to remember plays?”

“Mr. Styles, I plead with you to thin-” He’s cut off by the sounds of yelling in the hallway.

All three men make their way out the door to see what the commotion was all about.

“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful. For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Harry hears from down the hall.

He turns and sees Cole’s back facing him, and just over his shoulder he sees a woman. A woman with tears in her eyes and shock and terror all over her face.

“Is that your star quarterback over there, verbally abusing that woman?” Harry inquires, turning to Johnson. “I swear on your life, i will remove you from this office myself if that boy over there causes any kind of uproar in the media, Do i make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Johnson says, fear laced in his voice.

Harry turns back towards the scene unfolding before him, but the woman was gone.

“Mr. Styles, the car is up front.” Ryan pipes up from behind him.

“Right, let’s go then. Don’t make me repeat myself, Johnson.” He says before they take off.

“Wait a second, you were there for that?” You question him. He nods, picking up a french fry.

“I was. I heard the whole thing. Right pissed me off. I wish I would have stepped in instead of threatening Johnson.” His jaw ticks.

“You don’t really seem like you could have that kind of scary demeanor.”

“I only show it to people that need to see it.” He says matter of factly. “But, you don’t get very far in business without being like that. At least sometimes. But outside of my business, I’m nothing like that. Unless you want me to be.” He smirks at you.

You blush, but a realization comes into your head, “Hold on, I completely just let this go over my head. Who are you, exactly, Harry?”

He smiles. “I was waiting for this. I’m the majority owner for the team, Love.” Your face goes pale.

Wait. Huh?? The Owner? This is the owner you embarrassed Jackson in front of?

“Jackson said I embarrassed him in front of you that day.” You say, looking down at the table.

Harry laughs, “If anybody embarrassed Jackson, it was Jackson. What grown ass man forgets his work gear? This is his job after all. And, who then verbally assaults the person who brings it to him? In front of everyone, nonetheless.”

He takes in the frown on your face, and decides to shift the direction of the conversation. “You really had no idea who I was this whole time.” He says, more of a statement than a question.

“Was I supposed to?” You respond quietly, still not sure what to do with this information.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I’m honestly more surprised than anything.” He says, holding his hands up like he's pre-defending himself, “And i don't mean this in any kind of derogatory way against you, but normally I have women lie, saying they don’t know me to get closer to me. But you really had no idea this whole time. It’s honestly refreshing.”

“You seem really full of yourself.” You say, taking a bite of your pancakes.

“There’s a fine line between confident and cocky, and I know how to keep myself on the right side. But, let me continue.” He says before continuing his story.

Harry made his way out of the elevator with his band of associates behind him. Ryan was giving him the run down of his next meeting as they walked to the car.

“We have a 1:30 pm meeting with Lyons, but I can resche-” Ryan is cut off by the sound of Harry huffing.

“Woah there love, I gotcha.” It's her. It’s the woman Cole was belittling. She looks so.. sad. I should offer to do so-

“Sorry. You can let go now.” Nice one, Styles.

“My apologies, Love.”

“Don’t call me that.” She says, rolling her eyes at the man before her.

He continues to recount your first meeting exactly as you remember it. He throws in the detail of asking Ryan to look into you, wanting to be fully transparent with you.

“So you knew who I was before this? How is that fair?”

“I suppose it’s not, but I only requested your name and where you worked. I didn’t want to learn anything else before I heard it from you.”

“Say’s the guy who made a ‘deal’ with all of my friends in order to get me here today.” You chuckle.

“Okay, fair. But in my defense, how you take your coffee, what your favorite flower is, and something you’d be interested in doing for a date isn’t entirely sensitive information, Love.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Styles. I happen to take my interests and passions very seriously. These are very sensitive topics.”

“I’ll gladly discuss any sensitive topic you’d like, Love. But perhaps we should save that for when we’re alone, no? Unless you’re into that.” He teases.

“You know, Harry, I just might have met my match with these comebacks of yours, and I don't appreciate being threatened.”

“Is that a challenge?” He says, leaning closer to you across the table.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” you say, matching his movements.

Just as he’s about to seal the deal, his phone buzzes letting him know your class is about to start across the street.

“Ah, but I guess that will have to wait until later.” You say, standing from your seat.

Harry ran his hand along his face, covering his mouth and breathed out a laugh. “This girl.” He thinks. He takes your hand after throwing more than enough cash down on the table, and you make your way back to the brick building that will be housing your date for the evening.

Throughout the course of the rest of your date, you learn more about Harry. He’s 30. His favorite color is orange. “Wait no blue. No, orange. Orange.” He’s an Aquarius, though he swears he doesn’t understand why that’s relevant. He was born in England but moved here when he was 22 to run the US branch of his company. He has his hands and feet in all kinds of different baskets. He’s in the market of construction, publishing, restaurants, real estate; you name it. He’s worked every single day since the day he graduated and he’s turned his business into what it is today. His successful business is what made it possible to be the majority owner of the team Jackson plays for. His parents and sister are still back in England and he misses them terribly, but he travels back as often as he can to see them. Especially now that he’s an uncle! He loves all sports, but American football just really spoke to him. He says soccer is his second favorite. Or the true football according to him.

“But why did you decide to pursue me so intricately? I was so rude to you both of the first real times we spoke.” You question, sweeping your paintbrush across the teapot you chose.

He ponders for a split second, “I got fixated with how it made me feel inside to be the one to make you smile” He says without looking up from the bowl that he chose to paint. “Plus, I saw your disdain for me as a challenge. And I love a challenge.” He smirks, still not looking up at you.

You stare at him in awe, taking in how his brows furrowed together in concentration. He answered you with such an easiness in his tone. “I just don’t know how someone like you could be interested in someone like me.”

“How could I not?” He says, finally looking up at you. ”You’re so determined, and incredibly talented. You’re undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. But you looked so broken and exhausted when I saw you for the first time at the stadium. It broke my heart. I wanted to do everything in my power from that moment on to put a real smile back on your face. I didn’t know you then, but I wanted to. I wanted to take all the pain you were feeling away. That’s all I know.” He says, setting his brush down.

You thoroughly enjoyed yourself tonight and you probably told Harry how much fun you had about 13 times in the time it took him to drive you home. It made his heart swell to know he’d made you so happy tonight. Harry walked you to your apartment door, before turning you to face him, his hands finding purchase on your lower back.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Love,” He says, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear; his touch ghosting your skin, giving you goosebumps.

You roll your eyes. “You won’t ever let up with that nickname, will you?”

“Never. Not when I get this reaction out of you.” He smirks, looking down at your lips. “May i?”

You don’t even hesitate before you nod. He immediately leans down and covers your lips with his. The feeling of warmth, and desire seeps into every pore across your entire body. His kiss feels like everything you’ve ever longed for. You feel safe. You feel at home. A feeling you hadn’t felt since you were twenty years old and lost the only two people you had left you were willing to call biological family. He made you feel alive again.

“Mm, exactly how I imagined.” He says in between rushed kisses, lips moving perfectly in sync.

“You imagined this?” You say breathlessly.

“Only every second of every. fucking. day, Love.” He says after he reluctantly pulls away. “But, I need to stop myself before I get too excited. I want this to be right.”

You shake your head, “You’re just fine.” You say before cupping both of his cheeks and capturing his lips with yours once more. “This is just right.”

“As much as I want this with you right now, we shouldn’t.” He’s gripping your wrists and gently pulling them from his face. “You have no idea how bad I want this.”

“So let’s go upstairs.” You say, trying to free your arms from his grasp.

“Love, look at me.” He says, now grabbing the sides of your neck to angle your head up at him again. “I want nothing more than to take you upstairs and give you everything you deserve.” You’re nodding along with his words, a desperate smile on your face. “But I want to take my time with you. Will you let me take my time with you and do this right?” He asks, sliding his hands up and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I guess so.” You say, voice echoing disappointment.

“Hey, none of that. I’ll take care of you soon, I promise. But for now, I want you to take your cute butt upstairs, and call your friends. I’m sure they’re all waiting to hear how much fun you had tonight. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Harry.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl,” He says, making your breath hitch and cheeks flush. “Now, Up you go. He says, not before pressing one last kiss to your pouty lips.

“See you tomorrow?” You say, turning towards him one last time.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Love.” He waits until he hears your door close behind you before making his way back to his car. He feels his phone vibrate in the cup holder.

You: Thank you for tonight, Mr. Styles. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Harry: The pleasure was all mine, Love. I would enjoy doing that again with you sometime soon.

You: Whenever you want, Harry.

Harry: Ah, I did mention getting what I want, didn't I? How about this weekend? Saturday after you close? I’ll pick you up.

You: It’s a date. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry: Goodnight, Love.

Throwing yourself down on your bed you call Carly. Of course she’s answering on the first ring because she’s as nosy as the rest of us. “GIRL YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING!” She says as soon as the lines connect.

“Why else would I be calling? I have so much to tell you!” You recount the night's events to her with as much detail as you can. Although that doesn’t stop her from trying to pry for more.

“What do you mean he rejected you? I am so confused.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. He just wants to ‘take things slow and do this properly’ as he said in his fancy accent.” You tell her.

“What a gentleman.” Carly muses. “I want one.” She huffs through the phone. “Is Ryan single?”

Saturday’s business hours come and go before you can even process them. I mean, you did close two hours early to get ready but you still didn’t think you weren’t that close to your date with Harry.

Although, you haven’t seen Harry yet today. Ryan is the one who stopped in at lunch time. Ryan claimed it was because Harry was taking care of some business he needed to attend to before your date tonight. Harry told Ryan to make sure you didn’t worry, that you were still on for tonight and that he was sorry he couldn’t be there today. You made your way upstairs and began your getting ready process. Which included a hot shower, exfoliating, shaving every inch.. You know, the everything shower. Carly asked if you wanted her to help you again, but you declined; wanting to take your time with your self care.

