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#harry never realizes he got sent back in time
bythepen98 · 7 months
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Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au
(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)
Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).
He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.
His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.
Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).
Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.
P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.
P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.
P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.
Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 2 months
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Hopelessly Devoted to You
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Mentions of an abusive marriage, domestic violence and abuse, crying.
This one is going to be angsty, with two lovesick morons who are too scared to admit their feelings for each other. There are going to be mentions of abuse, so read at your own risk.
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Dropping Ellie to school, she thinks this is her happy place. With her kid, talking about how she finds elephants interesting, how she loves eggos, and the girl who sits next to her bites her nails all the time.
She's smiling on the car seat all the way to the school, contrary to how she is at home.
She tries her best to shield her away from her god-awful marriage, but sometimes, it's too damn difficult.
Like last night, when as soon as Elliot was home, she had sent her to her room, which she had gotten soundproofed with the money she had saved for months. She had told her to lock the door tightly, because Daddy had come home.
As soon as he entered, she realized he was drunk.
That was just how he came home nowadays, drunk off his ass, not even understanding his surroundings. She wondered how he even managed to make his way back home.
He stumbled from the doorway, having struggled with his keys for over 5 minutes. She was already sweating by now, hands clammy and her heartbeat rising.
"The fuck, fucking-" he cursed as soon as he was in, throwing his shoes and socks away. He threw his bag away too, and stumbled till he reached the dining table, glaring up at Y/n.
She didn't say anything to him. Knowing he would get angry if she did.
"Give me water" he ordered, and she got one glass, holding it under the tap, filling it up with water. She turned it off, turning around, and giving it to him.
He drank it in one go, some of it falling on his shirt. Messily wiping his mouth, he threw the glass away, and she was startled.
"Where's my food?"
She went back into the kitchen, taking the plate she had already taken out for him, and placing it in front of him.
"What the fuck? How many times do I have to tell you, I don't like meatballs? Are you that fucking dumb that you can't understand?"
That's when he threw the plate away, and a couple utensils too, which were lying on the dining table.
She knew Ellie would've heard it, and she quickly took a few steps back, preparing herself to turn around and run away, in case he pranced at her.
And that, he did. Thankfully, she knew just how to run from him, so he wouldn't catch up to her, and locked herself in the room with Ellie.
He was banging at the door, screaming curses at her. Calling her everything she had hoped she would never have to hear again.
With Ellie crying in her mum's arms, with continuous banging on the door, that threatened to break it, she knew she wanted it to end.
She knew she wanted a divorce.
.       .       .
"I'll pay for the lawyer if you want. Money is no issue for me, you know that, Y/n" he said, genuinely wanting to help her out of this marriage. He wants the best for her, for her to be happy again. Whenever he looks at her, his heart beats faster.
He still doesn't understand why she still wears the wedding ring he gave her. She's moved on from him, but still carries pieces of him with her. Given, most of them are tears and hurt marks, and looking at them makes his heart cry. And the purple bruise on her neck makes him want to kill Elliot. Piece by piece. Break him, beat him up, to make up for all the times he did the same to Y/n.
Her hand is just inches away from his, resting softly on the armrest. His finger twitches, and he wants her to hold his hand, to tell her that she will be alright. But she won't.
And he can't.
She lifted her gaze, looking into his kind eyes. He was good...and sometimes, it felt as if he was too good to be real.
"Oh" she replied. It was the only way out for her, because getting money from her parents was a lost cause. Her friends couldn't help her too, because she was too deep in this shit to be pulled out easily.
"Think about it. Sleep over it too, maybe? You can tell me tomorrow, or the day after it. I'll be waiting" he says, and "for you, right here" remain lodged in his throat.
"Thank-thank you, Mr. Styles, I-You're so kind to me, to Ellie-" her voice breaks, and he knows she will cry if he doesn't stop her. "Everything you've done-"
"It's my job, Y/n. It's what I do for everyone. Some need less help, and some need more. It's no big deal" he reassures her, and she nods.
"But still, thank you so, so much. I'll-I'll forever be grateful to you for this" she smiles, and he smiles back. His dimples are on show, on soft, squishy cheeks, that she wants to caress, to hold, to place a soft kiss on.
"So, you can-you can call me when you've thought over it, and I'll get the paperwork started." he straightens his suit, and she clears her throat. "Yeah-yeah, I'll call you, Mr. Styles"
"You can call me Harry. Here's my card"
She smiles, taking the business card from him, and keeping it in the back of her phone cover. In case Elliot checks her bag, he's too dumb to look in her phone cover.
He smiles at her, despite knowing why she did it, and it breaks his heart even more.
. . .
Harry was a good person. She had met him at a summer camp she had taken Ellie to, where he had bought his niece, Evie. They were 4, and Ellie got super excited when she found out that their names began with "E". As soon as they met, they hit it off, holding each other's hand, and running away from Harry and Y/n.
"I'm sorry-she-she gets super excited sometimes, she doesn't listen" Y/n apologized, and that was the first time he looked at her. Into her pretty, pretty eyes, that made him seem dull.
"Oh-no, don't apologize, it's all right. She doesn't have kids of her age near her parents' home, so I took her here so she could have some fun"
"So-she's not your kid?" she asked, her hands fidgeting in front of her.
"No-she's my niece. My sister's daughter. I'm Harry" he said, offering her hand to her for a handshake.
She took it, smiling. 
“I’m Y/n” 
He seemed nice, bringing her niece for a weekend long camp. He seemed like the cool and care free uncle every kid wanted, who would let them do anything. As she looked into his eyes, an emerald shade with the brightest shine, she had no idea this stranger would be a lifesaver for her one day.
“So, you from around here?” he asked, taking his hand back. The handshake had lasted for much longer than they both intended, and to his surprise, his hand was all wet when he pulled back.
Y/n lowered her head, mentally cursing herself for being so weird.
“I’m sorry, Harry-I-sometimes get super nervous around new people, and my hands-they get all sweaty. I’m sorry”
“No, no, it’s alright. No need to apologize.” he wiped his hand on his beige pants, and she still felt bad for the faint spot that developed on which looked like custom tailored pants. 
She turned, getting hold of her purse, and opening the chain. She fished out a fresh handkerchief, which she had kept for Ellie, because she always eats messily, getting crumbs all over her face and clothes. But Y/n adores it, and she smiles everytime she cutely says, “Mumma, hanky” with a bright smile, so proud of herself for that.
“Here-take this,” she offered him her napkin, a white one with pink flowers laced on it.
He will to keep it forever, he thinks.
And that he did, too. The same handkerchief, unused by him because he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would make the softness, and the smell of her perfume laced in it, go away. It sits in his cupboard, in one of the two lockers that he has. 
“Thank you” he takes it, stuffing it in his pocket.
They go for a walk after that, looking at all the camp-activities that were in the brochure. The swings, the activities, the areas allocated for different sports, with so many children running around with sports equipment.
“I think she really needed it, you know. She worked hard throughout the year, doing all her assignments and homework on time. She also did her science project all by herself, without even any help from me and Elliot. Can you believe that?”
She looked so, so pretty, talking proudly about her daughter.
“And Elliot is-?”
“My husband, yeah”
Harry thinks she would be proud, or happy, at least, while telling him that she has a husband. But she doesn’t, and she hopes he doesn’t notice the small frown that creeps up her face, her smile fading with just the mention of his name.
Unfortunately, he does.
.         .        .
Throughout the day, they spend time together. Sitting on the swings, talking bout their pasts and smiling and giggling, like a couple of teenagers in love. But, they’re far from that.
Y/n thinks she hasn’t been so happy in a while. She hasn’t laughed this much in a while too, nor had a normal conversation with an adult.
So, when Ellie told her there was going to be a week long summer camp, she made sure she was the one to go with he. She just wanted to step out of the house, and meet some new people, have normal conversations, unlike the screaming and arguing she endured almost everyday.
And Harry…well, he’s Harry. His heart skips a beat every time she smiles, so carefree and beautiful. The way her face glows in the sun, and the tiny crinkles that form when she squints them to see him in the sunlight. Her hair, that flows freely in the warm air, and the biggest smile on her face as she tries to tie them up, but they just keep slipping out of her grasp.
He can't help but be captivated by her presence, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity he can't quite explain. Her smile seems to light up the entire landscape, and he finds himself enchanted by the way she effortlessly radiates joy. Even though, she had been quite opposite of that for a while. He feels a warmth spread through him whenever she looks his way, a feeling he can't quite put into words but cherishes nonetheless. 
Yeah, he’s in love with her.
(next part)
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i might consider a part 2, because this was sitting in my drafts and i know this isn't soo good!
taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld  @chesthairrry  @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs  @hisparentsgallerryy  @storyschanging  @selluequestrian  @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown
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princessconsuela120 · 3 months
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☾ SUNNY DAYS ☾
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—☾
Request: Hey, could you write a remus x reader, childhood bestfriend? Maybe it was unrequited at first (by remus) then they got into a fight and he slowly started realizing?
Warnings: cursing, fighting, angst
Author’s note: I loved this request so much. I’m sorry to everyone who sent in requests, I’ve been really only in the mood to write for Harry Potter atm so it’s taking me a while to find inspo for the others. Enjoy guys!
—☾
FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, Remus John Lupin had been your one saving vice. Growing up, your mothers both met each other at a pilates class nonetheless, quickly becoming college best friends. Coincidentally, they both met their future husbands at the train station in London, when they were traveling to work. It was a surprise to both of them when they realized they were pregnant with you and Remus at the same time, let alone that the two of you would be wizards.
You both boarding the train to Hogwarts together, met the marauders together, and even managed to share majority of your schedules. But life didn’t get easier for you after going to Hogwarts. Student were mean, and people stuck their chins out at people born from muggle parents. For Remus it was easier to look the other way, considering he had enough to deal with as is. But for you it was harder.
Not only did you get teased for your blood status, but you soon realized that your friendship with Remus was growing to be more. You couldn’t love him like that, he was your best friend. Yet you did. He owned all your heart in the palm of his hand, and worst of all he didn’t even know.
“The more you stare at him, the more obvious it is that you're totally whipped.” Marlene teased, raising an eyebrow at you as she took the horklump juice from your hand, not wanting you to cause an explosion due to your daydreams.
“I’m not staring. I was just, seeing if I was doing it right.” You defended yourself, shaking yourself out of your daydream, your lips curling to a smile when you caught sight of Remus laughing at something James had said.
“Right, cause you meant to almost pour the whole bottle into the cauldron.” She gestured for you to look down, noticing the many ingredients you had almost incorrectly added, causing you to groan as you shook yourself back to her.
“Sorry I just, sorry.” You mumbled in response, looking down with a sigh.
“Y/n, come on.” She sighed, handing you a ladle to mix the potion. “This is torture seeing you like this.” She said, smiling sympathetically as you nodded.
“I know, I know. I just, I can’t do anything about it Marls. He’s my best friend, he could never feel that way about me.” You explained, shaking your head as you moved back to continue adding to your potion.
“Sunny, Marlene.” Remus greeted, your heart fluttering at the nickname. Ever since he found out you were in Hufflepuff, he gave you the nickname if sunny. Not just for your yellow clothes, but for the sunshine you give off. “May I steal this one real quick?” He turned to Marlene, making her nod.
“She’s all yours.”
“What’s up?” You asked, following him over to where you needed to get more ingredients.
“Well, I know the Yule ball is coming up…” he said, earning a nod from you.
“It is? Do you need help asking someone?” You suggested, digging through the budget for some billywig stings.
“Actually, I was going to ask you.” You turned over to look at him so quickly, you almost spilled the whole jar.
“Really?”
“I know, I know, it’s not romantic. But, well, James is bringing Lily, and Sirius can’t decide between the three girls he’s taking. Even Peter is bringing someone. I don’t want to be alone.” He explained, making your heart drop slightly.
“So you want to take me, so you won’t be alone?”
“Exactly. Do you accept?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you excitedly, making you nod.
“Of course I’ll go with you Remus.” You accepted, making Remus smile as you both began walking back to your tables. Marlene smirked at you, to which you waved her off, not feeling like getting into detail over the fact that you had just been ultimately friendzoned.
—☾
YOU HAD BEEN CASUALLY WALKING AROUND HOGWARTS, your books tightly held in your hands as you made your way to care for magical creatures. As your walk continued, you ran into none other than Gideon Prewitt, a wide smile in his face as he came up to you.
“Y/n, hey.” He greeted kindly, making you smile back at him.
“Gideon, hi how are you?” You asked, a slight flirtatious smirk adorning his face.
“I’m lovely, how are you?”
“Good, good. What can I do for you?” You asked. You seemed to have a confident walk to him, which made it nice to be around.
“Well, I understand the Yule ball is coming up.” He suggested, making you squeal slightly with excitement.
“Yes, I can’t wait. I just got my dress yesterday.” You cheered excitedly, making Gideon nod happily.
“Perfect. Just let me know what color, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Why do you need to know the color?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he chuckled nervously.
“I guess I should have started with this, Y/n L/n, you are the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. I would be honored if you would attend the Yule ball with me.” He said, handing you a red rose he had been hiding behind his back.
You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t give you butterflies. You couldn’t help but blush at the compliment.
“Oh, Gideon that’s really sweet…”
“She’s going with me.” Remus growled lowly, interrupting you before you could finish, making you press your lips together nervously.
“Oh, Remus, I’m sorry dude. I thought you guys were just friends.” Gideon said, raising his hands defensively.
“We are, we’re going as friends.” Remus grumbled, making Gideon chuckle awkwardly.
“Oh, um. Okay. Well, Y/n, if you want to go with someone for real, my offer still stands.” He said with a wink, before turning and leaving towards the Gryffindor common room. Remus scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes as he began walking beside you.
“What’s with that guy huh?” He hissed, making you shrug.
“I don’t know, it was kinda sweet. He got me this rose and all.” You smelt the rose, a slight blush coming on your cheeks as you did.
“Are you seriously considering going with him? You already agreed to go with me.”
“Yeah as friends Remus. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I want to have a romantic night with someone who wants to be there with me.” You explained, causing Remus to stop in his tracks, grabbing your shoulders so you’d look at him.
“I wanna be there with you.” He said, a slight frown on his face as he did.
“You know what I mean, Remus. Like, I don’t know, someone who likes me that way.”
“What, is he everything you ever wanted, y/n?” He asked bitterly, making your face twitch with anger. You pointed a finger at him, your face contorting with hurt.
“Remus, you’re being mean. Stop.” You spoke angrily, your voice breaking as you brows furrowed with hurt.
“This is bull shit.” He shouted, throwing his arms to his sides angrily.
“Remus!” You yelled, taken aback by his temper.
“No! You agreed to go with me, now, what, you change you’re mind cause Prewit gave you a rose?”
“Remus, I am so sick and tired of chasing after you! I’m not going with you for pity!” You shouted, now angry with the boy, catching him off guard.
“It’s not pity, it’s a school dance y/n!” He yelled in response, angry by your outburst.
“I don’t care! I have loved you, all my life.” You shouted, quieting down slightly, not expecting to have admired that, but not caring at the same time.
“What?”
“Remus, I’m so tired, okay? I can’t just keep waiting here for you, in the hopes that maybe one day you’ll like me back.” You pinched your forehead with frustration, ignoring the longing look Remus gave you.
“You like me?” He asked, making you scoff.
“Oh come on, it’s obvious is it not? Remus, I will always love, just, I can’t keep waiting for you. It breaks my heart.”
Before he could answer, you quickly ran forward, hoping to make it to class in enough time to take the spot next to Sirius so Remus couldn’t sit next to you today. Remus was left in shock. It may have been the first time since Remus started Hogwarts that he missed a class before a full moon.
—☾
“OH QUIT MOPPING MOONY.” Sirius teased, shoving Remus teasingly as the werewolf rolled his eyes. They were sitting at their table for the Yule ball which consisted of James Sirius, Sirius’ date of the hour, and Lily. Marlene and Dorcas had agreed to accompany you at your table, to not further strain the awkwardness of the situation. You did decide to go with Gideon, after the angry response you got from Remus, it was clear to you that you should go with who you wanted.
“Don’t tell me what to quit, padfoot. Does Amanda know she’s your fifth date tonight or did you want to let her find out on her own?” Remus hissed, raising an eyebrow at sirius, who’s eyes widened when his date, Amanda, slapped him over the head.
“You prick!” She shouted, storming away from the table, sirius chuckling angry as Remus smirked.
“Thanks for that.” He grumbled, choosing to put his anger aside when seeing the sad look on Remus’ face.
“I’ve ruined the one and only good thing in my life.” Remus mummbled, hiding his face in his hands. Sirius rolled his eyes, nudging him.
“Sitting right here Moony.” Sirius snarked, earning a shove back.
“Shut up.”
“Oh come on. It’s y/n, I mean, it’s your sunny! She can’t stay mad at you.” Sirius explained, causing Remus to shake his head.
“She loves me. I mean she really, loves me.” He said in disbelief, shaking his head as he sighed.
“And you don’t love her back?” James asked, his expression soft as he looked at Remus with concern.
“I mean, I don’t, I can’t right? I mean she’s my best friend. Anyone but her.” He explained, the other marauders sharing a smirk before turning back to Remus.
“I don’t know moons, love works in mysterious ways.” Sirius teased, making Remus roll his eyes again.
“Posh, what do you know about love.”
“Well, I know that you and y/n are meant for each other. Wether it be friends, or true love.” Sirius said, making Remus shrug.
“Yeah, whatever.” He mumbled, choosing to ignore Sirius’ comment and resting his chin against his palm angrily. He looks up to see you walking into the room, hand and hand with Gideon. A wide smile adorned your face as you smiled around at the decor around the room, making Remus smile.
“Wow.” Remus muttered, his eyes trained on you which caught the boy’s attention.
“She's so pretty.” Lily said, waving for you to come and sit over with them as she got up to greet you.
“Pretty? Are you kidding? She’s gorgeous.” He whispered to himself, causing Sirius and James to share a look.
“Someone’s gawking.” James teased. Remus gestured to where you stood, you face seemed to sparkle under the lights as you spoke to Lily.
“How can you not. I mean, wow. I’ve never seen sunny in red before.” He couldn’t help the way his heart picked up speed when you waved over to him.
“I guess red suits her in more ways than one.” Sirius mumbled, referring to the fact that Remus, the gryffindor boy, truly did belong with you. Remus didn’t hear him, having been making his way over to you the second he saw you wave.
“Sunny, hey.” He greeted, causing you to smile widely as you hugged him.
“Remus, hey.” You said in response. The second you pulled away you noticed a thick awkwardness that wafted between you two.
“You uh, you look great.” Remus complimented, making you smile, bowing slightly before turning to Gideon.
“Thanks. I’ll be right back Gideon, I’m gonna grab us some punch.” You explained, absentmindedly kissing Gideon on the cheek as you ran from the awkwardness. Remus would be lying if he said his heart didn’t ache at the sight.
“So what, you two are dating now?” Remus asked, watching you walk away as Gideon shrugged.
“I don’t know. I might go for it, I think she likes me.” He explained. Remus snorted, rolling his eyes. “What, you don’t think so?”
“No just, well, sunny could do a lot better than you.”
He wasn’t sure why he said it. Remus never had a problem with Gideon before, in fact he considered him a good friend. He had no idea why the thought of him with you made him so mad. Well he did, but remus decided to stay cluelessly angry with clenched fists instead of admit that.
“What, like you?”
“No, just, better.” Remus responded with a shrug, causing Gideon to sigh.
“Look, Remus, if you like her I can back down. You’ve had her longer than I have I wouldn’t step in the way of that?”
“Had her?” Remus asked, now looking at Gideon with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah well, I guess you’ve had claim on her for longer.”
“Claim? She’s not just something you can claim Prewitt, she’s a person!” He shouted.
“Calm down Remus, I just meant…” Gideon tried, holding his hand up with defense before Remus interrupted him.
