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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 30 days

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SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

A/N: i am so excited to post this fic, because it is a collab with @harrysfolklore !! it means that the story has a pair over on her blog, a blurb that features the instagram posts included in this fic! head over to her blog and check out her blurb as well!!

PAIRING: Harry Styles X Famous!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SUMMARY: You're in a PR relationship with your long time friend, Pete Davidson. Hosting SNL along with Harry as the musical guest, you are hoping your fake relationship will spark some jealousy in the british singer you've been crushing on forever.

MASTERLIST

“There, it’s out,” you grin at your phone, placing it to the coffee table, knowing well your socials are blowing up at the moment like never before, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

“Have I told you lately how crazy you actually are?” Pete laughs, sprawled out on your couch as if it was his home, but in a sense it’s him as well. Having been friends for over a decade, he comes and goes in your house like he owns it and you do the same at his. There’s no taboo in your friendship at this point. That’s why you asked him to be your PR boyfriend for a couple of weeks, at top two months.

“Um, excuse me? Is that how you talk to your girlfriend?” you ask pretending to be hurt, but he then pretends to throw up so you throw a pillow at him laughing.

“Stop abusing me, I’m helping you!” he protests, but can’t hold his laughter back as he grabs another pillow and attacks you with it.

He really is helping you in a lot of senses. Your PR team has been in your ass all month to get you to do something that would bring you attention with your upcoming SNL hosting and your next movie’s premier. You never liked these fake deals, but they do help with the attention, people go crazy for these stunts and most of the time they don’t even realize it’s not real. Like the time you were papped moving out of your exboyfriend’s place just weeks before the release of one of your movies when you were still happily living with him, or the time someone “leaked” some personal photos of you when your movie needed more attention, but of course, you handpicked all the photos from your own phone. The same is happening now with you and Pete pretending to be a couple, your fans have been wanting to see the two of you together for the longest, because apparently, there is no true friendship between a man and a woman.

Bullshit.

But they don’t have to know that and they are getting what they want now, just in time before you’ll be the next host on SNL with the musical guest as Adele. Then in a month, your new Netflix movie premiers, you’ll parade on the red carpet with your best guy friend, act like a couple and have a blast, just to announce your break up not much after. It will play out perfectly, though you have something else planned with your fake relationship.

Nothing gets a guy’s attention more than jealousy. While the world has been dying to see you with Pete, you’ve had your eyes on someone else. And that man is Harry Styles.

You religiously believe that there is no woman on this Earth who doesn’t have a crush on him. It just seems impossible. You remember watching videos of One Direction when they were still going strong together and you couldn’t take your eyes off of that one curly haired member with the pretty green eyes.

When you first started running in the same circles as him once you had your break through, you were on the edge to finally meet him at a party, an award show or practically anywhere. And then it finally happened, at the most iconic place, the MET Gala.

You still remember how his hand wrapped around yours when he introduced himself, the way he repeated your name when you said it, testing it out on his tongue, you were about to faint in the middle of the whole event. That would have definitely made headlines: “Young actress falls unconscious upon meeting Harry Styles.”

You ran into him a few times throughout the evening, but because he was one of the hosts, you couldn’t have him for as long as you wished. A few small talks, even a photo taken together and you went home with his smile stuck in your head, graved into your memories forever.

Since then, you have crossed paths a few times, but it never seemed like he wanted anything more than just a friendly relationship in the business, while you were crushing on him like a lovesick middleschooler since day one.

With this PR relationship, you are hoping to get him jealous enough to change all of that and get his attention. Is that petty and childish? Definitely, but you couldn’t come up with a better plan.

“You think Boyband will now take an interest in you?” Pete asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. He reaches for his beer from the coffee table as you cross your legs and hug the pillow he threw at you. He’s been calling Harry Boyband ever since you told him about your little crush on him and you know him better than to try to get him to stop doing it. He is too stubborn so you’re just living with it.

“If not, I’ll just jump at him next time I see him somewhere,” you scoff joking.

“Public sex, nice!” Peter grins and you just roll your eyes, grabbing your phone from the table. Opening up Instagram, you are pleased to see that people are going nuts about your post with your new beau. You scroll down the comments and like a few ones, replying to what some of your friends wrote and then close the app, letting them process the news, hoping that one particular British singer has seen the picture as well.

It’s been a week since you’ve started dating Pete and things have been going well. You’ve been doing the same thing you always do, grabbing lunch together, going shopping and hanging out, only this time you hold hands on the street and he kisses you sometimes, no big deal.

You’re not freaking out about it, because it’s not the first time. Years ago, you both got drunk and ended up having sex, but it was awful and awkward, at one point, you couldn’t stop laughing. You both promised then and there that it will never happen again and you knew that neither of you could look at the other one as more than just a friend. There was no chance any of you would catch feelings and a kiss on the lips is not the end of the world, you think of it as just another gig, a movie where you have to kiss someone you are not actually dating.

Your SNL promo pic went out a few days ago along with the announcement of you hosting. To say you’re pumped to be on the show is an understatement, it’s been a dream of yours for so long. Pete always told you he could get you an episode, but you told him not to. You wanted them to ask you, to want you because you were good enough and not because you knew Pete. The day has finally come!

What was weird is that you saw nothing about the musical guest. The announcement should have happened along with yours, but it’s been radio silence in that department.

You’re at Pete’s place when the announcement finally happens, but it’s not at all what you were expecting.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me Boyband is gonna be the musical guest in your episode,” Pete casually throws it in when you’re making dinner in the kitchen. He is sitting on the counter while you’re cutting the vegetables. The knife falls from your hand and you turn to him with a puzzled look.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He looks at you as if you had two heads, but you have no idea where he is coming from.

“Your little lover, he is gonna be the musical guest on the show. You didn’t know?”

“You think I would be this calm if it was the case?” you snap at him throwing your hands into the air. You love him, but he could be so stupid sometimes.

Pete shrugs and then turns his phone to show you the screen. Your heart drops when you see the SNL promo picture of him, posted to his Instagram, announcing that he’ll be performing at the next episode. Your episode.

“Pete, you’re on the show, why didn’t you tell me?!” you growls at him, checking if there are more posts, but it’s just this one so far.

“You think I pay attention at the meetings? I go there for the free food,” he grins, taking his phone back, snatching it out of your hands.

“What happened to Adele? Why didn’t they tell me about the change?” you throw around all your questions, still unable to process. You’re going to be on SNL with Harry Styles, your biggest crush ever.

“This is going to be your time! You can jump his bones on live TV!” Pete teases you, but you throw some carrots you just put at him.

“I think I’m gonna throw up. Like, actually.”

“Please don’t do that in my kitchen,” he grimaces. He is definitely not getting how serious this is. You won’t be just having quick little chats with Harry, you’ll be working with him on a full episode.

This is going to be your chance.

Harry is not big on using socials. He used to be, keeping full control of his Instagram, posting whatever he felt like when he was still in the band, but not so much in the past years. The photos going out on his page are usually posted by someone from his team, several people have access to the account and they make sure his profile is well-kept and professional.

However he still likes to snoop around on others’ profile.

From time to time he checks what’s been happening online, likes the pictures his friends posted and if he is feeling like it, he even comments on some of them, though this latter is a rare occasion.

He is having a late lunch at home when he decides to open Instagram and have a look at the buzz online. His promo picture for SNL went out just yesterday, he had to step in for Adele because she got the flu and she knew she wouldn’t be able to perform the way she wanted. Adele suggested Harry herself for the team on SNL and everyone loved the idea to have him on the show. A few calls later, it was all fixed and done.

And the most exciting part of it? That you’ll be the host, meaning that he gets to work with you.

Harry has been crushing on you since the first time he saw you acting in a romcom. He remembers seeing it with a few friends ages ago, you were a lot younger, playing a teenager and you might have been one at the time as well. He was in his early days with One Directions, very young and eagerly looking for his role in the world.

The movie was some no name, random film that didn’t really got too popular at the time, your break through came just a few years after that, but even in the terrible old movie, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Secretly, he followed your career all along. He has been your number one fan since the beginning and kept an eye on you at all times.

The first time he actually met you at the MET he was shitting his pants, to say the least. He knew you’d be there and when he was you in your custom gown, looking more gorgeous than ever, he felt like a nervous little boy, his palms were sweating and he thinks he talked a bunch of nonsense whenever he met you throughout the night. He was completely enamored by you and also so starstruck that he couldn’t even get himself to try to shoot his shots.

He felt like you were totally out of his league.

With you on his mind he wanders over to your page now as well. From time to time he likes to check what you’ve been up to and he loves your daring style in real life and on your social media profiles as well. You ooze confidence, giving away the biggest girl boss vibes.

You never disappoint him with your posts, but this time his stomach drops upon seeing your latest pictures.

One of them is not that big of a surprise, your SNL promo picture is looking as wonderful as he would have expected, but the photo posted before that is what knocks the breath out of his lungs.

You look as breathtakingly beautiful as always, but you’re not the only one in the photo. Pete Davidson is right there beside you and though Harry knows you’ve been friends with him for a long time, this picture is not a friendly one, especially with the caption underneath.

It’s a post that makes your relationship with him official. You are dating Pete Davidson.

“Fuck,” he growls, feeling like he has lost all hope to shoot his shots with you now that you’ll be working together. You even left a comment on his SNL post and it got his hopes high that this time he might not chicken out and make a movie. Well, that goes out the window now.

He is quick to fall down the rabbit hole, checking out more photos of the two of you, grabbing lunch together, getting caught leaving each other’s place and even kissing at a café. The bitter taste in his mouth just gets stronger with each photo he digs up from the internet, especially because fans are praising the new power couple.

He could throw a tantrum, jealousy is rushing through his veins right now.

Snooping around at an update account dedicated to you, he sees the latest picture of the two of you leaving some kind of event, it’s two pictures cut next to each other of you and Pete, so you didn’t leave side by side, but it’s obvious that you were together. His hand fists as he reads the comments and keeps zooming into the picture, loving the way you looked but hating that you were with another man.

And before he could stop himself, he likes the post.

“Oh shit,” he gasps and almost immediately takes it back, hoping no one caught the mistake, but then he changes his mind.

It’s just a like, he tells himself. You might never even find out about it. Not that big of a deal.

But you do find out about it. Because just a few hours after the like, screenshots spread around the internet highlighting Harry’s username in the list of people who like the post and one of these screenshots make it to Pete, who of course, sends it over to you right away.

PETE: Boyband has been stalking you ;)

PETE has sent an attachment

You open the picture he sent you and your mouth hangs open seeing Harry’s user circled in red, impossible to miss. But just to make sure it’s real, you look for the account yourself and opening the post you realize that it’s really there. He liked the paparazzi photos of you and Pete.

You have not had a private moment with Harry and you’ve been working on the episode for days. Okay, you don’t actually have much to do together since he only acts in one of the skits while you have to do three pre-recorded scenes and rehearse for three live ones along with your monologue, but you were expecting to see more of him.

The first meeting however was interesting. It was both awkward and funny, because you were wearing your costume for the skit but he was still in his own clothes and he couldn’t stop laughing at your wig.

“You look great,” he said, trying to hold his laughter back but he miserably failed. You play a mother in the skit, Pete is going to be your husband and your teenage daughter brings home her first boyfriend, but it turns out she is dating a badboy, aka Harry. He will burst into the room confessing his love for the daughter and then tries to charm you and Pete so you’ll let him date your little girl. You know it’s going to be a fun scene and you can’t wait for it to air.

All through rehearsals, you were catching him staring at you, your eyes meeting way more often than what you’d consider normal and he was especially observant when Pete was around you.

You sat through his rehearsals for his songs and were blown away by his talent of course. You wish you had time to actually talk to him after that, but you were dragged away before he could even come off the stage.

Now it’s the day of the show and on top of having your usual jitters because of being on live TV, you can’t stop acting like an awkward middleschooler around Harry. SNL just posted a picture of the two of you on Instagram just a few hours ago and now that you’re sitting outside the building with Pete, having a late lunch, you can’t help but scroll through the comments.

“Everyone thinks we look great together,” you sigh dreamily.

“I know, people have been shipping us forever,” he shrugs, thinking that you’re referring to him and you.

“No, I mean Harry and I. Look!” You hand him over your phone and he reads a few of the comments before giving it back to you.

“So now that you’re dating me, they want you to date him? I’m being thrown away!” he scoffs dramatically, but you just bump your shoulder against his as you lock your phone and go back to your sandwich that you’ve been trying to push down.

“I wish he thought the same way as the commenters.”

“Maybe he is in his dressing room right now, obsessing over the picture like you are. Or maybe he already has it printed and framed!” he teases you and you can’t help but laugh too.

“I will definitely have that picture framed,” you snort.

“I know. I know how crazy you are, so it’s not a surprise.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, not taking anything he says seriously. It’s a nice, peaceful moment before the madness settles in.

Your dressing room’s door flies open and you don’t even have to look there to know it’s Pete who just barged in.

“It’s shot time!” he announces, kicking the door closed, a bottle of tequila in his hands with three shot glasses. You finish applying your lipgloss and give him a puzzled look.

“Three glasses?”

Pete just grins at you knowingly and just right then, there’s a knock on the door and he calls out to the person on the other side.

“Come in, dude!”

The door opens again and Harry walks in, your mouth hanging open but you’re quick to mask your surprise. He looks gorgeous in his custom Gucci suit, of course, his hair done in a nice blowout, something you haven’t really seen on him and he is smirking at you playfully as he closes the door behind him.

“Is this where the before party is at?”

“Yeah! Come on, we’re gonna have some liquid courage, we all could use some,” Pete grins as he fills the three glasses and hands one to everyone.

“No salt and lemon?” you ask.

“Don’t be a pussy, we don’t do shit like that here. Just drink it, babe,” he grins and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

The glasses meet in the middle, all three of you singing cheers!, your eyes meeting Harry’s as you all down the shots. The alcohol burns down your throat and you can’t push down a grimace at the taste of it, that lemon would have been nice to wash it out of your mouth.

“Oh shit, I’ve gotta run. See you guys in a bit!” Pete exclaims, totally just pretending to be in a rush, he even winks at you from behind Harry before running out of the room and leaving the two of you alone.

“So, we haven’t really had too many chances to talk all week, huh?” you start the conversation.

“It’s been crazy, yeah. But I’m glad we are finally in the same room without anyone trying to drag one of us away,” he chuckles. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you,” you smile, feeling your cheeks heating up, but it’s just the shot, right? “You look great too. But you always do.”

“Is that so?” he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Well, obviously,” you huff and you start to feel nervous under his intent gaze. Is this his normal? Does he stare at everyone like this? Like he wants to devour them? Or is it just you?

Clearing your throat you grab the bottle of tequila feeling like you could use some more.

“Another one?” you smirk at him holding the bottle up.

“Are you sure it’s wise to get drunk before going live?” he chuckles, but doesn’t protest when you fill two of the glasses, Pete’s staying empty this time.

“Two shots is nothing,” you shrug and hand him one of them. “Cheers to us being on SNL!” you grin, clinking your glass to his.

“Yeah, cheers to us,” he smirks before downing the shot and you heart skips a beat as you do the same.

“Welcome! And thank you!” you smile around as the audience cheers when you walk out, the cameras rolling. The tight dress you’re wearing is stunning and you feel great in your skin, but maybe it has something to do with the shots you had not long ago.

