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andreafmn · 3 years

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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

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romioneficfest · 3 years

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Valeria

Title: Valeria

Prompt: Photo

Tumblr name:

Rating: GA

Word Count: 1392

Brief summary: Sometimes someone steps into your life when you least expect it. Ron and Hermione had made a lot of life changing decisions together, and this is the beginning of another.

Any content warning: None

*******

When the first ray of sunlight appeared on the horizon, marking the start of this new day, a very tall, red-headed man walked through the streets of London with a confident stride. His burgundy-red robes billowed behind him and his tired, unshaven face painted the picture of a somehow shady individual roaming the streets in these early morning hours. This, however, contrasted with the spring in his steps, the spark in his eyes and the huge smile lighting up the ginger’s fatigued face.

Ron Weasley was dealing with a whirlwind of emotions right now. His heartbeat raced as fast as his mind, causing his chest to fill with both anxiety and excitement.

He was on his way home from one of his Auror missions. Although Ron retired from this kind of work many years ago, he couldn’t say no when Harry asked him to help out in one of his cases, only one day after Hugo went off to Hogwarts for the first time.

Destiny and fate weren’t a concept Ron believed in, but if he did, he might think it was meant to be that he got asked to join this particular mission. Two weeks ago, he accompanied a ten-year-old Squib girl to an orphanage. She had not said a single word that day, but kept holding Ron’s hand from the moment they had found her at the crime scene right until it had been time for Ron to leave for home.

The following evenings, he’d kept visiting Valeria before his night shifts started. Her silence remained for several more days and Ron just sat with her, talking about the weather, chess and the newest invention sold at the joke shop. One day though, she suddenly reached for the wedding band on his left hand, briefly grazing over the gold ring.

“Can you tell me about your family?” Valeria asked, her voice quiet and barely audible.

He’d deliberately avoided the topic so far because he assumed talking about his wife and kids would only inflict pain. “What do you want to know?”

Valeria thought about it for a second before her curious eyes flitted to his hand again.

“Is she pretty?” she asked, smiling a little at Ron’s amused expression.

“Very,” Ron told her as he fished out a photograph from his wallet and gave it to her.

It was an old picture his mother-in-law had taken of them when Rose and Hugo were 6 and 4. Instead of looking into the camera, Rose, despite laughing, had her eyes squeezed shut as their dog Jeff licked across her face. And while Ron and Hermione dutifully smiled into the camera, Hugo had not sat still in his mother’s arms. The boy had gifted his grandmother a toothy smile while his upper body was hanging upside down, causing Hermione's smile to waver a bit as she struggled to hold Hugo.

“Hermione and I accepted a long time ago that a perfect family picture will most likely never happen,” Ron chuckled, causing Valeria to smile too as she stared at the photograph.

“I think it is perfect,” she said and Ron couldn't help but agree.

Ron shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable before narrating the adventures of the Granger-Weasley family.

Valeria listened with rapt attention, smiling and laughing and gasping at Ron's stories, and not once did she let go of the photograph.

*******

Hermione sat at the kitchen table, remaining silent after Ron had finished his little speech.

He knew that what he was proposing was crazy. The plan he came up with within the last few hours contained everything they needed to do in order to adopt Valeria. From how they could manage their working hours over therapy possibilities to Muggle school options.

Still, he was well aware that this came out of the blue, even to himself. This would, without a doubt, change their lives forever. But when Ron had to leave for work that night, Valeria had reluctantly given the photograph of his family back to him. And right at that moment, something suddenly clicked into place.

All throughout his shift that night he had been thinking about his idea. Would Hermione agree? Would they be fit to care for this girl? Would Hugo and Rose be okay with this? And most of all, would Valeria even want to be a part of their family? But the idea cemented itself both inside his mind and heart.

“She's probably traumatized and needs professional help,” Hermione broke her silence.

“She's definitely traumatized. And yes.”

“She might not want to live with us. Maybe she wants to right now but later decide she doesn't want to anymore.”

“Yes.”

“We might not be fit to handle a traumatized child,” Hermione voiced his own concerns.

“Possibly.”

“She might become sad and angry about her not being able to do magic when she'll see it performed around her every day.”

Ron nodded. He thought about this too, wincing when he remembered how his family, him included, kept talking about their Squib relative from his Mum’s side.

“The adoption process is probably not that easy. I assume there’s a lot of paper work to go through and take care of. Maybe we can be her foster parents for a while before we adopt. Are foster parents a thing in the magical world?” Hermione frowned at the thought of bureaucracy making this harder for them.

Without giving Ron the chance to reply she kept talking, “The kids could not get along with her. Although I'm quite sure Hugo will stop at nothing to make her like him. And Rose will probably take her on broom rides and try to coax her into this book club her brother and all her cousins refuse to take part in. Would she be okay with Jeff? He can be very overwhelming sometimes, after all. Should we make Valeria and Rose share a room? Rose won't be home for-”

Ron cut her off with a sound kiss on her lips. Emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he cradled his wife's face between his hands and found that certain glint he loved lighting up in her dark eyes.

“So, we'll do it?”

Hermione stood up on her tiptoes, kissing the tip of Ron's nose. “Yes,” she said, “Ron, I think this is wonderful. This is scary and risky and unexpected but I really want to do this. I can’t wait to meet Valeria and ask her if she wants to live with us.”

“Brilliant,” Ron murmured as he showered her face with kisses, “Let's write the kids.”

*******

Hermione traced one of Ron's brain scars, letting her fingers glide over the skin of his right shoulder. Goosebumps appeared underneath her touch and for a smug second she marvelled about the effect she still had on him after over 20 years.

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, “I love you!”

He gave her one of his lopsided smiles, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, “I'm quite the catch, aren't I?”

Usually, she would join the banter, but not today. Today she needed him to know how brilliant he was.

“No, Ron, I mean it.” Soppy love declarations were never her forte but tonight she could not let it be with a simple I love you.

“I never thought I could love you more than I already did,” she said as her eyes flitted to the framed photograph on Ron's nightstand where younger versions of themselves smiled and waved into the camera as newlyweds,

“Today you proved me wrong, though. I have never loved you more than I do right now.”

#Hpfic #romione ficfest 2021 #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Rated G #Ace Safe #cw:#cw: mentions of wartime

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coolepowersthings · 3 years

Text

You’re Not Wrong

pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

summary: Y/N has someone in her life to take care of her physical needs, but who she really wants is her friend, George Weasley. What will happen when he confronts her about her taste in men?

warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex, sex with multiple partners, oral, dirty talk.

Authors Note: So friends, I haven’t written any fanfiction in quite a while, and I decided to jump back in by writing my first NSFW story. This is pretty much just smut, if I’m honest. It’s also my first try at writing something so explicit, and so I’m not sure how I feel about it, but at this point it is what it is! I hope you enjoy it! ______________________________________________________________

There was something incredible feeling about the ache you felt in your torso the morning after. You stretch out across the bed and let the dull feeling reach across your body. It hadn’t been the best sex of your life, but it had been enough to make you feel less dull, to provide your body with the dim buzzing that made you feel more alive. Jeff was already up, and the smell of coffee was almost enough to make you roll out of bed and throw on the t-shirt you had discarded last night. Instead, you pull the comforter over your head and give yourself a few more moments of quiet.