“No!” He shouted, shoving Gideon back angrily. “She deserves better than you. She’s a human being, not just someone you can set your claim on like, like some kind of animal.” He shook his head, feeling anger consume him. It was strange, he had never felt this incredibly angry before unless a full moon was near, which hadn’t happened since last week, so that couldn’t be it. There was no one you could make him feel as powerfully as a full moon could, right?
“Oh come on now, we all know how it goes around here, right? You’d know better than anyone, what with Sirius being your friend and all.”
Remus felt as though Gideon had burned those words into his brain.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sure you’ve all gone back and forth choosing who would get to have her.”
It didn’t take much more from Remus before he swung a punch right at Gideon, knocking him to the ground. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but Remus just started punching, and he didn’t stop. He choose to ignore Gideon’s pleas for him to stop, his anger taking over.
“Remus stop! Stop it now! Merlin’s beard, what is wrong with you guys!?” You shouted, quickly pulling Remus back. He wipped him nose, a punch Gideon had landed now causing it to gush blood as he grunted. Gideon was only able to land a few punched anyway, and Remus stood back trying to catch his breath.
“Nothing.” Remus grumbled, clenching his fists. He fought the urge to say something, before huffing as he walked outside the building.
“What the hell was that?” You asked, watching as Remus pulled a cigarette out of his back pocket, something he only did when he was angry.
“Nothing.” He hissed. You grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, putting it out which only made him angrier.
“Nothing??…nothing!?! Remus Lupin, explain yourself. Now!” You shouted. He huffed again, gesturing out at Gideon who was being checked out by Madam Ponfrey in the hall.
“Nothing happened alright? He pissed me off, so I hit him.”
“You can’t just lash out on people Remus. It’s, it’s not healthy for you.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Merlin, you need to start taking care of yourself, and stop getting into these fights over, stupid things.” You explained. He didn’t say anything in response, just stared at you as you dug through your pocket for the disinfectant you always kept with you, for him.
“Do you really like him?” He mumbled, causing you to look up at him, your heart rate increasing.
“What?” Your voice cracked as you spoke.
“Gideon, do you like him?”
“I don’t see why that matters.” You replied shortly, causing him to sigh as he stared deeply into your eyes.
“Just tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know Remus, he makes me feel special. Like I’m important, like I matter.” You explained, meeting his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.
“And I don’t make you feel those things?”
“You’re the one that told me we were just friends, okay? You. I-I can’t keep liking you, and getting my heart broken.”
“No, no no no.” He muttered, shaking his head as you spoke.
“What do you mean no?” You hissed, now angry that he felt he had the right to keep pulling at your heart.
“I-i don’t know y/n. Something about seeing you tonight, with him…I don’t know I just felt, angry.” He explained, shaking his head at the ground as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Because I was with Gideon?”
“Because you weren’t with me.” His voice broke as he spoke, though he spoke with such certainty you almost melted on the spot.
“But you…”
“I know what I said.” He stepped closer. “And I felt it, I did. I thought, anyone but you. I couldn’t love you , anyone but you. And then I saw you tonight, and I felt it.”
“You felt what?”
He smiled, stepping closer again, your faces as close as they could be before touching.
“Love. And not the kind that means I love you because your my friend, the kind that means I want to be with you forever. The kind that means in love.” He explained. He caressed your cheek with his hand, smiling as you looked at him with uncertainty.
“Remus..”
He didn’t let you finish, getting the reassurance he needed as soon as he heard his name, pulling you into a kiss. It was gentle, yet the most passionate kiss you’d ever experienced. You pulled away, smiling at him as he smiled back.
“Everything you’ve ever wanted?” He asked, making you chuckle, resting your forehead against his as you kissed him again quickly.
“You have no idea.”
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qtssvnwoo · 1 year
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Hurt-Ron Weasley
Description: Your relationship with Ron was seemingly going pretty well. You both were happy and all you needed was each other. But, Ron slowly grew more and more distant, without a reason why. And as more fights came, you slowly started to lose it.
A/N: I was actually so excited to get back to writing, so I have a new Ron fic for my angst loving babes.
Word count: 1.6K
Warnings: Mild language, not too excessive, might be structured weirdly cause i’m tired 
Part Two
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—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was always there before. At the start of your relationship, Ron would be glued to your hip like a baby on a mothers side. He would be with you constantly, talking to you constantly etc etc. You felt like you were on cloud nine when you were with him, which was all the time. Ron never failed to make you smile, you were always laughing and giggling with him, like a little girl. You two were completely and utterly in love. But something changed.
Around the time of the yule ball, tensions got high between Ron and Harry. Ron accused Harry of butting his name in the goblet behind his back, while Harry claimed he did no such thing. You had no idea how such a silly thing could turn into tearing a trio in half, but it had. You had tried to be there for Ron, showing him love and kindness even if he was short and rude to you, you still held your kindness high up, hoping that Ron would see how he was acting towards you and change, but he never saw his fault, and never did change.
It wasn’t until the first fight you had with Ron that made you realize the dreaded truth. That Ron was not going to change anytime soon. 
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a cold winter day, and you loved it. You were at peace with the snow falling at your side, hands wrapped up in gloves and necked neatly covered in the red and gold scarf given to you by Ron. You listened as people laughed far off in the distance, but that did not bother you. You were content with sitting in the snow, watching the landscape and taking in your surroundings. 
Your harmony was unfortunately interrupted by a very angry Ronald Weasley stomping your way. You immediately knew that it was him when you heard the rough crunching of snow and whispers of incoherent curses coming from his mouth. You turned your head and were met with a bright red, and choleric, Weasley boy. 
Sighing to yourself, you turned your body around to face the grumpy ginger, and with a glare he stared at you back. 
“What's wrong Ron?” You purposely tried to add a milk and honey texture to your voice, to try and show him that you were trying to help him. Apparently, the message was not sent. Ron glared even harder at you, his frown growing deeper as he rolled his eyes at you and attempted to continue on his pity party journey. You stopped him once more by grabbing his arm, but he didn’t even let you get a word out before his top blew off and he was yelling at you. 
“Bloody Hell Y/N! Can’t you see I do NOT want to talk to you right now?” You were taken back by his sudden outburst, he never yelled at you like this, why now?
“Well Ron, I’m trying to help you. You look angry-”
“Yes I’m angry and you nagging me about why I'm angry isn’t helping.” 
“Nagging? Ron, I asked you one question.”
“A question I do not feel like answering.” 
You didn’t know what to say. You were astonished at the sudden cut-throat attitude of your once so sweet and pleasurable boyfriend. 
“God forbid I’m worried about you Ron, am I not allowed to worry about you?” Ron glared at you and took a step forward so you were face to face. You felt the heat of his anger burning off his cheeks and you knew the words about to come out of his mouth were not going to be pleasant ones.
“I don’t need someone worrying about me like I’m a little kid. Get off my back and leave me alone. Can you at least do that right?” 
You were frozen. Your words caught in your throat and choked you when you tried to talk. You felt a rush of several different emotions rush through you at once. Anger, sadness, confusion, all of them were racing through you. You looked at Ron’s eyes and searched for any sign of remorse, or hurt. Any sign that he possibly didn’t mean what he had said, but you found none. Nothing was behind his eyes except a blazing fire of anger.
You let him walk away. No words you could muster up would make him turn back and you knew that. You just stood there as you tried to comprehend what he would have meant. So many things ran through your mind as you felt your cheeks grow warm and your eyes start to weld up.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Ever since that day weeks ago, you hadn’t spoken to Ron. Just as he asked you. The yule ball was approaching and you didn’t know if you and Ron were going together or not. You told yourself that it was evident that he would ask you, or that you would just go together since you were his girlfriend, or, you at least thought it was evident. This was until you came across Ron asking a girl to go with him, to which he got rejected. You stood there puzzled, why hadn’t he asked you? You were his girlfriend. You listened as he complained to Harry about not being able to find a date, and this was your turning point.
You hurriedly stomped up to him and turned him around by a quick pull of the shoulder. He looked confused at first, his confusion was followed up by a swift and hard slap to the face. The slap echoed throughout the courtyard and people stopped to look at the origination of the sound, but you didn’t care.  You tried to stop yourself from crying as you stood there breathing heavily. 
“Bloody hell Y/N! What was that for?!”
“You, You Ronald Weasley are a complete ASSHOLE!” And with your harsh words you shoved him backwards, causing him to fall and stare up at you in wonder, wonder in what he could’ve possibly done to offend you.
“Mate, did you not ask her?” Was all Harry said before you turned yourself around and walked away? Tears stain your cheeks as you try to recollect your breathing.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The yule ball came a week later, and still, Ron could barely even give you a glance. You were, nonetheless, trying to enjoy your night, you wouldn’t let some boy ruin your night. But, throughout the night, you couldn’t help but catch yourself staring at him. He was never looking at you, nor did he try. Of course, this made you sad but a lot of things Ron had done recently made you sad. 
You caught your eyes drifting over to Ron once more, and this time, he was glaring at someone. You followed his gaze and your eyes landed on Hermione and Krum dancing together. You looked back between Ron and Hermione and Krum. You couldn’t believe it. He was jealous of Krum. Rage engulfed you and you felt yourself once again crying. Your sudden rage had caused you to squeeze your glass a little too tight. The sound of breaking glass caused Ron to look over at you, and a couple people as well followed his gaze. You stared Ron down, the pain from your heart outnumbered the pain in your hand. You felt blood rush down your arm, a result of the glass cutting deep into your hand. 
You kept looking at Ron, and he kept looking at you. He saw the blood falling and decided it was best if he got up to check on you, but as he got closer you shook your head, repeatedly saying no as you tried to push him away. He was confused about this, and still advanced further. Your series of no’s got louder and louder until you shouted at him. The shout was lost in the music, and you looked at Ron with hateful eyes.
“Y/N, you’re hurt. Please let me take you to Madam Pomfrey.” His voice sounded so genuine, and for a second you thought he truly did care for you. He reached out his arms to hold your bleeding hand, but, just as you were about to give your hand to him, you caught him taking a quick glance over his shoulder, in the direction of Hermione and Krum. 
“NO. FUCK you, Ronald Weasley. FUCK you. I HATE YOU.” You walked backward, the words you were speaking were foreign to you, you had never told him you hated him, and you felt incredibly bad for it, but at the moment, it felt like it needed to be said. He looked hurt as he slowly put his hands down at his sides and stared at you in disbelief. 
“I wish I never dated you, Ronald Weasley. I hate you.” 
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sat in your room, your hand still moderately bleeding through the cloth around it. You thought back on the words you had said to Ron. You knew you didn’t mean a word you said. But, seeing the way he stared at Hermione and Krum set you off. You could tell he wanted to be Krum, he wanted to be in his place. And the way he looked at Hermione? God, you had felt like he had ripped your heart out and laughed as he stomped on it. 
He had never looked at you like that, with such adoration, compassion, and with such love. The mere thought of this made you sob, your makeup running down your face as the moonlight hugged you in the red dress that you had gotten just for him. 
You planned on staying in your room all night, crying your guts out until you cried yourself dry and fell asleep. But, unexpectedly you heard a quiet voice saying your name, and a knock at the door.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Text
sleepy head ~ harry styles
word count: 1467
request?: yes!
“Hey! I request for the first time so I don't really know how much descriptive I have to be so yeah sorry if something's wrong,could I maybe request a Harry styles X reader where the reader has a bad habit of sleeping almost the whole day and when Harry wakes her up late in the afternoon she realizes that she missed yet another day with him and he comforts her beacuse she feels sad and guilty?(I hope this is understandable bc it's kind a problem of mine) thank you ♥️”
description: in which she struggles with staying awake and it makes her feel bad because she misses so much time with her boyfriend
pairing: harry styles x female!reader
warnings: rpf, more like a blurb than an imagine but...y’know
masterlist (one, two, three)
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You had no idea what it was that made you so sleepy all the time. You had gone to the doctor and had your thyroid levels and your iron checked, both of which came back fine. You had taken melatonin to try and sleep through an entire night. You even tried drinking coffee and energy drinks to get you through the day. So far, nothing really worked. You were still perpetually tired.
If you had work or any plans that meant you had to leave the house, you were usually awake enough to partake. But the minute you were home, your bed would be beckoning for you, and it was nearly impossible for you to resist.
It was something you already had a lot of issues with, and you were trying to work on it, but it especially became a problem when you started dating Harry.
Harry would never say it bothered him. He was adamant whenever it was brought up that he wasn’t bothered by how often you slept. You, however, were very bothered and felt incredibly bad whenever you slept in late, or when slept your entire day away. You had such little time with him since he was always so busy, and you didn’t want to lose that time by sleeping all day.
On one of the last days before Harry had to leave for tour, the two of you had planned to spend the whole day together. You set an alarm for early that morning so you could get up and fight off the sleep you were sure would try and convince you to stay in bed.
The second the alarm went off, you got out of bed and got ready. You got dressed, made a cup of coffee, washed your face with cold water to wake yourself up more, and made breakfast. You texted Harry to say good morning and to ask when he wanted to start your day together. You were almost finished eating when you got his response: “good morning, love. i’m not long awake, so it’ll probably be an hour or two before i’m ready if that’s okay.”
“of course! see you then ❤️”
Now you just had to stay awake for maybe two hours.
You washed the dishes, even dried them and put them away. You finished your first cup of coffee and put on the kettle for another. While the water was boiling, you went to brush your teeth and splashed your face with cold water again. You paced the kitchen as you waited for your coffee to cool down enough to drink. You couldn’t let yourself sit down. You knew the moment you did, you would risk being hit my fatigue and falling asleep.
You looked at the time on your clock and realized only 30 minutes had passed since Harry had texted you. He hadn’t sent another message yet to say he was ready. You groaned as you pocketed your phone again.
“I’ve had two cups of coffee,” you said to yourself. “That should be good enough to keep me awake.”
So, you moved to the living room and sat down on the couch. You sat as straight as possible, not even allowing yourself to lean on the arm rest or to slouch. You opened TikTok on your phone and started the mindless scrolling. You figured that would be the best way to pass the time. It was easy to fall down a TikTok rabbit hole and lose an hour or more.
Eventually, your back started to hurt from the unnatural way you were sitting. You allowed yourself to lean against the arm rest. But then the leaning turned into laying down. You were on your side with your phone in your hand, TikTok still open. Your eyes were growing heavy, but you fought against them. It wouldn’t be much longer till Harry was ready. You had to stay awake.
But it was a losing battle, and soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were sound asleep.
~~~~~~
You jumped awake at the feeling of someone’s hand touching your arm. You quickly sat up, the post sleep confusion still clinging to you.
“Hey, it’s okay It’s just me.”
You blinked your blurry eyes a few times until you focused on the familiar face of your boyfriend.
You smiled, sheepishly. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s alright. It took me a little longer to get ready than I expected.”
You stretched your arms over your head. “What time is it?”
“Um...almost 4?”
“What?!”
Your phone was on the floor, probably having fallen when you fell asleep. You picked it up to check the time to see he was right, it was almost 4pm. You also saw you had a number of texts and missed calls from Harry.
“I texted you a few times to let you know I was ready whenever you were,” he was explaining. “When you didn’t answer, I called a few times. I figured you were asleep, so I waited a while before coming over, to let you sleep.”
“How long was a while?” you asked.
When Harry didn’t respond, it was all the answer you needed.
Tears started to well up in your eyes as you buried your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe you let it happen again. You tried so hard not to fall asleep so you could spend Harry’s last day with him, and yet you still fell victim to your fatigue.
Harry gently took your hands and lowered them from your face. You refused to look up at him, keeping your eyes on the floor instead.
“Love, I’m not upset that you fell asleep,” he assured you.
“I’m upset,” you said. “I tried everything to stay awake. I knew that if I laid down I would end up falling asleep, and I still did it. I wasted our whole day.”
“Hey.” Harry cupped your face so you’d look at him. You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, so they were just running down your cheeks as you looked at him. “You can’t help that this happened.”
“I could’ve,” you said. “If I hadn’t let myself lay down I would’ve stayed awake. I should’ve found more chores to do around the place before you came, or something to keep me busy. But I shouldn’t have to do that! If there wasn’t something wrong with me, I’d be able to stay awake like a normal person.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
You gave him a look. “Yes there is, Harry. You’re always so nice when this happens, but I really wish you wouldn’t be. I wish you’d just tell me how you really feel about it, because I know it annoys you.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “When have I ever made it seem like I was annoyed?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right, you technically had no evidence to support your claim that he was annoyed with you. He had been nothing but kind and patient every time you had missed plans or fallen asleep while you were both together.
“You can’t help that you’re tired so much,” he continued. “You told me about it when we went out on our first date, it’s not like it’s something that is new and came out of nowhere. And you’ve tried to deal with it, but it’s just how you are. I’m not going to be mad at you for the way you are.”
You sniffled as new tears started to form in your eyes. “But...today was our last day together before you leave, and I slept through it.”
“Last I checked, it’s only 4pm. There’s still plenty of time to do things before I have to go to bed. What do you say we grab some take away and watch a movie here?”
You wiped your cheeks and nodded. “I’d like that. And you promise to wake me if I fall asleep on your lap?”
“I don’t know. You’re adorable when you sleep.”
You playfully pushed him. “I’m serious. I already lost most of my day with you. I don’t want to lose anymore time.”
He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you if you fall asleep, love.”
You smiled and kissed his lips. “I love you, and I really appreciate the fact that you put up with my sleepy-ness.”
“I’m not ‘putting up’ with anything, because I love you, too.”
He stood from the couch and pulled you with him. You followed him to his car, where the two of you went off to spend your evening together. And you made sure not to fall asleep until the both of you were tucked away in bed that night.
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missmielyhoran · 1 year
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Nightmare
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in which Harry cheated on you...
[Warning- Angst, cheating, pregnancy, Breakup, crying, Fluff, really bad grammer cause I'm tired and wrote this cause I couldn't focus on studying]
*****
Two years, seven months, eighteen days...
That's how long you knew Harry or so, you thought.
Your relationship with Harry was pure bliss. He cared for you, loved you in a way no one ever had. So, never in your nightmares you thought he would just up and break up with you only to find his arms around some blonde a week later.
It broke the worst way possible. For weeks, you stayed in your bed and ate when your best friend force fed you, which ended up in your toilet anyway.
That was almost a year months ago.
You still were very much hurt, and the sight of Harry still almost sent you down a spiral. So, when Jeff asked you to come back as tour manager, you tried to deny it, but there was a contract, and nowhere in hell did you have 10,000 laying around to break it.
So, you went back and did everything in your power to avoid Harry and his girlfriend.
But fate was never in your side.
Just a few days in tour, and you were already having a bad day. You saw a woman standing in the cafeteria with her back to you. Hair cliped up in a bun, a mask covering half of her face and her hand caressing her huge belly.
You immediately got up from your place on the couch and offered her. Her eyes squinted, which you took as a smile.
Then she removed her mask, and you couldn't breathe.
It was the same woman of your nightmare.
"Thank you so much sweetheart, can't tell you how much this pregnancy has been killing my feet," She said, huffing and laughing.
You couldn't say anything. You just stared at her belly. She was almost 7 to 8 months pregnant, you thought.
Was it an accident or did they planned it? Harry always wanted family with you, he talked and raved about having a little you and him.
Now he was having that with someone else.
You ran when you saw Harry walk in the room from the corner of your eye. You couldn't do this, you didn't care you had to fight in court or you had to pay hefty amout you to get out you just couldn't work there anymore.
Tears streaming down your face, you ran to Jeff's office and slammed open his door. He looked up from his laptop annoyed at first, then concerned when he saw your state. Then realization hit him, and his face morphed into guilt and sorrow.
"I can't do this anymore, Jeff. I can't." You cried more. He got up and took you in his arms, and you sobbed harder.
"I know. I know." He assured you his hand running up down your back consoling you.
"I understand baby, but I need you to wake up now," He said suddenly. You removed your face from his chest and looked at him weirdly, surprised by the nickname and the sentence.