Checking your phone for the hundredth time this hour, you finally get the message you’ve been waiting for.

Harry: I’m on my way, love. Can’t wait to see you.

You felt immediate goosebumps all over and butterflies in your stomach. “Oh god.” You think. “I already like him. maybe too much.” You could hear Carly scolding you now, “Bitch, knock it off. You’ve been miserable for long enough.” You think maybe she's right.

Harry’s there to pick you up at 6 pm on the dot. His black Range Rover settled behind him as he watches you make your way across the street. He reaches his hand out for you to grab once you’re close enough and he pulls you to stand between his legs, hands settling on your hips.

“Hello, Love.” He smiles down at you, eyes peering over his expensive sunglasses.

“Ello, govna. Fancy a date wiff meh?” You choke out, in your worst accent possible. He chokes on his own spit at that.

“Oh my g-, what was that?” he says, unable to hold his laughter.

“I thought I'd give your accent a shot.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s a good thing you’re talented in other areas, love, because impressions are not your strong suit.” He says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Shall we go, then?” He says, nodding towards his car.

“We shall.” You let him guide you around the car and open your door for you. (Jackson would never btw) He makes his way back around before sliding into his seat and taking off.

Your second date ensues without a hitch. He took you to a record store! He perused the entire store with you for hours. You both showed each other different albums and explained what they meant to you. He showed you his favorite Pink Floyd record and you showed him your favorite band's sophomore album that had gotten you through some really dark times. He kept eye contact with you and nodded along with your words, expressing his condolences for you having to experience so much already in your life. The fact that he even remembered you mentioning you enjoy vinyl hunting had you sure of one thing, you’re certain you like this man more than you should. And you’re terrified. But in the best way.

Harry gets you home around 10 pm, and walks to your door again.

“I would like to ask you a pretty important question.” Harry states, placing the palm of his hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod, letting him know to continue. “I know this is rather sudden, but I would like to start seeing you. Officially, I mean.” Maneuvering his hands to tilt your face towards him, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Call you mine.” The other cheek. “Make you happy.” Now your forehead. “Treat you with the utmost respect, like you deserve.” He kisses your nose. “Will you let me do that, sweet girl?” He pauses, gauging your reaction.

You nod your head like a mad woman, a massive smile on your face, “Oh god, yes!.” You say. And it feels like an entire weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You never imagined all those months ago that you’d be standing here with your handsome stranger agreeing to start a relationship with him. Who are you? What have you done with Y/N? Is Y/N even in the room with us?

Harry smiles a smile that can only be described as.. painful looking. “My sweet girl, gonna treat you so well. The way you deserve. Been waiting months for this.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You reach your hands up, tangling them in his soft curls, and pull yourself to your tippy toes, attempting to meet his height. “Please,” You whisper against his lips before kissing him again. He leans down over you, trying to pull you as close to him as possible. “Please what, sweet girl?” He teases, “Gotta use your words for me, pretty.” He says, tilting your head back and placing featherlight kisses along your jawline, heading towards your right ear and taking your lobe into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Harry–Fuck.” You groan out. “Please, don’t make me wait again.” You plead, pulling his lips back to yours.

“Is my girl sure this is what she wants? I thought we agreed to take this slow.” He teases again.

“I changed my mind! Please, Harry. Please.” You plead, making him chuckle.

“Who am i to deny you, Love.” He says.

You clumsily make your way upstairs, the both of you too damn stubborn to attempt to break your kiss. Layers of clothing are shed as you make your way into your bedroom. He pauses one more time at the end of your bed, both of you only left in your underwear, “Are you sure about this Love? We can stop right now and it wouldn’t change anything.” You shake your head and push him down, straddling his lap. “I seem to remember a promise you made about taking me upstairs and giving me everything I deserve. I’m waiting for that promise to be kept, Mr. Styles.”

“Well then, allow me to demonstrate.” He says, flipping you both over so you were under him, eliciting a shriek of laughter from you.

1.2.1 (please mind the tags before you read!)

A couple months have passed and it’s cold out again. Harry’s been making good on his promise to treat you well, treat you how you deserve. He still makes his daily stops to get his cupcake and drop your coffee off, and he makes sure to give you the dozens of kisses you demand before he’s allowed to leave. You feel like a different person; you would never be caught dead showing this level of affection to a partner, let alone in a semi public setting. All of your friends are so immensely proud of you, but nobody says anything lest to make you feel embarrassed. Harry claims the title of your biggest fan and your number one supporter. Although he and Carly like to “argue” over that title. You were thrilled to finally have a relationship where your boyfriend and your best friend actually got along.

When Mr. Henry stopped in the day after your first date, you feigned ignorance.

“Good morning, dear. How was your evening?” He inquires, a smirk evident on the elderly man's face.

“Eh, it was pretty boring. I tried out this new recipe for a chocolate ganache to put on a cake. Turned out pretty well. I’m kind of excited.” You say, boxing up his normal order, plus some extras as a thank you for him to find later.

“What do you mean? I thought yo-, wait a minute. You’re being a smart ass aren’t you?” He asks, brows furrowing together.

“What was your end of the deal? I already got it out of the other two. What’s your excuse, huh?” You tease him.

“You little shit. Haha, alright. You got me there. I didn’t agree to get anything in return. There isn’t anything he could give me that I need, dear. I have all I could ever need right here.” He motions to you and Rocco. “I just wanted you to have a chance to be truly happy, like I got to be. I want you to find someone to eat peanut butter cookies for after they're gone. That’s all I asked for from him in return. He said he would do his best to make me proud. And I believe him, dear.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can even process what’s happening.

“Well, now I didn't tell you that to make you cry.” Mr. Henry picks up a napkin and hands it to you, “I’ve told you before, no time for that. You’ve got cookies to sell.”

Jesse has returned from school again for winter break. He’s been keeping tabs on you while he’s been gone though. He was so excited for you when you informed him you and Harry were officially an item.

“Yeah, and you tried telling me you weren’t interested in him.” He says, spinning a rose nail between his fingers like you taught him.

“Ooh, see! now, twist it back and start where you left off.” You said, encouraging his progress. “Ya know, Jesse, I never claimed to be perfect.” You joke.

“I know, girl. I’m just glad you’re letting yourself be happy again. It right hurt my heart to see you so sad. Mr. Henry and I were about to start scheming together.” He picks the rose up off the nail, and sets it down where you have it marked on top of the cake.

“I think all of you did plenty of scheming, don’t you?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Okay, you got me there. But can you blame us?”

“I suppose not.” You say checking the time on your phone. “Hey, Harry asked me to make his cupcake drop at the stadium. Are you okay if I run these to him real fast? I’ll be back in no time at all.”

“Go on, girl. I got this. Go get your man.” Jesse says, starting another rose on the nail. “Still can’t believe you bagged a team owner. Badass — seriously.”

You make the drive to the stadium and you’re surprised to see the team in the parking lot doing drills. You don’t think anything of it and pull into one of Harry’s parking spots near the gate like he told you to do. Gathering your various items, you step out of your car and turn to close the door.

“What are you doing here?” You hear behind you. Jackson.

“Mm, I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” You huff before continuing on your way.

“We haven’t been together for nearly a year, I have no desire to see you here.” Jackson says, rather angrily, following hot on your trail.

“Well, it's a good thing I’m not here to see you. So if you’ll excuse me.” You make a hasty exit from the conversation and let your feet carry you to Harry’s office.

“Hello, my love.” Harry says upon your entrance. “What do you have for me today?”

You half smile at him, “Um, there’s a cookies and cream for you, and the marshmallow filled for Ryan.” You say, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He inquires from his seat.

You nod, even though it’s a lie. He shakes his head at you. “Come here, Love.” he says motioning for you to join him on his side of the desk. He pulls you to sit in front of him on the desk, he cages you in with his arms “Now, you know I don’t like dishonesty, Love.” He starts, “What’s bothering you?”

“I hate that you can read me like a book.” you mumble, your eyes beginning to well with tears.

“Mm, Have been able to since the beginning. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s just Jackson.” You mumble, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Did he say something to you?” Harry says, his tone serious now.

“No! I mean — kind of. The guys were all in the parking lot doing drills and when he saw me, he asked why i was here, I told him it was none of his business, and then he told me he didn’t want me here.”

“I hope you gave that punk an earful.” He says, running his palms over the tops of your clothed thighs..

“I told him that it was a good thing I wasn't here to see him, and to excuse me.” You said, recounting what happened.

“Good girl. That works too. I’ll deal with him. Wanted him gone a long time ago”

“No, please, just leave it be. I don’t want to give him a reason to hate me even more. He still scares me. I didn’t recognize him that night. H-he grabbed my face and told me I n-needed to be m-more obedient to him. Please don’t make it any w-worse, Harry, please,” You plead tears beginning to stream down your face.

“Woah, pretty, let's calm down, yeah?.” He coos, pulling you off of the desk and onto his lap. He rubs soothing circles on your back and guides your breathing. “It’s okay, my sweet girl. Nobody can hurt you. I’ve got you, baby. Everything will be okay.”

Harry holds you for a while longer while he continues to do some of his work at his desk. He glances down at his watch, taking in the time. “I’m sorry, Love, I’ve got a meeting in 15, I would cancel again but that would be three times in a row.” You sit up slowly before you say, “Oh, it’s alright. I’ve gotta get back to Jesse.” He tucks your hair behind your ears and kisses you softly. “Will you be alright getting back? Should I send Ryan with you?

“No, I’ll be okay. Will I see you tonight?” You inquire, standing from his hold.

“Well, of course. I expect my nightly dose of attitude when I get there, too.” He says before giving a light pinch to your ass, making you squeal. “Let me know once you’ve made it back, my love.”

“Yes, sir.” You mumble out and you swear you almost hear Harry groan.