Jeff was not who you wanted to be with. It was not Jeff’s hands you wanted on your body, not his lips that you hoped to feel ghosting over your skin. But you knew having the man you really wanted was a fantasy, and so for now, Jeff would have to do.

Sighing, you decide to get up, get dressed, and pad down to Jeff’s kitchen to get some coffee and head home. Jeff wasn’t a bad guy. You had met one night at the pub and hit it off well enough. So, every time you felt an ache that needed to be filled, Jeff seemed like a safe bet. Normally, though, the ache was brought on by a very different person. The large, steady hands, the knowing smirk, the red hair that you would give anything to run your hands through. Yes, George Weasley was who you really wanted, and he was one person you knew you could not have.

“Morning Y/N,” Jeff said, smiling at you over his cup. “Sleep well?”

You humm and accept the cup out of his hands.

“You’re already dressed? I hoped maybe you’d stay for a while.”

“I can’t today,” you say. “I have some errands to run, and then I’m due in the shop at one.”

“Always at the bloody shop,” Jeff mumbles.

“You know I am. The boys need help, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t assist?”

Jeff just looks at you.

“Oi! Y/N!” Fred calls as you make your way into the bustling shop. “About time you showed up, we’re slammed!”

“I told you I’d be here this afternoon Freddie!” you call back, taking the apron that he throws to you and tying it around your waist. “Where do you want me?”

“Well isn’t that a loaded question,” came a softer voice from behind you.

“Cheeky,” you say, glancing at George. “Especially from someone who supposedly needs my help.”

“I always need you, and it’s never stopped me from being cheeky before.”

You smile up at him, hoping he can’t tell the effect he has on you. Although, if he can, then you’ve been a lost cause for a long time. It seems like forever ago that you stopped thinking of George as a friend and started thinking of him as something more, but as far as you could tell, he had no idea. He flirted with you, of course. But that was just his way. Fred teased you too, but Fred felt like a brother – one who ruffled your hair and poked fun at you when you dropped someone’s change or knocked something off a shelf. George’s teasing had an edge, a clear flirtation that made your face tint crimson and that you thought about when you were alone at night. Even the nights you spent with Jeff, George was never far from your thoughts. Still, you know you had been friends too long to start something with him. Fred and George were your best friends – you’d been through everything together, and you wouldn’t take the chance of ruining things now. Besides, if George felt the same way, he’d surely have made it known by now.

“Just point me in the right direction,” you say, rolling your eyes.

George smiles at you, and you hear Fred scoff. “Take over the registers, would you?” Fred finally said. “I need cheeky here to help me in the back room.”

When the store finally closed for the day, you were utterly exhausted. The twins hadn’t been kidding, the store had been packed until George had locked the door at closing time. You had rung up the last customer and were now counting out the till for the day. Fred was sweeping, and he passed the register as he made his way through the store.

“Big plans tonight, Y/N?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you say, keeping your eyes on the galleons you were counting. Even after years of being in the wizarding world, you still had a harder time counting out gold than muggle money.

“Does that mean you’re going to see old Jeffy boy?”

You heard a snort from behind you.

“Well he’s nothing but ordinary, is he?” says George, carrying a box past you and towards a depleted looking display.

“Jeff’s nice,” you say, glaring at him. You watch him set the heavy box down, his arm muscles clearly flexing under his shirt. You suppose glaring would work better, you realize, if you weren’t using it as an excuse to openly stare.

“Nice isn’t much of a compliment, you know,” George says.

You shrug. “Well, he is nice. Nice enough for now.”

“Yeah, and they’re keeping it casual, remember?” says Fred. “I think ‘nice’ is fine for our little Y/N’s fling.” He winks at you. “Just don’t go getting your heart broken, yeah? I would hate to have to beat up the ‘nice’ guy.”

“Someone can’t break your heart if they don’t have it, Freddie,” you say. “Besides, if someone hurt me, I’d be the one doing the beating.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says chuckling, as he takes the broom and heads to the back.

George still stands at the display, emptying the box and arranging the merchandise, his back to you. He was strangely quiet, and you watched him as he worked. He seemed agitated. He kept running a hand through his hair in clear annoyance, his red hair standing straight up. You thought about what it would feel like to be the one with your fingers in his hair, to grasp onto it and tug as he assaulted your mouth, your neck, your body. You watched his large hands as they filled the shelves, sure and steady. Is that how they would feel if he touched you? Strong. Controlled. You shivered. You had to stop this line of thinking if you wanted to help finish closing the store, and you knew it wasn’t wise to daydream about your crush when he was this close to you.

Luckily, Fred returns and offers a distraction from your thoughts.

“Well, we’re swept and sorted,” he says. “If you’re done with the deposit, I’ll run it over to Gringotts before I meet up with Angelina.”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m finished.”

“Brilliant. You don’t mind finishing up here with Georgie, do you?”

“I suppose the hot date can wait,” you laugh at him.

George snorts. Fred raises his brows at you and then chuckles. “Ok, thanks so much for the help, Y/N!” he says, giving you a quick hug and heading to the door.

Once he leaves, you set your eyes back on George.

“What is your problem?”

“What?” he says. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Well you certainly seem to. Every time Fred or I so much as mention my life, you seem to have a quick retort.”

“We’ve always bantered with each other, Y/N. I don’t see why it would be different now.”

“We have, but why is it that I get the feeling today that you really mean it. You don’t have to be so mean about Jeff, that’s all.”

“Oh, like you really care about that tosser.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Be serious, Y/N. There is nothing remotely hot about any dates you have with that boy. He is the most average piece of white toast I have ever met.”

You glare at him again, offended. Jeff may not be your soulmate, but he truly is a nice person. And he helps you cure the ache that exists in the pit of your belly every time you leave the presence of the man currently in front of you.

“Well, better to be white toast than a complete ass,” you say. “My gosh, do you hear yourself?”

George was looking at you now. He had put down the box and crossed his arms across his chest. His brown eyes were intense, and he scowled at you as if he could see right through you. Your hand twitched, the desire to smooth out his wrinkled brow making itself known, even in your anger.

“Oh, I hear myself. And I hear you too. That wasn’t much of an argument, love. And I’m not an ass, I’m just being honest.”

Your anger swelled at how smug he was, but the unexpected endearment only managed to increase the desire you also felt for him, bubbling just below the surface. How could one man make you feel so much at once?

He walked towards you and you took a step back, your body now stuck between his piercing look and the counter. “You deserve more than that, you know?” he tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe you don’t know? All those boys you were with at school were never good enough for you either.”