"What the fu-"
"I need you to wake up Baby" He said again a bit harshly this time, his eyes a bit serious and panicked, "Y/N wake up-"
You jolted up from bed heaving. Your body was covered in sweat. Confused, you looked around and found a dark room. Moon was shining brightly from the window, and the soft buzzing of AC and your pants were filling the room.
A large hand came up to your jaw and then the brightest green eyes. Harry looked at you sweetly and smiled.
"There she is. You were having a bad dream, baby." He said softly, wiping sweat off your face. You looked down your hand immediately, going to your belly almost protectively, and Harry's followed right after.
Then you turned around and hit Harry's bicep harshly. His eyes widened, "Ow baby. That hurt." he said, holding your hands in his.
"How dare you" You said angirly, "What did I do-" He asked confused.
"How dare you cheat on me?!" You exclaimed. Harry looked at your wide-eyed and then started laughing hysterically.
At this point, you also realized how ridiculous you sounded and your face turned red with a grumpy pout. Your arms around your belly, you looked like a cute angry baby chicken.
"Oh sweetheart, what will I do of you?" He said, lovingly leaning down to take your lips into a sweet kiss.
*****
Hehehehehe...I was bored
Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515
Please Like, Comment and Reblog!
I will be back with posting from next monday♡
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reidslovely · 7 months
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Love of Mine
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Heeeey @hollandweather remember that request you sent me forever ago?? ii went with the mob!peter version ii hope you're good with that :)
Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Content Warnings: Lots of fighting and yelling, happyish ending, angsty. Let me know if I missed anything cause I'm sure I did.
Kind of a sequel but not really to this
Pretty please read and reblog!! thanks friend
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Freshly painted black nails contrasted against the soft cream color of the armchair cushion as she dug her nails into the fabric. Standing in the dimly lit office waiting for him to notice her, she stood like a haunting figure in front of him, simply waiting for an acknowledgment. 
“Peter.” Her words came out soft, yet stern. Swallowing the angry lump in her throat as his eyebrows raised, and his chest fell.
“Yes baby?”
He spoke simply, not even lifting his head to acknowledge her. He was engrossed in whatever he was looking at some paper with a mugshot attached. Ever since the shootout that killed him Peter had been different. He came back different. Angerier, more cruel. Never to her, just others. She hadn’t been sure what happened, maybe it had given him time to reflect. Time to be angry at the cards he was dealt in life. 
“Do you not..?” She fumbled over her words in her upset. 
“It feels like you don’t care about..us anymore Peter.” There was a sad honesty in her voice. She wished she had been making it up, that it was all in her head. Peter threw himself into his work the moment he got better. He’d leave several times for days on end; not a single call to let her know he was okay or when he’d be home. It was unlike him. 
He furrowed his brows, looking at her finally. “Of course I care, baby.”
 Again, there's the distance in his voice. It feels rehearsed, almost like he’d been practicing this delivery for the months he’s been back. There were times where he didn’t seem himself, he was quick to anger and quick to jump. He and Harry having nearly had several physical altercations since being back. Felicia having gone ghost on them after she and Peter had it out over an action plan. His wife was feeling his anger, and it was nesting in her. She could try to nurse him back to his mentality before, she could settle his arguments with friends and colleagues. However, she could only handle him neglecting her for so long. 
“Do you know what today is?” She began to wander around the office. Their wedding picture is sitting snugly on the bookcase in a gold frame. Both are much younger in the photo having gotten married straight out of high school. 
“October 19th..wh- Oh, oh baby.” 
For a moment her Peter was there, the realization washed over the room. She knew he felt like an idiot rethinking the day. She’d made his favorite breakfast, they showered together, and she’d even gone shopping and excitedly showed him everything she had gotten. She was now dressed in a purple slip dress she’d bought today. 
 He forgot their anniversary. 
 Peter stood up from his desk rushing to her. She felt exposed under his touch, pulling her face away as he grabbed her jaw in his calloused hand. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry baby.” 
“It’s whatever Peter.” She backed away, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just wanted to know that you still cared and…well, I got my answer.” Angrily she stormed out of his office, slamming the door shut behind her. A photo of them falling off his decor table in the show of aggression, the frame bursting into dozens tiny pieces. 
Peter followed behind her, his feet slamming against the hardwood of the stairs. “I don’t care! Is that what you’re saying right now?” 
“That's what I said.” She yells back trying to slam their bedroom door in his face. Peter grabbed it, pushing it open. He stared at her in shock, standing there with his arms at his side. His wife glaring back at him, tears spilling down her cheeks. 
“You don’t care about me or us anymore. All you care about is killing those people who hurt you. All you care about is work, what’s being moved in and what's being taken out.” She started pointing a finger at him. “This is the last fucking straw Peter. I’m fucking tired. I can’t keep fixing the things you fuck up because you are so blinded by rage. You are so fucking selfish. You forgot my birthday, and our wedding anniversary. Harry doesn’t even want to see you any fucking more because you are not yourself. I want Peter back not whatever fucking stranger crawled into your body while you were dying. I want my husband because you are not him, he was a good husband.” 
Both her and Peter stared at one another. She knew she shouldn’t have said it.  
Her anger echoed in the room, she expected him to fight back. She wanted him to fight back, yell, scream, let her know that he in some way cared. Instead he turned and looked at himself in the mirror and then down at his socked feet. 
“So me proving I care about you, about Harry. About anything other than myself would mean I’d stop taking down the people who hurt me. I’d stop going after Li or Fisk’s guys who got together and planned to kill not only me but everything I cared about including you?”
 He stared at her like she had five heads. Not knowing how to respond she rubbed her hands down her face. He was putting words in her mouth. 
“Cool, cool  yeah. I’ll stop, fuck I’ll step down from being the head of this organization.  We can totally live a normal life not constantly looking over our shoulders.`` 
“You’re being mean, you’re putting words in my fucking mouth.” She warns. Peter takes a deep breath shaking his head as he looks down, something he did to keep himself from crying. 
“I went to that warehouse to protect all of you. Do you understand that? Because if I didn’t go to them, they were gonna come to us. Now, I am cleaning up a mess I made that has put you all at risk. I’m..” Peter’s hands shook at his side, before coming up to rub his face aggressively. He dropped down to the floor sitting his back against the wall. 
“I’m sorry I’m a bad husband, I haven’t been a good husband since that night and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you here, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry that I put you in any danger by coming back. But as a good husband and as a good friend or boss I have to kill them.” He whispered to her, as she joined him on the floor. 
“You have every right to be mad at me. I’m mad at myself. And this isn’t me guilt tripping you, this is me telling you that you’re right I haven’t been a good husband and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot your birthday and our anniversary and that I’ve been a total piece of shit.”
“I didn’t mean it. I just, I knew it would hurt your feelings and I wanted you to hurt like I did.” 
Peter kissed her head, his hand cradling her cheek bringing her to his chest. She let out a soft sigh burying her head in his neck. “I just got caught up in keeping everyone safe that I forgot what I was protecting. I am so sorry for hurting you and doing anything that made you feel like I didn’t love you” He whispered in her hair, rubbing small circles on her back. 
“I know. And I know I’ll forgive you for it, but can we start by at least having an anniversary night? It’s all I want, just you and me, no work or anything.”
“I’ll give you an anniversary week, how's that?” Peter bargains. “Make up for the missed birthday. We can go anywhere you want.” 
“Anywhere?” She smiles up at her husband, who gives her a loving look before kissing her cheek. 
“Anywhere.” He confirms holding her closer. “I love you.” He assures her, pulling her legs over his thigh rocking her. 
“I love you too.”
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snifflesthemouse · 2 months
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Is Harry Suing the UK to Hide Truth of Visa and Security?
Let’s talk about a few things going on in the Royal News World, Shall We?
This mouse isn’t completely sure of coming back entirely, but I figured a post here and there would be fine. Let’s get started.
My people come bearing some insights: Just about everyone in the aristocracy is openly aware that Harry isn’t truly cut off. As a matter of fact, some believe that Harry is only in the US because Charles sent him here and he is in fact on an A1 visa. Not so much as a banishment, but as a way to play both sides of the media circus and keep them all relevant. The whole world tunes in every time something pops up.
What brings more clickbait? Ask yourself the hard questions, though, don’t take the easy route. I’ve seen some things going around, and I see people truly never ask the hard questions.
I pray for the day when everyone wakes up and realizes that being elderly doesn’t make you harmless or innocent. This author was told the same things about Harry not being told about the diagnosis for the cancer until we all heard, BUT BEFORE. Interesting that ever got leaked out in the press, isn’t it? Why even tell us when he got told? Harry probably leaked it and did it to make Charles look favorable. Do you think Charles would let it get leaked? To what end? To look like the loving, yet firm father everyone demands him to be, the man that he cannot. The man he is not.
And now there are articles coming out about the contingency plans for Charles being sick. Harry is not in them, at all. Why would he need to be? Doesn’t that say a lot? The fact people have to be told Harry isn't included is silly. But you know what they say about assumptions.
Now, I was told by a friend that’s a doctor the whole story of the cancer being found during the prostate stuff made no sense. They would’ve seen other indicators beforehand. They ARE the greatest medical professionals on the planet, aren’t they? You mean a PET scan or blood test or anything like that, at all, wouldn’t hint at the other problems? This was a choreographed release of information.
It's being suggested that the press will be informed to release a cascade of tidbits over the coming weeks. Lady C said early spring, before summer. She also said it was Princess Anne who made the “racist baby” comments, and that was also a ruse. I’m pretty sure Lady C picked Team Charles back in the 80s, and she’s been working to gain grace and favor since. I think she wants to seem like she knows things to sell books or views. Go, girl, get that paper.
Speaking of paper, it was suggested one of the main reasons Charles was so upset with Harry when he “rushed right over” was because he asked for more money. Anyone could assume that but think about what he did immediately afterwards. He went over there only to have something to give an interview for. He got paid to “not squeal” on an interview. The Sussexes don’t lift a finger for free… they only lift them for freebies. Or money.
If Harry is here on an A1 Visa as a favor between Charles and the US, that means we are paying for that security in America. No wonder Harry is suing the UK, he needs to make it look like he needs something when he already has it. How would they possibly have the money to pay for their own? I posted the mortgage documents, remember. Do the math. They have 10 years to pay that house off in full before they get a 7.48% interest rate. They have upkeep, services, servants, nannies, clothes, utilities, maintenance that must be maintained or the bank could come in and do it themselves… Those things aren’t cheap. You have to have a faucet of money coming in to handle it all. They don’t even have a drip.
Oh, and I was told to really look at Harry’s page on the Royal website. And that the minute Wills gets that crown, his brother will be done for. Which is why Charles could be trying to be a father instead of a king in that situation. Then again, if Wills had hard feelings for both Charles and Harry, and Charles had a jealousy over Wills and the Queen… that’s a lot of ifs
One this is for sure. Harry will NEVER return to the BRF in a working capacity. Everything is a dance of smoke and mirrors.
It makes total sense to have Harry here on an A1 visa, have him in constant litigation with the UK so we peons think he needs security, but in reality he is here on a visa supplying him the protection he thinks he deserves. Of course, an FOIA would need to be filed, probably… I wonder if I could do that and see how he is really here. I don’t believe he is here on an O1 or spousal visa.
What is the real reason for all of this, people? It's just Flying Pasta, like before.
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bumblesimagines · 22 days
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Beth Harmon
you look... good.
you changed your hair.
when i needed you most, you were gone.
i was a lousy partner.
you look... good.
you changed your hair.
when i needed you most, you were gone.
i was a lousy partner.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, Male!Reader
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A million things ran through Beth's mind as she furiously tried lighting her cigarette but the damn flame refused to flicker for longer than a second. Her mother, Benny Watts, Harry, Cleo, Bargov, Bargov, Bargov, they all consumed her every waking moment. Her hangover thumped violently in her head, the consequences of spending the whole day drinking whatever she could get her hands on the day prior, yet another thing distracting her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to break the damn lighter and-
"Beth?" The flame flickered, lighting her cigarette as a new voice sent a chill down her spine. Familiar, oh so familiar. A voice she so often thought about, dreamt about even. Her arms dropped to her side, pulling the cigarette along as she shakily exhaled a cloud of smoke into the crisp morning air. Her tongue swiped over her lips and she turned to face him. He was no longer a boy. He was a young man now. 
"(Y/N)." She greeted, her eyes dropping to scan his figure. He wore a cozy-looking long-sleeved sweater and his coat draped over his arm. He looked grown, obliviously, but it startled how mature he appeared. No longer the sly jock who smoked with her behind the school and listened to her explain chess without teasing her or trying to change her. Her former second biggest fan - her first biggest fan would always be Alma, her beautiful complicated adoptive mother -, her first kiss, her first time, her first heartbreak. "You look... good." She hadn't intended for it to come out so bitter.
"You changed your hair." (Y/N) smiled, that damned smile that'd made her heart skip a beat when she'd first seen it directed at her in the hallway at school. His gaze lifted to her red locks, mostly blocked by the beanie she wore. She'd barely brushed it that morning, only raked her fingers through it and when it refused to comply she'd opted for covering it. "It suits you, Beth. It's- It's good seeing you." 
She looked a mess, she realized, and bit her tongue. Beth smiled, forcibly and awkwardly, and took another drag from her cigarette to ease her jittering nerves. Not even Benny Watts had that sort of effect on her, even with his fluffy hair and cheeky smile. "I didn't think you'd still live around here. You said you wanted to leave this place and never come back." 
"I did leave. For college, I mean. I came back after graduating." He explained with a casual shrug. Of course, he had his life together. Beth hummed absentmindedly and nodded, rolling the cigarette between her index and middle fingers as she tried shoving down all the 'what ifs' desperately trying to rise. "I hear you've made quite the name for yourself, Beth. I'm happy for you."
"You weren't so happy when I had to attend tournaments." The words tumbled out quickly, far too fast for her to shut her mouth before she got the sentence out. (Y/N)'s smile faltered slightly and he chuckled dryly, something that made her wince. But all the inconveniences that'd piled up had put her in too of a bad mood to even think about apologizing. 
"Yeah, it doesn't help you chose a tournament over being here when my father passed, Beth. When I needed you most, you were gone. I think most people would be upset over that, don't you?" Beth pressed her lips together and she nodded, her gaze dropping down onto the pavement beneath her feet. 
"Yeah, I... I was a lousy partner." She admitted quietly. "I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to hurt you, (Y/N). Really. I- I just-"
"It's fine, Beth. It's in the past. We were kids. I never thought we'd end up as high school sweethearts, anyway." It stung to hear, especially when Alma had teased her about him being 'the one'. She nodded, forcing another tight-lipped smile in feigned agreeance and taking a long drag from her cigarette before dropping it on the floor and stepping on the end. She exhaled the smoke and motioned toward the building. 
"Are you here for someone?" For her?
"Yeah, actually, my..." He paused. "My, uhm, my fiancée's nephew is actually competing today. She's out of town so she asked me to, uhm... show some support, I guess."
Fiancée. God, it'd felt like she'd been sucker-punched. "Oh." She simply blurted out in response, her mouth refusing to form any other words. (Y/N) nodded, releasing a breathy laugh as if her world hadn't suddenly turned on its axis. There'd always been a part of her that believed they'd find each other again, that he'd attend a tournament and they'd catch up only to begin their romance all over again. 
"I could... I could see about getting you an invitation if you'd like? It'd be... nice to have you there, Beth." 
"Yeah, of course, I'm... I'm happy for you." What a lie.
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allwaswell16 · 9 months
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One Direction fics where a character unexpectedly gets a call from the hospital or must rush to the hospital for another character and end up realizing their feelings as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!
—Louis/Harry—
❤️‍🩹 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo
(E, 144k, rehab) Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want.
❤️‍🩹 Consequences by @allwaswell16
(E, 78k, amnesia au) Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up.
❤️‍🩹 Feels Like Coming Home by @phdmama
(E, 60k, angst) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. 
❤️‍🩹 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou
(M, 31k, omega Louis) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic
❤️‍🩹 devil's waltz by nebuloussubject
(M, 23k, canon) a sickfic with a slow burn
❤️‍🩹  Hypotheticals (series) by tomlinsunshine
(T, 15k, friends to lovers) This whole "running away" thing really isn't going as planned.
❤️‍🩹 Stay by rabbithole28
(M, 12k, exes to lovers) Louis was taken to hospital after a car accident. They called Harry letting him know that his fiance was unconscious and in a serious condition. The only problem was, Harry hadn't seen Louis since he walked out of their flat three years earlier.
❤️‍🩹 Wanna Do Nothing With You by whoknows
(E, 9k, canon) The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital.
❤️‍🩹 tides thrash inside by ifthat / @lovehl
(E, 8k, a/b/o) "How could I call you when I needed you as far as possible to sever our spatial bond?”
❤️‍🩹 Tight Grip on Reality by roseslotuslouis / @fandomaws
(G, 8k, angels) Louis is called as Harry’s emergency contact after he gets into an accident and they are thrust back into each others lives
❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13
(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.
❤️‍🩹 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i
(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene
—Rare Pairs—
❤️‍🩹 We Used To Wait by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 56k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has an accident, but nobody even knows he and Nick are going out.
❤️‍🩹 some velvet morning, years too late by tintedglasses
(T, 35k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis wakes up in the hospital with unfinished business at his bedside. Turns out Nick has some unfinished business, too.
❤️‍🩹 I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 9k, Zayn/Liam) He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend
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cassiopeiasdaughter · 9 months
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midnight rain
Theodore Nott x fem!reader
part of the midnights collection
December 5th, 1998
Dear Diary,
I feel exhausted. I thought it would be over by now. I don’t think any of us ever expected this to go on for so long.
It started in the summer of ‘97 and 1999 is right around the corner. No, maybe not in 1997; it started many years ago, before I was born, before most people in this house were born. It must end soon and right this time. For good.
No more hatred, violence. We can’t let that happen again. I refuse to live in a world like that.
Last week was a nightmare. We were sent to Little Hangleton; a small village where the first Horcrux was created. We didn't find much, I remember Draco complaining about how wasteful the trip was and Hermione shouting at him; I found it funny at first, it brought me back to school but it was different this time.
Now they don’t actually hate eachother and I am sure that if something were to happen, they’d run to help eachother without hesitation. I was so lost in thought, daydreaming about our future; how everything will look like if we make it… and I guess that is why I didn't hear them.
Death Eaters, werewolves, everywhere. They were waiting for us, and they were so many. We were surrounded and had no other choice but to fight.
I was too busy fending off two Death Eaters and I didn’t see Greyback running towards me all bloody and terrifying.
Once I realized what was happening I stood frozen, I physically couldn’t move, I kept begging myself to do something, fight- run- scream- anything. He knocked me down and pushed my body to the ground with his claws. The blood on him was fresh and it got all over me. I couldn’t help but play it in my mind; how he killed the person whose blood was now on me. How he would soon kill me.
I can still feel his weight on my chest, when I am about to sleep, I can feel his breath on my neck and his claws on my shoulder.
I could have been bit, he could have killed me right then, just like he has done to so many people. But, Nott Theo was there and he cast a spell on him, causing him to fly away from me.
Hermione ran to me and we teleported back here. I couldn't speak and Theo kept shouting "Did he bite you?", "Is it your blood?", I just shook my head and locked myself in the shower, scrubbing my skin clean, getting rid of all the blood; of every feeling tied to that place.
I remember now the way the others looked at me, with pity, as if I had lost my mind.
I feel too weak for this war sometimes, like I am not made for something like this, I am not like Ginny or Harry. I am not like Hermione who kept her calm and willed herself to fight.
No one stopped when danger came, they weren’t scared and even if they were; survival kicked in.
The storm outside your window had been slowly calming you down. If you close your eyes you can pretend you are in your bed at Hogwarts, curled up in blankets and listening to the rain tapping on your window. Scottish winters were your favorites, storms always brought a sense of comfort to you, and rain lulled you to sleep.