“Keep it up, sweetheart. You might like what happens.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You make your way to the door and he opens it for you, letting you step into the hallway before him. You’re trying to be cute when you attempt to leave without a proper goodbye, but he isn’t having any of that. Harry reaches out and spins you to face him, arms immediately wrapping around your frame, making you giggle.

“And just where do you think you’re going without my ‘see you later’ kiss, hm?” He inquires.

”I’m sorry, who are you?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Oh, baby, allow me to remind you.” And he's kissing you again, making you whimper, but not for long before he’s pulling away.

“Nooo, one more.” you plead, chasing his lips with yours.

“Who are you begging for a kiss from a stranger? Naughty girl.” He teases, making you giggle again. “Off you go, my love. I’ll see you tonight.” and he sends you on your way.

You begin to make your way to your car, unaware of the following eyes. You start to hear the echo of footsteps behind you, so you peer over your shoulder and see Jackson at the end of the hall trailing behind you. You panic and begin to speed walk the last bit to your car before locking your doors once inside.

“You know, I thought you were pathetic, but this is ridiculous.” You hear through your driver side window.

“Go away, Jackson.”

“How long have you been fucking him? Huh? How long have you been plotting this? Was this your plan all along? Sleep your way up the football hierarchy? I gotta say, you made one hell of a jump; quarterback to owner? Damn girl. Could’ve at least started with an offensive coordinator, or one of the coaches.” His words were coming at you so fast.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you wanted me first, remember?” You say, starting your car.

“You’re a right bitch, you know that? He’ll realize it soon enough and leave you in the dust like I did.”

“Did you literally forget that I’m the one who left you, genius?” You said before backing out, and pulling away.

Jackson stood and watched your car leave the parking lot, a scheme brewing in his big ass head. “I’ve got just the way to make you crumble, princess, don’t worry.” He says, laughing to himself before making his way back into the stadium.

Christmas is coming, really fast. Like in three days fast. You realize you have nothing for anybody besides Jesse. You’d gotten him a figurine of his favorite character from his favorite anime. With the promise to Jesse of as many cupcakes as he wanted, you asked him if he’d cover by himself for a few hours while you attempted to get something for Harry, Carly, Mr. Henry, Rocco, and Ryan of course. Jesse of course accepted, settling on the idea of continuing his cake decorating. You dress yourself for the cold and make your way to the mall you know has everything.

Carly, Mr. Henry, and Rocco are all very easy to shop for. Carly loves wine, makeup, and the show Sex & The City. Mr. Henry always enjoys extra cookies of course, but you also like to get him a new set of cold gear every year. He wears them until they’re worn out until the next Christmas. He says he always appreciates it because his wife used to do the same, and that it really makes him feel cared for. That man just loves to make you cry by being sweet, and then tell you to knock it off for crying. You can't ever win with him. Rocco of course loves a good treat bag and a new toy. But you always make sure to get him a doggy scarf to match with Mr. Henry’s.

You’d even surprisingly found something for Ryan, well two things. One of them is just a tie in a very specific color he mentioned liking, and the other is a pen that makes a sound when he clicks the top. It says “Yes, Mr. Styles.” in Ryan’s voice. You swore you’ve heard Ryan say those words more than you’ve heard him say anything else. Makes sense since he is Harry’s right hand man. But now, here we are. Nothing for arguably the most important person.

Taking out your phone on your journey back to your car, you tap on his contact. He answers the phone on the second ring. ”Hi, sweet girl. You okay?”

You giggle, “Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” Reaching your car, you set your bags in the trunk and slide into the driver's seat.

“Well, you never have time to call me in the middle of the day, so I thought something might be wrong.” He says, his voice seeming calmer now.

“Oh, yeah, I’m out shopping. I guess I actually do kind of need your help.” You make his heart rate pick up at him hearing you needing him for something. He knew how hard asking for help was for you, no matter how small the act in question was, so he was proud of you.

“I’m all ears, baby. What can I do for you?”

You hesitate for a moment, “What is something you think you’d like for christmas?”

You can hear him sigh a laugh through the phone. “Baby, I don’t need anything from you. I have all I could ever need. You gave me everything the day you agreed to be mine.”

His words make you tear up, but your bratty side still takes over 99% of the time. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” You say, tone feigning attitude.

“Mm, sometimes my girlfriend does when she’s pretending to be pissed at me.” He quips back at you.

“She sounds like a handful.”

“She’s many things, but never that.” He’s doing that thing again where he talks about how easy it is to love you. “She thinks her words are sharp enough to cut.” He starts again, “But I think she’s just deflecting.”

“I hate you.” You whisper, but he can hear your smile through the phone.

“Are you sure about that, Love?

“Yes, you still didn’t answer my question. I asked what you wanted, not what you needed.” Attempting to steer the conversation from where it was going.. But that didn’t work out very well.

“Sweet girl, I don’t think you want me to tell you what I want over the phone when I know what I’d tell you would leave you an achy mess for the rest of the day.” there’s not a single ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“Like you’d pass up an opportunity to make me squirm.” You say, a real attitude prevalent in your tone. Since he wants to go there.

“Is that a challenge? I can start listing all the ways I plan on making you squirm once I get my hands on you. You want that?”

“Y-yes.” You breathe out. Until you realize you’re sitting in your car. Sitting in your car in a public parking lot. Y/N, get a grip. “I mean, n-no. No. Stop distracting me.” You clear your throat. “Tell me something you want for Christmas, I’m serious Harry.”

“You really want to know?” He says quietly, but you know that voice.

“Nope. Bye.” You say hanging up on him. You knew exactly where that was going. He immediately calls you back but you send him to voicemail. Putting your car in drive, you take off after the perfect idea popped into your head. You just hoped this place still had what you were looking for. Harry’s still trying to call you but you’ve turned on DND. You start to get excited wondering what his reaction will be to that.

Making your way back to the bakery, you’d called Jesse ahead of time requesting his help with the big box while you got the bags. “Where do you want this box?” He asks walking in after you.

“Would you mind taking it upstairs? Pretty pleaaaase?” You say, setting your bags on the counter.

“You got it, girl. Be right ba-, wait, keys? Oh, I see them. Be right back.”

You turn to see the cake he was working on, thoroughly impressed by his progress. His roses are damn near perfect at this point. Now if he could just get some not dude looking handwriting, he’ll be golden! You’re turning the cake to check out the other side when the doorbell chimes. Without taking your eyes off the cake you begin to speak, “Welcome in, give me just one second.” Lifting your hands up you begin to slide the cake off of the lazy susan before turning to place the cake in the cooler. But when you turn around, you’re met with Jackson; standing at your bakery counter with a blue folder in his hand, and a devious smile on his face. He has you cornered. And Jesse is still upstairs. The cake falls from your hands right onto the floor in front of your feet.

“I finally have a way to make you pay for what you did to my career, you football ladder climbing slut.” He sneers at you, waving the folder back and forth.

“I-I d-don’t, wh-what?”

“You. You ruined me when you left.”

“I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t say anything about you. I don’t even think I unfollowed you for heaven's sake, Jackson.” You say getting louder, hoping Jesse will hear and come back down. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’ve played like shit since you left. You fucked with my head and I haven’t played the same.”

“I fucked with your head? You’re joking right?”

“Dead serious, princess. As serious as this folder right here. Here, this is your copy anyways." He says, sliding your bags off the counter, sending the limited edition Pink Floyd album that you had just bought Harry for Christmas onto the floor. Completely shattering it. The album was a first edition pressing from 1975 when the album came out. Harry wouldn’t let you buy it for him the night of your first date. “Haven’t got a turntable, Love. I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it properly.” But that’s what Jesse was taking upstairs. You’d bought him a turntable and his first record. That was now shattered on the floor. “Oops.” Jackson says, feigning an apology.

“What do you want, Jackson?” You say, snatching the folder from his hand.

“I now own this entire building, and you have one week to get all of your shit and get the fuck out.” He says, inching closer to you over the counter.

Your eyes widen. “W-what, what the fuck are you talking about? Jesse! Jesse, come back, please!” You scream, flipping through the pages of the folder.

“Jesse, come back, please!” Jackson mocks you. “Jesse can’t do shit.” but that's when Jesse comes barreling down the stairs.

“Ah ah ah, pretty boy. I will own everything you own in the matter of seconds once you lay a finger on me. Let me explain to the both of you — since you demanded an audience — how this works.” He says, sauntering over to the table by the window and plopping down in the chair. “You own this business, not the building.” That is true. Your business is a part of a strip of brick buildings and they all have apartments above them. You paid rent every month like everyone else did along the strip. “The building was owned by Jeff Walker, who just so happened to get a pretty nice cash offer from yours truly. And now I’m the owner. How does that make you feel, princess? You wanna sleep with me again now that I own something?”

His words make you want to vomit. You’re thankful Harry has never called you princess.

“Dude, get out of here. Don’t make me call the cops.” Jesse says, stepping in front of the counter.

“Oh, I’m not staying. Just gotta let my tenants know who their new landlord is. You got a week, princess. And you’re out.” He says, flinging the door open before leaving.

You’re frozen. You’re staring at the papers saying Jackson owns your building, and you’re frozen. You can’t move. You can’t think. You almost can't even breathe. You don’t even hear Jesse calling your name. Not until he grips your shoulders and shakes you.

“Y/N, come on, come back to me.” He pleads. But you’re sinking to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. He panics. Looking in your bag, he grabs your phone and calls Harry.

“Oh, now you want to continue what you started earlier? I see how you are, Naughty girl.” Harry says when he answers the phone.

“Look man, I’ll pretend like i didn’t hear that if you please get to Y/N’s shop as soon as you possibly can.”

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” Panic rising in Harry’s tone.

“Jackson was here, there’s some folder. I don–, just get here, please. She needs you.”