“All those boys? Merlin, George. You make me sound like a floosy,” you say, trying to hold on to your anger even though his close proximity was making your legs feel weak.

“No, never that,” George said, his eyes softening. “I just don’t like to see you hurt. And you pick guys that are all wrong for you, Y/N.”

“Oh really? Then what guys are right for me, George,” you say. You sounded braver than you felt, looking him straight in the eye, daring him to tell you who would be a proper beau for you in the eyes of George Weasley.

“I only have one in mind,” he says. Then he steps forward, pulling you into him and crashing his lips to yours.

The kiss was intense, and at first you didn’t react, caught off guard by this sudden shift from anger to intimacy. But it didn’t take long to process what was happening. George, your George, was kissing you. Before he could change his mind, before he could pull away, which you were sure he would, you reached your arms up around him, your fingers tangling in his hair. Recognizing that you were kissing him back, George pushed into the kiss even further, licking into your mouth. His hands held your hips, tightly, his fingers sliding under the bottom of your shirt and pressing into the flesh below. He left your mouth and started kissing down your neck, hot, hungry, kissing and biting his way. He kissed back up to your ear and sucked on the tender flesh there.

“Oh, George,” you let out in a breathy moan.

“Fuck,” he says, pushing his body flush against yours. You could feel him, his desire pressed hard against your stomach. But despite his body’s reaction to you, saying his name seemed to have stopped his assault on your neck. He pulls back to look at you, his eyes dark.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he says.

“Never,” you say, pulling him in to kiss you again. “I want this. I want you.”

As his lips met yours again, his hands go to your waist before making their way around your body and to your ass. He squeezes, hard, and then lifts you up off the floor and slides you onto the counter. He nudges his way between your legs, his hardness pressed against where you want him most, his hands moving upwards to hold your face for just a moment, before moving back down to your waist and pulling your shirt over your head.

“Here?” you whisper, looking around you as he started kissing down your neck again, headed for your breast.

“Do you have objections?” he asks, unclasping your lacy bra and tossing it to the side.

Somewhere in your fuzzy brain, you feel like there is a reason you should not be doing this with George in a very public shop, but you aren’t sure you really care at the moment what those reasons are.

“No,” you breathed out, as his mouth begins sucking on your taut nipple. “Godric, push me against the front window and I won’t complain.”

You feel him smile against your breast.

“I knew you didn’t like nice guys,” he says, his mouth biting down, gently.

You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

“Too many clothes,” you say, pulling at his shirt. He stands back up and brings his mouth back to yours, giving you access to unbutton his shirt and push it off of him. You linger on his arms, his muscles flexing under your touch, before moving down to his trousers and pushing them down. His dark grey boxer briefs are all that hide him from you now, and as you pull them away from his body and push them down, you almost gasp at how large he is. He stepped back to kick the remnants of his clothes away, and you place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him lightly so that he backs away farther, slipping off the desk and onto your knees.

“Oh,” he moans out, as you take him into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he says. You hum and he throws his head back, moaning again. His hands go to your hair, tangling in the long strands and applying just enough pressure for you to know when he particularly likes something. After a few minutes, you feel him jerk slightly, and then his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you gently away.

“Not that I haven’t dreamed of coming in your mouth,” he says, pulling you up to your feet, his mouth close to your ear, “but I want to be inside you.” You shiver and move to pull off your skirt.

“Let me,” he says, grabbing your hands and releasing them from the fabric. But rather than pull the skirt down, he skims his hands down the fabric and then back up your thighs to your panties, pulling them down with a quick tug. You raise an eyebrow at him for a moment, but then he is touching you, his hands making quick work, his fingers circling your clit before finding their way inside you. You moan, arching back against the counter.

“So wet for me, love,” he says. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside of you.” You whimper, and then he twists his hand, his fingers finding new purchase in just the right spot and his other hand rubbing at your clit in unison. “Oh!” you cry out, your hands pulling at his hair. He smirks at you “Keep making those pretty sounds for me love. I’m going to make you come from my fingers first, and then from my cock.” “Oh fuck, George,” you mewl, the intensity building inside of you. “That’s it love, say my name,” George replies. With a final flick of his fingers you come undone.

Gasping and trying to come back down for your high, you almost don’t notice as George takes hold of you, cradling you into his arms for just a moment, and laying softer kisses on your neck before moving up to your ear and nibbling there. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, you?” he asks. All you can manage is to moan as he continues his attack on your body with his mouth. “I hated the other men you were with, not because of who they were, but because they got to be with you. Merlin, you’re gorgeous. And smart and funny.” He stops and looked at you, his eyes taking on a serious expression. “I want you, Y/N. Not just now, but always, do you understand? This isn’t just a fling for me. I want all of you.” Without a second thought, you nod, placing your hands on either side of his face and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss. This time, the kiss starts out slow and sweet, but it quickly turns back to something more, the fire still lit inside of both of you. George’s hands are on your waste, pushing down your skirt so it puddles at your feet, and then lifting you back up onto the counter, stepping between your legs and aligning himself at your entrance.

“Sure?” he whispers one more time against your lips. “Yes,” you breath out, and then he is pushing in, filling you. He stills for just a moment before he starts moving inside of you, your foreheads pressed together, your breathing mingled and heavy. He kisses you hard on the mouth and then pulls back, his eyes looking down to watch where your two bodies are joined. “You’re fucking perfect,” he says, lifting your leg up so that it is over his shoulder, allowing him deeper, hitting the spot that longs for him most. “Oh!” you gasp. “You feel so good.” He smirks “You feel amazing, so tight and wet.” He brings his other hand back to your clit again. “Come for me again love.” And you do, the feeling of his hands and his body and being like this with George all taking over. “I’m almost there,” he pants out against your shoulder, “want to spill it all in you. Can I?” You nod against his neck “Come in me, now George,” you say. You feel him shudder at your words, his body moving faster until he reaches his release, your name spilling from his mouth as he finishes. He buries his head in your shoulder as he pants, both of you trying to catch your breath. You are the first to giggle. He lifts his head and looks at you questioningly, but then his smile breaks out wide, and he is also laughing, the two of you smiling and holding onto each other and laughing.

“Well, I suppose it took us long enough to get around to that,” you say, still smiling at him. He grins back and pulls you in for a soft kiss. “This is just the beginning, love,” he says. “Now, what say you to going and cleaning up together in my bath, hmm? I mean, we’ll shower together, obviously, to save water.” You smack him lightly on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, George Weasley,” you say. You look at him then with puppy dog eyes. “And what about my hot date?” He looks at you in mock disbelief for a moment. “Darling, I’m the hottest day you’ll ever have.” He winks and then picks you up, carrying you bridal style up to the twins flat. “You’re not wrong, George,” you say, nuzzling into him. “You’re not wrong.”