“Thank you! I am Y/N Y/L/N and I will be your host tonight!” The cheering starts again as you wait a little, and when your speech starts rolling on the screen again you continue. “It is such an honor to be here tonight, it’s been definitely one of my dreams to be here and make a fool of myself. When I was contacted about the possibility of hosting an episode my first question was: “Did Pete show my nudes to the producers?”

The audience starts laughing again and you push down a smile as well.

“Turns out it’s not what happened. It wasn’t Pete, my nudes just got leaked. Anyway! We are in for an amazing show tonight, we have plenty of jokes and if things don’t go the way we planned, I can always just show my boobs on live TV, right?”

You don’t feel uncomfortable because of the jokes you’re making, the writers had you approve them very early on. You’ve been known to be the bold type, you don’t shy away from showing some skin or making some blunt jokes about your body or sex. Sometimes it’s even entertaining to see people get mad at you for them.

“Hopefully we won’t have to turn things into a Fifty Shades sequel, I wouldn’t be able to act upset if someone took me to a room like that, I’m way too familiar with those equipment.” This time someone even whistles along with the laughter. “I’m hoping to—“ you continue, but as planned you get interrupted by Kate McKinnon and the audience starts cheering. “Oh, hello, Kate!”

“Hi! Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve been trying to spice my Instagram up, I was wondering if we could take a picture,” she smiles, holding her phone up.

“Um, sure, but can it wait until after the show? I’m… kind of in the middle of something,” you say gesturing around in the studio.

“Just a quick picture! Please!” she begs and holds her phone up as she moves closer to you. Smiling at the camera you strike a casual pose before she turns to you.

“This is kinda boring, it’s not how you pose on your Instagram.”

“What… what do you want me to do?”

“Like, give it some… spice, you know?” she asks and then starts imitating the poses you usually do on your profile, only she does them even more dramatically while you just stand next to her, trying not to laugh along with the audience.

“Let’s just do this after the show, okay?”

“But—“

“Bye Kate!” you sing and push her out of the frame. “Okay, where was I? Um, I have no idea. But let me just introduce myself a bit more in case some of you have no idea who I am. I’m an actress, you most likely have seen me in romcoms on Netflix, but I actually have done some more serious stuff as well lately! Not many of you know this, but I was actually in Dune!”

At this point a picture is shown on the screens, a badly photoshopped photo of you posing in a bikini with a cocktail in your hand next to Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya in the desert. Then another one where you’re building a sand castle in the background at a fight scene.

“I understand if you didn’t notice me, I wouldn’t see anything else either if Timothée Chalamet’s sharp ass jawline was on the screen. But hopefully, tonight I will give a better performance.”

“Funny that you brought up performances!” Pete walks onto the stage, another round of cheering washing over the audience.

“Oh, hi Pete. What about performances?”

“Your performance wasn’t too good last night in the bedroom.”

“You really want to go there?” you ask pursing your lips. “Because you lack quite a lot in knowledge about the female orgasm,” you retort and the laughing continues until it turns into cheering and you know what’s happening. Harry has walked out to the stage. He stands on your other side, waiting just a few seconds for the cheering to die down.

“Did someone mention the female orgasm?” he asks and now you can’t hold back a chuckle.

“Everyone, give it up for tonight’s musical guest, Harry Styles!” you announce and clap along with the audience yourself as well.

“Thank you!” he bows a little with a smirk tugging on his lips. “So, you guys need advice on the female orgasm?” he asks.

“No, no, we’re good, dude,” Pete shakes his head but you scoff.

“Uh, excuse me, we are not good, dude. But I’m not sure if you’re the right person to turn to, Harry.”

“Come on, everyone knows I have a bunch of songs about this topic.”

“Are you talking about Watermelon Sugar? Because I don’t know what kind of woman you ate out who tasted like that. It’s not healthy, Harry.”

“Yours tastes like cinnamon rolls,” Pete adds with a shrug.

“Okay, okay, this is enough. Why don’t you guys just let me finish this damn monologue in peace?” you roll your eyes.

“Alright, see you soon,” Pete nods and bumping his fist against Harry’s, he exits to one side and Harry heads out on the other, leaving you alone on the stage.

“I’ll just keep it short before another man pops in unannounced,” you sigh dramatically. “Stay with us, we’ve got an incredible show for you tonight, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, your host tonight and you are watching Saturday Night Live!” you finish off the monologue as the outro music starts playing and the audience claps for you.

The show goes by in a blur. One skit after the other and whenever you’re not on the stage, you’re in hair and makeup, transforming into the next character. It’s crazy and hectic, but you love every moment of it.

And then the skit with Harry comes.

Everything is going smooth, the audience seems to be liking it and you haven’t broken out of your character either so it’s a win. According to the script, Harry bursts into the room, confesses his love for your daughter who is played by Cecily Strong. Then he would beg for you to let him date her, but Pete, aka the father throws him out. It goes as written on the script, the audience seems to be enjoying the skit and then they go wild when Harry appears.

“No! I can’t stay away any longer!” he exclaims dramatically and waits a few moments for the laughter to die down before continuing. “I’m here to do what I should have done a long time ago!”

“Who the hell are you?” Pete asks from next to you on the couch.

“I am your daughter’s boyfriend,” he states in a heroic pose and you have to give it to him, he looks hot in the leather jacket and Dr. Martens, his hair smoothed into a kind of style John Travolta had in Grease.

“Another boyfriend?” you ask with a gasp, since according to the scene she has brought a fake one home, one you’d accept in her opinion.

“No! I’m her real boyfriend! She just hired this little loser!” Harry grimaces.

“He is a prostitute?!” Pete questions.

“What? No!” Cecil snaps. “Matt, what are you doing here? I told you not to come here!” she cries out to Harry and running over to him, he takes her hands into his, kissing them passionately.

“But I just couldn’t stay away, I have to fight for what I want!”

“And what do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I want, everyone to shut up so I can watch the game in peace,” Pete sighs, staring at the prop TV that’s not even on, but the audience can’t see that.

“I want you, Kate!” Harry continues, ignoring the comment. “I know we’ve only been dating for four days, but I can’t live without you! I love you, Y/N!”

Wait, what?

Everyone on stage freezes for a moment after the slip up and the audience gasps as they register what just happened. Harry was supposed to confess his love to Cecily, calling her Kate, but he ended up saying your name. Your real name.

It seems like everyone in the scene is too shocked, even Harry himself and your acting skills kick in.

“Y/N? Who is Y/N? See, Kate, I bet he is dating other girls!” you snap, turning the scene a bit around.

It seems to get everyone else going and soon, you manage to get back to the scene as it was planned, but all along, you can’t stop yourself from shaking inside.

The show finally ends, no other mishaps happen and you feel relieved as you say your goodbye and the whole cast gathers on the stage, congratulating everyone on the successful episode.

Everyone keeps coming up to you, hugging and shaking hands and you catch Harry’s eyes over someone’s shoulder. Without anyone else noticing you nod at him to follow you and you sneakily make your way to a hidden spot on the set, Harry following you right behind.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I have no idea what happened!” he apologizes right away, clearly, it’s been eating him away. “It’s gonna make the headlines, this is gonna get so messy!”

“I don’t care,” you say with a blank face. “Was there any meaning behind it?”

“What?” he breathes out with a puzzled look.

“Was it a slip-up because you actually have feelings for me?” you rephrase the question.

“I uhh, I would never want to ruin someone else’s relationship, Y/N. You and Pete—“

“Just fucking answer it!” you groan rolling your eyes. “Are you into me?”

He stares back at you, his jaw clenching before he finally answers.

“I am. I have been for a while and—“

You cut him off again, but this time, you put your lips to good use, pressing them against his in the dark hiding spot somewhere on the set of Saturday Night Live, the rest of the cast buzzing not far away from the two of you, yet it all fades into nothing as his lips start moving against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. Pushing you to take a few steps backwards your back hits the wall and you moan into his mouth as he presses against you. You feel like a teenager sneaking around with your boyfriend so your parents don’t catch you, only this time if you got caught you’d be labeled as a cheater and Harry would most likely become a home-wrecker.

Suddenly, Harry pulls back as if he got hit by electricity, his lips swollen and his eyes wide as he stares back at you in shock.

“Wait, what are you doing?! Pete is right out there, we… we can’t…”

You can’t hold back a laugh at his panic, realizing that you are supposed to be in a relationship.

“It’s fake, Harry. I’m not actually dating Pete,” you tell him and watch as his face falls upon hearing the news.

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“No,” you chuckle shaking your head. “It’s PR for tonight and my upcoming movie. We already have a date set to break up.”

“Holy shit, I got so scared, Y/N,” he admits exhaling sharply before he cups your face in his hands and kisses you again. “I was not in the mood to fight Pete Davidson at the after party,” he chuckles against your lips, making you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t worry, he’ll probably high five you when he finds out about us.”

“So there is an us?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“You don’t want that?”

“Y/N, I have wanted it since I was like… eighteen,” he admits chuckling.

“You’ve been crushing on me all along?” you gasp with wide eyes and he just nods, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip that you can’t wait to go back to kissing. “That’s funny, because I’ve had the fattest crush on you since probably forever too.”

“Damn it, then we have a lot of time to make up for that we missed, huh?” he grins coyly and kisses you again. And again. And again…

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 30 days

Text

GOOD THINGS TAKE TIME

A/N: can't believe i actually wrote this, but yaay!! i did it!!

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

SUMMARY: Harry has been in love with Y/N since forever. Unfortunately the plan he comes up with to win her over leads her to meet the man she eventually would get engaged to...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This is literally the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

“No, it is brilliant!”

“Brilliantly stupid,” Niall retorts, staring at his best friend who is standing in front of the tiny mirror they managed to squeeze into their dorm room. Harry runs his fingers through his unruly curls, settling them in a messy, but organized way before grabbing his jacket and phone.

“Why would it be stupid? It will work out perfectly. These speed dating things never work, we will have a round with each other and I will prove that I’m the perfect guy for her! Easy!”

Niall can’t help but bark out a laugh from his bed.

“Yeah, that’s a cool fairytale, but have you thought of everything that could go wrong?”

“Nope, because nothing will go wrong. Don’t piss me off, I’m about to win over the girl I’ve been in love with my whole life. Why are you being so bitter?”

“I’m just… not sure this is the best way to do it,” Niall sighs.

“It’ll be fine. I have to go now. Wish me luck!”

And with that he is out of the small, cramped room.

Harry is quick to forget about Niall’s warning, in his mind, it’s the perfect plan. He begged Y/N to come to this speed dating event held on campus for a week before she finally agreed. He’s convinced there’ll be no one he should be worried about and he has thought about what it will be like when he will be sitting in front of her, how he will charm her and finally step over the lines of friendship and head towards something more.

It all played out well in his head.

He meets her by the café that’s the location of the event. She is already there, wearing a flowy dress with a denim jacket over, she is not too dolled up, but he can tell she spent quite some time in the bathroom probably before leaving.

She looks breathtaking.

“Hey there,” he smiles widely as he walks up to her. “Ready?”

“Not really,” she huffs out a short, nervous laugh.

“Come on, it will be fun!” he smirks, opening the door for her, catching the scent of her sweet perfume as she walks past him.

They come here often between lectures, now the tables are lined up straight, two chairs by each of them with notebooks and pens waiting to be used during the speedy rounds. There are a handful of people lingering around already and soon enough the place fills up and the event starts. Harry and Y/N end up sitting a couple of tables away from each other, so it will take about five rounds for them to meet. The host of the event explains how it works: every round is ten minutes long, either people get five minutes to tell the person across from them about themselves. At the end of a round they can exchange numbers and carry on with the event or they can decide to step out of the line and carry their conversation on.

Harry is confident as he waits for it to start, while Y/N seems nervous as she examines the men sitting in front of the line of women. The bell that signals the start and end of the rounds rings and everyone focuses on the person sitting across the table.

One round, two rounds, three rounds go by, Harry tries his best to focus on the girls he talks to, but he is just too excited to finally get to Y/N. She is now just one table away from him, only one more girl before he finally gets to take the chair in front of her.

The round ends and it’s time to move to the next table. Harry is collecting his notebook and pen when he sees two figures stand up from the corner of his eyes. He turns to his right and sees Y/N standing up from her table along with the guy she just talked to in the last round.

Harry’s stomach drops and his jaw hangs open for a moment as he watches the two of them move to a table on the side, she is laughing and the guy touches her arm as they exclude themselves from the rest of the daters.

Harry is frozen, panic settles in the pit of his stomach, then someone nudges him to move and he is forced to carry on while the table she was sitting at before is now awfully empty.

He was not expecting this. This was not part of his plan, he was supposed to be the one to sweep her off her feet, not some random guy. He forces himself to carry on with the rounds, but he can barely focus, he keeps looking back at Y/N, but she seems quite happy to be talking to the guy.

It feels like forever until there are no more rounds and everyone is free to chat with whoever caught their eyes. Harry is tempted to go over to Y/N, make the guy leave and claim her to be his. But all he can do is just watch as the girl he’s been in love with forever falls for someone else.

It’s his personal hell.

Hours go by and they are still talking, but Harry can’t watch it any longer. He sends her a text saying he’s gone back to the dorm and to text him when she is home as well. When he walks into his room Niall is about to ask how it went, but just one look on his face is enough to figure out the plan did not work.

He lies in bed wide awake for hours and then her text finally arrives.

Y/N: Back in the dorm :) thanks for asking me to come, it was awesome! I’ll tell you about Oscar tomorrow Xx

Oscar. Harry didn’t want to know who she chose over him, but now he had a name and even though he knew nothing about him, he hated the guy.

With a heavy heart he drops the phone to his night stand and stares at the wall until the Sun rises.

Harry has read over the menu at least five times by the time Y/N walks into the restaurant finally. It hasn’t been that long since the last time he saw her, he can still feel that stinging feeling in his chest every time he sees her he’s felt in the past years.

“Sorry, finding a parking spot was impossible,” she huffs as she reaches the table, he stands and they share a short, but tight hug.

“It’s fine,” he smiles.

“Have you ordered?” she asks, grabbing the menu Harry’s been staring at the last ten minutes.

“No, not yet.”

He watches her read through the menu, though they both know she will order the same thing she always gets, no matter where they eat. The waitress comes and takes their order and when she’s gone they are finally focusing on each other.

Meeting up has been harder since they finished college two years ago, even though they live in the same city. Harry has been working at a label the past year and Y/N secured a great position at a firm after graduation, so they both have been quite busy.

Especially Y/N, because her and Oscar moved in together after school was over. They’ve been dating for almost two years then, so it was a logical move, but it didn’t make it easier on Harry, who’s been silently suffering since that stupid speed dating event he will forever regret asking Y/N to go to, because her and Oscar have been together for almost four years now, happier than ever, twisting the knife in his chest every time he has to see her being happy with someone else.

“Ah, it’s been such a crazy week,” she sighs, leaning back in her seat.

“Want to rant about it?” Harry smiles at her softly.

“Well…” Her lips curl upwards as she takes a deep breath before peeking up at him. “It’s not really something I want to rant about, because… It’s quite good news.”

Harry is just about to ask her to elaborate when she holds up her hand in front of him and it takes him a couple of seconds to put the picture together. But when it finally sinks in, he almost throws up.

There’s a shiny diamond ring sitting on her ring finger and the cheesiest smile is stretched across her face behind it. She wiggles her fingers as Harry’s lips part while he silently fights for his life to hold his not too uplifting feelings and thoughts bottled up. He succeeds, because she doesn’t realize just how much he is struggling.