“Fuck, Okay. I am on my way right now. Thank you for calling me, Jesse. Tell her I’ll be there soon.”

Jesse gets down on the floor with you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, you’re good. Harry’s on his way, alright?”

Harry gets to your shop in record time. Pushing the door open and rushing inside like his life depended on it. “Baby? Where are you?” he asks, not seeing anybody.

“We’re down here!” Jesse claims from behind the counter. Harry walks around the counter taking in the sight before him. You’re cradled into Jesse, absolutely shaking.

“Oh no, my girl. Come here, baby.” He says.

“She says she can’t stand.”

“Oh, I know she can. She’s strong. C’mon baby, let's go upstairs.” He says, placing his hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, I know you can.”

You shake your head. “H-he b-bought the building, H-harry.” You cry out, “I’m going to lose ever—” Unable to speak, your sobs take over.

“What is she talking about?” He asks, looking at Jesse, not wanting you to try to talk anymore.

“It’s all in that folder.’ Jesse nods his head towards the counter next to Harry.

He picks it up, flipping through the contents. “Hah, that fucker.” He says, folding the folder in half and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “Alright, Love.” He says, leaning down to pull you up and into his arms. “Up we go.” He tosses you slightly to get his arms in the right spots under your knees and across your back.

“I’ll take care of everything down here. Thank you for coming, man.” Jesse gently grabs Harry’s shoulder.

“Of course. Thank you for calling.” Harry responds before he disappears with you up the stairs.

He walks you into the bathroom and sets you down on the counter before trying to step away from your hold, but your arms remained locked around his neck. “No. Stay. Please.”

“I am, baby, I want to run you a bath.” He chuckles, “Promise, I'm coming right back, yeah?” he presses his lips to your temple to soothe you. You nod and let him go. Harry walks over to the bathtub and turns the knob. Setting his arm out to test the water until it’s warm enough for your liking, and drops the stopper in the drain. Before returning to you, he drops some of your lavender bubble bath that’s placed on the side of your tub. He stands between your legs again and places his hands on your hips. “Alright, my girl, arms up.” He says while grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Will y-you get in w-with me?” You ask as he reaches behind you to gently undo your bra.

“Of course, If that’s what you want.” He’s reaching down to unbutton your jeans and you slide down off the counter so he can pull them down your legs along with your underwear. “My girl. I hate seeing you so sad. Let’s get you relaxed. Deal with what we can right now, yeah?” You nod, trying to even out your breathing. He pulls his clothes from his body before settling in the tub. Harry holds his hand out to help guide you, “Careful, don’t slip.” he says as you set your foot down into the warm water. You sink down and Harry pulls you to lay on his front, wrapping his arms around your waist before sinking so you're both covered by the water. “Alright, sweetheart, you’re safe now. I’m here with you,” He says, rubbing soothing circles where his thumbs rest on your hips.

“He’s ruined everything, Harry.” You cry.

“Baby, he hasn’t ruined anything yet. He’s got a piece of paper saying he’s giving Walker some money. We can’t solve anything about that right now. Let’s focus on what we can solve, okay? What can we solve right now, even if it’s small?” He asks you, reaching up to rub his hands all over your back.

You shake your head, “Can you just hold me, please?”

“Course i can. We can talk later if you want?”

“Can you just talk? Distract me?”

“Absolutely, love. About anything in particular?”

“Talk to me about your tattoos.” You say, running your fingers over the ones you can see on his chest.

Harry goes into his story about when he started getting his tattoos. He tells you the stories behind the ones that mean the most to him. He explains his tattoos as a collection of memories of instances in his life that he never wants to forget. You think that sounds wonderful.

“Would you get one for me?” You ask, partially teasing.

“Of course I would. I’d do it tomorrow.”

“Wait, really? I wasn’t serious. That’s permanent, Harry.”

“Really? They are? I had no idea.” He teases you. “Better get my money back. I was wondering why they weren’t coming off in the shower.”

“You’re so annoying.” You huff at him, making him breathe a laugh through his nose. “What would you get for me?”

“Hm, hard to tell. Perhaps the outline of a cupcake?” He muses at you.

“I quite like that idea, Mr. Styles.”

“I enjoy any idea that keeps a piece of you with me forever.” He says placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know, you give my cupcakes a run for their money with your sweetness.” You say earning a chuckle from him.

Harry continues to hold you until you begin to stir. “Are you ready to get out?” He’s looking down at you, continuing his ministrations with his hands on your hips.

You nod, “Yeah. Will you keep holding me though?” You ask.

“Anything you want, baby.” He assures you.

Harry gently dries you off before helping you brush your hair, and put a set of your pajamas on. You’ve seen every inch of this man but these actions here feel so much more intimate to you. You’ve never felt so cared for in your life. He slides into a pair of his clothes that you keep in a drawer for him in your dresser--He melted when you told him that it was his drawer– and he gets into your bed with you. He curls himself around you, face tucked into your neck, an arm sliding under your shoulders, and the other across your waist, and he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

You’re soothed by the soft thump of his heartbeat against your back, and the warmth of his even breaths against your neck. Your breathing finally begins to fully calm, and you slowly stop shaking.

“M’ so tired, Harry.” You whisper. He places a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

“You wanna take a nap, baby? I’ll stay with you.” He says, breath tickling your throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m tired of everything going wrong.”

“Everything hasn’t gone wrong, sweetheart. I will look into this first thing in the morning, okay?”

“He broke your christmas present.” You say, turning yourself in his hold so you were facing him. “I found you the perfect gift and it’s gone. Shattered, Harry.”

“Baby, I told you, you’re the best gift I could have asked for. Material things are great, but I’d rather have you.” He says, cradling the side of your face.

“You have me all the time, Harry. Why do you always have the right thing to say?” You roll your eyes at him, trying not to smile. He makes it so hard to be upset. He looks at things with such a positive outlook and it’s so contagious.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He quips, sliding his hand under your jaw and lightly squeezing, eliciting a whimper from you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, blinking your lashes at him.

“Sure you don’t, pretty.” He says, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day. We’ll start over tomorrow, okay? Is there anything else we can do tonight to make you feel a little better?” He says while peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “Anything at all, baby?” You know exactly what he wants, how he wants to distract you.

“Nope, not a thing.” You say as he slides his other hand further down your body, teasing the hem of your sleep shorts. “Can’t think of anything else I n–eed toni–, ohh.” The tips of his fingers find that spot, and you’re at a loss for words; He stole them right from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue. You reach your hands up, winding them in his hair and pull him off of you, “Please, don’t stop.” You say before connecting your lips again.

“Oh, but I thought my girl didn’t need anything else from me?” He teases.

“Harry, I swear to god I'll kill you.”

“Ooh, she’s feisty now, everybody.” He says while gently turning you two over so he’s leaning over you. “Sure you can’t think of anything else you need?” You shake your head, trying to pull his face to yours, and hooking your leg around his hip to pull him closer, but he’s not budging. “Gotta use your words for me, baby.”

You pout at him, “I hate you.”

“Sure you do, sweetheart. Gonna tell me what you need?”

“You. Need you. Please.”

Harry wakes up a few hours later to the feeling of you wrapped around him. If you asked him, he’d take this version of waking up every day. But he'll have that conversation with you later, when he knows you’re ready to have it.

Slowly, he peels himself away from you, it warms his heart to see your sleeping frame frown at the loss of his warmth. “I’ll be right back, baby. Just need to make a call.” He whispers against your forehead before pressing a kiss. He knows you’re sleeping, but just in case a small part of you wasn't, he didn't want that small part to worry. Harry quietly pulls your bedroom door shut before making his way into your kitchen. He finds his jacket and retrieves his phone, immediately calling Ryan.

“Yes, Mr. Styles?” Ryan says as soon as he answers the phone.

“Ryan, I need you to do something.” Harry breathes into the phone. “I need you to get a meeting with Jeff Walker. As soon as possible.”

Stretching your arm to the right, you feel the cold sheets of your bed. You sit up and notice your door is slightly ajar, and faintly you can hear the clattering of pans in the kitchen.

“Harry?” You call out, slipping out of the comfort of your bed. You wince at the ache in your legs once you pull yourself to stand. Harry’s sweatshirt is laying on the ottoman at the end of your bed, so you slip that over your head and make your way towards the sounds in the kitchen.

Taking in the sight before you, a shirtless Harry standing at the counter, whisking something together in a large bowl. His sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his hair is wildly unkempt looking. But you’d wake up to this sight every day if he asked you to. He’s still unaware of your presence, so to really get his attention you saunter over behind him and slowly snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek against his bare back.

“Good morning, pretty.” He says placing one of his hands over yours on his chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, like a baby.” You hum against his back. “My legs are sore though, you menace.” He chuckles at that, turning himself in your hold, wrapping his arms around you.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, placing a kiss on your temple.

“No, not at all.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Rolling our eyes this early? You a masochist or something?” He teases you, pinching your ass and making you jolt.

You shake your head and press your face into his chest. “No. You’re just annoying.”

“Mm, mhm. So annoying, baby.” He says before kissing the crown of your head. Harry then reaches his hands down the backs of your thighs and lifts you onto the counter.. “Let me finish this, and then I’m all yours until we have to get ready for work. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t think I can do it today, Harry. I’m so mentally exhausted. I don’t want to open my shop if I won’t be able to open it a week from now.”

“Oh, my sweet girl. Everything will fall into place, I promise.” He says cupping your cheek; swiping over the surface with his thumb.

“How can you stand there and say that? How can you know that?” You say, not accusingly but with a pleading tone. You want nothing more than to believe him, but you’ve lost so much in your life, it's hard to believe in any kind of positive outcome.

“I don’t. But you have to look at it that way. You have to give yourself something to hope for. You’re just making yourself miserable by expecting the worst.”

“It’s easier if I expect the worst and then the worst happens. I prepared myself for it at least.”