#george weasely #george weasely x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasely smut

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Text

Fried Rice and... Kiwi? (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Happy third birthday to HS1! Here’s something short and sweet in it’s honor. I came across this gif earlier today and all I could think about was lying on Harry’s tummy and listening to him talk about the album. Hence, this fic was born. Obviously, I had to turn it into dad!Harry, because that’s all I can manage to do ever. Like, literally ever. But, regardless! Enjoy, take care, and TPWK. gif by @stylesinthewild!!!

Three sequential knocks on the weighted, wooden door broke up the playful banter occurring in the studio. It wasn’t a request to enter, more so a signal of arrival and a warning - she was coming in whether they liked it or not.

“Delivery!”

Smells of grease and soy sauce filled the nostrils of everyone inside as she cautiously maneuvered her way around discarded instruments and cords and towards the coffee table with a both arms full of enough take out to feed a small army.

“God, thank you! You’re the best! Been starvin’ all day,” Jeff piped up from the armchair he’d been sitting in.

“Genuinely! You didn’t have to come all the way across town to bring us dinner,” Sarah added, hair aloof and sticking up around her head as if she’d been running her fingers through it incessantly over the past few hours.

“Well, someone,” Y/N sneered, cutting her eyes back to Jeff, “keeps stealing my man away from me and I’m tired of waiting for him at home, so I figured I’d just pay him a visit here instead.”

“A simple, ‘You’re welcome, Jeff,’ would’ve done ya just fine!” he sarcastically fired back as the rest of the room doubled over in laughter.

Harry was up and out of the cushion he’d been slumped back in to grab the paper bags that were balanced on top of his girlfriend’s arms so he could take her hands in his and guide her towards him.

“Tip your driver?” she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips down at him when he sat back down.

“Hmmm,” Harry toyed with her comment, pretending to pat down his pockets in search for change, “‘Ve only got my undying love and affection and an endless amount of kisses. Will that do?”

“I suppose,” Y/N huffed, leaning in to press her lips chastely against his.

“Okay, let’s see if I got this right,” she directed her attention back to the group as she fished around the bags of food.

“Beef and broccoli for Mitch?” The long-haired, almost-resembling-jesus brunette smirked and nodded as he leaned over to take the white carton from her hands.

“Kung Po chicken with extra sauce for Sarah,” Y/N stated confidently. She knew that one for certain.

Sarah bowed graciously as she swiped a handful of duck sauce from the bag after taking her order from Y/N.

“Hot and Sour soup for Adam and Jeff.”

She handed Adam the plastic tub of hot liquid as if she was presenting him a sacred piece of treasure and cast Jeff’s soup away dramatically as if to say she was still fake-mad at him for keeping Harry holed up in the studio for long hours and couldn’t care less if he spilled the damn thing in his lap or not.

“You’re too kind,” Jeff scoffed, earning a pointed middle finger in his direction from Y/N.

“And last but certainly not least,” she grabbed the two remaining cartons by the thin metal handles and presented one to Harry, “Veggies for the boy.”

“Thank you, lovie,” Harry responded earnestly as he grabbed utensils for the both of them, chopsticks for him and a fork for her (he’d tried to teach her more times than he could count to use chopsticks properly but she could never quite get the technique down successfully) and dug into the steaming heap of vegetables packed to the brim of the container.

It was peacefully quiet as everyone chowed down on the takeout Y/N had brought in, everyone coming to the realization of how hungry they’d gotten after spending the entire day writing, composing, and recording an album. Harry and Y/N sat on opposite ends of the couch, her feet resting comfortably in his lap.

“Wha’ did you get?” Harry asked through a mouthful of food.

“Rice.”

Harry frowned.

“Just rice?”

“Wasn’t that hungry,” Y/N shrugged, “Plus, I might have eaten the leftover pizza from the other day right before I came.”

“Still. ‘S not good f’ you. Need t’ be eating better than tha’,” the newly short-haired brunette (Y/N may have shed a tear when he told her he was cutting it) gathered an assortment of sauteed vegetables with his chopsticks before leaning over the couch and dangling it above her lips, waiting for her to open her mouth and accept the bite.

She managed to catch it all, sans a thin strip of onion that she quickly slurped up before it fell and wiped the remaining sauce from the corner of her mouth with her knuckle.

“You two disgust me,” Jeff called out from across the room, a scowl adorning his features.

Harry smiled that obnoxiously cheesy shit-eating grin that he had become infamous for having in his manager’s direction, being sure to push the chewed up broccoli to the front of his teeth to only add to Jeff’s so-called repulsion.

“I think you’re just jealous that the attention’s not on you,” Y/N stated matter-of-factly, “I’m carrying precious cargo. It’s part of the job description now.”

She gave a snide and over-dramatised rub over her swollen belly where hers and Harry’s unborn child was nestled conveniently on top of her organs, making it harder and harder to move around and have any kind of energy as of late.

“If I recall correctly, I’m carrying his career. ‘S pretty precious if you ask me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N plopped her half-eaten side of fried rice onto the table in front of her and shifted her body so that she was lying in Harry’s lap, her head resting perfectly where his thighs met his toned, yet somehow still soft tummy. Harry acclimated to her new position with ease, freeing one his hands so he could pet her hair gently.

“What did you guys work on today?” she asked, her fingers slipping under the hem of Harry’s shirt to absent-mindedly rub the sparse strip of hair that trailed down from his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers that were just barely peaking through the top of his jeans - similar to how he stroked her bump when they cuddle in bed at night.

“Finished up the master for Two Ghosts and added the keys to Woman, but tha’s about it. Started playin’ with another one, but I’m not sure that it’s gonna go anywhere.”

“Yeah? Was it the one you were playing for me the other night?”

Harry shook his head through another bite of his food and swallowed.

“Think we’re gonna do tha’ one next week. We were just messin’ ‘round w’ this one. Doubt I’ll ever go back to it after today.”

“Well, can I at least hear it before you scrap it?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek and peered around the room, trying to locate the hard drive that held all of their practice runs and demos.

“Did they take the laptop when they left?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s still here. Let me go get it,” Jeff promptly shimmied out of his seat, stuffed to the brim with tofu and bamboo shoots that were mixed into his soup, making him move a bit slower than he had earlier.

Whilst Jeff was digging around in the back room in search of the song Harry was almost certain would get lost deep down in the numerous files of unfinished songs and melodies, Y/N tapped Harry’s stomach with her pointer finger to get his attention and opened her mouth, signaling she wanted another bite of his food. He dropped the veggies into her mouth gingerly, making sure to avoid staining his shirt or accidentally dropping a carrot on Y/N’s nose.

“Thank you for comin’. Missed ye’ all day,” Harry spoke in a whisper so that only Y/N could hear him.

“Missed you too,” she mumbled through her chewing, “She doesn’t move much when you’re gone. Think she misses you more.”

In that moment, he was thankful she wasn’t lying on his chest, because she most certainly would have heard his heart combust and scatter like confetti into his gut at the mention of his sweet baby girl that was set to arrive in a few months time.

“’S she kickin’ right now?”