Now, the crack of thunder scares you so much that the pen flies out of your hand landing somewhere on the desk and you stumble out of your chair, jumping backwards. You need to run, but in which direction? You feel the threat of tears forming in your eyes, but you know that if you let yourself fall down that hole, it won’t be easy to dig yourself out of it.
You look around in despair, begging your mind to find anything to distract yourself and that is when you hear a soft knock on your door.
Before you answer the door you make sure to wipe your tears and fix your hair; to try and look normal. But what is normal now anyways?
You find Hermione with a sympathetic smile; you know that smile. It is a smile she reserves for her friends, when they need help, comfort. You never were on the receiving end of it, it was always Harry or Ginny, sometimes Ron. You hate that now it is your turn to be pitied, taken care of. It feels strange and it makes you uneasy. 
“I brought you soup.” She says with a clam voice and steps inside.
You quickly walk over your desk with her, but close your diary before she can read what you’ve written.
“You didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you’ll be hungry.”, she places the bowl on your desk, by your things and turns to look at you.
You desperately try to avoid her gaze, not wanting to seem more wounded than you are, “Ah- yeah thank you.”, you lie staring at your hands.
She casts a Muffliato, blocking anyone outside the room from listening, before she begins to tell you news from the boys. 
“They managed to destroy two of them, they don’t want us to know more, but they might be heading to Hogwarts soon.”
“Hogwarts? Why?” You ask surprised 
“Uh- Harry is sure there are Horcruxes there. Moody hasn’t allowed it yet, but they will go. I know it.”, 
You nod silently, two Horcruxes down, how many more to go? It took you almost two years for two of them, who knows when the rest will be destroyed. And even if you manage to get rid of them all, how can you be so sure Voldemort will lose? Even without the Horcruxes, he has a whole army, full of deadly wizards and witches to protect him. It would take one order for the werewolves to attack you and kill you.
Tears begin forming in your eyes again; the more you think about the War the more hopeless everything feels. You can’t let Hermione see you ruined; Hermione who has been your closest friend all these years, the one that has managed to stay strong and not back down. You know what she did to her parents, instead of running with them she stayed. She bears the most danger but she still hasn’t lost hope; she continues fighting. No, you can’t let her see you break down, you owe her that. 
You look around the room to avoid her gaze once again when your eyes land on a brown coat, discarded on a chair, in the corner of the room. It is the coat Theo gave you that night on the porch, you still haven’t given it back. What better time to do that than now, when you so desperately need to avoid Hermione before you drop to your knees and cry in front of her.
Immediately, you run and grab the coat and turn to Hermione with an apologetic look on your face “I am so sorry, I need to give Nott this, before I forget it. He let me borrow it a few weeks ago.”, you say and take fast strides towards the door, while also guiding/kicking her out of your room. 
Once you are both out you head towards his room while also shouting behind your shoulder “I love you, we’ll talk later.”
While clutching the wool on your hands to ground you, you stop outside Theos room. You remember the time, it must be a few minutes past midnight by now, and the rain hasn’t calmed one bit, lightning lights up the cold corridor through the windows.
You knock a few times, telling yourself that if he doesn’t answer you’ll leave and smoke another of Lunas cigarettes to ease your mind. Maybe you’ll try one of the cookies she’s been begging you to taste…
The door opens as you begin to curse yourself for causing this much trouble in just one night, and a sleepy red-eyed Theo stands in front of you confused.
You force an apologetic smile and hold out his coat in front of him “Sorry for waking you up, I wanted to return this.”
He takes it off of your hands “Ah- it’s ok, thank you.”
He doesn’t make a move to close the door and head inside his room, and you don’t turn around to leave. You both stare at eachother silently and wait for the other person to do something.
The sound of thunder scares you both and as you jump a little he grabs your arm as if preventing you from falling.
“It’s really loud tonight, isn’t it? And it has been going on for ages.”, he says awkwardly
“Yes. I hate it.”, you say and look around nervously
“You uh- want to come inside?”
“Don’t you want to go back to sleeping?”, you ask him
“I- no I wasn’t sleeping, I can’t”,he replies awkwardly
So you nod and step inside. The room is dark and messy. The curtains are drawn over the windows, shielding him from the outside world and the only thing lighting the space is the old lamp by his bed.
It feels cold, just like the Slytherin Common Room, in the depths of the Great Lake. As your eyes move towards his bed you spot old photos of him and his housemates, no not just any housemates, his friends and Blaise.
You look into his face again and observe how his cheeks are glistening, his eyes aren’t red because he is tired, he was crying. 
He quickly cleans up the bed and throws a couple of pillows on the floor to sit there. He looks at you expectantly and gives you a boyish smile which you return as you sit opposite to him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, while he leans his back on the bed.
A few minutes of silence pass, crucial for both of you to adjust to this new situation. Alone, in a dark bedroom, obviously seeking comfort and solace in eachother, and also needing a space to hide from the outside world.
“Than-” “Are you-?” You say at the same time and then let out an awkward laugh.
“You first.”, Theo says
“Thank you for Little Hangleton, I haven’t seen you since then. I owe you.”
He scratches the back of his head as he remembers the battle, Greyback, your look afterwards.
“How are you, after that- after everything?” A sincere question that stabs your insides slowly.
“I” you laugh awkwardly “I am fine, others have had it worse” your best friend was killed in front of you you want to say, but instead settle for an “I will be fine.”
“Tsk” he mutters “Don’t do that, don’t act like it was nothing, I was there.”
“Well, we are fighting in a war, we know things like that are prone to happen.”
“You can never prepared when they happen to you.”, you know he is right but you can’t let yourself accept it.
“But nothing happened, he didn’t do anything to me. You knocked him off me before he-”, you can’t say the words and need a minute to take a breath.
“I know”, he says 
“I am safe.” you say with a loud voice and the threat of tears in your eyes
“I know” he says again with a calm voice, his eyes never leaving yours.
His gentleness is what causes you to break. And it is because behaviors like his don’t belong in these times. His voice; filled with the promise of safety and warmth is what you crave most; and the second you realize it is nothing but an illusion, a daydream, you break down.
You can feel a door, inside your chest bursting open and letting out all the feelings you’ve been keeping to yourself. Anger, sadness, hopelessness; they are all out in the open- making you vulnerable to him. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see the pity on his face, or worse; you’re afraid he now sees you for who you are, a fragile little girl, pretending to be strong and brave.
You are unable to say anything to him, so you wait for him to leave you alone and then pretend this never happened. He doesn’t do anything for the first few seconds, but then you are in his arms and your face is buried in his chest.
He remains silent, not wanting to lie and say “its alright” or “I know how you feel”. He just remains silent and waits for you to let it all out. And that is enough.
By the time you’ve run out of tears the storm has also stopped, leaving you with the soft sound of light rain. 
The realization then, of where you are and who you are with stains your cheeks red and makes your body hot. You slowly raise yourself from Theos chest and before you cry out of embarrassment you say “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, you shouldn't have seen that.”, with a self-deprecating tone
He gives you a reassuring smile, “It’s alright, you dont have to keep everything inside, you shouldn’t.”
You almost believe him, you want to, but then you see the mess your tears made on his shirt and out of instinct you hide your face in your hands. “Oh Godric, it’s embarrassing.”
He laughs and gently pulls your hands from your eyes, “You aren’t the only one losing her mind over the War.”, he jokes and you laugh, but then he continues with a serious voice
“Every time I sleep, I dream of Blaise, dying, and I can’t help him. Ever. And on the nights I am not able to sleep I can hear those who scream as they wake up, on the other die of the walls.”
“You don’t have to carry it alone, whatever it is.”, he finishes
You fight the urge to cry and softly say“Thank you.” Without thinking you place your hand in his “Then, you dont have to carry it alone either, you can talk to me, whenever you want.”, but suddenly, you feel as if you’re overstepping or getting too close so you pull back and say “If you haven’t already talked to the others, of course.”
He gives you a nod and you can see how his movements have slowed down and his eyes are glassy.
“I am sorry for staying so long, I’ll leave you alone, you must be tired.” You say as you stand up “Thank you again and if you ever need my help, I am a corridor away.”
“Thank you”
“Goodnight.”, you say with a smile and he answers back “Goodnight.”
Returning to your room, you feel as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. Of course, the weight will appear again in the future, but now you know how to get rid of it. You promise yourself to talk to Hermione in the morning. Let her in, and ask her how she is doing.
Under her strong exterior there may be hiding a scared and tired girl too. She must need someone to talk to, you owe her to be that person. Because, you love her and because she is the closest thing you have to a home now. 
You see your diary and remember you never finished what you were writing, you think you want to write about Theo, but whatever it is that happened just then, whatever you are starting to feel right now, is too new. It is so new and fragile that you can’t even write about it in your diary.
It will be alright. I may not be strong right now, I may be scared and breakable but I know that it can be fixed. I just need to focus on the good, whatever is left of it now. I need to focus on the missions and on winning. The faster we win, the sooner I can be okay again. 
It is just another storm, and after the storm rainbows come out.
Thank you for being here for me.
Yours,
But as you begin to write down your name you hear a soft knock on the door. It must be Hermione, you think and prepare yourself for the talk you ought to have and the many apologies you owe her for avoiding her like that.
On the other side of the door however, stands a flushed Theo, wearing his Slytherin sweatshirt and holding his pillow to his chest. “Can I sleep here tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”, he whispers self-consciously and you can’t do anything but let him in.
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eat your apples because your future doctors are over here posting self insert fics instead of studying immunology 🤪🤠
this will be continued
also: feedback & criticism are very much appreciated & needed
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harrystylescherry · 1 year
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A/N: i am finally back from the pits of...my life, where all i do is work and complete grad school homework. i have like 15 fics started but not finished--but this one got done in 2 days!! look, girls (me) just wanna have fun (erotic fantasies) okay? thanks
*warning: spanking/paddling, mild pain
what this is: pure smut tbh
word count: 7.1k
let me know what you think :)
MASTERLIST
“Come,” Harry’s voice was low, demanding, as he sat on the edge of the bed with his hands gripping the end of the mattress.
Your insides melted and heat spread between your thighs–but you weren’t in the mood to play the part of the submissive today. Although your boyfriend would argue that it wasn’t a part you were playing at all, but who you were deep down. And you hated that he was right. Because underneath your frustration was the need for him to not be upset with you, to please him, to ask for forgiveness.
But you had had a shitty day, one filled with pointless meetings that kept you from doing the work you were actually hired to do, and then got chewed out by your boss for not having met a deadline–one she told you not to worry about in favor of attending those stupid meetings. So you had worked late, hammering out a piece on the benefits of vitamin C, which was really just a regurgitation of all the other info that existed on the internet.
Harry had tried to comfort you, to rub your shoulders as you typed as fast as you could, sighs slipping so fast from your lips it sounded like a single, never ending sound. It was when he suggested, or more-like commanded, that you take a break and eat something that you snapped at him. At the time, you hadn’t really been thinking of the consequences. Especially since he brushed it off with a light squeeze of the back of your neck.
After you sent off the piece (along with a very fake but very polite apology to your manager about missing the deadline), you slapped your laptop shut and finally took a seat across from him at the table.
You didn’t even acknowledge him as you dug into the pasta he had made, realizing for the first time that you hadn’t eaten since ten that morning, despite working from his home office. You were wound tight, your shoulders still tense even after Harry had attempted to relieve some pressure.
“You really need to quit.” He said, his eyes on you.
“I know,” you sighed. You didn’t want to have this conversation with him again. It happened once a week. He just didn’t get it–he was older (only by a few years, teetering on the edge of his twenties) and was already established, already successful. He was already a partner at an ad firm, already proved he was worth something. You, on the other hand, were a struggling journalist who wanted into the music industry–but freelance was hard and you needed money. This job paid a lot. Probably because they needed to make up for the fact that the company itself was a shit show. But it was fine–and you were applying. You were trying to quit, but you needed a net. And Harry didn’t understand that.
“You work ridiculous hours and your boss is insane.”
“I know.”
“It’s killing you, and–”
“Jesus Christ, I know,” you snapped. “Do you really think I don’t know? I hate my fucking job, but I need it, okay? And no, you can’t help me so I can quit and not have to worry while finding something new. I don’t need you to take care of me. So stop.”
His shock morphed into irritation. “That’s strike two.” His voice was hard. “And only because I know you’re having a bad day, and that you didn’t mean it.”
“And what if I did,” you mumbled as you moved your food around your plate.
Harry exhaled sharply through his nose and stood up from the table. “Finish eating. Then we’ll talk.” It wasn’t a request. On his way to the sink, he dropped a hand into your hair and scratched softly. “I’ll be in my office.”
Even in a shit mood, Harry in Dom mode was hot. This wasn’t something new to either of you, but you two weren’t very hardcore either–no whips or masks, or gags. You were more of a bondage and mild pain kind of girl and Harry respected that, though he did sometimes push your limits.
When you two were out in the world–on dates, at parties, with family or friends–the dynamic was normal, but in the evenings, after you were both home from work, and over the weekends he got to order you around, punish you and take you however and wherever he wanted. So, really, you should probably apologize before you got yourself in trouble.
You weren’t in the mood to give up control tonight, not entirely. You didn’t even think you could if you wanted to. The stress was at an all time high and you were gripping tight to whatever control you had, since at work lately, it felt like you had none; at the whim of everyone you worked under. The late nights, the Teams messages at random hours of the day–your control was slipping in a way you didn’t like. There was no way you could give up whatever semblance of it you had left.
It seemed your boyfriend knew that, and was giving you opportunities to relax in a way he didn’t do very often–ever, actually, up until a few weeks ago when you started shutting down from stress. Instead of bending you over his knee or edging you until you were close to tears, he’d let the disobedience slide and curl you into his lap or side instead. Still, he’d demand you tell him how you felt, talk through your stress and frustration, refusing to let you disrupt the free flowing communication that needed to exist between the two of you, or keep yourself closed off from him.
Opening up to him wasn’t hard. It never was, and it’s what made him the perfect Dom for you. That and he was really fucking hot, lean but strong. And the way he looked in a suit? Jesus.
Your muscles clenched at the thought.
You finished your plate and drank the rest of your wine. After dumping your plate in the sink and refilling your glass, you made your way up the stairs and down the hallway where Harry’s office was. You paused to the right of the doorway and took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t want to talk. It wouldn’t do any good. Why couldn’t he just let you stew and drink. Why did he have to know everything?
Something inside you flared. That was bad. Anger wasn’t good–anger meant a biting remark that would surely get you in trouble. You took a long sip of wine and another deep breath before relaxing your shoulders and walking into the room.
Harry was sitting at his desk, typing away on his laptop. He had cleaned up all your work stuff from the day, piled your notebooks neatly on top of your laptop, recapped all your pens and fastened them back into their case.
You stood next to him, and he didn’t even look at you. You tried not to tap your foot or sigh with impatience, but it was hard.
“Plan on behaving now?” He asked with his eyes still on the screen.
You bit your tongue and counted to three. “Yes.”
He raised his eyebrow and peeked over at you.
You swallowed the annoyed sigh. “Yes, sir.” You ignored the way your cheeks flared when you said it.
“Better,” he said before going back to the document on his screen.
Oh my god. Couldn’t you two just get this over with so you could take a bath and go to sleep? The thought of having to wake up and work tomorrow made your jaw clench. You closed your eyes and told yourself it was fine.
But it wasn’t fine. You were miserable and so stressed out that you woke up every morning with a sore jaw. The anxiety bundled in the pit of your stomach before making its way up your throat. The thought of logging in tomorrow, being met with at least seventy emails and your submitted draft hacked up by your manager–who had never written a thing in her life, by the way–made your cheeks burn and chest clench.
If Harry noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He didn’t tell you to sit down or go to sleep or…literally anything. The anxiety morphed itself back into frustration as you just stood there, waiting.
He pulled his hands from his keyboard and rubbed them over his face before motioning to you. You took a step closer and he pushed the chair back slightly and pulled you to stand between his legs. Harry took the glass from your hands and put it on the desk. He planted his hands firmly on your hips and squeezed until it was almost painful.
A rush moved through you.
He dropped his head against the spot right under your chest and kissed over the t-shirt you wore. Before you could drop a hand into his hair, he stood up.
He walked towards the small love seat that sat next to the tall bookshelves and pulled you after him. You worked hard not to shuffle your feet.
Harry sat down and pulled you into his lap with ease. “Talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” You were met with narrowed eyes and a stern look. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest and his eyes narrowed even more. When you wouldn’t relent, Harry squeezed one of your thighs harshly. You jumped and resented the heat that returned below. You dropped your hands into your lap and Harry’s big hand fell over them. Holding them here.
“Try again.”
You stretched your neck, trying to expel some of the frustration and anxiety you felt. You didn’t want to talk about it. Why did you always have to talk about it? Maybe if you just apologized, it would be fine and he’d let it go. Maybe. Hopefully.
“I’m sorry, sir.” You morphed your face into something that you hoped looked sincere and sorry. Even though you weren’t. At least, you weren’t sorry [enough]. You didn’t want to upset him, ever. You wanted his praise, for him to be proud of you–but there was only so much succumbing to power a girl could take. You were taking it enough at work. Succumbing at home wasn’t as easy these last few weeks. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t be lying to me either.”
“I’m not–” Another harsh squeeze to your thigh. When you saw the disapproving look on his face, a part of you yearned to fix it. And you fought that part of you away. Keep your control.
“We don’t lie, love.” The softness seeped back into his voice. “If you’re going to apologize, you’re going to mean it.”
You raised your eyes to his, a rip of fire going through you. You didn’t want to apologize to him–not when he started it. You had dolled out enough apologies for one day–to your manager, mostly, after taking the blame and fixing problems she created. “Well, then I guess I’m not apologizing.” A pause. “Sir.”
Harry clicked his tongue in disapproval and gave a laugh devoid of any humor. “Strike three, then.”
You rolled your eyes and he caught your chin between his fingers roughly. “You and your fucking attitude lately. I’ve been patient.” His eyes darkened. “Not anymore.”
He put you on your feet and tugged your hair before walking wordlessly out of the room.
You knew you were supposed to follow him, that he [expected] you to follow him–a shiver ran down your spine. The urge to follow him, to relinquish your control started to consume you and you fought it.
If you don’t go, it’ll be worse. If he has to call your name, the punishment will be worse.
You squeezed your eyes shut cursing yourself for being stupid, for forgetting your restraint; for thinking that Harry would allow you a little power, that you could hold onto it.
By the look in his eye and the tone of his voice, he hadn’t been joking. His patience was spent and you were in for it.
Your thighs clenched at the thought and a little apprehension mixed with the thread of thrill that laced through your stomach. He wouldn’t be too harsh, would he? It had been a while. A few weeks at the least–maybe even two months since you had been punished, since things had hurt just a little more than they pleasured.
You realized you were still standing in the middle of the office and hurried after him down the hallway, not wanting to give him another reason.
His back was to you when you stepped into the room and he was taking off his tie in front of the mirror. “Strip,” he ordered.
The deepness of his voice was welcome, though your nerves spiked just a little.
You pushed your jeans down your legs and slipped off your t-shirt. Then, your bra and panties. When he turned, his gaze was disapproving and your heart sank.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to look at me,” he said as he rolled up his sleeves.
You dropped your eyes immediately. Christ, he was serious. You were in more trouble than you had been in in ages.
“Turn around and bend over. Hands around your ankles.”
Your face heated. Immediately, you did as you were told and chastised yourself. So much for keeping a semblance of control.
“What’s your safe word?”You heard him open the wardrobe in the corner of the room and then rummaging.
“Red,” you said, your uneasiness evident. His movements paused. “Red, sir.”
You heard him hum, satisfied. “Good.”
Your heart rate increased as his footsteps grew closer and you heard him tap something against his leg. You peeked around your legs and your breath caught.