“No, baby. That’s not healthy.” He says tilting your head back to look into your eyes. “I know you’ve been through so much, and it always feels like life is out to get you. But I promise it’s not all bad out there. There are so many exciting things for you to experience, but you have to try. You have to have hope. Can you try for me today?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Please, my girl?” You slowly nod your head in his hold, but he shakes his. “Nuh uh, baby. I need to hear you say you’re going to try for me today.”

“I pr-promise I’ll try, Harry.” He smiles at you.

“Good girl.” He says, stepping back to the stove, but not before pecking your lips.

He continues to make breakfast and serves you at the island. As he places the plates down, his phone vibrates next to him. A message from Ryan displayed on the screen.

Right Hand Ryan: Good morning Mr. Styles. Walker agreed to a meeting this morning at 10:30. I’ll see you when you arrive at the office.

Harry: Thank you, Ryan.

Going about the rest of your morning routine with Harry feels so domestic and right to you. You still can’t believe that a stranger you met in a parking lot would mean this much to you now. You’re certain of how you feel, but you won’t let the words come out. But Harry knows. He can see it in how you look at him. He just hopes you can tell he feels the same in the way he looks at you.

The two of you make your way downstairs, just in time for Jesse to make his way inside to help open.

“Good morning you two. I wasn’t sure what the plan was but I was gonna show up either way.” Jesse says from the doorway.

“We’re gonna milk this for all it’s worth and go from there.” You say, squeezing Harry’s hand beside you. He squeezes yours right back. “Everything will fall into place.”

“Hell yeah. I like the sound of that.” Jesse says, pumping his fist in the air. “I’ll get my stuff set up then. See you later, Harry. Thanks again for yesterday.” He says, giving Harry a fist bump before he goes into the back room.

“What a lovely pep talk, baby. Sounds like you’ve got a great life coach.” Harry says leaning down to kiss you.

“Mm, not sure about a life coach. But I’ve got a pretty good boyfriend.”

“Can he fight? Because you’re mine, in case you forgot.”

“Not sure about that. I’m sure he can though. He’s good at everything he does. Especially this one thing with his ton-,”

“Okay, pretty, I really have to go, and if you finish tha-“ you cut him off with a kiss.

“Off you go, my sweet boy.” You say smiling up at him. He’s got hearts in his eyes at the moniker. You haven’t called him anything but Harry all these months.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he grumbles before kissing you once more, and then he’s gone.

Jesse does his best to distract you throughout the morning. He kept showing you how well he could form a rose now on the nail. It was so nice seeing him so proud of himself. You felt so happy knowing that the knowledge you taught him was making this kind of impact on him.

It’s Christmas Eve. Harry asked you to spend the holiday with him at his place, but you begged him to spend it with you at yours. You said you wanted to spend as much time in your place as you could before it was no longer yours. It tugged at his heartstrings and he folded. You had no idea of the trick up his sleeve anyhow. So the place he presented it to you was of no matter.

“Baby, can you help me with this real fast?” You say from the living room. Harry nearly slices his finger off at you calling him ‘baby’. He still hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him your ‘sweet boy’ the other day. After hearing both of these names you’ve chosen for him he’s certain he never wants to hear you call him Harry again.

“Y-yeah, of course.” He says setting the knife down and walking over to you. You’re setting up the christmas tree you had tucked away in the closet, but you can't quite reach to set the star on top. “What’s up, pretty? Oh, you’re being vertically challenged, eh?” He teases, taking the star from your grasp and placing it atop the tree. He turns and looks at you and chuckles at the frown etched all over your face.

“Shut up. It’s not like I can help it.” You huff. “Not everyone is a big, tall, pain in the ass of a man.” You say as he inches closer to you, winding his arms around you and pulling you closer with every word that left your lips.

“I know, I’m sooo annoying and such a pain in the ass. I know, baby.” He coos at you, placing a kiss to your forehead. You spin in his hold and take in the state of your christmas tree. “Looks beautiful, my girl. He places another kiss to your temple.

“Does it? Is it good enough to be our first christmas tree?” You ask quietly. Placing your hands over his arms as they lay across your chest.

“You kiddin’? Course it is. You did it, so it's perfect.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. It’s true.” One of his hands travels south to pinch your ass, again.

“How would you know I rolled my eyes? You can’t even see my face.”

“Mm, on the contrary, my love. I see your face every time I close my eyes. But I know you rolled your eyes because I know you.” Harry says, spinning you back around in his hold. “Now, come. We have much to do in the kitchen.”

“Harry, I’m not kissing you every 30 seconds because you bought yourself a ‘Kiss the Cook!’ apron.

“No, no. None of that in my kitchen right now. We’ve got a meal to prepare. Now, follow my lead.” He says placing your hands on his hips and guiding you to the kitchen.

Harry had two different gifts to give you, but he had to wait until early Christmas morning to get one of them. He wooed you with a delicious home cooked meal, some wine and another bath that wasn’t so PG rated thanks to said wine, and a good cuddle session before bed.

Harry stirs awake just a little before the sunrise. He eases himself from your hold and sneaks his way into the living room. Looking for the item in question, he places it into the gift box and sets it under the tree with the other presents, and then tiptoes back to your bedroom to lay with you until you wake up. He sets himself back down on your bed and inches his way towards you, careful not to wake you before you’re ready. (He made that mistake before) You stir slightly in your sleep and turn towards him, placing your hand on his chest. He takes the opportunity to take that hand in his and position himself under you so you could rest your head on his chest. He studies your face and takes in how serene you look. How at peace, how happy you look. It makes tears burn at the seams of his eyes, but you begin to move and he wipes them away.

“Too early.” You mumble, pulling your comforter up over your head.

“Ah, but baby, Santa was here and I think he wants you to open your presents.” Harry coos at you, slowly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Santa can fuck off.” You huff.

“Such language. You kiss your man with that mouth?” He quips at you, placing a soft smack to your ass.

“Mm, all the time. Says he loves my filthy mouth.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart.” He concurs. “But, I do really need you to get up. We’ve got a breakfast to make and presents to open, my sweet girl.” He says placing his arms under your legs, and your back before lifting you from your bed.

“Harry! Stop, I need pants.” You say as he leaves your bedroom.

“Oh, I beg to differ on that one, love.” He says setting you down on the couch.

“It’s cold in here, you horn dog.” You scold him.

“Ah, but I can think of so many things we could do to warm you up that don’t involve pants.”

“Oh my god, down boy. Take your bone and chill.” You say making your way back to your room.

Upon your return, Harry is waiting for you on the couch, quite literally looking like a kid on Christmas. “Come sit with me.” He says holding his hand out to you. Taking your seat next to him, he pulls your legs to rest in his lap before reaching over and grabbing the two gift boxes he has for you.

“Oh, yours is that big box right there.” You point next to the tree. He smiles and grabs the box and places it in front of him. He hands you the first of the two boxes he wants you to open. Pulling the ribbon from the top of the box, you pull the top of the box off and open it to find a singular key. “It’s a key.” You say. “I’m lost.” You laugh out.

“That, my love, is a key to my house.” He deadpans, searching your face for a reaction. “If you want it, of course.” You snap your head to look at him. Tears have formed in your waterline and your lip begins to quiver. “Oh, baby. This wasn’t meant to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He says pulling you into his embrace.

“No, No, it's fine. Really. I’m happy.” You assure him. “I’m so happy.” You say pressing your lips to his. “So, so, so happy.”.

“So you’ll move in with me?” He asks excitedly.

“Of course I will.” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving a kiss on his palm. “I’d love nothing more, baby.”

“You keep calling me that.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry, do you not like it?”

“No, I don't like it.” He deadpans, making you sweat a little. “I love it. Please keep going.”

“Oh, okay you narcissist. Your turn to open something.” You say lightly pushing him off of you.

“Alright, alright.” He slides the big box closer to him. “I thought I told you I didn't need anything from you.” He says.

“I thought I told you to shut up and open your present.” You scold him

“Okay, down girl.” He muses at you. Harry starts tearing the wrapping paper to get to the present beneath it. He’s met with the words ‘Audio Technica’ and a smile breaks onto his face. “A turntable? You got me a turntable?” He looks to you with adoration in his eyes.

“Yeah, thought you might like to start your own collection since you liked going through mine so much.” You say smiling at him.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” He says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Thank you, baby. I absolutely love it.”

“There was another part to it, but that’s the part that Jackson broke.” You whispered out. “I went back to that record store you took me to on our second date and got you that limited edition Pink Floyd record. I wanted to get you your first record too.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I love this without the record. We can always find another one someday.”

“I guess you’re right.” You huff.

“Course I am. Now, I believe you have one more present to open.” He says handing you the other little gift box. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you pull the top off of the box.

“It’s.. my keys?” You say pulling your keys from the box. “What is it with you and keys?” You ask him. He just stares at you with a shit eating grin. “Well?”

“Allow me to explain.” Harry says before his story begins.

The morning of his meeting with Jeff Walker, he’d been determined to change the outcome of this purchase no matter what it took. He was certain things would go in his favor; they always did. It also helped that Walker was a past associate of Harry’s so there was already a mutual respect there.

Walker knocks on Harry’s office door and Ryan lets him in. The men shake hands and proceed to take their respective seats. “Harry, you old dog. I must say, I was surprised to get your meeting request, old friend. How long has it been?” “Too long, Jeff. How’s the wife?” Harry muses from his seat.

“Ah, Janet is lovely. She’s actually in Japan right now, but she is not the reason you wanted this meeting. So, my good man, do enlighten me.

“Nothing gets by you, Jeff. I indeed do need your help.”

“Well, I am all ears. Always willing to help an old friend in need. What can I do for you, Styles?”

“First, let me ask you this, what exactly is your business with Jackson Cole?” Harry asks, fiddling with the pen between his fingers.