A wide grin appeared on Y/N’s face and she nodded, taking the chopsticks out of Harry’s hand so she could move it down her waist and press it against the underside of her belly where their daughter was seemingly doing summersaults in the presence of her father.

It always amazed him, each and every time. How there was a human being growing inside of her and he had a hand in creating her. Although he hadn’t met her just yet, he was postive she was the most precious and sweetest creature he’s ever known.

Bursting the sugary sweet bubble they’d trapped themselves in, Jeff arrived promptly with the laptop tucked under his arm. He brought it to life, skimming the dozens of folders within the drive until he found the one he was looking for.

“Found it!” he announced to the room.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

As if it would allow her to hear the song more clearly, Y/N lifted her head from Harry’s lap and sat up beside him instead. She leaned against his shoulder, letting her fingers intertwine with the ones attached to his arm that was pressed against hers.

The beginnings of an electric guitar and Harry’s voice filled her ears, Y/N immediately clocking the sound as something unlike anything he had previewed for her thus far. It was heavier, more akin to the style of an actual rockstar that graced stages across the country in tight pants and ooze sex appeal from every pore in their body (not that Harry didn’t already do that).

Next, she heard the heavy pounding of drums, to which she gave Sarah a raise of her brow and look of approval for her skill. She had absolutely no explanation for the way this song Harry had been so pertinent about tossing in the trash was making her press her thighs together to mediate the heat rising within, but it was there. The dull, persistent throb that made her wish her and Harry were the only ones in the room so that she could straddle him right there on the couch and have her way with him.

Pregnancy hormones. Yeah, that’s what it was. Well, at least that’s what she was telling herself.

And then she heard the chorus.

I’m having your baby. It’s none of your business.

She cut her eyes to Harry, who was undeniably blushing and had his face buried in his free hand as if he was scared to see her reaction. He was smirking underhead his palm, knowing good and well that she was staring at him as the lyrics repeated themselves over and over and over again. When he finally decided to peak through his fingers, he was met with her wide-eyed and stunned expression, to which he burst into a fit of giggles that shook his belly and made his sides ache. Y/N couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, shaking her head at his bluntness, for lack of a better word.

The song wasn’t long at all as it was clearly choppy and unfinished and a product of Harry, as he’d said in his own words, messing around with his friends. Sure, it needed some cleaning up and could use a bit more substinance, but it was by no means bad or anything worth chucking in her opinion. It was very much a song written about her, so she felt like she could stand confidently by that opinion.

“Well, shit,” Y/N huffed as the instruments came to an abrupt hault and all that was left of the recording were dwindling laughter and shuffles in the background while whoever was in charge of the sound board moved to cut the microphones, “That gets right to the point. Doesn’t it?”

“That’s what we said,” Sarah managed to get out in between wiping the mascara from under her eyes that ran when she was laughing at her dear friend’s reaction.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s bad at all. Needs some cleaning up, but I think you should keep working on it,” Y/N said honestly, prying Harry’s hand from his face so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, gee. Thanks. Didn’t know you were on payroll as a producer too,” Jeff called out contemptuously.

“Umm, without me, you wouldn’t have half of this album. Think I can say whatever I want about the matter. Thank you very much.”

Harry pressed his lips together and pointed at her with his fingers shaped like a handgun as if to corroborate what Y/N had just said.

“Yeh actually liked it though?” there was a hint of surprise in his voice.

He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected a smack on the chest or a scold, not praise.

Y/N smiled at the bashful boy beside her, picking a piece of fuzz from the collar of his shirt and flicking it off to the wayside.

“’S gonna have everyone’s panties in a bunch, that’s for sure.”

She picked up Harry’s arm and draped it around her shoulder so she could properly snuggle into his side.

“That damn kiwi,” she said with a playful sigh.

“Pardon?” Harry looked down, bewildered, to see Y/N busying herself by gently poking the taut skin of her tummy in attempt to get their baby to poke her back with her tiny hand or foot, there was really no way of telling which was which.

“That’s when I said that to you,” Y/N yawned, “I was craving kiwi and fuming mad because you ate the last one and when you asked why I was so worked up about it, I told you it’s because I was having your baby, but it wasn’t any of your business.”

The recollection immediately dawned on Harry, making him smack his forehead with a closed fist.

“That’s where that came from! I couldn’t remember what happened, but I’ve always thought that was the funniest thing you’ve ever said t’ me.”

“Ehhh, it’s top ten for sure. Wouldn’t say the funniest, but it’s up there.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her indifference, but he won’t lie and say that it wasn’t one of the things he loved about her the most. How even though she can be the biggest pain in his ass, she always finds a way to bring light into his life and make him smile even it seems next to impossible.

“So yeh think it should stay in the running?”

“Definitely. If I wasn’t already pregnant, I’d beg you to put one in me right here in this studio after hearing it,” she said nonchalantly.

Jeff mocked a gagging noise, “I think I’m genuinely going to hurl.”

“Oh, be an adult for once in your life, Azoff!” Y/N quipped.

Harry stiffled his laughter into her neck, tickling the tiny hairs that rose to goosebumps with each breath he exhaled onto her skin.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. I hear about you two every damn day in this studio. ‘S just like you said, the whole bloody album is about you two not being able to keep your hands off of each other for five seconds. ‘M surprised it’s taken you this long t’ get knocked up.”

Harry remained tight-lipped, having reduced his giggle fit to a minimum as he watched two of the most important people in his life bicker back and forth like children fighting over a toy. He supposes, in this case, he is the toy in question, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

“Gonna make a damn good album, though. Isn’t it?” Y/N’s haughty smirk answered that question all on its own.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x pregnant!reader #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Five: Like Real People Do

a/n: hellooo and welcome to the next part of ybmh!! i am sooooo excited about this next chapter (and upcoming chapters😏 ). Thank you again for all of your kind words and wonderful feedback! It's always so much fun to hear from you all, so as always, feel free to come chat in my inbox once you've finished this next part. I have a feeling there will be much to discuss👀 Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, mentions of drowning

Word Count: 5.6k

read parts one, two, three, and four

“I’m not going,” Alani says finally, discarding the outfit in her hands onto a pile on her bed. The clock reads 7:55 pm, only five minutes before she was supposed to be at the studio. She still hadn’t selected an outfit, but her hair and makeup were still relatively intact from her shift at the café.

“You have to!” Pua whines. “You told him you would!”

“Then I’ll tell him I’m sick or something—food poisoning. Period cramps, maybe,”

She begins placing the clothes on hangers to put back in her closet, but her sister reaches for her wrists to stop her.

“You’re just nervous,” Pua says calmly, getting eye level with her older sister. “But you’ll regret it if you don’t go,”

“Go where?” a woman’s voice calls from the door frame. Their mother, Estrella, peeks her head through the cracked door.

“To a party with a cute boy,” Pua explains.

Alani shoots an icy glare at her sister before turning back to her mom. “It’s not a party. I’m working on a piece about a local musician and he’s recording some music tonight and said I could go. You know, to write about it,”

Estrella nods, not convinced. “So why don’t you wanna to go?”