“It happened last weekend, I wanted to tell you right away, but I also wanted to tell you in person,” she enthuses, turning her hand so the ring is now facing her, the beaming smile should make Harry happy, but he can taste the awful bitterness again he’s been swallowing back for so long.

She goes on to tell him every detail about the proposal, how romantic it was, from what Harry hears it was just how she imagined, but he is still frozen in shock, his eyes glued to the diamond on her finger.

“So, now I’m a bride!” She finishes her speech, but as she looks at Harry her face falls. “Oh my God, I’m such an asshole!” She covers mouth and Harry’s stomach drops, thinking that his expression gave him away. “I’m telling you about my engagement when you are probably still not over the whole Wren thing.”

Wren? He almost asks her who Wren is, but he realizes that she is talking about the last girl he dated. Things ended a few weeks ago, but he already forgot about it, because it was the same as before. He couldn’t bear being with someone who wasn’t Y/N.

“Ah, no, no…” he manages to speak up finally, gulping harshly. “It’s fine. And… congrats!” The smile on his face would probably not fool her, but she is too lost in her pink clouds.

“Thank you! And there is one more thing. It will sound stupid,” she giggles, before continuing, “I don’t really have any girl best friends, I’ll have just a few bridesmaids, but… I want you to be my maid of honor?”

Harry is staring back at her with parted lips, her words playing in his mind on repeat.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but Harry, you are my best friend and I want you there, by my side. So, what do you say?”

Blinking, he fights the part of him that wants to stand up and walk away. Because she is asking him to watch her marry someone from the front line, to assist her on her big day when he has imagined himself being the man she would one day walk down the aisle to. But now this image will be different and ruined forever, because she is marrying someone else.

For a moment he is back at the speed dating event. He thinks about how he should have just told her how he felt instead of that ridiculous plan that brought her together with Oscar. Maybe she would have rejected him, but at least he could say that he tried. Now he has to put up with the pain of his heart breaking over and over again, all because he couldn’t man up and tell her he’d been in love with her.

Exhaling slowly he licks his lips before nodding his head.

“Yeah. Sure. I’m happy to… I’m happy for you. I’ll be there for you.”

Harry had nothing against weddings. Up until it was the wedding of the woman he loved and he wasn’t the groom.

As Y/N’s man of honor he couldn’t exclude himself from the planning process. Choosing decoration, cake tasting…. dress shopping… he suffered through it all while he had to come to terms with his unpleasant fate.

Now it’s the night before the big day. The wedding is held in a botanical garden, there’s a small hotel connected to it, that’s where the guests are staying. It’s the perfect venue for the perfect wedding.

Y/N is in her suit with her bridesmaids while Harry is in his own room. His suit is hanging on the door of the closet next to his bed, haunting him about what he will have to witness tomorrow with a smile on his face. He already thought of ways to get himself out of it, but he knows there’s no excuse good enough to miss Y/N’s wedding.

His phone chimes on the nightstand with a text and when he looks at the screen Y/N’s name appears in the notification bar.

Y/N: come overrrr maid of honor!!

Then another text follows.

Y/N: we have champagne and I need my best friend here!!!

His thumbs linger over the keyboard, trying to come up with a reply, but then she keeps texting him, begging him to go over and he breaks. With a groan he puts on a hoodie and grabbing his keycard he heads down the hall to her suit.

What welcomes him there is exactly what he was expecting. It’s like a sleepover, the bridesmaids are drinking and dancing around, Y/N is wearing a cheap veil on her head that’s attached to a tiara, wearing matching PJ’s with the rest of the girls.

“Harry!” she beams when he is pulled into the suit by two girls, right into the middle of their little party.

Y/N runs across the room and hugs him, she almost loses her balance, but he catches and steadies her with an arm around her waist.

“How much champagne have you had?” he breathes out a short chuckle.

“Just a little,” she giggles. “Hey, I want to talk to you about something, come on.”

She takes his hand and pulls her into the bedroom, closing the door to have some privacy from the laughter and music outside. Her wedding dress is laid out on an armchair in the corner of the room, an open, pink suitcase by the bed, clothes flowing out of it. Her presence is all over the room and he wishes he could see these traces in his own home too.

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches her grab a lip balm from her bag. She applies it and then keeps it in her hands, playing, fidgeting with it.

“You seem worried,” he voices his thoughts.

“No, I’m…” She sighs, looking up at him. “It’s natural, right?”

“What is?”

“That… I’m scared.”

“Of marrying him?”

“No, just generally. It’s a big step,” she shrugs. “I always dreamed of my wedding and now it’s all happening, I’m just… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking a lot, but it’s all part of the ride, right?”

She is trying her best to sound calm and collected, but Harry knows her better than anyone and can see through the mask. He knows she is having doubts and though these thoughts could be normal, Y/N is never one to doubt her decisions, so her current fears are definitely raising his concerns.

And his hopes as well.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” Y/N just shrugs. “Did Oscar do something to make you question it all?”

“No,” she chuckles, but it’s more bitter than genuine. “He is amazing, really.”

The stinging feeling returns in Harry’s chest, but he just keeps listening to her.

“I just… I don’t know, sometimes I question if we were meant to be. It’s all been so easy and convenient and maybe it’s just all the books and movies, but I imagined… more.”

It’s like the tiniest light is now forcing its way through the dark, thick walls Harry has built up around him, a glimmer of hope that maybe he still has a chance to make it right, that he hasn’t missed his chance.

“Don’t marry him then,” he says, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What?” she chuckles.

“If you’re not sure, then don’t marry him.”

“Harry, I won’t call the wedding off. I love him.”

She turns away, but not before he could catch the look of doubt in her eyes, crystal clear, telling him this is the moment he missed all those years ago.

He stands up from the bed and there’s a second when he almost changes his mind, but he has to do it or he might lose his mind forever.

“I love you, Y/N.”

She stills, her back facing him.

“I love you too Harry,” she says. “You’re my best friend.”

“But I’m in love with you.”

She doesn’t answer for so long he starts to think she didn’t even hear him, but then she slowly turns around with an unreadable look on her face and he decides to continue.

“I’ve… been in love with you for so long, I don’t even remember what it’s like not to love you. I know it’s not ideal to tell you this right now, but I feel like if you’re questioning whether you should marry Oscar or not, it might… that maybe you’re…”

She’s still silent, just staring back at him, not giving away any emotion or thought.

“Y/N, you can still call it off. I-I will be by your side and if you want to try and—”

“Stop.”

“I know it’s scary, but I love you and I would do anything–”

“Harry, stop!” she raises her voice and it finally gets him to stop talking. Clenching his jaw he takes a step backwards.

Y/N exhales shakily, Harry is still unsure what she is thinking and the words are begging to keep bubbling from his mouth now that he started talking, but he swallows them down. Shaking her head she takes a step closer to him.

“You… Harry, I…” She is trying to find the words and Harry starts talking again, but he is cut off rather fast.

“I swear we–”

“You have the nerve to pour all of this onto me on the night before my wedding? Right after I tell you about my deepest fear?”

Now it’s clear to him. She is mad, her eyes are throwing flames, but he’s confused, this is not what he was expecting.

“Y/N, I just–”

“You just thought that choosing this vulnerable moment was the perfect timing to tell me you’ve been in love with me all this time?! What were you expecting, huh? That I would throw myself into your arms giggling and confess my love? Call my wedding off?”

“I-I’m… I don’t…”

“I can’t believe you! Get the hell out of here!” Turning around she wraps her arms around herself, breathing heavily. Harry reaches out and touches her shoulder, but she jerks away instantly. “Get out!” she screams. “And don’t even think about showing up tomorrow!”

Harry is in shock, denial, completely destroyed as he stares at the back of her head. He wants to beg for her to forgive him, to forget everything he said. He would rather suffer by her side than lose her, but he knows he has no choice now.

He walks over to the door, looks back one more time, but she is still turned away, her body shaking. He opens the door, the music floods into the room from outside and he walks out without a word.

He returns to his room, packs all of his stuff and under the shining stars, he drives away, barely seeing the road through his tears.

Anne’s backyard looks magical this time of the year. The blooming flowers, the bright green grass, it’s a beautiful scenery and Harry would love to bask in it normally, but now he is just blankly staring ahead of him.

It’s been a week since he confessed his love for Y/N at the worst possible moment and lost her forever. He has no idea who ended up being her maid of honor after his departure, he turned his phone off and hasn’t turned it on since. He would rather claw his eyes out than see all the wedding content from their mutual friends. He’s been hiding at his mum’s since then.

“Tea?” Anne’s chirpy voice asks from the sliding doors.

“No thank you,” he answers. Anne sighs and he hears her footsteps, but he doesn’t look her way.

“You know you can’t hide here forever, right?”

“If you want me out of here just tell me that.”

“You know I love having you here as long as you want, but you’ll have to face reality at one point.”

“I’m hiding for a bit more, thanks.”

Anne sighs again and Harry hopes she would just let him be, but also knows she likes to say what’s on her mind.

“You know she was mad at the timing and not your feelings, right?”

“Mum…”

“Y/N loves you, romantically or not, she loves you. She might have to get over how you chose the worst possible moment to tell her you love her, but she will come around. And when it happens, you better not still be a mess.”

The sliding doors close behind her and he is left alone with his thoughts again. He hates how right she is, but it still hurts.

Groaning he marches up to his room and digs his phone out from the depth of his suitcase. Turning it on the notifications start flooding in, texts, emails, voicemails, he is skipping most of them until his eyes catch one particular thing. Then another and he slowly starts to put the picture together and he fears he is about to have a heart attack.

The wedding never happened. Y/N didn’t marry Oscar.

He drops his phone as if it was on fire and starts packing right away. He needs to get to the bottom of this, he needs to know if it was because of his confession. Even if she screams and cusses him out, he needs to find answers. What’s the worst that could happen? He is already on the floor, there’s only up from here.

How is it that no one knows where she is?

Harry has been trying to track her down since he arrived back from the UK, going from one friend to the other, but no one knows where she’s been hiding since the catastrophic almost-wedding. Everyone is saying the same thing? she packed her stuff from the place she’d been sharing with Oscar, left and no one has seen her since. She just sent a few texts to her parents to let them know she’s alright, but that’s all.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath as he heads back to his home, completely lost about where she could be.

He is trying to come up with other ideas as he is climbing the stairs up to his apartment. He slides the key into the lock, too deep in his thoughts to realize that it’s unlocked at first, but when he does, he freezes, then practically runs inside.

He spots the familiar pink suitcase first, then hears the footsteps and a few moments later Y/N appears down the hallway.

He is trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out his mouth as he is slowly walking closer to her.

“I still had your spare keys,” she says quietly. The anger he last saw from her is now gone, she looks so small and broken and all he wants to do is wrap her in his arms and never let her go. But he knows they need to talk first.

“Have you been here all along?”

“Yeah. I promise I didn’t read your diary.” She cracked a joke, but her weak laugh doesn’t fool him.

“It’s fine. How… How are you? I know you didn’t…”

“I didn’t marry Oscar? Yeah. And I feel like shit.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have told you then, I was an idiot, you were right. I chose the worst moment, used your vulnerability and tried to use it to my advantage. I am so sorry.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Of course I regret. My timing was incredibly awful and disrespectfu–”

“No, not the timing. That you… That you told me.”

He clenches his jaw, thinking of what to say, but he decides he needs to be honest with her and with himself as well.

“I don’t regret telling you. I’ve been keeping it a secret for a very long time and it needed to be said. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, let alone… consider giving me a chance, but I just want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Was there any other moment when you wanted to tell me before?”

“The speed dating event,” he answers right away. “I had this ridiculous plan that you would find me the best match and I would… finally tell you how I’d been feeling. But then…”

“Oscar,” she breathes out.

“Yeah, Oscar happened,” he smiles bitterly.

She closes her eyes and he wishes he could read her mind, but he is just waiting patiently for her to process everything. Then she looks at him and finally starts talking.

“I thought you wanted to go there to pick up someone. I didn’t want to go, because I didn’t want to see you flirt with other girls.”

“What?” he whispers.

“I told myself I needed to get myself over you, because you’d never want me. Oscar was nice and funny, but… deep down I always kept comparing him to you. I hated myself for that, because he was so amazing, so caring and loving, but… not you.”

Tears start rolling down her cheeks and he can feel his throat closing up as well.

“I was so mad at you that night. You let me… go through with all that just to tell me you’ve always loved me the night before my wedding. I was angry and I felt like I was played with.”

“That was never my intention.”

“I know,” she nods. “When I calmed down I knew I couldn’t get married to Oscar. I went over to your room in the morning, but it was empty. I wanted to go after you, but I also needed some time to think.”

“And… where are you standing right now?” he asks as he walks over to her, but he’s still not touching her, giving her the chance to move back.

She never does.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/N, I will never stop loving you.”

“Okay, good,” she breathes out. “Because love you too and if you–”

She doesn’t get to finish, he grabs her and kisses her like he should have all these years ago, like he wants to erase all the bad, the almost-wedding, the suffering, the miscommunication, nothing matters now that they finally met each other at the right time and place.

“Isn’t it funny?” she breathes out against his lips.

“What is?”

“That you wanted to tell me you love me at a speed dating event, but it took you the longest fucking time to actually confess. It was anything, but speedy.”

He can’t help but laugh, because she is right, it’s comical.

“Don’t they say good things take time?”

“Mhm, sure,” she grins, pulling him down for another kiss.

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

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 30 days

Text

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.

And that person is music producer, Y/N.

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting.

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing.

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one.

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

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 1 month

Text

How Do I Get You Alone? 2

Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss

Part one

Masterlist

“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.

“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.

“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.

“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.

“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.

“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.

“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”

“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”

“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.

“What was that?”

“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.

“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.

“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.

“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”

“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.

“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.

“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.

“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.

“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.

“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.

“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.

“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.

“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.

“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.

“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.

“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.

“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”

“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.

“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.

“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.

“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.

“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.

“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.

“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.

“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.

“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”

“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.

“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.

“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.

“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.

“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”

“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.

“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”

“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.

“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”

“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.

“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”

“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.

“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.

“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”

“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.

“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.

“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.

“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.

“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.

“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.

“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.

“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.

“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.

“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.

“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.

“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”

“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”

“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”

“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”

“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”

“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”

“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.

“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.

“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.

“You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.

“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.

“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.

“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”

“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.

“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.

“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.

“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.

“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.

“You liked me?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.

“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.

“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”

“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.

“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.

“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.

“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”

Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”

“Why?”

“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.

“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.

“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.

“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.

“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”

“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.

“He does?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”

“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.

“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.

“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.

A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”

“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.

“What are you listening to?” You asked him.

“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.

“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.

“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”

“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”

“I did, actually.”

“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.

“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.

“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”

“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.

“What Ben Alfeck movie?”

“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.

“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”

“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.

“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”

Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.

“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.

“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.

“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”

“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.

“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.

“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”

“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.

“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”

“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.

“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”

“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.

“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.

“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”

“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”

“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.

“Cherry?” You asked him.

“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”

“I thought so.” You chuckled.

“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.

“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”

“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.

“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @itsemohours @preeyansha

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 1 month

Text

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

55K notes · View notes

secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 1 month

Text

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 2 months

Text

uncle harry

gif by @kiwikiwiandkiwi <3

im so soft rn, enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The phone ringing in the middle of the night meant bad news most of the times.

However, when you and Harry were woken up by the sound of his ringtone, his mum on the other line frantically saying "It's time! The baby is coming!", you couldn't be happier.