“Ah, that boy. He came to me a few weeks ago asking if he could buy a property of mine. Says he wants to delve into the realm of property owning.” Jeff begins, “But at first I wasn’t budging. That was until he offered to pay in cash. So I accepted his offer.”

“See, that’s where my problem is.”

“I’m not following, Harry.”

“Jeff, I met a girl this year and she’s turned out to mean more to me than anyone else on this planet.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of a problem to me.” Jeff laughs from his seat.

“No, that’s not the problem.” Harry chuckles, “The problem is that she used to be in a relationship with Cole. A toxic one; He was horrible to her. And now Cole is planning on using the building he’s purchasing from you to try and ruin her life. Her business is in that building, and he’s told her she’s got a week to get out.”

“Well, the sale isn’t even finalized until next week.” Jeff says from his chair. “And I don’t like the sound of this kid. I’m surprised he’s still here.”

“That’s being handled once we’re done here,” Harry muses, “So there’s time then? To cancel the deal?”

“Indeed, but i quite liked the idea of selling that building, Harry, i can’t even lie to you.”

“I’ll buy it then. I’ll give you what he was going to give you. I’ll even throw in covering the cancellation costs and a stipend for you.”

“You really like this girl, huh, Styles?”

“You have no idea, Jeff. Do we have a deal?” Harry asks, reaching his hand across his desk.

“Of course, old friend.” He grabs Harry’s hand in a firm shake, “Let’s try to not let as much time pass before our next meeting, Harry.”

“Agreed, Jeff. Have a great trip back to the city. I greatly appreciate your time today.”

“I hope you make that girl's day when you tell her.” Jeff says before making his way out. Harry lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He was certain he’d be able to get what he needed from this meeting, but it still shook him to his core to know that Y/N’s business was on the line. He was willing to do whatever it took, but he was thankful Jeff was so willing to help Harry out. Although it might be because Harry had been Jeff’s biggest donor when he was starting his company. But Jeff would never admit that.

“Are you going to tell Y/N?” Ryan asks from his desk in the corner.

“Soon, yes. First, I need you to get Cole in here. Tell him I’m not asking.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.” Ryan says before leaving the office in search of Jackson.

“Y-you bought this place?” You ask him, unable to contain your tears anymore. "I thought you said Walker backed out of the deal."

“He did, out of the deal with Jackson and into one with me. It's all yours, Love.”

“Wait. Harry, I don’t know how to be a landlord.”

“Ah, not to worry, love. I’ll take care of all of that. You just worry about making your sweets and running your business. But I still want you to come home to me every night.”

“Harry.” You say. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. You don’t have to say anything at all.” He says cradling you to his chest.

“I just can’t believe someone would do something like this for me.” You say cupping his face with both hands.

He reaches up and grips your wrists lightly and looks into your eyes, “I would do anything for you, my perfect girl.” He kisses you softly. “I love you.. So much.” He says, happy tears streaming down his face as he looks at you with such adoration.

Those words. Those words you’d been so desperate to hear for the longest time, and for someone to mean them? You’re a mess. Harry showed you that it’s okay to get your hopes up, because he’ll max out your expectations every time. You’re sure you’re bawling but can’t seem to care. You’re certain you feel the same. “And I love you so much, my sweet, perfect boy.” You say before kissing him with more fervor than you ever have before. He pulls away and he’s looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “Merry Christmas, Baby.” You say to him.

“Merry Christmas, Love.”

Bonus:

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Styles?” Jackson says as he enters Harry’s office.

“Indeed, son. Have a seat.” Harry motions to the chairs across from his desk. Jackson takes a seat and glances around the room warily.

“Now, I’m going to explain this to you very quickly and carefully, Cole. You are going to walk out of this office, go into the locker room and clear your shit out.” “Wait a sec-” Jackson begins to speak, but Harry’s quicker.

“Silence. I’m speaking.” Harry says, waving his hand. “As I was saying, after you’ve cleared out your locker, there's a plane waiting for you at the airport. Your apartment is in the process of being sold and all your items are being packed at this very moment. The plane will be taking you to Los Angeles where you will join their 53 man roster as a third string quarterback.”

“Third string? What is the meaning of this, sir?”

“I am so glad you asked.” Harry muses. “It seems you can’t leave alone what’s mine. So I'm removing you from the situation in a way that keeps you alive, me out of prison, and my girlfriend's mind at ease.”

“Mr. Styles, with all due respect I’m of more use to you here.”

“Really? A dead last draft pick that cant keep his feet on the ground is of use to me here? How does that make any sense? The same dead last draft pick that fumbled the ball more times than I could count in last year's championship game?”

“Sir, please, I’ll do anyth–”

“Enough. The decision has been made, Cole. You’re free to go. Say goodbye to your teammates and be on your way.” Harry says, making Jackson stand from his seat. “One more thing,” Harry starts before Jackson can leave, “If you ever try to speak to, bother, or even breathe the same air as Y/N again, I will have your career. You’re lucky you still have one. You can thank her for that. She wouldn’t be able to live with it if I’d gotten to do what I actually wanted to. So, count your blessings, boy.” He pauses briefly, taking in the look of anger and desperation all over Jackson’s face. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Styles.”

a/n 2.0: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMING ALONG WITH ME ON THIS JOURNEY!! THANK YOU AGAIN TO MOTHER @freedomfireflies FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT AND LOVE. I really owe so much to you!! I absolutely adore you 🫶🏻🩵

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed <3

taglist: @stylesfever @olipoli21 @hermionelove @st-ev-ie @mrs-anna-styles211994 @hannah9921 @velvetballaspark

#harry x reader #mdni & dividers both by @/cafekitsune #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles

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cattimeswithjellie · 11 months

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I love Doc's villain arc so much, I cannot even tell you. Guy's out here going full Dr. Doofenschmirtz and I have nothing but love and respect for that. Wronged by his neighbors, he comes up with a full-on immensely complicated Evil Skull-inator that harnesses the incredible destructive power of the game's most destructive mob and uses it to... try and destroy Scarland's Yelp rating, basically.

I'm serious, he shoots wither bullets all over Scarland not to destroy and wreak havoc, but just because he thinks they look scary. He then does an entire little roleplay as an extremely German five-year-old child and their parent, touring Scarland and being terrified by the wither bullets so they leave a bad review. With his dastardly plan explained, he then has to clean up the mess he made in Scar's garden because to not do so would be unacceptably rude, and then he stops to gush a little bit over the wonderful armor stand art and how beautiful the whole place is. (He also explains to the audience that it is really hard to be a villain in a place like Hermitcraft because it is tough to get mad and stay mad at your friends.) Oh, and he also has a personalized musical number that plays while he is doing his villainy.

Basically all the guy needs at this point is a tragic backstory and a platypus (or maybe a gray tabby cat) in a fedora and he will fully realize his destiny as a cartoon villain.

#hermitcraft #docm77 #goodtimeswithscar #tunnel bore war #phineas and ferb #he even has a lab coat for no real reason is everybody else seeing the parallels here?

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mj0702 · 1 month

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The other Bronze – Part 10

okay.... this is a short one but it'll do for tonight 😅

thanks to my gold star anon and my manager @valewosomtb who's also my inspiration

also a big hug to MY bubs @samkerrworshipper

“BUBS!!!” you heard your sister yell down the hallway again “Move your ass – Kei will be picking us up in roughly 10 minutes!”

“COMING...” you yelled back from the guest room which you claimed as yours now

“Jesus Christ woman... calm your non existing tits” you mumbled as you closed your bag slung it over your shoulder looking once around the room again that you packed everything essential before walking down the hallway towards Lucy

“Why does everything has to be last minute with you?” your sister asked nervous going through her bag a fifth time “Do you have everything?”

“Yes mom” you rolled your eyes

“Shorts and Shirts?” she continued to question you and you nodded

“Joggers and sweaters? It's England after all” Lucy went through her mental list

“Yes” you sighed out annoyed

“Socks?”

“Always can wear yours” you mumbled knowing your sister doesn't even want an answer from you she just needs to get it out

“Okay... should I pack the harness?” Lucy mumbled to herself which caused you to look at her horrified

“Scuse me???” you shrieked

“I don't know if I need it...” your sister scratched her brow

“For WHO?????” you squeaked out

“You of course” Lucy looked at you confused

“I'M YOUR SISTER!!!!!” you lost it – right there and then

“I KNOW” your sister imitated your tone

“That's just... no... you can't be serious!!” you retreated to be aghast

“Of course I'm serious... I mean Sarina maybe need it too... you can be quite the handful” Lucy said not understanding why you would make such a big deal out of it

“I... I... I... WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU????” you screeched bewildered

“What is wrong with YOU???? Dear god, I know you don't like Bronzo but I need to concentrate on training not wonder if you're wandering around London again getting lost” your sister said looking at you like you have two heads

“Bronzo?” you asked confused after a minute

“Yes... Bronzo... what did you thought I was talking about?” Lucy shook her head

“Ehrm... nothing” you huffed embarrassed your cheeks heating up

Lucy looked at you puzzled recapping your conversation in her head before she turned to you with wide eyes

“You thought I'm talking about the OTHER harness?????!!!! Oh my God... oh god... NO!!! I was talking about Bronzo” she said more than shocked as she realized you were talking about her little fun toy for Onas and her “alone time”

“I'm happy with Bronzo” you squeaked out your face still red “Bronzo is a good guy”

“We'll NEVER talk about that conversation ever again” Lucy said firmly swallowing hard

“Agreed” you nodded quickly

“Underwear?” she looked at you expectantly

“Not planning to wear any” you sarcastically answered

“Back and pack underwear” she pointed down the hallway as she heard honking from the outside

“Okay... no more time... we'll buy some in London” Lucy said even more nervous as she opened the door grabbing her bags and started to walk towards Keiras Car closing the door behind her