“It’s been awhile so here’s a reminder: the safe word is only to be used if absolutely necessary; when you physically or mentally can’t take it anymore. Not because you’re nervous or scared. Not simply because it hurts. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” You made sure not to forget that time. His taking a moment to clarify left you shaking slightly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment. He didn’t try to assuage your nerves either.
He held the crop at his side while he ran a hand over your ass. “Soft,” he said, his voice anything but. The crop smoothed over your ass before tapping lightly against your skin. When he brushed it over your exposed pussy, you forced yourself to hold back a whimper. “I’ve been nice. More than nice. And you’ve taken advantage.”
The crop came down on your ass and you flinched. It was only a sting–one that morphed into pleasure quickly.
“I’ve been patient, letting you speak to me in a way that would usually have you bent over the table in less than a second.”
It came down on the other cheek, harder. You released a small sigh at the sensation.
“It’s my fault really, for encouraging it. For letting you get away with it.” His voice told you that he didn’t really believe that. “Or maybe it’s your fault for continuing the behavior, knowing I would disapprove, knowing you were being disobedient and doing it anyway.”
The clear disapproval in his voice made your chest ache and cheeks heat in embarrassment.
Another swat to your ass–and then another, quick on the other cheek. Hard. Your body scooted forward involuntarily and you whimpered. Harry grabbed you and held you in place. “Don’t move.” The growl in his voice sent heat straight to your core.
“This fight for control, it needs to stop. I don’t know where it’s come from because you refuse to talk–another rule broken–but it’s got to end. You need to understand your place, sub.”
Your cheeks flamed. He hadn’t called you that since the early days of your relationship when you tested his boundaries, when the two of you were still getting used to one another and your dynamic. You didn’t like the typical nicknames like pet, or kitten. They made you feel inhuman and a little gross, so Harry tended to call you ‘love’ even when he was angry, when you did something wrong, or were being punished. It was never about what he said, but the way he said it–the fact that he had pulled that out meant you were absolutely fucked.
He swatted your ass a few times in succession, giving you no time to recover between. The stinging sent shocks straight to your clit. You knew you were wet. You could feel it drip through your folds.
“I won’t stand for the disrespect any longer. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Your voice wavered. You wondered if his approval showed on his face, but you were still folded over.
His fingers grazed over the sensitive skin of your ass and you inhaled. They trailed down between your cheeks and circled your clit once. You moaned. His fingers moved up and he pushed one slowly inside of you. Pleasure always came after the punishment–so was it over? Was that it? That was nothing, thank–
“Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much, huh, sub? Not much of a punishment if you’re soaked but not begging. Right?”
You took a deep, shaky breath.
“Ah!” You shrieked when the crop made contact with the sensitive spot where your ass met your thighs.
“When I ask you a question, you answer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stand up.”
When you stood, all the blood rushed back down from your head and you stumbled. Harry caught you easily with a hand on your arm. Once you recovered, he dropped his hand.
“On the bed on your stomach. Ass up, knees apart.”
You kept your eyes down and didn’t move. Nerves filled your chest. It had been so long.
Harry stepped in front of you and tilted your chin up towards him, but you kept your eyes down, not wanting to disobey again.
“Look at me.” When you lifted your eyes, there was a slight smile pulling at his cheek. Approval. Your shoulders relaxed and a small amount of pride swelled in you. “Good girl.” He brushed his thumb over your lips. “It’s gonna hurt. It’s a punishment. You remember those, right?”
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
The warmth in his eyes returned for a moment and he brushed his knuckles over your cheek. He dropped his hand. “Get on the bed, sub.”
The check-in was over and your all demanding dom was back.
While you got situated on the bed, Harry returned to the wardrobe. You couldn’t see what he was getting, but what you heard lit your nerves on fire. It wasn’t the jingling of the restraints, but his knuckles against the paddle that sent your heart into your throat.
You liked mild pain. Last time he used the paddle, it was a little more than mild. The last time–your skin paled when you remembered. The last time he had used it was during a punishment.
“Hands above your head,” He said as he made his way to stand to the side of the bed.
Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it reverberating off your ribcage, but you obeyed–slowly. He took cuffs from the bedside table and secured them onto your wrists. The coolness of the leather sent a reminder of want straight down to the spot between your thighs. Harry’s fingers brushed over yours unintentionally as he attached the cuffs to one another, and then to one of the restraints attached to the headboard, and you stopped yourself from reaching for him.
Roughly, he pulled you back by your hips until you couldn’t move your arms from where they were above you. Silently, he looped similar cuffs around your ankles and attached them to the restraints at each corner of the bed. There was nowhere for you to go.
In a small moment of panic, you attempted to tug at the restraint keeping your hands above your head, and felt the heat of fear in your cheeks. When Harry heard your small whimper, he came to the side of the bed, placed one big hand over your cuffed wrists and the other on the small of your back, warm and reassuring. Immediately, you felt your heart rate slow.
“Relax. It’s okay.” He paused while you took a deep breath, but your face was still hot. “Do you trust me?” He asked with a voice full of caring.
Of course you did. Harry wouldn’t ever give you more than he knew you could handle; he would never actually make you feel unsafe, or the kind of fear that wasn’t linked to pleasure and excitement.
Speaking of which, as he rubbed the spot on your back, you felt the heat pool at your core.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He smiled before disappearing from your view.
From somewhere behind you, he knocked his knuckles on the paddle once more, almost as a warning.
When it came down the first time, it was nothing more than a sting–one that, you admitted, you quite liked. The next few continued like that, the stings turning into a warmth that had you on the verge of moaning.
Once you finally let one slip, the next spank came down harder. You flinched and sucked in a breath each time it came down.
“Does that hurt?”
You whimpered in response.
You attempted to move forward, away from the paddle, when it came down even harder across both of your cheeks.
“Does that hurt, sub?” His voice was low, hard.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Do you like being punished?”
“No, sir.”
Your ass stung--a burning kind of sting that would have you wincing until tomorrow. And yet, you felt your arousal drip down your leg.
Suddenly, Harry’s fingers were at your core, swirling in the slickness that coated your folds.
“Lying again, are we?”
“No, sir.” And you weren’t lying. You didn’t like being punished, who did? It wasn’t your fault that your body enjoyed the pain, the stinging.
He sighed. “I was going to be nice and only go for ten more, but bad girls don’t get ‘nice’.” He swiped his thumb over your clit and you moaned. When he pulled his hand away, you tried to push yourself towards him, but the goddamned restraints wouldn’t allow it.
“Ah!” You cried when the paddle came down so hard that it more than stung. The pain thudded through your muscles. Twenty of that? The worry prickled over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The harsh pain faded, leaving a stinging that you could handle.
“Count them.”
Whack
“One.”
Another.
“Two.”
Another.
You whimpered. “Three.”
By ten, your voice was shaking and your eyes had begun to water. He wasn’t feeling very accommodating anymore, which was fair considering how far you had pushed him and the rules, and wasn’t giving you a second to recover. Wasn’t giving the sharp pain a chance to dull before coming down again.
By fifteen, you were tensing in preparation for each spank and your ass felt like it was on fire. The heat extended down to your clit, where it ached with need. Each hit sent a vibration straight past your core and to your clit, which was swollen and aching to be touched. You hadn’t let a tear fall yet, but you weren’t sure you could hold them back for much longer.
Your grip on the restraint was tight, your knuckles clenched in desperate need of something to hold onto.
Whack
“E-eighteen.”
Again.
“N-nineteen.”
Again.
“T-twenty.”
You released a breath of relief. It hurt. It really fucking hurt, but you were keenly aware of how turned on you were, at the ache between your legs.
Harry rubbed his hands over your skin and you flinched. “S’okay,” he said. You whimpered and he kissed the small of your back.
He released your ankles from the restraints and then did the same with your wrists, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still racing, even as your body untensed. Your muscles felt sore from useless tugging at the restraints as you blinked the tears away.
Harry walked around the bed and sat down.
“Come,” Harry’s voice was low, demanding, as he sat on the edge of the bed with his hands gripping the end of the mattress.
Your body immediately tensed again.
When you didn’t move, he sighed, annoyed. “Fucking hell.” He twisted, gripped your hips and pulled you over his lap like a rag doll. If you weren’t so worried about what was coming next, you would’ve enjoyed his manhandling a little more. Not to say that you didn’t enjoy it at all.
He positioned you so that your ass was directly over his lap, where you could feel his erection dig into your hip through his dress pants. Your upper body hung off one side of his lap, and your legs hung off the other. He ran his hands over your skin and you began to squirm.
“When are you going to learn.” It wasn’t a question and so you kept your mouth shut. He shifted you so that you were folded over his left thigh. He lifted his right leg and placed it over your legs so you could kick them or wriggle off his lap. He swiped his tie from where he discarded it on the nightstand and expertly twisted it around your wrists before tying it to the nightstand’s leg. When he sat up, he laid an arm across your shoulders.
Once again, he had rendered you immobile. And once again, heat seared through you at the idea of it–the way it always did. You had been trying to hold on to your control, but this is what you liked. You liked being commanded, ordered around, at Harry’s will and mercy. You ached at the idea of relinquishing it all and letting him do whatever he wanted. Take you however he wanted. And you needed this, you thought. After all the stress and frustration, you needed to just let go.
You relaxed against him and his cock twitched against your leg. He ran his hand over your skin that still burned and a soft whimper escaped you.
“Talk to me.” a hint of softness seeped into his voice. “What’s going on with you lately? What’s this need to disrespect and disobey?”
“Nothing.”
You cried out when his hand landed harshly on what was starting to feel like bruising skin.
“Why are you still trying to lie to me?” He ground out.
You didn’t know. There was no reason to, but you were stubborn. You always had been.
When you didn’t say anything, he pushed a finger inside your dripping center. A long, low moan escaped your lips. He moved it in and out of you at an agonizing pace.
When he pulled his finger out, you squirmed in protest.
“Stop.” You stilled. “If you want more, you’ll talk.”
You took a deep breath. “I’m just stressed out.” You flinched slightly as he dragged his nails over your ass. “And frustrated.”
“With me?”
“No, sir.”
“With work?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I told you to quit.”
Immediately, you went rigid and you knew he could feel your back tense beneath him. He massaged his fingers into your muscles. “See, there. What happened just then?”
“Nothing.”
You cursed when his hand came down. Right after, his fingers moved to your clit and you moaned while trying to push yourself further into his hand, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“You want a reward, huh? Don’t know what makes you think you deserve it.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“If you’re sorry, you’ll talk. So talk.”
He took his fingers away and you whined. He was going to hold you there until you gave him what he wanted, until you let him have all your control.
“Stop being stubborn, sub.”
“I don’t like when you call me that.”
Another swat to your ass. And fuck it burned. Tears sprang to your eyes.
“I’ll stop once you learn your place. Once you’ve earned back my affection.”
Your heart sank and your cheeks heated in shame. After two deep breaths, your body relaxed.
“I feel like–I feel like I have no power at work.” His fingers traced up and down your slit. “I get ordered around all day; blamed and chastised for stuff that isn’t my fault. I spend my whole day feeling degraded and out of control.”
“When you’re used to being your own boss,” he said in understanding. He traced his fingers over the hood of your clit, refusing to make actual contact and you whined in anticipation. “Go on.” The timbre in his voice was back.
“And you telling me to just quit–” He squeezed your clit between his fingers as a warning to lose the attitude. You adjusted your tone. “I want to quit and I know I need to, but I can’t. And when you make it out to be so easy, it makes me mad.” He trailed his fingers through your folds, running them over your labia, spreading your arousal until every piece of you was wet. You gave a shuddering moan. “It felt so defeating–giving up all my control after a day of having it just taken from me.”
“It is easy. If you’d just let me take care of you.” The frustration in his voice was clear.
“I-I can’t.”
“You can, you’re just being stubborn.” He sighed, releasing some of the hardness from his voice. “Bottling up on all that stress and frustration hasn’t done you any good, has it?”
“No, sir.”
“I could’ve been helping you get rid of it, let it go.”
“But–”
He dipped his fingers into you. “You’ve got to let it go, love.” Your chest warmed at the pet name. “Just let me take care of you.”
You attempted, again, to push yourself into his hand when he brushed his knuckles over your clit.
“If you want to come, love, you’re gonna have to relinquish control. You’re gonna have to let me take care of you.”
You moaned in frustration as his fingers ghosted over you.
“Please.” He pinched you again. “Please, sir,” you corrected.
“Let me take care of you.” His voice was soft. “Will you let me take care of you?”
When you whimpered in agony, he shoved two fingers deep inside of you–and pulled them out just as quick. Your breathing had sped up and your nipples hardened as they brushed against the fabric of his pants.
“Will you let me?”
Fuck, you couldn’t take it anymore–and he wanted to, so why wouldn’t you let him?
“Yes, s-sir.”
“Ask me.”
Of course he was going to make you ask him.
He circled around your clit, but didn’t touch it. You felt yourself begin to pant with need.
The embarrassment began to encroach on your chest but you pushed past it. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, take care of me.”
A slap to your pussy sent you reeling.
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Please, take care of me, s-sir.”
“Since you asked nicely.” The smirk was evident in his voice.
He pushed two fingers into you, curling them in the way he knew you needed. A moan broke from deep in your chest and you tried to grip onto his thigh, but the tie held your hands firmly in place. As he fingered you deeply, he leaned forward and kissed the skin of your back.
“If I untie you, will you be good?”
His fingers still moved in and out of you, and with the sounds falling from your lips, all you could do was manage a nod. Your boyfriend chuckled. He held his fingers inside of you and bent over to tug at the knot to release you. Your wrists were slightly red from writhing against the fabric and the sight of them sent a shameful spark of excitement through you.
Easily, he lifted you up and placed you so you were sitting up, your back against his chest and your ass on his lap, rubbing against his erection. He stretched one arm across your chest and placed his hand on your breast, holding you against him, while the other opened your legs, lifting each one up and draping them over his open knees.
“You’re not going to try and close your legs, are you, love?”
“No, sir.” You placed your hands behind your thighs, onto his, working to hold yourself up. Your body was tired. Even if you wanted to close your legs, you weren’t sure you had the energy.
“That’s my good girl.” You melted at his approval. He dropped his head down and nipped and kissed along your neck and shoulder while the hand that wasn’t holding you to him landed between your legs.
He traced slow circles over your clit and your head dropped back against him. You were so ready, that it didn’t take much for the tightening in the pit of your stomach to start; as it did, your moans increased and your chest began to heave. His pace was agony. When you tried to increase the pressure by lifting yourself to his fingers, he held you back.
“Please…” you breathed. “...faster.”
“No.”
You groaned and he laughed softly against your skin.
The build up was almost painful and your ass stung fresh each time it rubbed against him, but soon you saw white and a loud cry escaped you as your hips bucked against him and your chest shuttered in his hand.
“Good girl,” he whispered, holding his pace as you came down. You were swollen and shaking, each stroke of his finger bringing through a new aftershock. “You’re not done, love.” He whispered.
Before you could question him, he lifted you and laid you on the bed on your back. When you went to sit up, you were met with a glare. You lowered yourself back down and waited, legs open, for him.
He tugged you to the edge so that your toes barely touched the floor and your ass hung off the edge. Harry leaned over you and for the first time all night, brushed his lips against yours. When you whimpered, he grabbed your jaw and deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth, swirling it over yours. He was warm and still tasted like the wine the two of you drank with dinner. Your body reignited, your nipples rising to peaks and your clit throbbing for more. He rubbed his erection against your thigh and indulged in a moan.
When you tried to loop your arms around his neck, he grabbed them and held them against the mattress. “I don’t want to restrain you again, so don’t make me.” It was a warning–one that sent a jolt straight to your core.
Not looking for a response, he pushed himself up and went to the nightstand. He pulled out a vibrating dildo and kneeled down in front of your open pussy. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the spot between your thighs and your lips, and just over your clit. Each time his breath hit you, you shuddered.
The tip of the dildo touched your core and you shivered against the cold silicone. He dipped it into you slowly, allowing you a moment to register its size, before he pushed it into you entirely. It curved, scraping against the spot inside that sent your back arching off the bed. It was big–and thick. You felt yourself stretch around it, filling you entirely.
It clicked on and your muscles tightened around it. “Oh, my god.” You gripped at the comforter beneath you as your hips began to roll.
Harry squeezed the inside of your thigh and began moving it in and out of you again. Your breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to keep your legs open, to keep your toes touching the floor.
“Does that feel good?”
“Ye–yes, s-sir.”
He kissed your clit before increasing the vibrations. You cried out as your hips bucked, your clit searching for any kind of friction. Harry hummed and you felt the slick of his tongue against you. You struggled to keep your hips down as pleasure rolled through you, hot and intense.
“Oh, my god.” Your hips began to buck–and suddenly you were empty. Cool air replaced Harry’s tongue. You whimpered and lifted your head. “Wha-”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to come, did I, love?” His voice was thick, his pupils blown out in desire.
“N-no. I’m sorry, sir.”
Without warning, the vibrator was inside you again, pushing against your walls, while Harry flicked his tongue quickly over your bud. Your grip on the comforter was deadly and your chest heaved as you attempted to stave off your orgasm.
It continued to build and moans slipped through your lips unallowed.
“Sir…” You groaned.
“Not yet.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t.”
A sweat broke out across your forehead and dampened your chest. You tried to focus on anything other than the way Harry’s tongue lapped at your clit and how well the dildo filled you. But it was hard. You could feel yourself losing control.
Harry nipped at your clit in warning, but you were so far gone it didn’t hurt, only added to your pleasure.
He was holding out, but you weren’t sure for what. He had already punished you–what more did he want?
Relief filled you when you realized: he wanted you to beg. He wanted you to give up control, to beg him to help you come undone.
“Sir, p-please.”
He ignored you.
“Please, can I come.”
He hummed against you.
“Please–fuck–please, can you help me come…”
He kissed your clit. “Go ahead, love.”
You relaxed and let your orgasm rip through your body. The pleasure was so good it was blinding. Your cries mixed with curses and you had the comforter balled so tightly in your fists you were surprised it didn’t tear.
After its peak, you had a moment of contentment before searing pleasure sent your skin on fire. He had upped the vibrations–and not just inside you, but against your clit. It seemed he had been hiding the vibrators rabbit attachment from you, saving it to send you over the edge one last time.
He rocked the dildo inside of you, hitting your g-spot while the points of the rabbit pressed against your already swollen clit. He reached his free hand up and pinched your already erect nipples, while kissing your hips and mound.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your skin. “Look at me.”
You opened your eyes and lifted your head. Teetering on the verge of coming undone for the third time, he lessened the vibrations and came to lay next to you on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.
He started moving the dildo inside you and bent down to give you a hard kiss.
“You need to let go. Stop fighting it.”
“I’m n–” Your argument died in your throat when you realized how tense your body was. You tried to relax, but it was too much. It would be too much. You were sore and swollen and so sensitive that a few tears had already slipped down your face.
He dipped down and rubbed his nose against your cheek. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered.
You looked at him and saw only tenderness and love. “Yes, sir.”
He changed the vibrator’s setting once more and you cried out.
“Keep your legs open,” he commanded while you writhed against the bed and he watched you.
He licked at your now tender nipples.
Too much. Too much. Too much.
You wanted to please him–and you wanted the release.
You breathed through the unbearable pleasure and the second your body relaxed, an orgasm unlike any other tore through your body. You let out a scream as Harry rocked the dildo against your g-spot and continued his assault on your nipples with his tongue.
Your cries grew hoarse as he forced you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm with the vibrations set to high and your body shook with the aftershocks as your muscles tightened around the toy still inside you.
He pulled it out and kissed you softly, as your body continued to shake with the aftermath. He wiped tears from your cheeks that you hadn’t even realized had fallen and pulled you tightly into his chest. Your breathing was ragged as he ran his hands over your back. When he brushed his hands over your ass you flinched.
“That might hurt for a bit,” he whispered. You cuddled closer and he kissed the top of your head.