Gemma broke the news that she was expecting a few months ago and Harry was man enough to admit that he cried a waterfall, not being able to contain his happiness over becoming an uncle.

And you were absolutely melted at the sight of him being excited about it, every single time he went out, he would come back with stuff for the baby, he face-timed his sister every night and overall he couldn't stop talking about being an uncle.

When Harry found out that he was going to have a niece, his excitement reached a whole new level. He started planning everything, from what he would teach her to the tattoo he would get for her once she was born, and once again, it made your heart burst to see your boyfriend so excited.

So now you headed to the hospital, ready to meet the brand new addition to the Styles family.

"I'm so excited," Harry said as he drove through the streets of London, holding your hand, "I can'y believe Gemma is a mummy now, feels like just yesterday we were pulling each other's hair and arguing over the last piece of cheesecake."

You smiled at him, kissing his knuckles softly and placing your intertwined hands on your thigh, "Feels like just yesterday I met her for the first time at your show, I was so nervous!"

"You really were, lovie," he smiled at the memory, "And you ended up becoming inseparable."

"What can I say? She's the cooler Styles."

Harry gave you a side eye and then laughed along with you, the rest of the drive was quiet and soon enough you were pulling up to the hospital where a few family members already stopped by to meet the little bundle of joy.

"Are you ready to meet your niece?" you turned to look at him as you unbuckled your seat belt, noticing that he had small tears in his eyes, "H? Baby are you crying?" you grabbed his chin and couldn't help but smile tenderly when he looked at you with watery eyes, "Oh my gosh, you're too adorable."

"I just, I can't believe I'm about to meet my sister's baby, that's insane."

You kissed his lips shortly, grabbing his face with both of your hands when you pulled away.

"She's already so lucky to have the best uncle in the world," you pecked his lips again, "Now let's go, I'm eager to meet her too."

You and Harry entered the hospital, hand in hand, ready to meet the newest member of the Styles family. As you approached Gemma's room, you could hear the sounds of laughter and joy coming from inside.

When you walked in, you were greeted by a room full of close family members, the room was pretty spacious and had a spare area where visitors could hang around without disturbing Gemma and the baby. Anne immediately approached both of you, happiness radiating from her eyes.

"You made it!" she said as she hugged you, turning to Harry when you pulled away, "H, baby! I'm a grandmother!"

"And I'm an uncle! Holy shit!"

You melted at the interaction, over the years the Styles-Twist family had taken you as one of their own and you were happy to be present for important moments like this.

"How is Gem? Is she awake? Can we see the baby now?" Harry eagerly asked after hugging his mom.

"She is fine, doing amazing," Anne said proudly, "Michal is inside with her, let's go."

Anne guided you to the door that lead to Gemma's private room, Harry squeezed your hand and you walked next to him, excitement evident on his every step.

Anne opened the door, peeking her head inside, "Your brother is here."

You and Harry walked in, Gemma was lying on the bed looking tired but happy nevertheless, a tiny head peeking from the blanket on her arms.

"About damn time, I was about to pick a different godfather for her if he didn't show up soon," Gemma sassed, making Harry turn his head back in laughter.

"Dammit, you're really a mum now," he approached his sister, you decided to stay back with Anne, "The bloke your brought to my concert years ago really was the one huh? Who would've thought."

"What can I say, mate? You trying to sabotage our date was kind of our blessing." Michal chimed in, standing next to Harry and patting his back.

"Congratulations, mate. I can't think of a better guy for my sister." Harry said as he hugged him, everyone looking at the scene tenderly.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to hold your niece now?" Gemma wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, holding out her arms to him.

Harry took the baby into his arms, his face lighting up with pure joy. He cradled her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hello, beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm your Uncle Harry, and I already love you so much."

You felt your eyes get watery at the sight, Harry looked up at you and urged you to come closer to him and the baby.

"This is your auntie," he cooed to the baby again once you were standing next to him, "She's the coolest ever and makes the best pancakes, you're going to absolutely love her just like I do."

"She's gorgeous," you said as you looked at the baby's face, "Congratulations, Gem."

"Thank you," Gemma said softly, a tired smile on her face but her eyes shining with gratitude.

"Just so you know," Harry looked at Gemma with a serious face, "She's not allowed to have any boyfriends until she's like 30."

Michal laughed and agreed with Harry, you rolled your eyes at him and Gemma shook her head.

"Uncle overprotective, that's what you are," Gemma said, a yawn coming out of her mouth right after, "I can't even imagine how is it going to be when you have your own kid."

You felt butterflies in your stomach at this, Harry giving you a small smile and winking at you.

"Let me put a ring on her finger first please," he turned to look at Gemma, "Because unlike you, sister, I'm not having children out of wedlock."

"Come on, now!" Michal protested, making the entire room laugh.

Hours passed and Harry was glued to the baby, babbling nonsense to her and cooing at every little thing she did. Eventually Gemma drifted off to sleep and that was everyone's cue to leave and let both her and the baby rest.

"I'm so happy right now," Harry said as you drove back to your house, "I feel so happy for Gemma, and for our family."

"She's going to be the best mum ever," you looked away from the window to face him, "And you're going to be the best uncle."

"Thank you for being here with me today, for sharing this moment with me. I love you."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I'm so happy for you, for all of us. Today was perfect."

"And I meant what I said back there, I'm not letting her have a boyfriend until she's 30."

"Whatever you say, uncle overprotective!"

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 3 months

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for the record i think that most tv show revivals are pathetic cashgrabs capitalizing on nostalgia but if house md got a hypothetical revival in the form of a made for tv movie where cuddy’s daughter comes in to princeton-plainsboro (last resort) with some mysterious untreatable disease and chase (head of diagnostics) just cannot figure it out, to the point where he stoops so low as to return to catholicism and starts loudly praying in the hospital chapel for house to communicate with him from the beyond. wilson overhears this because who wouldn’t overhear a weeping australian man begging for his old boss back (and also the set is like, three hallways) and he’s like. “man.” and then later chase is doing differentials with taub and park and also cameron and foreman are there for some reason. and then there’s an argument and everybody leaves, and chase is alone. and in his moment of weakness he looks up and sees house. standing there in his office. and chase has been sleep deprived trying to figure out what’s wrong with cuddy’s daughter so he’s just like. “wow. i’m hallucinating house. better take advantage of this” and then he and the hallucination of house figure out what’s wrong and house only insults him 33 times and chase leaves his office like “i know what to do!” and foreman is like “when did you last sleep” and chase says “i don’t know” and foreman is like “this vexes me.” but he still lets chase perform the surgery because this is the medical malpractice show. and then cuddy’s daughter is safe and can go back to playing soccer or whatever well adjusted teenagers do these days and everything is fine. and then house shows up in the room again after everyone leaves and chase is like wow i need to sleep i am still hallucinating and house is like. “no, you absolute moron. wilson told me you needed help for an important patient so i came back.” and chase is like “very typical of you to fake your own death” and house is like “yeah i spent four years in guatemala as dr. la casa and then i had to come back to the states for tax reasons” and chase is like “you’ve been here in new jersey for eight years?” and house says “it’s a lot easier to file jointly on the same continent” and chase is like “wait what?” and house just casually drops that he’s been gay married to wilson for the past seven years and wilson literally still pretends he’s dead at work even though house is just sitting on their living room couch playing ssx3 all day

i would be okay with that

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 4 months

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Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

Tag list 🏷️

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

838 notes · View notes

secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

Text

cherry | h.s.

harry styles x famous!reader

warnings: sad? it's a rollercoaster

summary: how 'cherry' came to be

wc: 2.5k

a/n: can be read w/ baby or on its own

are we rlly surprised abt this? look at my user;)

'Don't you call him baby.'

Harry sat on his plush couch, telly on volume 11 as interviews from The Emmys went live.

"Here we have Y/N Y/L/N! Looking as gorgeous as ever! How are you?" the man asked as he kissed both of your cheeks.

Harry had to agree with the man. You were a stunning picture in a skintight iridescent gown that somehow left little and just enough to the imagination at the same time. The dainty silver accents adorning your ears and wrists, chest bare with a slight shimmer of something that wasn't sweat or glitter, but just pure radiance in Harry's eyes.

You adjusted your stance before answering, "Good, good. And yourself?"

"Fantastic! I hear you're nominated for three awards tonight! Congratulations! How do you feel about all of that?" Harry wasn't surprised by your achievements seeing as he kept his tabs on you ever since the breakup.

You nodded with a timid smile, "I am, yes. It's all a little nerve wracking if I'm being honest with you."

The man grinned before it looked like his attention had been stolen by someone else, "Oh look, there we have your knight in shining armour!"

The camera panned to Tom Holland walking in your direction. Harry forced himself to watch as Tom came to stand beside you and kissed your cheek with an arm around your waist. Even with the microphone being unable to pick up your voices, your small interaction could be read off your lips.

"Hello, darling." Tom's lips moved as he winked.

"Hi, baby." your smile was warm as you spoke.

Harry abruptly turned off his telly at that moment. Memories of that name being used to address him flooded his brain. He threw his head back against the cushions and let the sting wash over him. It'd been a little less than a year since you guys called it quits, but the wounds still bled.

'We're not talking lately.'

"Do you remember that promise we made?" you asked as Harry rested his forehead against your knees while your fingers ran through his hair.

You felt him nod as a tear rolled down your cheek for the hundredth time. "We'd always stay friends and support each other even if we don't last." he replied from below you on his knees while you were sat on the couch.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Can I adjust that promise?"

His movements seize the second the question left your lips. He lifted his head and met your glossy gaze with an equally bloodshot one.

"What do you mean?" his voice quivered in a way that made your heart shatter.

You slid your thumb along his cheekbone, "We need time apart to move on, ange. No communication while we deal with this. We can still support each other and love each other, but we need space in order to let each other go. Wouldn't you agree?"

Harry pondered on it for a moment before slightly nodding, "I guess so."

Neither of you said a word after that, just continuing to hold each other until the morning light came in and reminded you that everything still moves on even if you haven't.

'Don't you call him what you used to call me.'

July 23rd 2017:

"Baby, can you grab my purse for me, please?" you semi-shouted from the bottom of the stairs in your home.

Not a minute later, Harry came waltzing down towards you, "I wasn't sure which one you wanted today, so I took it upon myself to choose this one." he held up the Prada shoulder purse with a proud smile.

October 17th 2017:

"No." you deadpanned, but at his immediate frown you continued "Baby, I'm not dressing up as a socket so you can be the plug." you laughed incredulously at his suggestion.

Harry threw his hands in the air, "Come on! That would be the best costume ever!"

December 25th 2017:

"Happy Christmas, baby." you smiled at the man on your phone screen.

His lips turned down into a frown that somehow still looked like a smile, "Happy Christmas, darling. Wish we were together today."

January 1st 2018:

"Happy new year!" Harry screamed along with the room before turning to his love, "No one else I'd rather enter the year with." he smiled softly at you before meeting your lips with a kiss.

Confetti fell around you, champagne broke through the cheers with a 'pop' and yet, to you, it was silent, and there was no one there but him.

You broke apart still grinning, "Happy new year, baby."

'I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best. I'm selfish so I'm hating it.'

"And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to...!" Kevin Hart unfolded the envelope and immediately broke into a wide grin, "Y/N Y/L/N!"

The applause was immediate and deafening. You barely registered the first syllable of your name being called as everyone around you began to congratulate you and shower you with hugs.

You slowly made your way to the stage, being careful to not trip. You greeted Kevin with a hug as he handed you the award and your hands shook. As you stood in front of the mic, your mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I-I- what?" you finally managed to sputter out as everyone chuckled.

You managed to get your wits about you and began to give out your thanks, while failing to notice the man in the audience who was holding back tears for you.

Jeff leaned over to Harry, "I know this is tough, but there will be cameras on you. Be careful of your expressions." he whispered as Harry momentarily shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Harry managed to plaster on a faux smile that would fool anyone else except you. He was ashamed of himself; he should be happy for you, he should've been on his feet cheering for you. But he couldn't. He refused to do that from 12 rows away when he should've been sat beside you. The smile on your face, the glow in your skin. All of it was something he hadn't seen since you were together and seeing it now only brought pain and sorrow to him.

He wished he had stayed home, but Jeff had convinced him that moping around in his home was only fuelling the rumours surrounding your break up, so he watched as you took your seat again and only when the next category was being announced did he excuse himself to the washroom and let the tears flow.

'I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress. Take it as a compliment.'

"Darling!" Harry's voice came booming from your temporarily shared home.

You sat on the couch in the living room and threw your head back, "Yes?!"

"Where's your striped jumper?!" he replied from your walk in closet.

You chose not to reply and instead left your seat to see what chaos he had caused. Upon entering your closet, there were piles of clothes on the floor and shoes tossed in every direction.

You chuckled, "What is going on?"

Harry's head snapped towards you, "I have an interview in 30 minutes and I need that jumper. Please, darling, help." he pouted at you.

You laughed a little more before walking out of the closet and pulling the sweater from a chair next to your bed. You cleared your throat while dangling the sweater from your finger and smirked, "Really should wear your glasses more often."

He covered his face with his hands as he realized he made a mess for no reason. As he took the jumper from your hands with a kiss to your lips and a thank you, you spoke again with a smile, "And get your own clothes."

"Why do that when I have you?" he grinned, "And don't touch any of the mess. I will clean it when I get back." his tone was serious but you struggled to hold in your laugh.

"I'll ju-"

"-No. Pinky promise you won't clean any of it." he held out his pinky with a raised brow.

You rolled your eyes before locking your finger with his. "Fine." the metal of the ruby ring on his finger that used to be yours was cold on your skin

He smiled as he kissed the place where your fingers interlocked and dashed out of the room with one last warning, "You pinky promised! No breaking it!"

"I, I just miss. I just miss your accent and your friends."

"Okay, Your Majesty." Harry mocked your RP accent for the thousandth time as you sat at Beachwood Cafe with Mitch, Sarah, Hazel and Max.

You gasped, "Would you stop that?! I do not sound like the Queen."

He was about to argue before Mitch chimed in, "Sorry, Y/L/N, but you kind of do." he giggled as he spoke.

Your jaw dropped as Harry started to laugh, "This is so unfair. I introduced you guys! You were my friends first! You're supposed to be on my side!"

They all started laughing together at your outburst as you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

"Did you know I still talk to them?"

Hazel was escorted to Harry's dressing room before his show in Vancouver while Max was in charge of finding parking.

Since it was her's and Max's hometown, Harry offered them tickets and backstage entry. It took a lot of debating with himself before he sent the text to Hazel, but his reasoning ultimately came down to not wanting to lose two friendships due to one relationship.

She took a moment to pause before knocking, and sighed a little when Harry looked up through the mirror with red, glassy eyes.

"What's going on, H?" she spoke softly as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Harry fully turned his chair around and felt his shoulders deflate, "Just miss her." he rolled his lips in between his teeth as a few tears managed to escape.

Hazel's heart fractured a bit in that moment as her phone started buzzing in her pocket with a call from you, "It's Y/N. Give me a minu-"

"-No. Please. I won't say anything. Can you put it on speaker?" he begged and although Hazel knew it was a bad idea she sighed before answering your call and following his request.

"Hey, Y/N/N!"

"Hi, are you at the show?" your voice ran through the room and Harry subconsciously leaned towards to the phone as if it would bring him closer to you.

Hazel suppressed a sigh from watching Harry before replying, "Yeah! It was really nice of him to invite us. What are you up to?"

"About to catch a flight to LA. Just wanted to make sure you got there safe." you laughed lightly through your lie and Harry's eyes automatically shut, trying to savour the sweet sound.