You just stood in the hallway with a blank face waiting for your sister to realize that she – again – forgot you. You already were used to this. Not the first time you travelled with her – normally it was Keira who would remind Lucy that she needs to take her sister but this time Keira was driving so it would take your sister at least 3 minutes to come back. You walked into the kitchen grabbing some bread opened the fridge and made yourself a sandwich knowing you'd have enough time. Five minutes later – you were happily chewing on your Fuet and Garrotxa cheese sandwich as Lucy hastily opened the door looking at you stressed

“Come on... we're going to be late” she took your bag pulling you along

“We have three hours till boarding... I haven't flown as much as you but even I know that's more than enough time” you rolled your eyes biting of your sandwich

“If you get Garrotxa all over my backseat Bitsy you'll pay for the cleaning” Keira threatened you slightly but smiled at you nonetheless

“As if... I'm a Bronze – we don't waste food” you smirked as you let her pull you into a hug

“True with your sister... but you always had very wary eating habits” she chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to your temple “Still can't believe you got hooked on Garrotxa”

“It's the spaniards fault... the made me try...” you huffed

“I didn't thought anyone can MAKE you do anything” the blonde laughed lightly as she slipped into the drivers seat while you got into the back

“Tweedledee and Tweedledumb dared me... not backing down from a dare” you spoke with a full mouth

“Why don't you take another bite, Bubs.. I understood so well what you said” Lucy said at your display of non existing manners

You were about to talk back as Keira quickly shot you down with a short harsh “eh”. So you swallowed your bite before speaking again

“Said tweedledee and tweedledumb dared me...” you said shrugging your shoulders

“And when they dare you to jump off a bridge would you do it???” Keira asked bewildered

“I mean... I would asked with or without a rope and if they say without I would want to see the bridge first....” you shrugged your shoulders again not really getting were the blonde was going with her questioning while Lucy barked out a laugh

“Dear Mary mother of god” Keira sighed “You're going to give me a heart attack one day Bitsy”

“You lived a happy life... isn't that what's important? Dad always told me that the steak I'm eating had a very happy life and that's why it's okay to eat steak...” you said nonchalantly smirking when Kei hit the breaks quickly and the car behind her honked aggressively

“Strike One Bitsy” the blonde warned you “You remember what happened at strike three?”

“Yes” you mumbled out remembering when you pushed Keira so far that she actually grounded you

“Good... since I can't use that anymore I'll warn you.. three strikes and I'll make sure Leah is going all Capitan on your ass...” Keira smirked

“I'm not part of the squad... she isn't my Capitan... she's yours” you threw back

“Oh we all know that's not true... you are very much a part of the team and we all know if Leah wants to you run laps until your feet bleed” the blonde smirked “So don't push it”

“Ugh” you just huffed and sank back into the seat

“What a good girl” Keira praised you teasingly as she smirked knowing she won the argument

20 Minutes later the three of you were pulling into the big Airport of Barcelona and Keira parked her car in the parking lot.

“Bubs... no running off... no lurking about and no going into shops without one of us informed” Lucy said firmly

“I'm 16” you whined

“Yeah... you really sound so grown up” your sister rolled her eyes as she got out of the car getting hers and your bag out of the trunk

Keira held her hand out for you and you burgundy take it as the blonde smiled at you.

“It's for your safety and our nerves..” Keira smiled as she held your hand tightly walking inside the airport.

Immediately there where phones turned towards you three and you started to feel uncomfortable what Kei of course immediately noticed since you grabbed her hand a little tighter

“Relax...” the blonde said lowly as Lucy did her best to cover you from the fans who obviously took the chance to take photos and videos of their idols “Ignore it... We're here and if they want something from you they have to go through me and Lucy first... breath Bitsy”

You tried your best to just listen to Keiras soothing voice but it was oh so hard since the fans got a bit... excited to see Lucy and Keira coming into the airport together and since you weren't very much known outside of the inside football world they wondered who you were. Your sister always tried her best to keep you away from prying eyes since she knew how hateful social media could be and how you were still working through your issues. She never would forbid you to use social media however you please but when it came to photos or videos (either from fans or the official photographers) she tried her best to keep you out of the spotlight. You once had a run in with a photographer at Lyon and it ended with her pulling rank with her name to have the picture removed from the internet. As for now she relented to pull your hoodie over your head as you kept your head down anyway trusting Kei to lead you and not let you run into things. When you all reached security you gasped in relief letting out a breath you didn't even noticed holding.

“You did good Bitsy... I'm very proud of you” Keira said keeping her voice low so no bystanders would hear her

“Thanks Kei... never gets less scaring when they flip their shit like this” you mumbled as you felt a hand on your shoulder squeezing lightly

“Good job Bubs... so proud of you for not freaking out” Lucy smiled warmly as you copied her movements to get through the security area

You haven't flown as much as Lucy or Keira so you seeked their guidance with how it works.

“Belt too Bubs” your sister said warmly as you were about to step forward – Keira already through the body scanner waiting for you and Lucy waiting behind you so you wouldn't get freaked out

“But... then I'll loose my pants” you whined

“You won't... but the bloody thing will scream like you murdered a pig if you try to get through it with a belt on” Lucy said calmly

“Speaking of experience?” you smiled

“In fact... yes...” your sister smiled “forgot I was wearing one”

You recutlanty took off your belt holding on to your pants as you stepped into the body scanner. The security guard waved you through a couple of seconds later and you grabbed onto your pants again as you hurried over to Keira who waited for you with open arms to pull you into a soothing hug. As if on cue the scanner behind you started to ring loudly and you quickly turned around as you saw your sister rolling her eyes at the machine. Two more security guards got over to her as she stepped out of the body scanner her arms spread her hands facing upwards.

“Don't worry Bitsy... Luce is used to it... it's always her” Keira chuckled as she saw your uneasy face

The female security guard patted your sister down while her two male co-workers stood nearby if something went south. Two minutes later your sister was waved off to go on and she came over to you and Keira

“Knew it... those bloody things hate me I swear” your sister grumbled

“Maybe they're fans and it's not a annoyed ringing but a machine wolf whistle” you mused shrugging your shoulders

“Sometimes I wonder what is going on in your head but then I decide I'm better off not knowing” Lucy looked at you bewildered

“You wouldn't be able to follow my geniusness anyway” you stick your tongue out at her

“You constantly get in trouble... nothing genius about that” Lucy shrugged your comment off as she lead the way to your gate

You were seated right in front of the gate on your own as Keira went to get something to drink for the three of you and Lucy was off doing - whatever as you noticed four girls whispering and looking over at you. Keira forbid you to interact with anyone and since you weren't in the mood for it anyway you just nodded and stuffed your Air Pods in texting your girlfriend that you made it successfully through security. Her reply was instant that she herself just got of the plane at Heathrow and she couldn't wait to see you again. You smiled at your phone as you felt someone sitting down next to you

“¿disculpe?” you heard since the music you were playing wasn't loud as you don't want to disturb other passengers but you acted like you didn't heard the girl.

“¿Disculpe?!” she tried again this time louder

Obviously now you didn't had a choice other than to react since people already were turning towards you. So you pulled out one Air Pod looking at her expectantly

“Huh?” you asked trying to give an “please just royally fuck off”-vibe

To your annoyance the girl started to talk to you in spanish obviously not understanding that you just want to have some peace. You made out the words “Keira” and “Lucia” (it still sounded so wrong in your ears that you couldn't stop the eye roll even if you would genuinely tried) and “Barca” and “fan”. You didn't even tried to interact with the girl as you just put your earplug in again starting your Spotify going back to text Georgia. But the girl just didn't give up as she touched your shoulder quite firm and you yelped and sprung up. Thankfully Keira chose this moment to come back immediately putting herself between you and the girl. You were now placed behind the blonde who spotted her famous angry game face talking animatedly with the girl – most likely a very VERY firm scolding. You knew Keiras scolding tells having been on the receiving end quite a few times. Now you also felt an arm around your shoulders making you jump again just to feel the side hug tighten and you felt the familiar calm presents of your sister

“Time to board Bubs” Lucy mumbled after she carefully pulled your earplug out.

“Please tell me I don't have to sit anywhere near her” you said a little pained nodding towards the girl who went back to her friends

“No... we're flying business … she doesn't look like business” Keira said reassuring pushing a water bottle into your hand “I want you to drink at least half of it until take off Bitsy”

“Why?? That will make me need to pee and I'm not going to the toilet at five million feet in the air” you exclaimed upset

“Because you're not used to flying and staying hydrated is important otherwise you'll get a killer headache later” Keira explained calmly knowing you just need an explanation and most of the times you're good with that

“Flight is only two hours, Bubs... you can sprint to the toilets in Heathrow” Lucy smiled as she pushed you down the bridge towards the plane

“We're flying Heathrow???” you stopped dead in your tracks looking with big eyes at your sister

“Of course... what did you think?” Lucy looked at you confused

“I thought were flying Stanstead” you said starting to smile

“Nope... Heathrow” your sister confirmed

“Perfect” you grinned discreetly pulling out your phone

“Huh?” Lucy looked confused at your sudden mood change “You were at Heathrow like a million times... it's not like they changed anything”

“Oh no... but I love the sight flying into London” you grinned while Keira noticed you were texting someone

So she decided to lean over to you as Lucy pulled her phone out herself to text Ona that they were about to board

“If I remember correctly G is flying into Heathrow as well” the blonde smirked knowingly

“Possible” you started to fidget

“Hm... tell her to wait first floor Sierra 5” Keira smirked at you leaning back again to not raise Lucys suspicions.

G and you will have enough of Lucy around that Kei was more than happy to give you a little uninterrupted minute – even if it was in an airport and there were probably some fans around.

“Thanks Kei” you mumbled gratefully

“No problem Bitsy... you both deserve to be happy” the blonde squeezed your hand lightly as she pushed you towards your seat.