When he started to move, you whimpered. He sat up and pulled you with him. You groaned in protest and scratched down your back. “Just moving us under the blanket, love.”
As he settled against the pillows with you between his legs and your head on his chest, the relief pooled in your chest. The stress was gone, as well as the frustration.
Then, just as quickly, an emptiness moved in–an embarrassment at the fact that you had been punished. This always happened afterwards and you hated it every time.
When he heard you sniffle, he tilted up your chin to look at him.
“Oh, poor baby.” He said when he saw the tears in your eyes. He hugged you tighter and you burrowed into him, though it was impossible for you to get any closer. “I’m sorry I had to do that. I know you’re not a fan of the paddle.” He rubbed his hand up and down your arm.
“It’s okay. I mean, honestly, I probably should’ve been punished weeks ago.”
Harry’s chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “That’s exactly right.”
“I’m sorry, sir. For being mean.”
“It’s not about meanness. It’s about disrespect, love–disobedience. You know how this works.”
“I know–”
He pinched her side. “Don’t interrupt. It’s unnecessary, so it’s willful. All I ever ask is that you talk to me.”
You looked up at him, asking for permission. He smiled and your heart swelled.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry for being disrespectful,”
“S’okay. I think you’ve learned your lesson” Desire flashed in his eyes and suddenly you were reminded of his still very hard cock pressed against your back.
“Oh–do you want–”
He smiled and shook his head before guiding your head back to his chest. “Not tonight. Sweet of you to think of me.”
Your body relaxed further into him. “My butt hurts.”
You felt his lips against your hair. “Proud of you for taking it so well. You did a good job, love.”
Warmth filled you, knowing you had pleased him. “Thank you, sir.”
The comforter shifted off your shoulder and you shivered.
“How about a warm bath–for the two of us? How does that sound?”
You hummed your approval.
He nuzzled your cheek with his nose. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
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gucciwins · 1 year
Text
it’s a date...maybe 
Word count: 1975
A/N: hi!!! so the talk show blurb got a bit of love and some of you wanted a part two so here it is. I hope you like it, please let me know if you do. it would mean so much to me. happy reading, amores!
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You were nervous.
Your time in London will be limited for now. There were interviews you had to do, the job of promoting was never short. Having a new film debuting soon and doing interviews with the cast of The White Lotus, your schedule was booked and busy that does not mean you didn’t have time for coffee.
After the surprise facetime call on Jimmy Fallon with Harry Styles, they stayed in communication. We sent a few texts back and forth until Harry confessed he felt he wasn’t the best at texting, so we resorted to talking on the phone. It felt juvenile, but you liked the intimacy it brought you. Harry’s voice was soothing, and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. When there were moments of silence, you’d ask him another question because you loved hearing him talk. Harry seemed to catch on after a bit.
“Not that I don’t like telling you about myself, but I want to hear from you,” he told her over facetime, having finished a story about the secret present they got his mum, and he, of course, spoiled minutes before she could open the gift.
You look away bashfully from the screen, “I like your voice,” you confess. “I find it soothing, could listen to you all day.”
Harry giggles, “that’s a relief, means I’m on the right career path.”
You chuckle. He was so smooth; it all seemed to come easy to Harry. When Harry asked you a question, your mind went blank because he still made you nervous. You’re not sure if you had that effect on him. It didn’t seem so.
Talking on the phone was less intimidating than meeting in person. Harry had proposed a date to meet for coffee in a shop near his house. Dinner was what he had initially proposed, but it seemed your schedules were booked in the evenings. So, Harry proposed coffee and promised it wasn’t one of those chain coffee shops and that there would be good coffee and pastries.
He hadn’t called it a date, but why did it feel like one. He simply wanted to meet you, that is all. You were mutual fans of each other and would be getting coffee, that simple. Yet, your hands could not stop sweating. Having lived in London for a few years, you were thankful you listened to your mom when she said to get your license. It made getting around from place to place more accessible and allowed you not to rely on anyone.
Walking into the coffee shop, you walked in and instantly relaxed. Only two people were inside the shop, not counting the employees; one was Harry. He was sitting at a corner table with a view of the garden of flowers the shop had out front. He was quick to stand up when he realized you had walked in.
“Y/N, hi.” He greeted you and raised his hand for you to shake while you opened your arms for a hug. You both froze for a second, and he laughed when he saw the panic on your face.
“I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.” You run a hand down your face, embarrassed, hoping the ground would open up and swallow you. “My mom’s a hugger, and it seems I am too.”
“I could go for a hug,” Harry answered generously.
You allowed yourself to meet his eye and saw he was telling the truth. He opens his arms for you to walk into, and after double-checking, you wrap your arms around his waist while his hands settle on your back. It’s a warm embrace, and you quickly find yourself sinking into him. You aren’t sure how long the hug lasts, but you break it when you feel you’ve invaded his space for too long.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Harry.” You tell him, taking a seat across from him.
Harry grins, and you melt in your seat when you get a flash of his dimple. He had a perfect smile, and it made you wonder what his lips could possibly taste like. You pushed away those thoughts because here you were, meeting Harry for the first time, and were thinking of kissing him.
“You as well, Y/N. It has been lovely getting to know you,” he shares.
You nod in agreement, “it’s all thanks to you for saying yes to surprise me.”
Harry scratched his eyebrow, and it’s then you noticed a red tint take over his face. He was blushing. “To be honest, I did it hoping to meet you.”
You bite back a smile. Harry has you feeling like a teenage girl wanting to squeal at his every word. “Well, it seems you succeeded.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.”
“Think introductions were more important.”
He taps his fingers against the table, his rings glimmering through the bit of sunshine peeking in. “Do you trust me to choose a drink for you?”
“Hmm…” you ponder it for a second. “Yeah, I trust you.”
Harry gets up, promising he’ll be a few minutes. You take the time to get a look at him. He’s dressed casually. In laid-back ripped jeans, a white top, and a pale yellow cardigan. His large green jacket hanging off the back of his chair. You see him chat with the barista, sharing a shy grin, waving goodbye, and leaving a tip in the half-full tip jar.
“Madam, this is for you,” he places a cup in front of you and one for him. Then places two pastries on the table, a cranberry score and a brownie. “Both treats are vegan. Hope that’s okay.”
You thank Harry as he settles back down across from you. You hide a smile as you see Harry observing you, taking a sip of the coffee he got for you. You hum in appreciation. It’s perfect, exactly how you take it. He seemed to remember what you liked when you mentioned having coffee with a friend, it was one of your earliest conversations.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, Harry. How much do I owe you?”
Harry waves you off, “my treat.”
You raise your coffee as a cheers to Harry. “Thank you.”
You don’t let the fact that he paid for coffee go to your head. You’ve treated your friends to coffee and never considered it a date. It’s fine you’ll enjoy coffee with Harry, and then both go your separate ways.
Harry offers you the first bite of the brownie, and you let out a quiet moan at the taste filling your mouth. You feel your face flush, knowing that Harry heard you, his cheeks now red as he takes a piece of the scone. Before you can apologize, Harry asks how your stay in London has been and where you’re planning to go next.
Conversation with him flows effortlessly. It is as if you were reuniting with an old friend and not meeting for the first time. Harry told you how close he is to his mother and sister and how he doesn’t go home as much as he wishes but makes sure to call them once a day. He shared about his growing car collection. You share about having an older brother, and Harry laughs, saying you both can relate to being the younger sibling. You go on to tell him about the first time you got a tattoo, drunk with your best friend but don’t dare tell him the placement, just that the morning after was something you laughed at for the longest time.
Being with Harry is a nice reminder that you can be the biggest fan of someone and sometimes forget to see them as a person or expect something from them. Harry, when he’s on stage, he’s this charismatic, sexy rockstar that has you dying for a moment with them, but that’s Harry Styles. The Harry sitting in front of you is shy, kind, and beautiful. He gives you his undivided attention, always staring into your eyes. It’s the safest place you could be. You’re thankful he reached out to give you a chance to get to know him.
You don’t know much he knows about you or if he’s read tabloids on you. The fact that you’re constantly seen going out with people from men to women but never confirm anything because most times it’s you with a friend or a family member, but the tabloids don’t care. They sell the story they want, not the truth. The fact is that you don’t play into tabloids. You live your authentic life because it’s tiring hiding from cameras all the time. You rather keep being yourself every day because you’re already someone else when you’re in front of a camera acting.
“You’re really funny, Harry,” you tell him after sobering up from the joke he just told.
Harry’s grin widens, “wish you could tell my sister that.”
“Call her up, tell her right now,” you joke.
He giggles, shaking his head. His phone rings signs that he just received a text message, and it’s the first time he glances at his phone and catches a look at the time. He sighs. It’s clear the bubble the two of you were in has popped, and you now have to go back into the world.
“I had the loveliest time with you, Y/N. Don’t think I’ve spent two hours in a coffee shop since my time in Japan.” He shares as you both get up and put your coats on. The workers had stopped earlier and cleared your table.
“Oh, Japan,” you raise an eyebrow in question. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”
Harry blushes, but you’re not sure why he only nods, promising he will. You walk in front of him, Harry right behind you. His hand hovers over the small of your back, and you find it sweet that he’s considerate enough to help but respect boundaries. You give the workers a quick goodbye, and Harry follows you to your car.
He stands in front of you with his hands tucked in his pocket as you both wait for one of you to begin the goodbye.
“I had a nice time with you as well, Harry.” You remembered you didn’t repeat the sentiment inside, too intrigued by Japan.
“It was a nice first date, I think,” his face is quick to flush red, but his eyes remain locked on yours.
He was smooth.
Thank goodness you’re an actress because you’re able to hide the shock of him calling your time together a date. You take a step closer to Harry and give him a sweet smile, “it was really nice,” you promise him.
“I hope we can do a second date before you leave at the end of the week.”
You think about it for a second, not wanting to seem eager, but know you fail when Harry catches the smile that bloomed on your face. “I’d like that.”
“We could do dinner?” He suggests.
“Are you cooking?”
Harry laughs; he runs his hand down your arm until he reaches your fingers he gives you a light squeeze. “If that’s what you’d like.”
“I could bring dessert,” you offer. “Oh, and wine.”
“Can’t forget the wine.”
Harry leaned in, giving you a kiss on your cheek. You felt warm inside, god he was smooth. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promises.
You hum in acknowledgment, still lost in the haze of his lingering kiss.
“Drive safe, Y/N darling.”
“Have a nice walk home, Harry.”
They walk away from each other with large smiles on their faces. They’re so lost in their heads they fail to notice the paparazzi snapping photos of them from across the street.
It seemed they’d have something else to navigate together.
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feel free to send me a message of what you loved, what was your favorite part and if you want to see more of them 💜
569 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 2 years
Text
I remember that fight, 2:30 am
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom worries about your relationship when he realizes you never fight
Masterlist
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“Look at this picture she just sent me.” Tom smiled proudly as he showed his phone to Harrison. Harrison looked over and saw a picture you had texted Tom of you and Tessa in your bed. “We can’t wait for you to come home” was written under the picture.
“I hate you.” Harrison scoffed and looked away.
“You’re just jealous.” Tom sighed happily as he went to text you back.
“Yeah. I am jealous. You have the most unrealistically perfect relationship any of us have ever seen and insist on rubbing it in our faces on a daily basis.” Harrison said with a roll of his eyes.
“More like hourly basis.” Harry added.
“I can’t help it.” Tom shrugged. “I’m in love.”
“We know.” Tuwaine mumbled under his breath.
“I guess I can’t even blame him. I’d probably be the same way if I fell in love.” Harry said as he looked around at the group.
“Really? You haven’t been in love before?” Tuwaine asked in surprised.
“Never. Not even close.” Harry shrugged. “I never date a girl long enough to fall in love. I guess I have pretty high standards.”
“I don’t. My dick has led me places I wouldn’t even go with a gun.” Tuwaine said, making all the boys roll their eyes.
“Oh God.” Harrison chuckled and covered his face. Tuwaine smiled proudly at the reaction he got until he noticed Sam wasn’t laughing.
“What’s wrong with you? That was hilarious and you didn’t even crack a smile. You’ve been quiet all night.” Tuwaine asked as he nudged Sam.
“Sorry guys. I’m just a little distracted. I think Chrissy and I broke up. We had a huge fight last night.” Sam frowned and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You guys are great together.” Harry assured his brother.
“I don’t know about this time. It was really bad. Like really bad.” Sam sighed.
“I’m sure it wasn’t bad enough for a breakup.” Tom tried to comfort him.
“I don’t know. You know when you have one of those huge blowout fights that come out of nowhere?” Sam asked sadly.
“Not really.” Tom shrugged.
“Yes you do. It’s like when you say one thing that’s kinda uncalled for and she has a comeback that pisses you off and then you get smart with her and just starting bringing up shit that has nothing to do with the original fight.”
“Yep.” Harrison nodded. “And then you forget what the fight was even about because you’re way more focused on winning the fight then actually listening to her. You know those fights.”
“No.” Tom realized. “I don’t know those fights.”
“Tom, come on. It’s just us. You can be real with us.” Harrison assured him.
“I am being real.” Tom insisted. “We don’t fight like that.”
“You’ve had to have one of those fights that makes you want to break up and start over with someone else until you’ve calmed down and you’re like “oh wait, I love her. I’m lost without her”. And then you beg for forgiveness because being right isn’t worth losing her.”
“We don’t fight like that.” Tom shook his head. “We don’t really fight at all.”
“Ever?” Tuwaine asked skeptically.
“No. Never.”
“Come on. All couples fight.” Sam insisted.
“Not us. I value her opinion, even if it’s different from mine. I listen to what she has to say and she does the same for me. No fights break out when you know how to communicate.” Tom said with a proud shrug. He thought he would impress the boys, but instead, everyone looked at each other and laughed.
“What? What’s funny?” Tom wondered.
“Tom, it doesn’t matter how well you communicate. Fights are always gonna happen. They cannot be avoided.” Harrison told him.
“Not necessarily.” Tom shrugged.
“Yes necessarily.” Harrison insisted. “Because sometimes, you just need to yell. You just need to disagree and scream at someone. And sometimes you’re actually mad at your significant other and sometimes, they just happened to be there when you needed to let out some steam. It happens. Then you apologize and get over it. But it still happened.”
“Sometimes you don’t apologize. And then they hold on to it. And then they start to hate you.” Harry said with a grimace.
“Yep. Girls are really good at remembering things because they used to gather berries in caveman time. It’s in the DNA. They can pin pint every thing you’ve ever done wrong and every time you didn’t apologize. It’s scary how intelligent they are.” Tuwaine added.
“Tell me about it.” Sam sighed.
“Maybe that’s your girlfriends, but Y/n is different.” Tom told them. “She’s intelligent but she doesn’t use it against me. We just don’t fight.”
“There is no way you and Y/n don’t fight. All couples fight.” Harry insisted.
“Not us. I guess we’re just perfect.” Tom said with another smug expression. Everyone laughed again and Tom’s smile dropped.
“What? What is your problem this time?” Tom groaned.
“Tom, if you’re not fighting, something is wrong.” Tuwaine told him.
“What? Nothings wrong. Why would you think that?” Tom asked his friends.
“Because no two people, no matter how much they love each other, get along 100% of the time. If you’re not fighting, something is missing.” Harry said, and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Like what?” Tom began to worry.
“Maybe she doesn’t pick fights because she doesn’t see the point.” Sam shrugged.
“Yeah. Maybe she says everything is okay when it really isn’t because she doesn’t think a fight is worth it.” Tuwaine agreed. Tom thought about what they said and slowly put things together.
“You mean… she doesn’t think I’m worth it, don’t you?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Harry said with a sympathetic smile.
“Oh.” Tom said and looked down at the floor. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as all the boys looked at each other.
“You know what I was thinking about the other day? The apartment from ICarly. It was huge and had multiple floors, including a huge studio. It was right across the hallway from Freddie’s apartment but I think his was just one floor. How did Spencer, a freelance artist, afford such a big place?” Harry asked to change the subject. All the boys started talking about how they afforded it while Tom continued to stare at the floor, deep in thought.
Around 2 am, Tom pulled into his driveway and went inside his house. You were sitting on the couch with Tessa on your lap and an old romantic comedy on the TV. Tom stood in the doorway for a minute and watched you, getting a sad feeling in his chest. It was a Friday night and you were watching a romantic movie alone while he went out with his friends. One of you had to be home to watch Tessa and you had offered to do it so that Tom could have a night out. It made him sad to think of you putting on the movie and watching it by yourself with no one to laugh along with. It wasn’t the first time you stayed home with the dog so that Tom could stay out all night either. It was a common occurrence but Tom couldn’t remember if he had ever thanked you for doing that. He knew you should be pissed off at him, but somehow weren’t.
“Hey.” Tom said as he joined you on the couch. He kissed you hello before kissing Tessa some scratches behind the ear.
“Hey. How was it?” You asked as you hit pause on your movie.
“It was good. It’s always nice to see them.” Tom said as he noticed the half eaten bowl of popcorn on the table. If he had stayed home with you, the bowl would’ve been empty because you would’ve had someone to share it with. Instead, he had left you there all alone, making his guilt build.
“Sorry I didn’t text you about how late I’d be.” He said as he tore his eyes away from the bowl.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you had fun.”
“I did. But still. I should’ve been more considerate and told you when to expect me home so you weren’t sitting up waiting for me all night.“ Tom said as he carefully watched your reaction to see if you were upset.
“I don’t mind waiting up. I just like to know you made it home safe.”
“Well thank you. And thank you for watching Tessa too. I really appreciate it.” Tom said before pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.
“Aw. You’re welcome.” You smiled and rested your head on his chest. Tom rested his head on top of yours as another sinking feeling settled in his stomach. You seemed so happy to hear him say he appreciated you, which made him realize how little he said that. He picked the remote off your lap and hit play on the movie so that you could finish it together.
The next day, Tom was playing video games on the couch while you hastily gathered your things and threw them into your bag.
“I’m running super late. Can you put the dishwasher on after you eat?” You asked as you frantically buttoned your coat.
“Yeah. Sure.” Tom replied without looking up from his screen.
“Thanks. And can you take the chicken out if the freezer around 5? It should be defrosted by the time I get home.”
“No problem.”
“You’re the best. Bye. Love you.“ You kissed Tom’s head before running out of the house.
“Love you.” He called back and went back to his game.
A few hours later, Tom heard the front door open. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch as he fiddled with the buttons on his controller.
“Hi honey. I’m home.” You said as you walked over to the couch to kiss Tom hello.
“Hi. How was work?” Tom asked you.
“I’ve had better days. I’m just happy to be home. It was a long day.” You sighed and set your bag down. You opened the dishwasher to get out some plates and saw that it was exactly the way you left it that morning.
“Oh.” You said and shut the door.
“What?” Tom wondered.
“You didn’t run the dishwasher?” You asked him with a disappointment smile.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” Tom realized as he got off the couch.
“It’s okay. I’ll run it now. We can just use bowls for dinner.” You sighed and got some bowls out of the cabinet.
“Right…..Dinner.” Tom gulped and looked at the empty counter top.
“You didn’t take the chicken out, did you?” You asked when you heard his tone.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my game. We can take it out now.” Tom tried to fix his mistake and got the chicken out of the freezer.
“Yeah. We can. But it’s not defrosted so it’s not really gonna do much.”
“I’m sorry.” Tom realized you were right and put the chicken back.
“Yeah. You said that.” You sighed and rubbed your tired eyes. Tom nervously chewed his lip as he looked at you, sure that you were gonna yell this time.
“It’s fine. I probably would’ve forgotten too. I should’ve written it down for you.” You said after a minute.
“No. It’s my fault.” Tom insisted. “I should’ve done what you asked me to do.”
“We can just order Chinese food or something.” You shrugged and pulled your phone out to place the order.
“Are you mad?”