Hazel could hear your lie in your voice, but chose not to address it, "Yeah, Max is just finding parking right now. Why are you going to LA?"

Harry fought the urge to answer her question, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to know the answer.

You sighed slightly, "House hunting. Can't stay at Harry's anymore, so time to find my own place there."

Hazel nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see her before replying, "Oh. I see. Have you talked to H at all?"

Harry's head snapped up at his name being brought into the conversation.

"No, it's best if I don't." a mans voice was heard in the background before you spoke again, "Well, we're about to take off now. If you see him, wish him luck for me, will you?" your sadness was evident throughout your words.

Harry buried his head in his hands again as more tears escaped while Hazel replied, "Of course. Have a safe flight, Y/N/N. Love you, miss you."

"Thanks, love you and miss you too. Bye!" you blew a kiss into the phone before the dial tone was heard.

And for a moment, with his eyes shut, Harry allowed himself to imagine that those words were meant for his ears only.

"Does he take you walking 'round his parents gallery?"

"Hey, Haz," Tyler spoke up from the silence of the recording studio. They had just finished a long session and the rest of the team had already departed for the night, leaving Harry, Sammy and Tyler. "There's a new gallery opening on Saturday. Only there for a few nights. You wanna come with me and Sammy?"

Harry slowly turned in the spinning chair, "Sure. Whose gallery?" he bit into an apple as he finished speaking.

"Nikki Holland? Don't know who she is, but she's got some sick photos on Instagram." Tyler shrugged not noticing how Harry nearly choked on his fruit.

"Holland? As in Tom Holland's mum? Tom Holland as in Y/N's boyfriend, Tom Holland?" Sammy's eyes widened before he pulled out his own phone and went to Tom's instagram page. And sure enough, there was a post and a story of him promoting his mum's new gallery opening. "Just answered my own question." he rolled his lips between his teeth before chancing a glance at Harry.

Harry stared blankly at the floor before clearing his throat, "Probably not the best idea for me to show up there." he paused at their somber expressions, "Honestly, it's fine." he laughed lightly.

"Nah, we won't go either. Probably start rumours if we-"

"-Wait." Harry abruptly announced before reaching for the acoustic guitar on his left.

Tyler and Sammy shared a concerned expression with one another while Harry nervously fumbled with the strings of the instrument.

"Let me just- I just need to-" he struggled to find the right words to say, but there was no need.

Tyler shook his head and put his phone down, "Let's write it."

'Coucou!'

"Tu dors?" you frowned when your friend answered your call with a groggy voice.

She laughed lightly through the phone, "Oui. J'étais sur le point d'être."

"Oh, j'suis désolée."

She chuckled, "Ne t'en fais pas. Que s'est-il passé? A-t-il fait une demande en mariage?"

You sighed with a smile, thinking back on the day you spent with the lovely man behind you, "Bah non-"

"Je peux entendre le sourire effrayant dans ta voix. Que s'est-il passé?" she cut you off while mocking you.

You laughed loudly, "Nan, c'est pas important."

"Qu'avez-vous fait alors? Êtes-vous allé à la plage?"

You turned to look at Harry as he played a soft melody on a guitar. His eyes looked up to meet yours and he offered you a small grin that you returned, "Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—"

She cut you off again with a loud laugh, "Allons prendre un verre et discuter. J'ai besoin de voir le sourire effrayant en personne."

You couldn't even deny her accusation. You were at the happiest you could be.

'Parfait! Allez!'

974 notes · View notes

secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

Text

Scared

Note: This is one of my favourite things I’ve ever written. It’s angsty in what I guess is a mild way. It’s about that feeling we get when we can’t enjoy something because we’re scared of it ending. It’s a bit cheesy. 🧀

If you enjoy please like, reblog or send me a message. I just wanna talk about Harry aaaallll day

Word count: ~3k

MASTERLIST

You and Harry have your first argument right before his final show in Italy, about his final show in Italy.

“I’m not going to Italy!”

Harry blinks at you with his lips parted. And you don’t blame him. You are taken aback yourself. Not with what you said, because you’d never planned to follow him to Italy and sit with his family and friends to watch his final show. No. You’re surprised by how firmly you said it, not a hint of hesitation in your tone.

“You’re not going?” Harry finally says, as though he may have misheard you. In case it was the signal interfering with your FaceTime call.

“Harry. No,” you sigh. “That was never the plan.”

You start hooking your earrings in, looking over the phone propped up on your mirror. You need to get ready to go out, and you also can’t look directly at Harry right now.

“Is this because I didn’t ask?” He says. “I’m sorry. I’m working on that. But I really want you there.”

“It’s not about that, Harry. I know you are,” you say, because he is trying. Since you started dating (recently, oh so recently) Harry has learnt you are not someone who wants to be swept off your feet with grand gestures and whisked around the world on his expense. You need control. You need baby steps. You need careful reassurance.

“Do you not want to be there?” He asks, his tone sharp enough that you look at his face on the screen. His face doesn’t match the shortness of his voice. He looks…concerned, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Your shows are the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” you say, and do so honestly. “I’ve told you that over and over.”

“Then I’m confused.” He looks it, too. He had only started jabbering about which flight she could get and how he’d make sure someone picked her up from her airport and that his mum was looking forward to seeing her again. You probably should have stopped him sooner but it took a while to work up your nerve. Then it came out like it did.

“I really want you there,” he says, voice gentle, when you haven’t spoken for a while.

You chew your bottom lip. How do you explain this to him?

“I’m so proud of you,” you start, carefully. You pick up a makeup brush to twirl it in your hands, something to do. “I hope you have the best time and I know you will be incredible.”

Harry waits patiently when you pause. He wasn’t lying when he said he was trying with you.

“But,” you continue. “I can’t be there. Not as your girlfriend.”

“I’m not following,” he says, and his voice is tight, like he’s holding something back. “You are my girlfriend. I know it’s early days but you’ve met my family. You’ve spent time with all my friends. You’ve been to my shows before. What’s different now?”

“It’s the last one,” you say. “It’s too important.”

You hear him sigh and watch him rearrange himself where he’s sitting. The background is plain. He could be anywhere, but the lack of background noise let’s you know he’s found somewhere quiet for this. For what he probably thought was going to be a sweet catch up with his new girlfriend. You’d quickly ruined that.

“It is important. And that’s why I need you there.”

You’re already opening your mouth with your prepared response when the word ‘need’ stumps you. It’s a big word, or at least it has big connotations. It sends heat rising to the surface of your skin all over and you don’t have time to process if it’s a good feeling or not.

Harry presses on, seemingly unaware what he just did to you. “I completely respect your choices but I need you to know that it matters to me, and if you can be there, it will mean a lot. This is going to be a night I remember for the rest of my life.”

“But that’s my point, Harry!” You blurt, still feeling hot, a tell-tale sign you’re beginning to panic. “This is one of the biggest nights of your life, your career. And I can’t just be some ex-girlfriend who tagged along.”

A long pause follows.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Harry says, eventually.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just need you to respect my decision on this.”

Harry just looks at you through the phone. You wait, expecting him to press the topic, but he doesn’t, simply nodding and asking where you’re going out to eat with your friends.

Harry brings it up a few times over the next two days. Gentle probing at first, small hints. He talks about the weather in Italy. He sends you a screenshot of his sister asking when she’ll get to see you again. Flowers arrive at your apartment, the card containing a sweet endearment in Italian. You know he’s not trying to pressure you into changing your mind. In fact, he’s doing the opposite. He’s trying to leave the door open for you to change your mind. It’s his way of saying, “I’m ready to talk about it again when you are.”

But you don’t bring it up and time is running out. So finally, speaking on the phone the night before the show, he says, “It’s not too late, you know? There are still flights you could catch in the morning.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. My thoughts are still the same.”

He huffs through his nose. “But why?”

“It’s just how I feel about it.”

“What about how I feel?”

“Harry…”

He grips his hair and leans forward, his face filling the screen. “YN, I don’t want to make this about me, but, I really wanted you to be there. And now you’re not going to be. And it sucks.”

“It will be an incredible night, Harry,” you say, your throat tight. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Harry this frustrated in the few months you’ve known him. He was the epitome of patience.

“I know it will,” he says. “I know it will and that’s why I’m so pissed off. Because this night is the culmination of the last two years of my life and all I can think about is how you aren’t gonna be there with me.”

You’re crying - a few silent tears that you can’t stop.

“It’s better if I’m not.” Your words are barely above a whisper but he hears you. He grunts a noise of frustration.

“YN…” He puts a hand over his eyes. You both stay quiet for a few minutes. You don’t take your eyes off him.

You memorise every bit of his face just in case. In case he hangs up and never answers his phone again. In case he says you’re done. In case the next girl is someone who will follow him everywhere no questions asked.

You’re always preparing for just in case.

Finally, he moves his hand and blinks rapidly, clearing the haze in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s not fair of me to try to change your mind.” You swallow as he continues. He sounds so calm. “Have a good sleep, YN.”

“You too,” you croak. He smiles weakly and that’s the sight that’s stuck in your mind when you lie in bed. You picture his face and think about all you didn’t manage to say. You should have said good luck, told him how special he is, told him you miss him and if you were different you’d already be halfway across the North Sea.

Of course you don’t have a good sleep. You listen to the most recent recording he sent you, a snippet of a song he’s been working on. There are no words but everything about it sounds like Harry. Beautiful and earnest.

The next day you text him, a long message with good lucks and reassurances of how amazing you know he is. How you hope he has fun and you can’t wait to see him. All the things you thought about in the night before you woke up feeling like a wrung out sponge, all out of tears.

He replies, thank you. I can’t wait to see you either

And maybe you aren’t all out of tears, because the brevity of his reply has you crying all over again.

On the days Harry has a show, his answers to your messages have been sporadic, and today is going to be bigger than ever for him, so you shouldn’t take it personally that he doesn’t send you anything else that morning.

The worst is when Harry’s mum sends a message saying she can’t wait to see you and you reply with a casual, oh I won’t be there. I know Harry will be amazing

Her reply is so sweet it feels painful to read.

That’s a shame but I know he will only look forward to seeing you again more. We will dance a little extra for you. x

You don’t know what you expected. Her to be angry? To call you out for not being a supportive girlfriend? Certainly not gentle understanding.

You spend the day at home, as you’d had no plans anyway. You clean a bit, sort laundry. You scroll through social media while you walk circles around the apartment. Milly, a crew member you’d grown close to the few dates you had shown up for Harry, has posted a backstage photo on her story. You’re embarrassed how closely you look for a glimpse of curly brown hair. You don’t find it, but you do send a heart-eyes reaction.

Milly replies, which you’re amazed she has the time to do.

Hear you can’t be here tonight :( is that true?

Yes, sorry. I know it will be amazing

It would be better if you were here. I miss youuu

I’m sure I’ll see you next time!

There may not be a next time. I don’t know what I’ll be doing next time Harry’s touring

Shit. You hadn’t thought of that. The pain in your chest squeezes you again, another burst of something missing.

Oh. That’s really sad. I didn’t think of you not being there next time

In truth you’d been thinking too much about yourself not being there next time.

Milly doesn’t answer for a while, obviously busy, but when she does, you sit down to read it. Your blood creeps cold through your veins as you take it in.

You scroll your contacts and hit call, not even bothering to say hello when someone picks up, instead you say, “I need to get to Italy.”

It is, you realise, the very best decision you could have made. By the time you’ve found and caught a flight, made it from the airport to the venue, dropped your bags backstage and been led to the VIP section, Harry is several songs in. You are rendered breathless for a moment when you see him. He’s glowing. He’s happy. He’s someone you’ve missed more than you could have guessed until you saw him up on that stage and knew you couldn’t touch him yet.

Someone pulls you into a hug. Then someone drags you by the hand to dance and before you know it you’re in a crush of people who love Harry. And that might be exactly where you belong. You’re wearing a comfy and not-at-all fancy dress you wore on the plane and you find you couldn’t care less. You’re there.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice you, and that’s okay. He’s having the time of his life and you can surprise him after. You can tell him how proud you are and it’ll never matter that you weren’t going to be there.

“What’s going on?” You ask, to no one in particular, when Harry leaves the stage. You could sense the rising anticipation around you.

“You’ll see,” Jeff answers.

Some of the crew are moving on the stage, sliding a piano into the centre. Your heart is pounding. There’s still no sign of Harry.

“Where is he?”

“He shouldn’t be long,” Jeff answers, squeezing one arm around your shoulders. But you feel uneasy and after a few minutes you sense he does too.

“I need to go back there,” you say and turn to leave. A member of security guides you and you count the seconds in your head to calm yourself down. You can’t explain it, but you know you need to get to him.

“YN!” Milly is the first crew member to greet you backstage. “You’re here?”

“Where’s Harry?” You know it’s rude. You can’t think straight until you know he’s okay. Milly seems to understand and gestures around the corner.

When you see him, he looks so much smaller than he does on stage. He doesn’t take up much space, sitting on a step and jiggling one leg. His head is hanging down and his delicate features catch the light reflecting from his outfit. From here, his hair doesn’t look perfect, the sweat on his chest seems like it would be uncomfortable. His nose is pink. You notice when he rubs it.

“Harry,” you say as you walk closer, not wanting to sneak up on him.

He blinks up at you like you’re a mirage.

“What are you…? When did you get here?” His voice sounds absolutely wrecked and your own breath catches. You want to change tactics and drag him out of here. Take him somewhere to rest for a hundred days. But you know that’s coming. It's coming and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t finish this the way he’d planned, however that was.

“About an hour ago. I decided I- oh!” He cuts you off by launching himself on you and squeezing tight.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re here.” His voice is muffled in your shoulder. “I’m so, so happy,” is what he says but he’s crying. You know both can be true.

“I’m sorry I took so long to decide.”

“You don’t have to be.”

You’re still hugging. Warmth is flowing out of Harry like he’s the sun and his heart beats so hard you feel as though it’s in your own chest, beating alongside your own but faster, fiercer.

He finally pulls away, holding your wrists in his hands. “I’m scared. I don’t think I can do this. I’m so scared of this being over.”

You smile. There’s no point wiping your tears away yet. “I know how that feels.”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I wanted to come more than I was scared.”

In the distance, the crowd is chanting. Harry glances over his shoulder. You touch his jaw and he looks at you again.

“I came because… even if I never have the chance again, I wanted to show up for you.”

Harry turns his head slightly. His lips touch your thumb. “No matter what happens, I’ll never not want you here.”

You’d love to say something poignant then. Like how much you believe him, and you promise to show up forever. You’re not there yet. But you think maybe one day you could be. With Harry.

“Go tell them what you want to tell them,” you say to him. He squeezes your wrist and turns around. You see the shaky breath he takes in through the shift of his shoulders and back. Then he walks away.

You don’t have time to go back to the crowd to watch, so you stand side stage and have to view him through the instruments and staging and band members. It hardly matters, because you can hear it all and barely see through blurry eyes anyway.

He plays the song he sent you a small snippet of a week ago. He’d asked you to text him your thoughts. Instead you rang him immediately.

“What the fuck is this?” You’d demanded. He giggled.

“What do you mean?”

“This is… this is devastating.”

“In a good way?”

“In an awful, terrible, heart-breaking, beautifully good way, yes.”

“Mission accomplished?”

Then you’d laughed. “You’re a sadist.”

He’d turned serious though, after a few minutes of you teasing him.