“Can I have window??” you asked hopefully looking with puppy eyes at your sister

“Ugh... the things I give up for you” Lucy rolled her eyes for good measure but let you slide into the window seat.

Two hours later the plane touched down on english soil and you couldn't contain your excitement your knee bouncing up and down quickly. Lucy laid her hand soothingly on your knee trying to calm you down

“I know you're happy to be back home but PLEASE calm down... your making me nervous” your sister said her voice low reading the situation completely wrong

You didn't care about England – you cared about Heathrow airport. More specifically first floor Sierra 5 – whatever that means

“Sorry” you mumbled biting down on your lip preventing you from grinning

The second the seatbelt sign was turned off you leaped out of your seat to just get pulled back down by your sister

“Wait” Lucy sighed out annoyed fixing you with a glare while Keira chuckled in the row behind you

“Calm Bitsy... won't be long” Keira scratched the back of your neck from her spot behind your seat

You whined impatiently starting to bounce your knee again until you remembered something

“I need the bathroom” you whined setting up your story already

“Gosh Bubs... really now???” Lucy rolled her eyes

“Kei made me drink a whole bottle of water!!!” you exclaimed

“I mean.. I did” the blonde shrugged her shoulders winking at you

“Just a few more minutes” your sister said

Finally she got out of her seat letting you get up too. You exited your row getting sandwiched between Lucy and Keira as you got out of the plane.

“Okay... off you go... we meet at exit B in 20 minutes.. we need to wait for our baggage” Lucy waved you off as you started do speed walk towards the baggage claim belts

“God... finally...” you mumbled

“Bubs!!” Lucy held you back for a moment “Where do we meet?”

“Exit B... 20 minutes” you repeated and shuffled from one leg to the other for show

“Good... off you run” she let go of your wrist and you continued your speed walking

You found section “Sierra” which was just section S on the first floor quickly and after some searching (and walking into the wrong direction first) you were standing in front of the sign that spotted a big 5 on it. You turned into every direction if you could see your girlfriend somewhere but no such luck.

Suddenly you got grabbed from behind getting pulled into a kind of secret door which led to a secret hallway obviously used from the staff to keep the airport running without the travelling people noticing. Before your brain could catch up and you started to scream you felt a pair of lips on yours. It took you a few seconds to register what was happening but than you kissed back with just as much hunger. When air became a problem you gently pushed against Gs chest getting her to back up a little bit

“Fuck I missed you” you panted out

“Missed you too” Georgia practically purred and laid her forehead against yours as she pecked your lips again

“Have about 13 more minutes and you need to leave before us so Lucy won't flip her shit” you mumbled but pulled your girlfriend down to meet your lips again by her neck

“Mhm” G sighed as she put her hands on your waist before letting them wander to your ass squeezing lightly

You moaned quietly into the kiss pulling yourself up by her shoulder jumping up slightly before locking your legs around Gs waist as she supported your weight easily backing you into the wall.

You separated panting hard and locking your eyes

“We need to stop... right now” you breathing laboured

“Sorry... sorry” your girlfriend apologized immediately her breathing just as flat

“NO.... don't be sorry... but if we don't stop right now we won't stop for a long time... and I plan to have you all to myself in a more fitting environment” you mumbled against her lips leaning into kiss her again

“Think Lucy will let us off easy?” your girlfriend asked between kisses

“Nope” you snorted pulling her closer again as your alarm went off

“Need to go... we're exit B... So get out any other way and be at the hotel before us... I can buy you about 15 minutes” you said as G gently put you on your feet again kissing you passionately one last time before leaving.

“Where is she??” Lucy said looking stressed as she glanced left and right

“She'll come... calm down Luce – she knows her way around Heathrow” Keira said calmly

“Sorry... got held up” you came to a scattered halt next to your sister “I found that shop and...” you rambled on as your sister narrowed her eyes at you

“Come on Lucy” you grabbed her arm pulling her back inside the airport as your girlfriend left said building two door downs, wearing a “London” cap and a pair of sunglasses as a disguise, locking eyes for a second she gave you a smirk as she waved at Keira quickly who of course caught on immediately

“What are you doing? Our car is waiting” your sister stumbled slightly behind you

“Good... it can wait a minute longer... I want to show you” you smiled happily as you pulled her further along

You picked out a small souvenir shop in the distance pulling your sister towards it showing her a “I Love London” shirt smiling brightly

“Seriously?” Lucy looked at you bewildered

“It's cool” you said pressing

“No.... and I'm here for work... come on Bubs” your sister said annoyed pulling you back and outside to shove you into the car waiting for the two Bronzes since Keira already was sitting inside smiling

You exit the Multivan that picked Keira, Lucy and yourself up from the Airport huffing a little bit as the cold english wind grazed around your face and you pulled your hat deeper into your face. Your sister was already five steps ahead basically running up the stairs to the Hotel entrance. Keira got out of the car after you chuckling

“Not used to the english weather anymore, Bitsy?”

“I understand now why Luce chose Barcelona... it's fucking freezing... why aren't you cold?” you asked her as she just smiled at her

“It's a bit chilly I must admit...” Keira started as you interrupted her

“You sound like fucking royalty... it's a bit chilly” you rolled your eyes imitating her

“Careful there wee one...” she warned you but smiled noneless

“What's her mission?” you asked as you watch your sister standing in front of the entrance looking like she's mentally preparing for a World Cup final

“Oh she's probably looking for G... you remember... the “talk”...” Keira grinned watching as all colour leaves your face and you frantically pull out your phone shooting your girlfriend a one word text “HIDE”

“Lucy!!” you shouted sprinting after her as you watched in slow motion how your sister entered the Hotel lobby

“STANWAY!!!” you could hear her yell once inside while you sprinted up the stairs stumbled over the last step nearly fell but catched yourself just in time to not face plant either into the glass door or the concrete

“Lucy... please... don't...” you panicky started as you entered the lobby to just find your sister looking around confused

“Where is she?” Lucy asked into the round of Lionesses who just looked at her with pure confusion on their faces

“Welcome to camp Bronze... who exactly are you looking for?” Millie said bewildered

“Yeah hi” Lucy answered quickly still looking around “I'm looking for Stanway”

“She was here just a second ago” Ella said starting to look around too

You also scanned the Lobby as you received a text from Georgia which just contained a picture of the group and you standing a little to the side. Your head snapped up and you tried to figured out from which direction the picture was send. As you finally spotted some blonde hair hiding behind one of the large bushy plants just a few feet away from the group you had to hold back the laugh that threatened to escape your lips.

“Where is she??” Lucy now fixed her eyes on you

“Don't see her” you shrugged her shoulders but your eyes quickly glanced to the stairway and you hoped your sister would take the bait

God you really knew her. Of course Lucy picked up your rapid eye movement and went for it straight on as she turned towards the staircase and you could see her brain working before quickly running towards the door.

“Toons... get me the elevator... go” you shoved your best friend “I've got about 90 seconds to get my girlfriend out of here”

You saw Lucy stomping threw the door and quickly signalled to G to get to the elevators. All while most of the Lionesses started to chuckle.

“You little...” you heard your sister yell through the lobby just as the elevator doors were closing

“Sorry...” you smiled innocently trying to hug your sister “But I don't want you to kill her – you wouldn't survive in jail with your knee”

“You're lucky I'm obligated to love you” Lucy mumbled pulling you into a hug “But I will get her at some point”

“But not right now” you mumbled against your sisters shoulder

“Lucy!!” you heard the only voice that make your blood boil

“Hey LJ” your sister pulled her into a side hug while still holding onto you and you growled lowly but before you could snap at the intruder

“Alright Lionesses!!!!” you suddenly heard Leah Williamson speaking up “Welcome to Camp... It's nice to see you all again... we're doing Rooms now then you have time to change and shower and then meeting in an hour!”

“Aye Skipper” the group replied

“Okay... Walsh and Stanway” Leah called out holding up two room cards which Keira picked out of her hand

“I'll tell her when I find G” the blonde grinned winking at Leah who just grinned back

“Bronze and Russo” Leah called out

“YES!!” Alessia and you high-fived

“Not you y/n... Lucy Bronze... I'm not THAT stupid!” the blonde Capitan interrupted you

“Man...” you whined as you saw Lucy got the two room cards

“Earps and Toone” Leah said ignoring you

“What have I done???” Mary asked confused and her tone had a whine

“Come on Mearps... that will be so much fun” Tooney grinned as she tried to get the cards but Leah held them out to Mary

This went one for a couple of minutes until there were only a few people left – and at this point you actually would choose Lotte. You never were particular close to Lotte but she was nice enough too you. Sadly you just weren't that lucky

“And that leaves... Bronze and James” Leah summed the room assignments up holding out the last two room cards

“WHAT??” you asked her angrily

“You... and LJ... one room.. not that hard, poppy” the blonde Capitan said knowing you wouldn't be happy

“HELL to the NO... I'm NOT sharing a room with... HER” you growled pointing towards the young player

“You will... you will suck it up and act as grown up as I know you are” Leah said lowly not getting your anger get to her

“When hell freezes over I'll share with... I wish I could say what I want but I already have four sets of 15 on my hands... not adding a fifth one” you growled out between gritted teeth

“Calm down... be open and you'll may be surprised and maybe you discover that you and LJ are not that different” the blonde spoke lowly

“You have no idea what you're talking about, Williamson” you sneered and Leah just considered if she really made the right call on the matter since you never called her by her last name

“If you really want we can swap okay...” Leah offered holding her hands up in surrender

“No... no... don't want to mess up the team spirit” you growled as you turned around leaving the lobby

“Y/n!!!! You're NOT leaving the hotel on your own” Leah yelled after you for you just to flip her off and keep walking

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #woso image #lucy bronze #lionesses x reader

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