“No. I’m not mad.” You replied, making Tom frown. He knew you should be mad and was worried that you weren’t. He thought about the conversation he had with his friends the day before and gulped.
“Are you sure? It’s okay if you are. You can yell at me. I can take it.”
“I’m not gonna yell at you.” You laughed like that was silly to suggest.
“But you had a long day and you’re exhausted and you had to come home to see that I didn’t do any of the things you asked me to do because I was sitting on my ass playing video games all day.” Tom said, growing slightly frustrated now over that fact that you weren’t frustrated.
“It’s fine, Tom. I’m too tired to cook anyway. It’s actually better that we’re ordering food.”
“Are you sure you’re not mad?” Tom asked skeptically, almost hoping you’d say yes.
“I’m sure. Besides, we have that dinner with my parents on Friday. The restaurant is literally known for the chicken. We don’t want to get sick of eating chicken before the dinner.”
“Okay. You’re right.” Tom nodded and sat back down. He watched as you started the dishwasher and let out a little sigh. If you were angry over this, his worried his friends might be right about you not thinking he was worth it.
Come Thursday, Tom had to go to set for a reshoot. He promised you he’d be back in time for dinner with your parents and had every intention of keeping his promise. But when he got home early Saturday morning and found you sitting alone at the kitchen table, he realized he fucked up.
“Oh my God. The dinner. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” Tom covered his mouth his mouth with his hand.
“I know.” You said without looking up at him.
“How was it? Were your parents mad?” Tom asked as he slid into the seat across from you.
“No. I told them you were sick.”
“Oh. Okay.” Tom nodded and watched your face carefully for a reaction. You finally looked up at him and sucked in a sharp breath before letting out a frustrated laugh.
“You know, this dinner was really important to me. I’ve been talking about it all week. I put it on the calendar with a huge circle around it. And I put a reminder on your phone. You promised me you wouldn’t miss it. You promised you’d get home on time. How could you forget?”
“I don’t know. I’m so so sorry. We were doing this one scene and it kept going wrong and we finally got it right but then the audio cut out and we had to do it all over again. I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you as soon as we went overtime.”
“Yeah. That would’ve been nice.” You rolled your eyes and got up from the table. This was the first time you were showing actual annoyance with Tom and he was starting ti get nervous.
“Can we reschedule? Maybe we can go out with them tomorrow.” Tom suggested in a desperate attempt to make things right.
“They leave tomorrow, Tom.” You sighed. “They were only in town for a few days. I’ve told you this.”
“Right. I’m sorry.” He said again as he watched your face. You looked at him for a minute and he thought you might scream, but you just sighed instead.
“It’s fine.“ You said and started to walk away.
“Are you mad?” Tom asked as he followed after you.
“No. I’m not mad.” You replied, making Tom stop in his tracks.
“Why not?” He asked, sounding a little annoyed. You turned around and looked at him in surprise.
“Why not?” You asked for clarification.
“Yeah. Why aren’t you mad?”
“Um, do you want me to be mad?” You asked with a confused laugh.
“Yes! I do actually!” Tom raised his voice. “I want you to be mad. I want you to yell at me. I did a really shitty thing to you and it wasn’t okay. You should be mad at me.”
“Fine, Tom. You know what? I am mad at you.”
“Then why aren’t you yelling at me?” Tom shouted, making your face fall.
“Why are you yelling at me? What did I do wrong?” You asked quietly.
“You didn’t know anything wrong. I’m just frustrated. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” Tom said in a softer tone as he approached you. He reached out to touch you but you took a step back.
“But you did.” You said as you held yourself in your arms. Tom noticed your behavior and stepped back to give you space.
“Because you never do.” Tom said quietly. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we never fight?”
“We never fight because I don’t want to us fight. I could scream at you every time you do something shitty, but I don’t want to do that. I let it go specifically for the sake of avoiding a fight.”
“But that’s not healthy. You can’t just repress your feelings every time I piss you off. You need to let that out. You need to start a fight.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t want to fight.” You said as you tried to walk away again. Tom followed after you, not ready to drop the topic yet.
“Why not?” Tom shouted. “Why don’t you ever want to fight?”
“Because I’m sick of fighting! I’ve been fighting my whole life! I’m over it. I’m done. I don’t want to do that anymore, okay? I don’t want to fight anyone ever again.” You shouted back, stunning Tom to silence. It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him and he didn’t know how to react. You both blinked in surprise as a silence settled in the room.
“What are you talking about?” Tom asked quietly.
“Nothing.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “Can we just drop this? Please?”
“I can’t drop this. I need to know why we never fight. Because if it’s for the reason I think it is then I need to know that right now.”
“What reason are you thinking?” You frowned and folded your arms. Tom looked at you for a second as he chewed his bottom lip.
“My friends put this idea in my head that maybe….” He trailed off and looked down at the ground.
“Maybe you don’t fight with me because you don’t think this relationship is worth fighting for.” Tom said without looking up. He held his breath as he anxiously waited for you to confirm his worse nightmares. Instead, he heard soft footsteps as you walked over to him. You placed your hands on either side of his face and lifted it up so he could look at you.
“Tommy, that’s no true. That’s not true at all.” You said in a soft voice as you rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks.
“Then why don’t you fight for us?” He asked quietly.
“Come here.” You nodded towards the couch before taking him by the hand and sitting down with him. You held on to his hand and closed your eyes as he looked at you expectantly.
“My dad used to yell a lot.” You said and slowly looked up at Tom. He gave you a gentle nod to assure you that he was ready to listen.
“He didn’t like me. He used to, at some point. But once I hit puberty, he didn’t like me anymore. Once I started having my own opinions and my own personality, he stopped liking me. I don’t really know what happened but something just changed. We used to do these “daddy daughter day” things where’d we’d spend the day together. Now I dread being alone in a room with him. I can’t talk to him. It’s like I don’t even know him. He feels like a total stranger and I literally have to struggle to make small talk. And part of me is sad because he tries to talk to me but I don’t really know what to say back. He makes an effort to start conversations but I barely say anything. I feel bad about it but I know why I do it and I can’t stop.”
“Why do you do it?” Tom asked quietly as he squeezed your hand.
“Because I resent him. I resent him so much.” You admitted as an embarrassed tear fell down your face. Tom wiped your tear with his free hand and continued to listen.
“He was always so loud. Always yelling, always picking fights, always screaming and throwing things and banging on walls. He never hit any of us but sometimes, I really thought he would. It was so easy to set him off. I never wanted to say anything as a kid because I was so scared of sending him into another yelling rage. It’s scary watching a grown man scream and punch tables and slam doors. It was scary when I was little and it’s scary now. That’s why I can’t speak to him. I hate him for scaring me my whole life. I hate him for how loud and angry he was. No matter what he does now, I will never forget what he did back then. He’s given me everything I ever needed but he was mean. He was a mean man. And I never, ever wanted to be like him. That’s why I don’t yell at you or raise my voice. I never want to scare you the way he scared me. I never want to make you feel the way he made me feel. And I never wanted you to raise your voice at me in return. That’s why I don’t pick fights or get mad at you. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to yell or scream. I don’t want to be like my parents. I resented my mom for staying with him. I resented her for allowing him to stay because I knew, even as a little kid, I knew that your partner isn’t supposed to treat you that way. You shouldn’t have to be scared in your own home. You shouldn’t have to get scolded by a grown ass man for making a decision. I hated their relationship and promised myself I would never end up like them. So I’m sorry if it bothers you that I don’t yell. I’m sorry if you want us to fight. But I can’t fight you, Tom. I don’t have any fight left.”
You sat in silence for a moment and held your breath for every second of it. You braced yourself for the goodbye, because that was all you had even known, but Tom caught you by surprise. He reached out and put his hand on your face, slowly tilting it up to look at him.
“We don’t have to fight, baby doll. Not if you don’t want to. But if I do something wrong, you need to tell me. And you can do that without raising your voice or starting a fight. But you can’t just let me get away with things for the sake of keeping the peace. Because if you keep doing that, you’re just gonna end up resenting me too.”
“I know. I know that deep down.” You sighed. “But I just don’t want to risk it. I don’t want to correct you because I don’t want you to react badly. What I do works. We don’t fight. We don’t go to bed angry. And we don’t scream at each other. It works.”
“It works for now. But it won’t work forever. What I did today, missing the dinner with your parents, that was a really shitty thing to do. It’s even worse now that I know how nervous your dad makes you. I should’ve been there.”
“Yeah. You should’ve.” You smiled sadly.
“And next time, I will be.” He promised you. “And I’m gonna start doing things the first time you ask me too. And texting you when I know I’ll be out late. I’m going to be a better boyfriend for you. I’m gonna be a better man.”
“I’d like that.” You said as your sad smile turned into a hopeful one.
“Me too.” Tom returned the smile. “And since we’re talking about things the other does, I just have one little complaint.”
“Oh, okay. What is it?”
“You leave every single cabinet-“
“Don’t start.” You immediately cut him off.
“-open and I just don’t understand it.” He continued. “I don’t understand why you can’t just close them when you’re done.”
“If I’m gonna go in there again later, why would I close it?”
“You do this with the drawers too in our bedroom. They’re all open. All the time.”
“Because I’m gonna go back in there later.”
“So close it and open it up when you need it go back in there.”
“Why would I do that when I could just leave it open?” You shrugged, making Tom rub his tired eyes.
“Oh my God. You were right. We should just keep all of this inside.” He said through a tired laugh. You laughed as well and felt the tension in the room dissipate.
“I’ll close the cabinets if it means that much to you.” You told him as you squeezed his hand.
“And I’ll kill your dad if it means that much to you.” He said in the same gentle tone.
“I would appreciate that.” You laughed, making Tom laugh as well.
“So we’re good?” He asked hopefully.
“We’re good.” You told him. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll do better.”
The next day, Tom came home late to find you on the couch with Tessa asleep in your lap. He put his hand over his mouth when he realized he went back on the promises you made just mere hours ago.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot to text you. I’m so…” Tom trailed off when he looked around the kitchen as saw multiple drawers and cabinets open. He looked at you and you gave him a sheepish smile.
“We’ll start tomorrow.” You said in unison.
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grapejuicestyless · 9 months
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What Was I Made For?
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n is a photographer realizing she is not who she had always believed she was. Harry is the one thing she can count on.
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Y/n had been made to believe that she was the shining star that led the lonely drivers home each night. Made to be the light at the end of the tunnel. The angel from grace that was sent to inflict pure joy to those around her. So she played the part.
A constantly bubbly joy to be around. Her laugh echoing through every hallway. Her smile infectious and radiant as it reflected one of what could only be described as pure happiness.
Just her being near have anyone that warmth within. Heartbeats hard and faster underneath their winter coats. Cheeks flushed and nose scrunched from fits of laughter. It was almost like she was a spell that was cast on anyone who got to close. A foggy haze that was laid over the infected eyes of the lucky soul who crossed paths with her.
That’s what had drawn Harry to her, in the first place. How her laugh carried around the store without a care for the stares burning the back of her head or the eye rolls from the grumps behind her. How her smile was sincere and her attitude polite even in the worst experiences. Her head remained held high and her respectful demeanor never dwindled under the increasing pressure laid on her shoulders to calm down.
A beauty, inside and out. A heart of gold, to be exact. It wasn’t a shock at how quickly they’d hit it off. Harry not only obsessed with her artistry within her passions for photography, but enamored by her essence as a whole. And how soon he’d fallen for her. How hard he’d fallen. The girl had not a single bad bone in her body. Not a single grudge or hatred being held within her. Love and kindness being her only reflection onto others.
And she continued to be strong and enthusiastic everyday of her life as long as she could. Never wasting that gift of innocence she was graced with.
But even the most optimistic, strong willed people reach their breaking points. And the weight becomes too much, tumbling from their shoulders to their feet. That high held chin falls into the slump of their shoulders and the ground becoming a best friend with their eyes. The smiles becoming painful and achy. Not quite reaching their eyes. The color draining from the victim as the real world crashes down around them, innocence ruined and optimism crushed.
Y/n was no exception. The girl who faced everything with a grin permanently tattooed within her smile lines nothing compared to the constant pressures and horrible truths she could not be spared from.
——————————————————————————
I loved the summer, always had, always believed I would. The warmth was an invitation from the earth to soak up the sun and feel the grass between your toes. How the ocean would crash up on the shore and the birds would sing to their lovers early each morning. The hug that was my own lovers resting tightly around my waist, his breathing even and calm against my neck. Sheets tossed around the bed and bodies sprawled around in the humid heat. It was a peaceful bliss.
I used to wake early, turning carefully to not stir my Harry from his sleep. Allowing myself to be selfish for just a moment and keep him from the world and only for myself. My thumb would find the bridge of his nose, tracing the curves like he was a painting. A masterpiece crafted from Van Gogh. I would curl a soft strand of his hair around my pointer, massaging away any potential headaches from his head. Watching as his eyebrows would scrunch up only to relax into the soothing touch and he would press up further against the palm of my hand.
The smile would break out across my face for the first time that day in those moments. The intimacy overwhelming and private in a way that made it special and endearing. Something I could hold close to me. That smile wouldn’t fade for hours, the feeling of my hands in his hair waking him peacefully, a smile drawn on his face as a reflection of mine. His breath always stunk, but I didn’t mind. It only reminded me of how close he was holding me. How close he allowed me to be to him.
We’d dance in the sunlight that poured through the windows, basking in each other’s presence. The smell of breakfast wafting from the old pan on the well loved stovetop and sticking to the walls. He’d tell cheesy jokes and I’d laugh each time. Even if they weren’t funny, to me they were because they were his jokes.
Then, he’d leave for work. A kiss placed to my temple, lips lingering and drawn out from the desire to remain hidden away in our safe little paradise. He’d be off to write songs of his life, both real and made up from his own dreams and imagination. And I would stay at home, tending to the garden and writing down ideas for new projects I could pursue. Scribbling down sketches that I could turn into reality. A series of photos that would become my identity for only a moment of my life, something I could submerge myself in. Each photo either stored away for only myself to know ever existed, or to be shared on a flashy magazine cover. For everyone to see, for everyone to see when they think of that specific article they read. The different endings for each project exciting and interesting each time.
Yet, as time went on, I noticed the ideas were limited to only that. Ideas. I had not attempted to pursue the projects that had consumed me for the past couple weeks. The heavily detailed writings and sketches turning into an unfinished story that would continue to grow with no ending each time I sat alone in my own home.
I had lost that enthusiasm I always had. The overwhelming desire to start an idea as soon as it entered my mind slipping further and further until it was only a distant memory. Any project I managed to start lost all of my touch in them. The colors fading and the grainy texture more and more as any elements that reminded me of myself faded into the background. Each photograph stored deep in my desktop. Buried within a file of photos never to be touched again. It was almost as if I had dropped off the face of the earth. My mind at a mental and physical block that was sticky and thick with heaviness. My art no longer willing to be shared. I fell deeper and deeper into myself. The only thing keeping me grounded was my love. Those intimate moments that assured me I was still the same in some ways. My lack of material did not reflect my heart, as it still best for the same lover.
But that knowledge was never enough, these days. And the story grew lesser and lesser as the days went on. Harry would leave and I would tend to the garden. But I never wrote about my ideas. I never sketched them out for future me. The strong pull and passion I once had in my life gone like a warm summer day.
I used to know, I always wanted to be a photographer. It was like a gravitational forces pulled me towards it. A feeling that assured me that this was what I was made for keeping me persistent in the field. I longed to capture my memories in a photo that could be kept as a sweet reminder to that moment in my life, or shared with everyone to appreciate. To be placed on a magazine cover with bold letters layered on top, or hung on a wall of an art exhibit in a bustling city. I wanted to share my passion with the world so desperately.
But, I’m not sure now. I had lost that eagerness in it. Lost that sure feeling that this was what I was made for. Something I had been so drawn to for so long becoming something of a childhood dream. It was hard to pinpoint the turning of events. The changing in emotions connected to my passion. What was something that made me feel alive becoming something that was merely a hobby.
So when did it end? All the enjoyment? I don’t how to feel. Someday I might, but now I sit in the empty house, the moonlight dancing through the windows just as bright as the morning sun had brought in. The breeze cooler and the air less humid. I sit there, trying to find that desire my heart once held.
I wonder if Harry could see it. See the way the smile didn’t reach my eyes. How the permanent tattoo of happiness that were my smile lines became smoothed out with the weak smiles I gave each morning. How even when we were closest, I was distant. How my notebooks spine wasn’t yet cracked, the pages still white. Not yet stained with the grey of the graphite pencil and smears from my black pens. My camera sitting idly on the kitchen table by the dying flowers and the vacuumed carpet.
We danced just the same each morning and my hands still finding their way to his face. I wondered if he would still love me if I couldn’t be who he fell in love with. If the girl who was continuously happy, careless and enthusiastic in everything she did, didn’t exist anymore, could he still love the remaining pieces of her that were left behind?
He made me feel special, every minute we were together. The laughter and the jokes just the same. The movie nights and the picnics in the park on the weekends just as romantic. I prayed as silent as a whisper that my lifeless eyes and dying happiness wouldn’t drive him away.
My sadness was a secret. A promise to myself that I wouldn’t share my despair and crisis with my boyfriend, a stress I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
My whole identity built around my art and my bubbly mood. Something I wished I still had. But the realization for the lost interest and the loneliness that grew in with it too much to bare. Too much to remain the same. Just for this moment at least. Until I found myself again.
Think I forgot how to be happy. Something I'm not, but something I can be. I can be happy. I can be happy when I’m out. When I’m with my love. When I’m with my friends. When I’m in the garden or at the beach. Being happy is something I wait for.
So, even if it hurt to realize I was not made to be what I always dreamed of, I was still sure about something. When the storm had passed and the waves calmed. When the trees stopped swaying and the clouds cleared, I would always have that relief of happiness that was sure to return eventually.
Being happy is what I'm made for.
Something I'm made for.
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harrytheehottie · 10 months
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‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON PART THREE
a/n: finally!!! the final part of ‘tis the damn season series. it’s a doozy! hope you enjoy! 
word count: 5.5k ⭐️ part one ⭐️ part two ⭐️  tell me your thoughts 
You wanted to say yes.
You knew you should have said yes.
You were standing in the pub where you first met. He rented the place out for the night - filling it with lights, candles and flowers. He had pictures of the two of you throughout the years placed on every table accompanied by a letter.
The first picture you took in this same pub was one neither of you were aware of. One of his friends took it upon themselves to snap a picture of the two of you talking in the corner and sent it to Harry the same night with a text, “I think you found your girl.” It was a feeling they got, he explained, a feeling that he brushed off but now, was thinking about how much of an idiot he was to not take the hint that night.
It took about 3 years for the two of you to get your shit together - Harry more so than you. It was fun at first, hooking up with no labels or “funny business” until it started to feel like you were someone he was ashamed of. And then one day, it all came out of Harry - his love for you, his deep regret for thinking you never wanted anything more with him and his eagerness to try again.
So, you did. You tried and you were happy, very happy. You and Harry spent 3 months dating slowly learning one another without the clouded judgements that come with sex. He was working on his commitment issues in therapy - something he shared with you quite often. You were proud of him for putting himself first and allowing himself the time to truly open up beyond the surface level. You were a unit, a very happy, solid unit.
Until tonight.
When you wake up that morning to an empty bed and a note next to your morning coffee that reads - “I’ll be out all day, meet me at the pub @ 7? Xx Harry'' you knew something was up. Harry wasn’t new to this random dinners and surprises thing, it was actually something you really loved about him. His ability to always make you feel like you were constantly on his mind. He would send you texts of things he saw throughout his day, a song on the radio you’d like, he’d pick up ingredients for dinner and have it ready when he had some time off and you’d been at work, if you mentioned an artist, play, movie that you’d like to see - he would have it on your calendar and you’d make it down to the O2, Royal Albert Hall, any venue across London with the best seats in the house.