“I needed to capture this feeling I’m having.” You hummed to urge him on, just his voice in your dark room. “This inexplicable joy of experiencing something so special, of being able to share it. Of not knowing what comes next but feeling so content about it.”

“Does it have words?”

“Do you think it needs them?”

Part of you wanted to say, let me listen again and think about it, but you already knew the answer

“No. Not really.”

You stand at the side of the stage and listen. The song is much longer than the clip he sent you. You think he can’t quite let go yet. You know he loves hard and holds onto things special to him. You think you’re so lucky to be special to him.

Milly’s message

I guess so. But I don’t think of it like that. Sure, it’s sad that this thing I loved so much is coming to an end. And maybe I’ll never get this opportunity again. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. I wouldn’t exchange a single moment of it, even though I’m so tired and sometimes would rather just stay in bed. There’s another universe where I said no to this and never got to experience the joy of it all. I’ll take feeling a bit sad that it’s over than never getting to have been here at all. Maybe my next job will be even more fun.

Doubt it though x

345 notes · View notes

secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

Text

Bad habit (1)

In which YN is Harry’s daughter’s teacher, and she and Harry used to be friends in college; fluff; angst; dad!harry

Word count: 4.5k

First days of school were always chaotic, and YN, despite having been a teacher for two years of her life now, never got quite used to the tantrums little kids would throw on first days — and maybe the following week, or until they felt confident enough in the school environment that they didn’t miss their parents to the point of crying at the mere thought of them.

September always carried with it a nostalgic feeling that YN loved, and she usually found herself thinking about warm sunny August days spent sunbathing and eating pasta salads. Her teacher salary didn’t allow much room for vacations, but YN managed to always find contentment in the premises of her hometown.

That’s what she’s thinking about when she walks through the school’s doors that Monday morning, waving at a couple of her coworkers to greet them. She usually was far more chatty, but she was feeling fidgety at the thought of meeting her new baby students, and she didn’t trust herself enough to chat with someone; who knows what she could say!

No one truly understands YN, she’s younger than her coworkers and sometimes she feels like no one really cares about what she has to say. It’s been that way since she was a little baby, really, so she’s gotten quite used to it, and she doesn’t feel bad about it.

She often wonders if maybe there’s something wrong with the way she communicates, but her students seem to understand her rather well — as much as little kiddies can understand —, so she always crosses that thought off the list. It doesn’t necessarily have to mean there’s something wrong with her, so she doesn’t know why sometimes she wonders if things would be a little different if she was different in the first place.

She wishes it came a little easier, people never really seem to understand how hard it is to talk. It’s why she loves her job so much. Kids are easy to talk to, because most of the time they don’t remember conversations and they never question her on why she’s being quiet or in her mind, like most of her coworkers do.

The bell rings at 8.30 sharp, and YN tries to put on the most heartwarming smile she knows, because she understands sometimes first days can be though. And not just for kids.

“Hi!” She coos when she sees a little girl walking in her classroom holding her mum’s hand.

“I’m Miss YN, it’s a pleasure to meet you! What’s your name!”

The little girl hides behind her mum’s leg and YN frowns jokingly at her.

“She’s shy… her name’s Amy” the mum says, throwing YN an apologetic look.

“Hi, Amy! It’s okay. I understand shy.” She nods, crouching down on her legs to be at eye level with the small kid, “since you’re the first one, why don’t you choose your desk? Your mummy can help you pick it out?”

The little girl nods her head against her mother’s jeans and YN smiles brightly at her.

With time, more kids start to come in, and YN greets all of them, trying to be as warm as possible. She talks to their parents and lets them stay with their children until they get accustomed to the classroom. Some of them already have friends, and it’s always easier for them to let go of their parents’ hands; for others, it takes a while, and YN tries to be as understanding as possible, especially with them.

When the clock strikes 9 am, only one chair is empty, and she wonders if maybe the school had mistaken the number of students who’d come in. She’s about to introduce herself to the class of small kids that are looking at her with bright eyes and shy smiles, when she hears a knock on the opened door, her body turning quickly at the sound.

She feels lightheaded as she takes in the image in front of her, and she grimaces in surprise. It’s Harry. The Harry.

Many years have passed since the last time she saw him, but she knows she’d recognize him everywhere and in anytime.

He was three years older than her and used to hang out with her group. They attended the same creative writing class and she remembers how his knee used to brush against her thigh when he would fidget in his chair, readjusting his body as he cussed at the uncomfortableness of the wooden chairs.

She remembers how he always used to ask her for pens, sometimes for a spare sheet of paper or if he could borrow her laptop’s charger because “fuckin’ hell, — he would say, and YN would blush a little at the way he would close the space between them, reaching a hand to grab for the charger — mine's completely gone ’n all m’work’s in there! Days worth o’work!”

He’s standing against the doorway, his body leaning against it, holding a pouty little kid on his opposite hip.

He looks the same, a bit older, maybe, his hair less disheveled and his clothes more serious — he’s wearing grey tailored pants and a sweater vest with cherry blossom flowers on it, he lost the skinny jeans and his adored Chelsea boots, but it’s definitely still that guy she used to have a crush on all those years ago.

“YN?” Harry questions, tilting his head to the side in surprise. YN notices as the little girl in his hold buries her face in his neck, trying to hide from the attention.

“’s me, Harry! Y’remember, right? From college!” YN blushes a little at his words and tries to regain control of her body as she seems stuck to the linoleum floor.

She’s a little taken a back at his remark; he thought she wouldn’t remember him! How would that even be possible, YN doesn’t know.

His voice hasn’t changed, it’s still the same scruffy and deep voice she used to blush upon hearing, and she remembers vaguely that one time on one of their usual hang outs, when he picked up a guitar and started singing, a little drunk on cheap beer, and she remembers wondering how his voice would sound whispering tender words in her ear…

“Of course I remember!” She smiles, trying to hide her nervousness, “of course!” She repeats, and, deep within her, she really hopes she’s coming across as cool and not as that completely shy and weird girl who used to have tons of pens and a crush on her older classmate who seemed to always steal them.

“The world really is small, huh?” He remarks, a cheeky grin spreading across his mouth.

“Yeah” she breaths out, smiling shyly at him, “it is.”

“Teaching, huh? I can see it” he says, nodding his head as he looks her up and down jokingly, and YN feels herself fluster under his gaze. She doesn’t understand why she still longs for his approval, but there’s something really tantalizing in the way he said ‘i can see it’, as if he was telling her a secret about herself she couldn’t wait to hear.

“And who is this?” She replies quickly, tilting her head to take a closer look at the baby on his hip, hoping to shift the conversation from her to him. If he’s bothered by the sudden change, he doesn’t show it, instead, he brings a hand to cup the little girl’s head and pats at it gently, “This is Aidi” he smiles proudly, “m’daughter”.

Oh… Oh!. YN doesn’t know why she’s so surprised by his remark. If she remembers correctly — and she does, because YN isn’t one to forget details easily — he should be around 29 now, a perfectly appropriate age to have a three, four (YN can’t be sure, she looks small but she hasn’t seen her face still) child, as much as there really could be an appropriate age to be a parent.

Maybe, but she doesn’t like this thought and she doesn’t want to linger in it more than she needs, it’s what — or, should she say, who — comes with a child, that startles her: a partner; and at the idea of Harry being married, she feels lightheaded. It feels weird, thinking about the Harry she used to know, being married. Not that he wasn’t marriage material, he often used to say how he wanted to have a family pretty young, it’s just weird to her how his life could have gone on and there’s parts of it she wasn’t around to participate in.

She tries to scramble her brain and see if she remembers Instagram posts of her friends at his wedding, or at least an engagement dinner, but she can’t find any, but she isn’t sure if that’s because she isn’t in contact with her old friend group anymore.

“Hi, Aidi” she coos, raising her hand in a wave when the little girl raises her head from her father’s neck. “I’m YN, it’s very nice to meet you”

Aidi has light brown hair wrapped in a beautiful braid, and YN wonders if Harry was the one that did her hair or his partner did, her eyes are unmistakably her father’s, a deep shade of green, with a little twinkle to them that makes them so unique.

YN remembers many times where she had found herself thinking of the correct term to name the color of his eyes, if ever it existed, and she always came back empty handed. When she thought they were a deep forest green, he would look at her and they’d be a mix of green water, like the color the lake behind her grandparent’s house would turn out in the spring. Other times — YN noticed mostly at night —, they would be a dark shade of green, like the way a forest would look in the rain if she lived in a dark academia movie.

Aidi opens her pouty lips to let out a shy ‘hi’, but when YN takes a step closer to them, she snuggles closer to Harry, clutching his sweater in her small hands.

“’s the reason we’re late…” he sighs, “she’s nervous” he explains, and he lowers his head to look at his daughter’s face, the arm that’s holding her against him flexes a little and Aidi squirms in his hold, holding tighter — if possible — on his shoulders.

“It’s okay” YN smiles softly, but she isn’t talking to him, “first days can be a little though, huh?”

Aidi nods her head against her father’s neck and YN raises her eyes to meet Harry’s, and she flusters when she realizes he was already looking at her, an amused twinkle shading his gaze.

He tries to lower her down on the ground, but the little girl just squeezes his sweater tighter and kicks her legs out in protest, so Harry raises again with a sigh and Aidi resumes happily her previous position on his hip.

“Y’re bein’ irrational about this” he stresses, but YN looks at him amused, because it’s not like a little kid understands what ‘being irrational’ means.

“I’m s’sorry” he smiles nervously, shaking his head, “she’s not usually like this.”

“’s okay, you could… you could stay, for today… let her get comfortable?” YN suggests in a low voice, hoping Aidi isn’t listening to her. She doesn’t know if Harry needs to go to work, despite how much the school advises the parents to take the first day off, because children never really go willingly and always need a little push, she doesn’t know if he received the email, perhaps his wife did and didn’t let him know? YN feels silly for thinking like this. She’s usually rational about these kinds of things, and she never lets herself linger in inappropriate thoughts about her students’ parents, but he isn’t just a parent, and despite him being someone else’s Harry, there was a time where she fantasized he could be her’s.

Fantasized is the correct term, because as I said YN is pretty rational in her daily life and even in her daily daydreaming, and she knows rather well how Harry never even spared her a thought, in college. She was just the girl that lent him pens.

“Figure I could stay” he nods, more to himself really, and YN wonders if maybe he has to inform someone that he’s not coming home right after dropping Aidi off, “really just needed to go grocery shopping, but I guess we’ll go after, huh?”

Aidi seems to light up at the suggestion and she raises her head to look around the classroom.

“Daddy is stayin’?” She asks hopefully to YN, and when she nods her head, Aidi squirms in her dad’s hold and demands to be let down.

Harry chuckles at his daughter and throws a quick amused glance at YN when Aidi begins to tug him towards a small, baby blue, round table, where a couple of kids are coloring a drawing YN had printed out and left on the table before their arrival that morning.

Harry isn’t the only parent that stayed, and despite some of her coworkers disapproving of her method of teaching, she knows the kids had to warm up to her slowly, and if she demanded the parents off, it would be extremely difficult to get in their good graces.

She understood first days could be though, and she remembers how hard it was for her every time she started something new, a feeling that never really leaves you (not even many years later, when she no longer has first days), so she would let the parents stay as long as they could.

Of course, when she suggested Harry to stay, she only had Aidi’s best interest at heart, it wasn’t like she wanted him to stay, and perhaps talk to him, or maybe catch him looking at her with the corner of her eye when she was busy playing blocks with a baby student. It wasn’t like that at all. So why was her skin burning under his gaze for all the two hours he colored with his daughter?

…

Harry and Aidi leave around noon that day, and when Harry complains that it’s too early and he needs a couple of hours in the afternoon to work, YN reassures him quietly while Aidi is putting her little coat on, that she’ll get used to school hours and she’ll slowly but eventually want to stay longer; it’s always like that, and kids are simple beings, and pretty similar in their behaviors.

So he leaves with a resigned sigh and a chatty baby on his hip, and YN follows them with her gaze before going back to give her attention to the little kid fussing in her lap and chatting her ear off about his holidays in the countryside during the summer.

She smiles and nods her head every once in a while, to assure him she’s listening and is interested in his story, but she can’t help but let her mind wander to the thought of seeing Harry for the first time since college. He looked so mature and put together, she feels small and silly in her choice of outfit (simple jeans and a sweater with a bunny printed on it — that the kids loved!), and she wonders wether Harry was making fun of her when he told her he saw her as a teacher. What did that mean? She doesn’t remember talking about a teaching career with him, and she certainly doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with being a teacher, at all. So, was he making fun of her? He must have been joking and she, as always, didn’t get the joke. But why did it matter?

She doesn’t know, and she tries to think about what he possibly could’ve meant that didn’t involve making fun of her, but came up empty handed, and once again, she finds herself thinking about him the same way she did in college, with a tang bitter taste of ‘what if’s.

…

“Sorry we’re late… Someone was a little grumpy this mornin’, huh?”

The rest of the month had gone by quickly; YN isn’t required to come in every morning — she alternates mornings with the other teacher, Miss Enya, so she doesn’t get to see Harry as often as she’d like, and when he comes to pick up Aidi in the late afternoon (he had started to pick her up a little bit later with every day that passed, claiming he could really use the extra hours to work, and he had told YN to call him if Aidi started asking about him), he greets YN with a brief wave of the hand, which is kind of awkward, both to him and to YN, but she goes with it and waves back.

Sometimes, when Aidi takes a while to get her little coat on, and she takes her time saying bye to her classmates (because she’s very much a loving kid and she can’t just leave without saying goodbye, her daddy always tells her it’s impolite!), Harry chats a bit with YN, mostly about the weather (“’s crazy, this weather! ’s so hot I think I’ll melt”) or about Aidi, asking her if she’s been good and whether she’s getting along with the other kids, and YN is polite, always polite, she answers his questions and laughs a little at his jokes, and in a way, it feels to her like time hasn’t passed, and she’s still that girl that used to have a crush on her older friend in college.

It’s Wednesday now, September is almost over and with it the warm days, leaving place to the chilly weather sneaking on you when you’re least expecting it.

The week had been calmer than usual, kind of uneventful, really, a couple of kids got sick with the flu at the beginning of the week, and by mid week the class was almost halved, whether they really got sick or their parents were just preventing that from happening, YN didn’t know, but it was fine either way and she understood the precautions taken.

That’s why when Harry comes in that morning, a little after 9 am, YN waves his tardiness off nonchalantly, “it’s okay!” She smiles at him kindly, “most of the kids are at home with the flu, though” she pouts, looking around the room at the small group of students playing with legos on the floor.

“Oh! Sorry to hear that” He reciprocates her pout, letting his daughter on the ground and holding out her small backpack for her to take.

They watch as Aidi walks slowly to the coat hangers, hanging her backpack on the hook and then her little coat.

When she takes a seat on the table to color a cute bunny YN had printed that morning, Harry shifts his eyes to glance at YN beside him, that is still looking at his daughter lovingly.

“Tha’s a nice shirt ye’re wearin’!” He chuckles, rising his brows and pinching the fabric of her shirt between his thumb and index finger.

YN tries to control the redness that creeps up on her cheeks when she turns her head to face him, looking down at her shirt with a printed bunny dressed up in a ghost costume, where his hand is still holding the pale yellow fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

“This is a very fancy shirt, Harry. I take bunnies very seriously” she pouts, her brows dipped.

“Oooh,” he coos, “yeah, I remember.”

“What do you mean?” She says.