“Because they almost kissed—”

“Pua!”

“Hey, hey,” Estrella cuts in. “Mija, you’re twenty-two years old, I don’t expect you to stay single forever. If you want to go out and see a cute boy, you don’t need to lie about it,”

“But I’m not lying,” Alani defends. “It’s just… complicated, and I’m trying to be professional about it.”

Estrella steps away from the doorframe and envelops her daughter in a hug. “Sometimes, you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best,”

Alani is grateful for the piece of wisdom from her mother, feeling a small weight lifted off her shoulders.

“But if I were you,” her mom continues. “I would wear the black strappy dress with those wedges.”

********

8:10. Harry checks his phone for the third time in one minute, growing more disappointed each time the same three numbers stare back at him, almost mocking. He doesn’t feel any better when the time reads 8:11.

“Can I interest you in a piña colada?” Mitch pipes up, sauntering over with a glass in each hand.

The choice of drink seemed perfect when Harry had suggested it earlier in the day, but he deeply regrets it now. Despite the tightening at the back of his throat, Harry accepts the drink and chooses to nurse it in a different corner of the room. A part of him feels guilty for being such a buzzkill around his friends these days, and he wishes more than anything that he could just enjoy living in this moment with them. Being away from Alani had produced a strange feeling in him similar to the sickness experienced when leaving home on a long vacation; Harry didn’t know exactly how to cure it, but he hoped that lots of alcohol would do the trick.

When the clock reads 8:20, he accepts that she isn’t coming and decides to make the best of a shitty situation. He drains another piña colada and joins his friends who are huddled around various instruments and sound equipment. A few more of Harry’s writer and producer friends had joined the trip temporarily, and he’s grateful, now more than ever, for their presence—it distracts him from the overwhelming emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Jeff hands Harry a microphone and some headphones while Mitch plugs a white electric guitar into the amp. The guitarist begins with some chords that the crew has been messing around with for the past couple of days: an upbeat riff reminiscent of some of Harry’s favorite 70s rock pieces. His head is spinning mildly, but he uses the feeling as inspiration. He pinches his eyes shut and tries to let the lyrics flow, but the only words coming out are “she’s driving me crazy”, so he starts with that. The group also runs with it, adding a few yells and lyrics of their own. The song isn’t coherent in the slightest, filled mostly with laughter and choppy melodies, but it’s the best Harry has felt all night. He traded the piña coladas for a glass of tequila fit snugly in the palm of his hand, and true to Mitch’s word, the giggles emerge. At one point, he shouts the words “I’m havin’ your baby”, which makes zero sense to anyone in the room, including him, but they decide that it sounds cool and keep it going.

“It’s none of your business!” Mitch calls back, voice raised in his best soprano to mimic that of a woman. The shoddy attempt makes Harry laugh even harder and his hand clutches his stomach.

They continue on for what feels like hours, but in reality has only been forty-five minutes. At 9:05, Jeff Azoff heads outside to catch his breath and cool down. As he takes a seat on the steps, a yellow Ford Bronco pulls into the lot and Alani steps out once it's parked. She emerges in a black dress that falls mid thigh and a baby pink leather jacket, making her way nervously up the steps.

“Alani,” Jeff greets warmly with cheeks flushed. “Welcome. Party’s inside.”

She shoots him a grateful smile and reaches for the studio door, slipping inside cautiously. The music had been audible a mile down the road, but it’s even more overwhelming inside. Standing on a small coffee table in the center of the room is Harry with an arm draped around a shorter man wearing a black and white Adidas shirt. His dimples are on full display and his warbled words carry over the speakers to attack her from all sides. She recognizes Mitch hunched over a guitar and Jeff Bhasker spinning in an office chair, but she can’t put names to the other faces lingering around Harry. Alani feels extremely out of place, not knowing where she belongs in all of the chaos—it all seems to her like a living Jackson Pollock painting that she can’t look away from. In the middle of his off-key rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, Harry’s eyes land on Alani and his smile grows ten times wider. He puts one foot in front of the other, completely disregarding the small size of the table, but he catches himself just as Alani lunges forward to help him. This results in their two bodies pressed flush against one another, the coolness of her leather jacket versus the warmth of his intoxication.

“You made it,” he slurs.

Alani takes a small step back and clears her throat. “Yeah. Sorry I’m late,”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Harry shrugs, his eyes lighting up when he remembers something. “There’s piña coladas! In the kitchen,”

The fact that he remembered such a detail from their previous conversations and made an effort to incorporate it into this night makes her cheeks warm.

“Okay, cool. Thanks,”

Harry scans her appearance and his stomach flutters.

“Y’look really pretty,” he offers. Alani can tell that it takes every ounce of effort to do so.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice small.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them slip out through a side door and into the backyard, stopping just before the pier. Alani doesn’t know how much of these next moments Harry will remember in the morning, which makes her feel a little more confident to share what she’s truly thinking.

“Harry, I—”

“God, you’re so pretty,” he interrupts, running a hand through his hair.

Her cheeks heat up, but she pushes past the feeling. “And you’re drunk,”

“Yeah, true. But you’re still pretty. Always think so,”

Alani searches his eyes, which are sleepy and bloodshot, but there isn’t a trace of insincerity. In this moment, she also feels the overwhelming urge to be honest—about the butterflies in her stomach that only set flight when he’s around, and the way she constantly wonders what his lips would feel like against hers. But there’s an intensity behind Harry’s gaze, despite his intoxicate state, that stops her.

“You’re making this so hard,” Alani laughs lightly, more to herself than him.

“‘M sorry,” he offers. “Don’t mean to,”

She smiles at Harry’s completely innocent reply, not knowing what to do with all of the pent up affection she has for him. A part of her simply wants to scream in his face to stop being so goddamn endearing. Instead, Alani turns on her heel to put some space between them, but stops when she feels a warm hand tug at her fingers.

“Why d’you always do that?” Harry asks, his expression a little more sober.

Alani takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Pull away when I get close. Did it in the car that one time. And the other time at the beach,”

There’s a beat of silence where Alani isn’t sure how to respond, but before she does, Harry releases her fingers and takes a step back.

“Wait, that was stupid. ‘M sorry if I did anything—”

“No,” Alani interrupts, taking a step closer. “You haven’t done anything wrong,”

“So why?”

She releases a breath and swallows. “I don’t know,”

It isn’t the answer Harry is looking for, but he accepts it with a slow nod. Suddenly feeling the need to flee, he takes a step onto the railing of the pier and Alani’s heart rate speeds up.

“What’re you doing?”

“S’hard to tell,” he shrugs before letting himself fall into the water below.

“Harry!” she screams, heaving over the edge of the railing to find him. The drop, unbeknownst to her, is only six feet and he’s done it many times before.

After a few seconds, Alani sees him reemerge at the surface, shaking his wet hair out. There’s a small strip of sand along the shore below, so she bolts down the stairs to meet him at the bottom.