You never really talked about marriage. You had been together for three years and never once spoke about marriage, the future? Yes, but never marriage. As far as you were concerned, Harry didn’t want to get married, didn’t believe that a piece of paper could ever sum up what the bond that the two of you had.
So, when you found yourself in your local pub with Harry down on one knee in front of you his hair parted down the middle - just like you always told him you loved because of the way it framed his face, wearing his olive green blazer with nothing underneath but the thin gold necklace with the banana charm you gave him for an anniversary shining off his chest.
“You mean the absolute world to me and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Harry spoke as he pulled you in for a hug.
“What’s all this about?” You asked, unaware of what Harry was getting at.
“I love you,” he whispered into your ear before pulling away from the hug and taking a step back.
You could feel the sudden nerves that filled him. The way he started rubbing his hands together, his thumb and pointer finger pulling at his bottom lip, Harry looked down at the ground before looking back at you, his green eyes finding yours, taking a deep breath before falling down to one knee.
You were frozen.
Your heart dropped down when you realized what was going to happen.
Harry was going to propose to you.
“There is no one else out there for me. Will you please give me the privilege of calling you my wife?”
Harry looked up at you, the corner of his eyes beginning to fill with tears.
“Harry,” your voice trembled. You knew it wasn’t what he was expecting, you hated that you had to do this to him. “I…” you couldn’t finish your sentence but Harry knew.
He moved up from his position standing up in front of you, the tears that were supposed to be from happiness now streaming down his face for something much worse. You were still unable to speak. You felt the rush of guilt ruining this moment. You were more aware than ever that you were alone in this pub that had every detail of your relationship over the last 3 years in it.
“S’not how I really pictured this going” Harry snapped you out of whatever daze you were still in.
“Neither did I,” you admitted. “Harry, I am flattered beyond flattered, that isn’t even the right word for what I feel right now. I just never, I just. I feel so bad. I don’t want this to ruin us. I don’t want to regret this. ”
Harry let the tears fall, his brows furrowed his hand running through his hair before finding the way to pull at his bottom lip again. You’ve never seen Harry like this. The mixture of anger and sadness and you don’t believe this is that moment but if it was, you knew you deserved it.
“Believe me, my dear no one will regret this moment more than I will.”
“Harry don’t say that, please don’t say that. Can we just talk - can you hear me out?”
“I invited our family and friends. Planned this whole night with no doubt in my mind you’d say yes, we’d have time to ourselves before our friends and family surprise us in about 20 minutes.”
“They’re coming here?”
“Yes, here. S’why I rented out the entire pub. If I had any indication that you’d say no I probably wouldn’t have planned it this way.” He was being short.
You hated how much you deserved it.
“Harry, I love you so much. I just wish I had a heads up? We never spoke about marriage, I thought you didn’t want to get married when you told me about childhood and traditions and what we did or didn’t want you never once brought up marriage. I just,” you reached out in front of you to hold his hands, your thumb running up and down his knuckles. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you but,”
“You don’t.” Harry said in a low voice, his anger becoming more apparent as he refused to look you in the eye.
“Baby, please”
“Don’t.”
You wished you could take this moment back. Say yes and talk about it later. You wanted a future with Harry, you didn’t see a future without him in it. But there was something telling you to say no. You weren’t ready - you knew the both of you weren’t ready. Harry was about to embark on the craziest tour schedule that you have ever seen and you didn’t know what that meant for the two of you. And now, you were stuck, in the pub that you knew you’d never be able to walk by again, telling the love of your life you couldn’t marry him and trying to create a plan on what you’re going to do when your family makes their way over.
“We could just pretend?” You whispered.
Harry began to chuckle, clapping his hands together, “You want me to spend the next two hours in front of our closest friends and family pretending like you didn’t just… say no to a future with me?”
Before you had the chance to speak up and because timing was never either of your best qualities, the door of the pub opens, starting with Harry’s Mum and sister, Gemma and Anne walking through the door beaming with excitement. They have more flowers, balloons and what appears to be a congratulatory cake.
And it didn’t take long for their excitement to quickly die - the ring box with the ring in hand on the bar next to Harry, the clear distance between the two of you and if that wasn’t enough - the way Harry looked over to his mum and sister, with his brows furrowed, his lips began to tremble and like they were on cue, both women came rushing towards him.
You watched as they hugged and embraced him, the constant sorry’s slipping through their conversation. Neither of them even wanted to ask any follow up questions. If there was any shot of a reconciliation you had to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I’m going,”
“No,we will go, the two of you stay and work out whatever it is you need to. Mum and I will man the door and contact those we need to.” You were quickly cut off by Harry’s sister.
You nodded in agreement, the last thing you wanted was to give them another reason to hate you. They gave Harry one last hug and before the women started to walk away, Anne, Harry’s mother who you grew very fond of through the course of you relationship walked towards you with open arms, whispering “I know you love him, I’ve never been more sure of it and if that love is still there, allow yourselves the chance to fight for that love.”
“No matter what happens Anne, I’ll always think of you as family,” is what you could respond with. Gemma followed her mother, giving you a hug and reminding you that, “it’s your life and we’ll always love you.”
As you watched the two most important women in Harry’s life exit the pub that was supposed to be used to celebrate the next step in you and Harry’s life you wondered if they were trying to mask the disappointment.
“I don’t want to do this.” Harry said. He was short, rightfully so.
“Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I want to do any of this?” Your anger kicking in, “not once have we ever had this discussion. You have never brought up marriage until this very moment, you don’t just ask someone to marry you without bringing it up first.”
“Sorry, here I was thinking that proposals were supposed to be surprises,” he was pissed. You knew it from the second you rejected him. It always starts off slow, frustration turns to sadness and then into anger. You’ve never been the subject of that anger, until now.
“Do you know what a marriage is? It’s not a fancy wedding and an excuse to have a party. It takes work - what am I meant to do when you’re on tour for 9 months out of the year? Drop everything to be by your side? Give up my career so you could live out yours? We don’t even live together Harry, for fucks sakes. What shall I do with my house? Sell it and move into yours? Everything about our relationship from the day it started has been about you - when do you want me around, when is it time for you to want to take me seriously, and one day finally you came to your senses and apologized for the hell you put me through. Do you know how that feels? How does that mess with someone? I love you Harry, I love us. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that deep down something inside me will always wonder if I’m just here until you find your next best - no one makes the girl you've been stringing along for years the girlfriend, and now you expect me to say yes to being a wife?”
You were exhausted. You felt every emotion that you buried deep inside come rushing out.
“You’re still holding onto things from years ago and you know s’not fair. I was a dickhead, I owned that, I’m ashamed of that. I want you, I want every part of you for the rest of my life,” Harry’s green eyes meeting yours, you felt every word he was saying but you knew you couldn’t, not now.
“I believe you Harry and I love you so much, that’s why I can’t,” you were aware of how hypocritical you were being. You needed to think.
“You can’t even say it, s’pathetic, is this your way of getting back at me? If so s’working if that’s what you were going for.” His accent getting more thick stumbling over his words,  a sign that this conversation was far from over.
“If that’s what you think Harry then I don’t know if I have anything else to say to you.”
“S’not what I think? It’s what I know. S'pose to the love of my life and she can’t even say she’s rejecting me, s’pathetic, rented out this pub, bought a ring, got our friends and family excited.”
“You’re not being fair Harry.” You knew he was speaking from a place of hurt but you also knew, if you stood there any longer and allowed him to keep going - you’d both say something you could never take back.
“Fair? S’not fair?”
You moved closer to him, and when he didn’t step back from your advance towards him, it gave you hope that you’d be able to come back from this. You took his hands into yours, and looked him in the eye, searching for the familiarity and love that you always knew was there, even when you were going through the worst of it, “Harry, I want this to work, I love you.” You put your arms out to hug him and he fell into you - the comfort of his body embracing yours, your hands running circles around his back, you knew that it would take some work but you and Harry always came back to each other. “I’m going to go now.”
You pulled back, kissing him on his chest right where the first button of his blazer met. You looked up at him one last time and he couldn’t muster up the courage to look at you, mumbling his goodbye as you walked out the door.
&&
Gemma and Anne took care of letting everyone else that was invited know. Your parents came over with food and flowers and you tried to keep it all in. All you could think about was Harry, what he was doing or thinking and on the third night of radio silence from him, you began doom scrolling through the internet. You knew you shouldn’t have. You never allowed yourself to google yourself. It was never worth it. Once you became officially linked to Harry it was a breeding ground for rumors and gossip. Tonight was worse.
Harry Styles seen with a new mystery woman. Girlfriend hasn’t been seen in weeks. Trouble in paradise?
You clicked the link. Your stomach dropping at the sight of a very drunk Harry being escorted out of a club, a sigh of relief washing over you when you realized the mystery woman was one of the lesser known people in Harry’s inner circle. You kept zooming in and out of the images of him. The way he could barely walk, stumbling out with his security guards, his body looked limp. You haven't seen him like this since before you officially got back together. He kept partying for special occasions but never went overboard.
You wanted to reach out to him. Tell him that you could work through this. You wanted to be with him. You wished he would’ve waited. But that’s the man you fell in love with. His spontaneity was one of your favorite things about him. You never thought it would be the type to keep you apart.
During the years that you and Harry were in a limbo you would always wonder what he was up to on nights that you weren’t together. Your relationship always felt like it was in his hands. Does he want to see you? Did he ask you to come to a show? How fast can you get to his house? When were you going back home for the holidays? You felt like you had this duty to him even though it was no strings attached friends hooking up. The ball felt like it was never in your court.
And you could never escape him. When you’d go weeks and weeks of not seeing him you would inevitably catch his face somewhere. On your weekly grocery run there would be lines of magazines. It felt like you couldn’t escape. You would avoid the supermarket as much as you could so you wouldn’t be subjected to anymore of him. You immediately fell back into bad habits which made Harry constantly going out hurt more. You wondered what he told people. How those around him would react. The ones who knew you but had loyalty to Harry. What did his family think? You felt completely isolated.
And you really tried not to let your mind wander too far but you also couldn’t help but wonder how long it was going to take him to fall into someone else.
&&
You went out for one of your friend’s birthdays after being stuck at home for weeks. The last thing you wanted to do was be in a nasty club surrounded by drunk people. It had been years since that point of your life since you got into a relationship with Harry and now that your life felt like it imploded, it was the last thing you wanted to do. But you had to. Your friends had been your rocks through this experience and it was probably good to spend a night out trying to clear your mind of things.
So, you put on your little black dress paired with your favorite leather bomber jacket that Harry gifted you for your one year anniversary, kept the tears at bay once you had your hair up in a bun and makeup on ready to take on the night.
You took a shot of tequila before leaving your apartment to get your nerves in order. A second shot immediately as you got to the table at the club. Your third as you wished a happy birthday to the birthday girl. You were feeling the good type of drunk where you weren’t sloppy just a little loose. All of the worries of the last few weeks just went away, you felt good and present.
“I’m so glad you came out with us,” the birthday girl said as she embraced you for a hug. All your friends were happy to see you, they only knew bits and pieces of why you and Harry were in this current stage so they were being extra supportive tip toeing around your current relationship state.
Everything was good, you were all having fun.
Until, the birthday girl decided she wanted to leave the club and go walk over to a pub that she knows has karaoke. You walk in and the first song that you hear is one that had been a part of the ‘soundtrack’ of you and Harry’s relationship, The Way I Feel Inside by The Zombies. You remember it clearly, and can see it playing out in front of you like a movie. You were over at his. Harry decided to treat you to a dinner that ended up turning into a takeaway because he overcooked the pasta before you got there blaming it on his nerves.
“I make you nervous?” You teased as you watched him pour the both of you a glass of wine.
“Very,” the shy smile paired with the blush on Harry’s cheeks answered your question. Your heart beating out of your chest as you took his statement in. You felt like you spent so much of your early arrangement fighting for him to come to this realization and now that he was doing this all for you and letting you know how much you meant to him, you couldn’t help how much it melted your heart. Your relationship wasn’t perfect and it definitely came from unconventional circumstances but you knew he was it for you.
“Oh my god, are you Harry Styles' girlfriend?”
“What?” You were snapped out of your daydream and suddenly there were two very eager girls in front of you with their phones out.
“It’s you right?” They both said almost in unison before they flashed their phones in front of you, an image of you and Harry taken by a stranger illuminated the screen. You remember that day, you were both wearing each other's hoodies, a coffee in hand as you walked through the park. You had no idea that someone took a picture of the two of you.
Luckily, you were immediately pulled away from the girls by your friends. Your mind was spinning and you felt like you were out of your body. People taking pictures of you and Harry was unfortunately something you were used to. You have never been approached by anyone on your own and even rarely with Harry. He made a point to protect you from that and you were grateful.
But now, you were drunk, unsure about your future but hopeful that if anyone could make it work, it would be the two of you.
&&
You woke up from a text from Gemma, you hadn’t spoken to her since the incident and your mind immediately went to something being wrong with Harry.
Gemma: Hello! Are you doing alright? Just checking in.
Hii! As good as I could be right. How are you? Is Harry alright?
He’d probably say the same as you
If her motivation for checking in was to make you feel bad it was working.
I just want to make sure you’re okay and know you always have a friend in me, regardless of what happens.
Also, please don’t read any of the online bullshit. That’s a dark place to be and it’s not good for either of you.
Gemma was one of the first people to have a talk with you about the reality of being in Harry’s life. It was shortly after you accidentally ran into her after not so secretly leaving Harry’s childhood bedroom. She invited you to lunch once you were back in London to have a talk with you.
“I don’t know what you and my brother have and I’m sure he’s tried all he can to protect you from that side of the internet but I know how curiosity can creep up on you or anyone in your life and I promise it’s not worth it.”
You listened. You wanted to protect your bubble for as long as you could and you knew that allowing that outside noise into your life would do more harm than good. 
&&
You were woken up in the middle of the night by three rapid knocks at your front door. It startled you at first. It was too late at night for it to be someone you were expecting but there was also something soothing about your walk to the door. Your stomach filled with butterflies and anticipation, like your body knew who always knocked like that no matter what the situation. And when you opened your front door and saw Harry in front of you, slightly disheveled and clearly drunk from whatever bender he was on.
“Harry, what are you doing here?” You tried to hide the concern in your voice but knew you were doing a shit job at it.
``Ve been drinking at the bar across the street everyday waiting for you… walked over here a few times, s’just the first time I’ve made it up the steps. Think your neighbors finally took pity on me and let me up.” He was slurring his words and talking at a faster speed than usual, which were tell-tale tell signs since you were younger that he had a bit too much to drink and was probably going to regret whatever he was saying in the morning.
“You should come in.” You said making room for him as you opened the door wider, Harry stumbled his way inside. He was wearing a white button down and some brown trousers, his hair had grown out since the last time you saw him and the facial hair that you always loved was growing out too.
The silence in the room was heavy, the last time he was here everything felt natural. You were in a routine of dating, splitting time between your two homes, dinner dates, movie nights that you never made it past the first 30 minutes of any movie before your hands found their way to each other. The comfort Harry felt in your space was still there as he made his way into the kitchen, opening the right cupboard to grab two cups and plates.
“Making us a cheese toastie, you always loved a cheese toastie after a night out with a glass of milk.” Harry spoke before you could question him.
“Not sure if you’re that far gone but I didn’t go out.” You laugh as you watch him open your fridge for the ingredients. All the build up in your head of what the first time you would see Harry would be like suddenly disappeared. He was your Harry and no bump in the road was going to change that.
“S’gues I’ll just have both of them then?” He said.
“And leave me here to starve?” You walked across the kitchen island that you were standing at and took the pan out the dishwasher for him.
“You’ve always said you liked to watch me eat.” Harry teases you for a drunken confession you made years ago after a night out. You ordered in some burgers and fries and you made the mistake of telling him it was turning you on.
You fell into a comfortable silence as you watched him make a couple cheese toasties. You poured each of you a glass of almond milk and walked over to the coffee table, opting to eat while sitting on the floor. He was sobering up with each bite. You watched him eat, taking all that you missed in the last month. His skin was paler than you remembered, a sign that he hadn’t been out as much as you anticipated.
“Did you come here just for some food?” You broke the silence in the room. It was nice pretending that you didn’t just go over a month without speaking and now he was turning up after a few drinks to your front door.
“Obviously not,” Harry moves his body closer to yours placing his hands on your thighs - the familiar feeling of comfort in all of this.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
“Can we wait?” He asked his green eyes, finding yours, the familiar look and feeling of reassurance and comfort you always felt when he looked at you. You had come a long way from him not being able to look at you as you left the pub that night. “We have the rest of our lives to talk.” He whispered in your ear before pulling back and meeting your eyes again.
“I just want to say I’m sorry and I love you and I’m grateful that you’re here. You don’t know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone but thought you were just done with me and I don’t know how lucky I got to have someone like you,” you pause to take a breath, “I’m just so sorry.”
Harry leaned in closer and responded with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around him as Harry moves his to the back of your legs and thighs moving you so you’re now straddling his lap. Your mouth moved in a way that was so familiar, “I’ve missed this so much,” Harry said as he kissed down your neck, whispering how beautiful you are and how many nights he wished he would’ve just come over to yours. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” the roughness in his voice sends a flutter through your entire body.
“Hmm,” you quirk a brow at him.
A small smile on his face, as he pulls up your shirt and you help him take it off. Harry pauses for a second, repositioning you so you are now sitting down and he is in front of you, slowly working his way down from your lips to your neck before cupping your breasts and moving his mouth down your chest as he sucks on your nipple. Your slow moans filling up the room. You had a lot to talk about and this was always his way of feeling close to you and letting his guard down. And it was working. Your arousal grew as he continued to lick and suck up and down your chest. You squeezed your legs together in anticipation and it lit a spark into Harry as he moved down your body to where you wanted him most.
Harry pulls down your underwear and slips his thumb where you need him most circling your clit. You push your hands into his hair pulling the front ends away from his face so you can really see him work on you. He moves his thumb faster before shifting his to slip two fingers inside you. You close your eyes as you shift your body to adjust to the sensation. The feeling of comfort, arousal and home all wrapped into one. This was more than just sex with Harry - he was communicating all of his feelings for you through his slow and steady actions. The primal way he was watching how your body reacted to him. Always putting in the work for you before thinking about himself.
“Harry…” you moan.
“Missed that sound.” Harry mumbled as he continued working his fingers inside of you before moving down to find his mouth onto your center. You tightened the grip on his hair - pulling and tugging as he sucks and licks you into your first orgasm. Watching him working you up is turning him on -- your hands moving from his hair to his own waist, unzipping his pants and watching him grow - the more he was making you feel good it was making him feel better.
And that was the rest of your night, your bodies saying all the things that you couldn’t yet. The way you ached for him and he ached for you. As you drifted to sleep in Harry’s arms, you knew that no matter the distance and time apart you both knew this is was worth fighting for.
&&
You woke up the next morning to a familiar song playing throughout the house.
Should I try to hide
The way I feel inside
My heart for you?
Would you say that you
Would you try to love me too?
You walked downstairs and found Harry in nothing but his briefs, coffee brewing in the coffee maker with a stack of pancakes. A view that you were used to, a sense of calm and home.
“Morning!”
“What’s all this?” You questioned as you walked over to him and planted a kiss on his lips.
“M’just making breakfast for my girl.”
You quirked a brow at him, “I could get used to this, maybe I should reject you more often if it comes with these types of perks.” you teased.
“Ha, ha, very funny…” Harry deadpanned before breaking into a bit of laughter himself.
You spent the morning enjoying each other’s company and the breakfast feast that he made before spending the rest of the day putting all your cards on the table. Harry was going to reroute his tour to make more time to fit your schedule so you weren’t the one that had to constantly rearrange yourself to fit into his. You were going to move into his at the end of your lease. You created a plan on And most importantly, you talked about how a ring and a wedding was never the end goal for you.
“My goal has always just been you,” Harry finished your sentence before you could.
And for you, it’s always just been Harry.
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