This thing with bunnies had started when YN was around five (her first stuffed animal had been a bunny and she found great comfort in Mr Carrots — that was his name), and it kind of stuck with her; whenever she had something important to do she would have a little bunny with her, whether it be a pendant on a necklace or just printed on her shirt, she’d feel comfort knowing she’d have a bunny with her.

“I remember” he repeats, “from college. You had that… that necklace, I think. Oh, and the notebooks, I remember those as well.”

“Oh.” YN doesn’t know what else to say, and she knows she’s being awkward, of course she knows! But what is she supposed to say? He remembers probably the most intimate detail about her, and once again she is stuck asking herself, what does it mean? For him to remember? Does it have to mean something? Because it’s not like she was hiding the bunnies… she had them splattered on her shirt!

“Yeah” he nods, eyeing her carefully. He retreats his hand quickly, almost as if the shirt had caught on fire and his fingers’d started to burn, and he clears his throat, embarrassment pumping through his body.

“I have t’go, now.” He chuckles nervously, “need t’get Aidi tha’cereal she always eats in t’morning”.

“Of course, of course” YN nods, waving a hand in front of them to dismiss him.

He waves at her awkwardly before stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, turning back towards the door.

YN doesn’t wait for him to get out of the classroom before she turns the other way, walking towards the group of kids that are playing on the ground.

…

“‘llo?”

“Harry? It’s YN, well the… the school” YN rambles, holding her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she holds the thermometer against Aidi’s temple.

She’s got the little girl curled in her lap as she lulls her back and forth, trying to soothe her the best she can, because she knows from experience that the infirmary always scares kids the most; apparently when painting the school no one thought about extending the silly cartoon characters that are painted on the classroom’s walls to the infirmary as well.

“Yes, ‘f course. Wha’s wrong?”

“Aidi’s burning up… I’m taking her temperature now, I think she’s… she’s sick?” She doesn’t know why it comes out as a question, but it does, and YN curses herself in her head for being like this. She’s got told many times to be careful when calling the parents, because most of them freak out simply from seeing the school’s caller ID, so she needs to be really more considerate in the way she delivers news.

“’s okay, I’ll come get ‘er, yeah?” He says, and YN hears shuffling from the other side of the line, and she wonders if he’s putting on his coat.

He sounds calm, and she’s glad she didn’t worry him, because it’s really just a fever and there’s nothing to worry about, but Aidi is little and she’s hurting, and she’d understand if Harry had freaked out a little bit.

“Okay, yes, yes” she agrees.

“Be there in 10”, he says, and she hangs up the phone and puts it back in the back pocket of her jeans.

She wonders if Harry has notified Aidi’s mum, and for a brief minute, she ponders whether she should ask the little girl in her lap, but then she feels extremely guilty she would even take that in account, and she tosses the thought out of her head, reminding herself it’s none of her business.

“Your daddy is coming” she coos, and Aidi shifts in her lap to look up at her.

“Miss YN, my tummy hurts” she whines, big tears pooling in her green eyes that look up at her and YN feels her heart clutch in her chest.

“I know, I know” she nods, petting her hair to help her soothe a bit, lulling her back and forth.

When the thermometer’s timer rings, YN removes it from her temple and winces when she checks the temperature.

“Just a few more minutes” YN whispers against her hair.

After what could’ve been five minutes, but felt like hours, YN sees Harry rush through the school’s infirmary, and when he spots them he raises his brows in a greeting manner.

“Hey” YN whispers to the sleepy toddler that’s curled up on her chest, “your daddy is here”

“Daddy?” Aidi mumbles in a small voice, raising her head to look up at her dad.

She knuckles at her eye and YN smiles softly at her, petting her hair once again.

“Hey” Harry sighs, crunching down on the ground to be eye level with his child, “how ye doin’, bug?”

“Hurts” she whimpers, raising her arms to signal him she wants to be picked up.

“I know, ’s okay” he props her on his hip and starts rubbing her back soothingly, cooing soft words in her ear.

“I think she’ll be fine with some bed rest… it’s normal for kids to get sick this time of the year” YN reassures him, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Yeah… ’s just… she’s never been sick ’n I don’ know how… she’s little” he takes a big sigh and looks at her, his panicked eyes burning in hers, and it’s only then that YN realizes he’s worried. Of course he is! And how stupid of her to think he wouldn’t be. It’s his child and she’s in pain, YN doesn’t have children of her own and she can only imagine in a certain way what could it mean.

“Harry, hey” she squeezes his shoulder with her hand, “she’s going to be fine. It’s just a fever, yeah? Just a fever”

He nods at her words, albeit unconvinced, and he tilts his head to look at his little girl that’s sleeping with her face smushed against his shoulder, her cheeks red with the warmth of the fever.

“It’s going to be fine” YN repeats.

…

New message:

from: YN

to: Harry Styles

Hi, how are you?

Hi, Harry, how is Aidi?

Hi, how’s it going?

Hi, Harry, it’s YN. How is Aidi? How are you? :)

YN sends that last text and throws her phone on the couch next to her, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

She sighs loudly before picking up her phone again and unlocking it, the messages app opens immediately and she reads again the text she’d written, the smiley face at the end mocking her.

“Fuck!” She whines, “A fucking smiley face?! Why are you so awkward!”

She doesn’t wait for him to answer before she gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen to cook something for dinner.

She’s staring at her empty fridge when she hears her phone’s chime, and she hurries back to the living room, a pep in her step as she anticipates in her head what his answer could be.

from: Harry Styles

to: YN

Hi!! She’s okay now, the fever’s gone down a bit, but she still isn’t eating :(

And I’m good btw

How r u?

She reads the text probably four times before responding, and this time she tries not to be as serious as she was in the first one.

from: YN

to: Harry Styles

I’m good too

Happy to hear that :)

Not that she isn’t eating… that sucks :’(

from: Harry Styles

to: YN

YN feels her heart skip a beat.

He sent a heart. A heart!!! If she was 14 years old she’d do a little happy dance and probably think about it for the rest of the evening, but she hasn’t been 14 in a long time, and she sticks to just liking his message and locking her phone, making her way back to the kitchen to finally eat something.

She isn’t 14 anymore, yes, but she can’t help but think about that heart for the rest of the evening.

…

Aidi comes back to school a week later, and she greets YN with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and YN holds her tight to her chest, happy to see that she’s alright.

YN and Harry both watch as Aidi greets her classmates, a pep in her step as she runs to them, ready to tell them all about the bad bug she caught that made her sick (as her daddy had explained).

“I’m happy to see she’s alright” YN says, smiling fondly at the sight in front of her.

“Yeah… me too” he sighs, “I wanted to thank yeh… fo’ takin’ care of ‘er”

“Harry” she chimes in, “it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do, though. Y’re a teacher, aren’t yeh? Not a nurse” he shrugs, smiling a cheeky grin at her.

“You do have a point” she laughs, nodding her head, “but you don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do anything special.”

“Still” he shrugs once again, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. “We should catch up… sometime… ’s been s’long”

“Yes” she nods swiftly, maybe a little too excitedly to not be embarrassing, “yes… I would like that”

“Fine then… I’ll text yeh, yeah?” He says, taking the keys of his car out of the pocket of his coat and playing with the keychain with his fingers, rolling it around absentmindedly.

“Have t’go now”

“Yeah” she agrees, but he’s already turned around.

YN doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline that’s making her see things, or if maybe she’s the one that’s coming down with a fever now, and it’s making her delusional, but she swears she saw a bunny shaped keychain attached to his car keys, and she feels her heart beat loud against her chest. She really hopes she isn’t imagining things.

PLEASE let me know if you want part 2 and if you liked this!!! 💞

Read part 2 here!!

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

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kryptonite

in which y/n smokes weed (sometimes) and she thinks her dealer is super cute, and harry always gives her a little extra because she’s sweet

word count: 8.2k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: if you are uncomfortable with the use of drugs, please do not continue reading!! i DO NOT want to see any messages in my inbox that talk of ‘glamourizing’ this drug. if you don’t like it-> don’t read it. mentions of bullying, peer pressure,

author’s notes: the second and final part to this fic will be posted next week, feb. 02 at 8am pst.

* * * * * * *

Harry hated parties.

Admittedly, they were a third of his source of income, but unless it wasn’t a gathering exclusively composed of his close circle, he didn’t want anything to do with it. They were too loud and sticky, messy and smelly. Red solo-cups littered at every available corner, half filled with Coca-cola, vodka, and the occasional sad, cigarette butt. Scantily clad girls and ‘discreet’ boys that didn’t know how to read body language that clearly screamed ‘I’M NOT INTERESTED!’. It just all got his nerves because half the time he knew they were only using him to get reduced prices on the marijuana he spent ample time on growing.

Keep reading

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

Text

SLUT!

chapter four: they took the crown but it’s all all right

series masterlist

In the morning, Peter was the first to wake up. He was wondering why he hadn’t heard the sound of Neds ten different alarms going off until he opened his eyes. He saw the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling and remembered he was in your dorm. He sat up and little and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes just as you were waking up. You sat up and scrunched your nose in disgust.

“We smell like the locker room at a public pool.” You said, making Peter laugh through his yawn.

“Yeah. We probably should’ve showered the chlorine off before going to bed.”

“Yes. We should have. But it was nice to wake up to some company nonetheless.” You smiled sleepily and leaned in to kiss him.

“Sorry. Morning breath.” He said once you pulled away.

“It’s okay. It was worth it.” You laughed before getting out of your bed. Peter watched you move around your room as you collected some things with a sleepy smile on his face. He could not believe he had just woken up in a girls bed after falling asleep beside her. He’d never been this close with a girl so to know you trusted him enough to be around him in your pajamas and messy hair meant a lot to him. He’d finally found someone he connected with and he was so glad it was you.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna shower really quick. You stay here.” You said and kissed him one last time before leaving. You came back shortly with wet hair hanging around your face.

“What time is your first class?” Peter asked as he stood up from the bed.

“10. You?”

“I don’t have anything until 1.” He replied.

“Do you want to meet up after class?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Always.” Peter scoffed playfully. You grinned and pecked his lips one last time before leaving your dorm room together. You left the building and heading towards Peters dorm so that he could shower before class. As soon as you left your dorm lobby, you saw Brad Davis on his way to an early morning practice. He looked between you and Peter and faked a loud laugh.

“Oh, no way.” Brad laughed obnoxiously. “What do we have here?”

“God damn it.” You groaned. “Why are you everywhere? How small is this stupid campus?”

“Wow, Y/n. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you on a walk of shame.” Brad said and looked you up and down judgmentally.

“It’s not a walk of shame. I’m literally just walking out of my own dorm.” You pointed out.

“Yeah. With this guy. What happened? You ran through all the athletes so you had to start banging the nerds?” Brad asked and gestured to Peter.

“What did you just say to her?” Peter snapped as he stepped between you and Brad. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the sight of your sweet, innocent Peter raising his voice at someone. Even Brad was intimidated by Peters tone and took a step back.

“What did she tell you? That she’ll sleep with you if you do her homework? That’s her move, you know. That’s what she does with every guy. So don’t go thinking you’re special.” Brad said with less confidence this time.

“Brad, you have no place calling me a slut. You have ten times the amount of bodies I do. And aren’t you the one responsible for giving half the rowing team the clap?” You asked him, making his eyes darken. He stepped up to you and you felt anxiety build up in the pit of your stomach.

“You better watch it, skank. At least I don’t whore myself out to any guy-“

“That’s enough.” Peter cut Brad off as he stepped between the two of you.

“Dude, who do you think you are? Don’t touch me.” Brad laughed in Peters face and tried to push past him to get to you.

“No, you’re not gonna get near her. I don’t like the way you talk to and about my girlfriend. So back up.” Peter said as he gently but firmly pushed Brad back a little. Brad looked furious at first until he processed what Peter had said. He looked at you and realized you and Peter were holding hands, making his face crumble.

“Girlfriend? Is this guy serious? You’re not actually dating, are you?” Brad asked you and sounded genuinely hurt.

“We are. We started off as friends and fell for each other. You’d know a little something about falling for a friend, wouldn’t you? Only in this case, I liked him back.” You replied. Brad narrowed his eyes at you and Peter could tell that really hurt him to hear. Instead of Brad retaliating with more insults, he just shrugged.

“Whatever.” He scoffed and bumped your shoulder as he walked away.

“And you wonder why I didn’t want you.” You called after him.

“SLUT!” Brad loudly shouted in response. People turned their heads to look not at the guy shouting in the morning, but at the girl he was shouting at. You felt hot tears of embarrassment well in your eyes and pulled Peter by the hand until you were in the boys dorm lobby. You sat down and put your face in your hands and rubbed them uo and down. Peter sat beside you and put his hand on your back to comfort you. You wiped your face off the stray tears that had fallen and laughed sadly.

“Do you know how many times I’ve been called that word? I don’t know why it still hurts me. I should be used to it by now.”

“Well, it’s like getting punched in the face. No matter how many times it happens, it’s always gonna hurt.” Peter replied, making you laugh more genuinely this time.

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Have you been punched in the face many times?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Peter answered, making you laugh once again. Peter once again demonstrated his way of easing the pain of the words they threw at you.

“Why does Brad hate you so much?” Peter asked once you were calmed down. You sighed and looked at Peter, knowing it was time he heard the full story.

“Brad and I used to be friends. He was my first friend at college, actually. We had the same schedule freshman year so I saw him everyday. Then we started hanging out on weekends. That’s when you know you’ve crossed over from college friends to actual friends.“

“Really? I can’t imagine you being friends with a guy like that.”

“Believe it or not, he used to be a really good friend.”

“Seriously? Brad was?” Peter scoffed in disbelief.

“I know. I wouldn’t believe it either. But he wasn’t always like the way he is now.”

“Well what happened between you guys to make him act like that?”

“It happened over time. Brad had a huge crush on me freshman year. I didn’t know that until much later. He used to he really nice and funny but once he joined the basketball team, it was game over. He was still friendly to me over text but when his teammates were around, he was someone else.” You began but then stopped. You were picking at your nails again and Peter could tell you were remembering something you didn’t want to remember.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Peter said softly and put his hand over yours.

“I do, though.” You told him. “It’s my story. And if I don’t tell you, someone else will. And it will be all wrong. I need to tell you exactly what happened.”

“So tell me.” Peter said kindly, making you sigh again.

“I went to one of Brad’s games one night because he invited me. It was at some point in the middle of the basketball season and he hadn’t been playing very well lately. I knew it was really stressing him out so I went to cheer for him. I thought it would make him feel better, you know? Anyway, we were talking on a court after the game and his teammates came up to us. They asked if I was his girlfriend and started to tease us, which I pretty much expected. But then one of them asked me if I hadn’t “put out” in a while and that’s why Brad was so distracted during the games.”

“What? Who said that to you?” Peter asked as his nose scrunched in disdain.

“Some senior.” You shrugged. “He’s graduated now. I don’t even remember his name.”

“Yes you do.” Peter could tell.

“Jackson.” You admitted and gave Peter a sheepish smile.

“Always a J name.” Peter grumbled and slapped his hand on the table. You laughed softly but your smile slowly faded as you remembered that day.

“I was 17. That guy was like 22. Everyone laughed. I was mortified.” You said quietly.

“Of course you were. Who wouldn’t be? What kind of weirdo would say that to a 17 year old girl they had just met? And what did Brad say?”