“What the fuck?!” She cries, panic welling in the brim of her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he deadpans.

“You could’ve hurt yourself,” Alani croaks, her limbs shaking. “You—you could’ve—”

Harry reaches out to comfort her but she steps back.

“I gotta go,”

“Alani,” he says gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Alani, wait!”

She walks briskly back to the front lot, Harry close behind.

“Alani, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t follow me.” she orders.

Her words are like a dagger through his chest, but he respects her wishes and stops dead in his tracks. Harry stands soaking wet under the moonlight, feeling helpless as he watches Alani disappear into the darkness.

********

She wakes the next morning with puffy eyes and a heavy heart, still wearing the same black dress from the night before. The warm water of a morning bath eases some of the tension in her muscles, but she knows it will take a lot more to soothe the tightness in her chest.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

Pull away.

Their conversation from the night before lingers like a nasty bruise in Alani’s mind, but she senses a bit of harsh truth in Harry’s words. She did have a bad habit of walking away when things got hard, especially concerning matters of the heart. Her instincts were all flight and no fight, so even if Alani had stayed, she isn’t sure how she would’ve explained her reasons for panicking. How do I gently pepper in the whole almost dying thing? she wonders, a lump forming at the back of her throat. Alani was only eight years-old when she nearly drowned, and though almost fourteen years had passed since then, she still vividly remembers the helplessness of sinking further under the strong tide. On nights after a particularly stressful day, Alani’s sleep is often disturbed by the sensation of her lungs slowly filling with water only to wake up drenched in sweat and clutching the sheets. She had worked hard for several years after the incident to overcome her fear of the ocean, but a part of her still couldn’t shed the debilitating need for caution. After all, it was easier to avoid the water altogether than to wade in blindly and get sucked under. Watching Harry sink into the unknown stirred the same sense of panic that Alani had felt all those years ago and threatened to undo her progress, but she quickly realized that it was the idea of losing him that had sent her into flight mode. She imagines the hollowness she would feel at the sight of waterfalls and the scent of vanilla; piña coladas—the drink and the song—tainted in her memory forever. The thought of Harry's absence was all too much to bear, but it’s how she knew that his presence must mean something. He meant something, and she couldn’t let him go.She ends her bath quickly and sifts through the first pair of clothes she can find. Suddenly none of it mattered: what she wore, how she looked, Rolling Stone—nothing but him. Alani thinks back to her mother’s words: sometimes you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best. All she needed to do was see him and the words would find themselves. The sky is overcast when she steps outside, so she quickly puts the top on Stevie and pulls out into the road, deciding to make one quick pit-stop before setting off to find him.

********

Harry’s head pounds and he feels as if the sun has been set to maximum brightness. His clothes reek of saltwater, his skin feels like sandpaper, and his mouth is the Sahara desert. None of this compares, however, to the sense of impending doom that settles in when the memories of the night before, particularly those of Alani, resurface. I’m so fucked, he groans. Harry doesn’t quite remember every detail, but he remembers enough; he remembers how pretty she looked, and reminding her of it. He feels the temporary warmth of her fingers and the coolness of her jacket pressed against his chest. There’s a bit of fuzziness between the Spice Girls and piña coladas, but then Harry remembers crashing through water and his memory gets clearer. He fucked up. He had upset Alani in some way and although he doesn’t quite know how, he knows that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. Harry sits up suddenly and the whole room spins, but he makes an effort to stand anyway. Need to see Alani, he thinks with determination, I just need to see Alani.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mitch comments from the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“What time is it?” Harry croaks.

Mitch takes a sip of coffee and checks his phone. “10:30,”

“And last night was…”

“The party?” Mitch fills in the gaps. “Yeah,”

Harry rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and takes a seat at the table. “Did...did you see Alani?”

“No. I don’t think anyone did, actually. Did you?”

“Yeah,”

“So… I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

Harry’s throat tightens and he hopes that she at least got home safely. He can’t bear to think about anything bad happening to her on his watch.

“No,” he confirms with a sigh. “No it didn’t,”

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Mitch prods.

“Dunno if I should. She was pretty pissed,”

Mitch thinks for a second, taking another sip of coffee. “What would Noah Calhoun do?”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would be very amused by his friend’s reference to The Notebook, but right now he’s too focused on making things right with Alani. He devises a plan of action and stands.

“On a scale of one to ten,” he starts. “How shitty do I look?”

Mitch scans his best friend over, head tilting from side to side as he considers the question. “About a 7.5.”

“Good enough.”

Harry swipes the keys to the Cadillac off the counter and slips his feet into a pair of beat up vans before heading out the door.

********

The restaurant is fairly empty, as far as Alani can tell from the back. The kitchen staff are gathered in the break room for the time being, which allows her to tiptoe around unnoticed as she grabs the necessary ingredients for her peace offering to Harry. She hurries out through the employee entrance as soon as it’s complete and the key is already turning in her car’s lock when she hears a voice over her shoulder, calling her name.

“David?” she responds, turning to face the brawny man leaning against the car that is parked beside hers.

“Hey,” he starts, offering a flash of pearly white teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but I just wanted to talk to you,”

Alani swallows, the icy chill of the drink in her hands reminding her of what needs to be done.

“You know, now’s not really a gr—”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you,” David interrupts, taking a step closer. “Since the other day when you stopped by. I mean, I think about you all the time but…” he trails off and Alani waits awkwardly for him to finish his ill-timed confession. David takes another step towards her and rests his forearm against the hood of her car, practically boxing her in with no escape route.

“We were really great together, don’t you think?” he asks, scanning her face with his prying eyes. “I don’t even remember why we broke things off,”

Alani’s brow furrows, her mind failing to come up with a logical explanation for this very sudden and uncomfortable conversation. She hadn’t lied when she told Harry that David wasn’t her ex, but she hadn’t been entirely honest, either. They had started hooking up during her senior year of high school—mostly because he was the star swimmer on their team that all the other girls fawned over, and despite all the attention, he had wanted her. It made her feel momentarily special, though she knew he wasn’t the boyfriend type. “Just a bit of fun” is what they called it, and the arrangement worked out well until Alani’s freshman year of college when she realized that there was an entire world of opportunities waiting beyond the confines of high school. A world that had brought her Harry, who was probably going to leave just as soon as he’d arrived if she didn’t make amends quickly.

“No,” Alani says decisively, nudging his arm away. “We weren’t ‘great’ together, we weren’t even good for each other,”

“Alani-”

“We were really young,” she continues. “And we did what we did, but that’s all in the past-”

“If you would just give me a chance-”

“I didn’t even know what I wanted for myself back then, let alone what I wanted out of a partner. But I do now,”

She doesn’t have to say Harry’s name, but they’re both thinking it. David steps back, arms crossed, and though he had always been somewhat intimidating, he looks small standing before her now.

“It’s because of that British guy, isn’t it?” he asks, despite the feeling that he already knows the answer.