“He said, “yeah, look what you’re doing to my game”, and smacked my ass.” You recalled. Peters eyebrows went up and he looked over his shoulder out the window to see Brad. He was laughing with some guys out in the middle of campus, putting a feeling of rage inside Peter. Brad got to walk around campus and laugh with his friends while you had to walk fast to avoid getting harassed. He felt angry that Brad had put his hands on you. He felt angry that no one stood up for you. He felt angry that you were innocent in the situation but you had been the one that became an outcast because of it.

“What happened after that?” Peter asked as he turned back to you. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were still in that moment, still in the gym when it all went down.

“After that, he laughed. Then they all laughed. At me. Brad was looking at me and I knew he instantly regretted it, but he didn’t say anything so I didn’t say anything either. But I didn’t even know what to say. I was totally frozen. I wanted to stick up for myself but they were all older and I was alone in the gym with them. I was worried if I fired back, they’d make me pay for it.”

“I’m sorry you ever had to feel that way.” Peter frowned as he eyebrows knit together. He’d been bullied plenty of times himself, but he never had to worry about sexual violence in the way you did.

“Brad was different after that. I forgave him and we didn’t talk about it because I didn’t know any better at the time. But then he started to be like that all the time. He would make fun of me in front of them to get a laugh and then shoot me a text later saying he hoped I didn’t “take offense” to it. He wouldn’t defend me if his friends made a comment about my body or my appearance and eventually, he started doing the same.”

“That seems more like the Brad I know.” Peter mumbled and thought back to his high school days of watching Brad tease the girls on the cheerleading team with jokes that made them deeply uncomfortable.

“Trust me. He’s way worse than whatever you saw in high school. It’s like there’s no rules in college. There’s no principle to report to so people like Brad can get away with way more. He and his friends get to say whatever they want to me and nobody stops them.”

“I’ve seen it. It’s frustrating for me to watch so I can’t even imagine how it feels for you to be the one experiencing it.”

“It feels terrible. And hopeless. And overwhelming. All things he never has to feel.”

“What was he talking that day about when he called you a homie hopper?” Peter wondered.

“Ah, yes. He does love to throw that term around. He’s been throwing that at me for three years now. That’s where I get my reputation.” You smiled tightly. “Towards the end of freshman year, Brad asked me out. I said no, obviously, and he got mad when I rejected him. I guess he thought that despite the way he treated me and what he let our friendship become, I’d still be interested in him? I don’t know. But he got so mad at me because I guess he felt embarrassed. I wounded his manhood or whatever.”

“God forbid.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“I know, right? So to get back at me, he told his friends we hooked up but that I couldn’t get him off. Then his friends naturally started telling people I was bad in bed. And when people asked how they knew that, they’d say they had slept with me too and that it was a horrible experience. Gwen’s boyfriend, the one I told you about, is Harry. He told her that I slept with him, which never even happened, and now she hates me. She told my team and they spread it even more. So suddenly, I was 18 and my whole school thought I had slept my way through the basketball team and left them all dissatisfied. Meanwhile, I’d never even had my first kiss. But once a rumor like that gets around, no one cares about the truth. The truth wasn’t nearly as interesting. And it just gave way to all other kinds of rumors. People said I had all these diseases and stole all these boyfriends. They would whisper about me behind my back and eventually they started saying things to my face. Boys hated me. Girls hated me. No one wanted to be my friend. I couldn’t walk to class without someone yelling “slut” at me. It replaced my name my whole sophmore year. I’ve been a total pariah ever since. It’s not as bad now but my reputation stuck. I’ll always be the campus slut.”

Peter felt his heart sink when he heard the very words Ned had used to describe you the first time Peter talked about you. He knew it was bad, but he didn’t know it was that bad. He reached forward to wipe your tears and you smiled softly at him.

“Why didn’t you tell everyone that those boys were lying?” Peter wondered.

“You don’t think I tried? I tried to clear my name but women aren’t exactly known for being believed in situations like this. Or, any situation, actually. Me being a slut was the far more interesting story. So that’s what everyone chose to believe. I can’t shake this reputation until I graduate. They’ll always call me a slut.” You shrugged at your accepted fate.

“I’d never call you that.” Peter assured you as he put his hands on top of yours. You smiled and put your hand on top of Peters

“I know you wouldn’t.” You nodded. “Being with you makes me feel brand new. You’re the first guy who’s ever liked me for me, not because of what you think you can get from me. You make it all easier to bear. All the names they call me fade to nothing when I look at you.”

Peter put his hand on your cheek and brought your face closer to his so he could look into your eyes.

“None of them deserve you. They never did.” He said very seriously.

“They don’t.” You agreed. “But I think you do.”

Your conversation was interrupted by the laughter of some boys nearby. You looked over and saw a mixture of some of Brads friends and other boys who you had never actually spoken to but still liked to throw insults at you whenever they got the chance. They were looking at you and Peter and laughed amongst themselves. Instead of getting upset, you turned to Peter and leaned in to kiss him to show them that you didn’t care anymore. Peter pulled back slightly before your lips could touch and you felt your heart sink.

“You don’t want to be seen with me?” You asked quietly.

“It’s not that. It’s not that at all.” Peter quickly assured you. “I just don’t want to make things any worse for you by being seen with me. If those boys see us, won’t they call you a slut?”

Your eyes flicked back to the guys, who were all still staring with amused faces. Being seen with a boy would definitely fuel their war towards you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.

“They might.” You agreed. “But you know what? It might be worth it for once.”

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secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer · 5 months

Text

SLUT!

chapter three: you and me would be a big conversation

series masterlist

The next few weeks of your relationship involved a lot of sneaking around.

You didn’t want your reputation to get any worse than it already was and being seen with a guy was definitely not going to do you any favors. To avoid the public scrutiny for at least a little while, you kept your dates to places far from campus or Peters favorite, his dorm room.

“I’m knocking on the door.” Ned said loudly from the other side of the door as he knocked repeatedly. Peter stopped kissing you and picked his head up to look at the door.

“We can hear you, Ned.” He sighed as you slid out from under him to sit up on the bed.

“I am opening the door.” Ned announced and then proceeded to fumbled with his room key for the next few minutes as you and Peter sat in silence.

“We know.” You said through a laugh. Ned finally got the door open but had both hands over his eyes and his room key in his mouth.

“Is everyone decent?” Ned asked.

“Yes.” Peter groaned. “Take your hands away from your eyes.”

Ned slowly lowered his hands and sighed in relief when he saw that everyone was fully clothed. You waved at Ned and he smiled as if just realizing you were in the room.

“Hello Y/n.” He said politely.

“Hi Ned. How was Spanish?” You asked him.

“Muy bueno. Gracias. How was fornicating with my childhood best friend?” Ned asked casually.

“What’s fornicating?” You asked Peter as he burned bright red.

“It means sex. And that’s not what was happening.” Peter said and gave Ned a look that told him to stop.

“Oh, really? Tell that to the hickie on your neck.” Ned snorted. Peter covered his forming hickie and looked at you sheepishly.

“Sorry.” You laughed shyly. “I’m a biter.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ned said as he plopped down at his desk. Your smile immediately dropped and Peter was quick to notice.

“I should go.” You faked a smile and hoped off Peters bed.

“Way to go, Ned.” Peter whispered harshly as you left the room. Peter followed you down the hallway and tugged you by the back of your shirt.

“Wait up.” He said as you turned around. You smiled tightly and folded your arms before looking at him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry about him. He didn’t mean that maliciously. He’s just a little dumb.” Peter explained.

“It’s okay. Everyone says it. Why can’t he?” You shrugged it off but Peter could tell you were still upset. He pulled you in and hugged you as he pressed a few kisses to the side of your head.

“I wish we had more privacy. Not that it isn’t exciting to make out until we heard the dulcent sounds of Ned fumbling for his room key.” Peter joked. You smiled as an idea came to you and pulled away from Peter a little to look at him.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight.”

“Oh?” Peter raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Do you have swim trunks?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Meet me at the old brick building at 7. Don’t be late.” You booped his nose and started to walk away.

“What are we doing?” He called after you.

“You’ll see!” You called back.

At 6:51 that night, Peter stood outside the brick building in his swim trucks and a T shirt. He was freezing since it was mid November now but his anticipation kept him warm. You came around the building in an oversized shirt and smiled when you saw Peter.

“You’re early.” You grinned and hugged him.

“So are you.”

“I am. We’re so alike.”

“We’re nothing alike.” Peter laughed as he rubbed his hand up and down on your back.

“Oh, right. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.” You shrugged and pulled him inside the building. You took the elevator to the basement and led Peter by the hand to an indoor pool. Moonlight was spilling in through tiny windows all along the walls, making the pool light up a pretty shade of aquamarine.

“Woah!” Peter gasped. “This school has a pool?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you see this on your tour?” You asked as you pulled off your t shirt.

“I never toured. They were the only other school to give me full ride so this is where I came.”

“Remind me to show you around. After we go for a swim.” You chuckled and jumped into the water. Peter pulled his shirt off but stood nervously at the edge of the pool.

“Come in! It’s not cold.” You said as you emerged from the water. Peter took a deep breath and jumped in, immediately feeling the chill.

“That’s really cold. You liar!” Peter said through chattering teeth.

“I know. I just wanted you in.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled him into a long kiss that warmed Peter right up.

“Ignore my blue lips, please.” He said once he pulled away.

“It’s okay. You’ll warm up soon. Especially if you keep close to me.” You smirked and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I can do that.” He replied and wrapped his arms around you. You floated around the pool for a while and engaged in a race or two. After a while, Peter noticed a pensive look on your face and swam over to you.

“What’s on your mind?” He wondered.

“I have to admit something.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh? Spill.”

“When we first started hanging out, I was worried you only liked me because you heard I was easy.” You admitted with a certain sadness in your eyes. Peter made a face that you were crazy which made you feel better.

“No. I had no idea. I just thought you were nice. That’s why I liked you.” He told you.

“It’s been a really long time since someone has called me “nice”.” You smiled and didn’t realize how much it would mean to you to be called something other than a slut.

“You are nice. The people on campus don’t you. But I do.” Peter assured you.

“I know you do. It feels good to be known for me and not for some stupid rumors that people made up.” You told him. You stared at each for a moment of quiet understanding. Neither of you had felt truly seen by another person until meeting the other.

“I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you.” You said quietly.

“I feel that way too.” Peter smiled softly and pulled you through the water to hold you.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You said before pulling him into a kiss. Peter wrapped one arm around your waist and used his free hand to wrap your legs around him. He then slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. He didn’t know where this confidence was coming but he was going with it.

“Wait.” You said suddenly and pushed him back.

“Sorry. I’m moving too fast.” Peter apologized and put his hands behind his head to keep them off you.

“No, it’s not that. I just think if we get caught making out in this pool we’re not supposed to be in then you’d probably lose your scholarship.” You laughed, making Peter relax.

“Right.” He smiled. “Because I’m poor and smart.”

“We should probably go.” You said and pointed to the ladder to get out.

“Oh. Yeah.” Peter agreed and tried to hide his disappointment that the night was over.

“Together, though.” You added, drawing a smile out of Peter. You dried off with the towels in the locker room before throwing your clothes back on. Once you were dressed, you brought Peter back to your dorm room.

“My roommate went home for the weekend.” You told him as you flipped the light switch on. Peter had never been in your room before so he took his time looking around at all the little things you used to decorate. He noticed your posters and pictures of your friends from high school taped up above your stuffed animals.

“Woah. I’ve never been in the girls dorm before.” Peter smiled as he picked up a plush dog off your bed.

“It’s not that exciting.” You chuckled and snatched the dog from him.

“I promise, I feel very excited right now.” He replied as he sat down on your bed. Girls rooms always smelled so much better than boys and he could sniff out the faint smell of peppermint in the air. You smirked at him and opened the mini fridge to take out a can of ginger ale. You poured it into two little cups and handed him one.

“Clink, clink.” You said and hit your cup against his. In the lighting of your room, Peter was finally able to notice that you weren’t wearing any makeup from the trip to the pool.

“You look pretty with no makeup.” Peter said as it was his first time seeing you undone like this. You laughed as if that was ridiculous and covered your face a little with your hand, which Peter then moved. You looked at him and stopped trying to hide as you no longer felt you had to.

“So do you.” You gently teased him as you leaned in. Peter put his cup down on a nearby dresser and used his recently freed hand to pull you into his lap. He slid his hands up and down your back as you tangled your fingers in his chlorine dampened curls. Something gave you the nerve to push him back into your bed and you both fell back without breaking the kiss. Peter kept his hands in a respectful placement on your hips like the gentleman he was. You pulled away only to catch your breath but ended up getting distracted by Peters pretty face. You traced your fingernail in circles on his cheek and felt him blush under your touch.

“I got pool water on your pillow.” Peter said in a soft voice. You smiled and leaned down to rub your nose against his.

“It’s okay. I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

“I can wash them for you if you want so that you don’t have to sleep on dirty sheets.” Peter offered, giving you an idea.

“I mean, if they’re already dirty, we might as well put them to go use.” You said and leaned down to kiss him again. This kiss was slower and sent butterflies flying into your stomach. Peter picked up on what you were trying to say and felt excitement building up inside him in anticipation of your first time together. You’d never gone further than making out and he was eager to take your relationship to the next level. You could feel Peter pushing your hips down into him and quickly pulled away.

“Sorry.” You said at the same time. Peter could sense you were hesitant to continue so he propped himself up on his elbows to give you some space. You sat up in your elbows as well and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated. “I know I’m the one that started that but I think I changed my mind. I don’t know if I’m ready to go all the way yet. I’m sorry if I lead you on.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Peter assured you. “You can change your mind anytime you want at any moment you need to. And I don’t know if I was ready for it either. I just got excited.”

“No, I was too. I just don’t want us to move too fast if that’s okay? I don’t want to mess things up by rushing into anything because I really like you and I want us to last.”

“Of course that’s okay. You can always tell me what pace you feel comfortable with. And I really like you too. We can take our time together, okay?” Peter smiled softly at you as he took your hand. You looked at your intertwined hands and realized this was the first time you felt completely safe around a boy.

“You know, Peter, in a world of boys, you really are a gentleman.” You said through a tired laugh.

“Can you tell that to my aunt when you meet her? Because she’s convinced I’m a delinquent since I stopped wearing a belt.”

“I’ll tell her.” You laughed and laid down on your bed. Peter laid beside you and rested his head on your heart. You immediately tangled your hands on his hair and played with it the way he liked.

“She’ll like you. I know she will. I gotta get my two girls together one day.” Peter said in a soft voice.

“I hope she likes me. You were primarily raised by her, right?”

“For the last few years, yeah. She’s the best.”

“I bet she it.” You replied. “It would explain why you turned out the way you did.”

“What do you mean?”’ Peter chuckled and looked up at you.

“I mean you’re so sensitive and caring of others around you. I mean, look at us. You met me on your first day here and decided to tutor me just because you saw a stranger was struggling. And I see the way you take care of Ned. Remember that night he was homesick so you made us all watch that weird movie with the sexy horse from when you guys were kids?”

“Hey, Spirit is not a weird movie.” Peter playfully defended. “It’s an underrated classic with a phenomenal soundtrack.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” You chuckled. “All I’m saying is, she raised you right. In a world of boys, you’re a gentleman.”

“I try to be. You deserve a gentleman.” He said and picked his head up to stare at you. You smiled softly and brushed his hair off his forehead before taking his chin and brining his face closer to kiss him.

“Thanks for being gentle with me.” You whispered.

Peter returned the smiled and kissed you again before resting his head back down on your chest. You played with his hair until he fell asleep and then turned off the lights.

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