Alani lets out a light laugh but she doesn’t confirm his suspicions. “We have nothing in common, David. We want different things out of life, you’ll see,”

“And he,” David continues, an accusatory tone on the word “he”. “Wants everything you do?”

She thinks for a moment, her heart pounding as she considers what Harry’s response will be to her confession. “I hope so.”

********

Harry had considered going to Alani’s house first, but he wasn’t sure who else would be home and didn’t particularly want his first interaction with her parents to occur whilst hungover. Sitting parked on the back road behind the café, however, he wishes that he had stopped there first to save him the painful sight ahead. Harry recognizes the other man from the restaurant he had taken Alani to the first time they had hung out, a name that started with the letter “D," though probably not the one flashing angrily in his mind. His arm is draped comfortably along the roof of her car, their bodies inches apart in what appears to be a very intimate moment. While he still can’t remember the exact details of his actions that had upset Alani so much, he fits this piece into the puzzle and it becomes much more clear. She has a boyfriend, and no amount of apologies could reconcile this fact, however tempted Harry may be to try. The word “boyfriend” sits uncomfortably in his mind, but it suddenly puts everything else into perspective. It explains why she fled his car so quickly when his wandering eyes had hinted their desire for her kiss—both times. He could have sworn that it would have happened had her phone not interrupted them the second time, but perhaps it had all been a trick of the rose-colored light. The sudden realization makes Harry feel sick, and a bit foolish, so he speeds off before he can be spotted.

He drives aimlessly for a while, mind still racing with the image of the other man’s depraved hands on Alani’s soft skin. The uneasiness boiling in the pit of his stomach is pathetic—he’s well aware—but he can’t stop himself from wondering why not me? It’s a selfish thought, but it eats at him, nonetheless. It should have been me. But the reality is that it wasn’t him, and it never would be. Despite any feelings he’d had that Alani was the one for him, he was not the one for her, and it’s a fact he must learn to live with. If this thought were a rock, he’d turn it over in his fingers until they bled.

********

Alani pulls up to the studio hesitantly and waits a beat before making her way up the stairs. She knocks twice, but there’s no answer, so she presses her ear to the door in search of any sound. Silence. There’s no trace of the cars Harry usually drives when she wanders to the back lot, either, so she figures that he must not be here. Alani racks her brain for other possible locations, but it’s a dead end. She doesn’t know what hotel or house he could be staying at, and her heart begins to race at the idea that he might not even be in Hawaii anymore. For all she knows, he could be on a return flight to L.A. or London, gone forever with the same instructions she had left him: don’t follow me. Alani lifts her phone with trembling fingers and searches Harry’s name, pressing the phone to her ear and praying like she had never prayed before. It rings three times before she’s sent to voicemail. The sound of his voice on the recording brings temporary relief, but it’s gone as soon as the message ends and she is prompted to respond. She clears her throat gently and speaks as if he is at the other end waiting to hear the right words and pick up.

“Hi, it’s Alani,” she starts slowly. “I, uh…. I’m at the studio. I don’t think you’re here though,”

She walks in small circles around the backyard and lets her eyes roam to the pier where it all went wrong. It sends a pang of guilt through her spine, but it fuels her next words.

“Listen, I really wanna talk—about last night. I shouldn’t have left, I know that now. It wasn’t you, it was me, and I know that sounds cliché but it’s true,”

Alani swallows down the emotion bubbling at the back of her throat and wishes that she could just see him, face to face, one last time. There’s so much more she needs to say, but it’s a conversation she doesn’t want to have with his answering machine.

“Please just call me when you get this. I wanna explain everything if you’ll let me.”

She hangs up and nearly throws her phone into the ocean. Though her trauma response wasn’t completely in her control and it isn’t something she should feel guilty about, she wishes she had been able to explain. Alani hadn’t always been comfortable sharing that part of her life, but there was a security in Harry’s presence that made her feel okay to do so. She wanted to share everything with him, the good and the bad, but she needed to find him first.

Only twenty minutes had elapsed at the studio when Alani decides to head out; there was still no word from Harry and she needed to be anywhere else beside the site of their potential last meeting. She drives with no particular place in mind, the windows rolled down to let in the chilly, overcast air. It isn’t until she’s halfway in the opposite direction that she gets the urge to visit one other location. There’s an extremely small chance that Harry will be there, but she goes less in search of him and more for her own personal wallowing.

When Alani pulls up to the lookout where the two of them had spotted the rainbow, there is another car already parked: a pink Cadillac. The sight makes her entire body freeze.

“Harry?” a small voice calls behind him. He almost thinks that he had hallucinated it until he reluctantly turns his head and sees a timid Alani emerging from her car. A million emotions run through his mind at once, starting with confusion and elation and ultimately ending in grief.

“Hey,” he responds, weakly, still leaning against the hood of the Cadillac.

Alani slowly makes her way over, not entirely sure that he’s actually there. Once she gets closer, however, she can smell the faint scent of vanilla and her chest swells.

“I left you a voicemail,” is all she can say.

Harry’s brow furrows as he tries to remember any phone calls, but he suddenly figures that in all of his rush to see her, he had forgotten to grab it from his bed.

“Left my phone at the house,” he offers.

There’s a brief silence where the two of them size each other up, weighing their own motives against what they assume to be the other person’s. Harry speaks first.

“Alani, ‘m really sorry,” he says gently, stepping away from the car and towards her. “I know I fucked up—”

“Harry—”

“But I understand now,” he continues. “I know why you were upset,”

Confusion settles into Alani’s body and she wonders how he could possibly know about her accident. Or if he didn’t know, what else he could be referring to. She doesn’t have to guess for long because Harry continues despite her silence.

“I saw you with him—your boyfriend, I mean. Derek?” he explains. “But not in a creepy way I just.. wanted to talk. Bad timing,”

“Wait,” Alani cuts in, her brain finally sorting out the pieces. “You saw me and David..today?”

Harry feels as if the knife in his chest has been twisted further at the mention of the other man’s name, but he nods. An uncontrollable bubble of laughter finds its way up Alani’s throat, and the sound would typically bring butterflies to his stomach, but it only exacerbates the heartache.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alani clarifies. “He’s delusional. And a huge pain in the ass, but I think he finally got the hint when I turned him down earlier,”

Harry’s ears perk up at the news, but he’s still wary.

“But you two were—”

“Ancient history,” Alani reassures him, taking another step closer. “He might as well be Socrates,”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Harry’s lips and he feels a wave of relief wash over his body. The news is music to his ears, but he still wants to know what he had done to make her walk away that night.

“So you weren’t upset because you have a boyfriend and I tried to make a move?”

Alani takes a deep breath, knowing that she has avoided saying her piece long enough. Before she can start, though, a rumble of thunder interrupts her thoughts.

“Can we talk in Stevie? I don’t feel like standing in wet socks again,” she asks, which Harry obliges.

The two climb into the truck and settle in, the atmosphere quickly becoming more intimate than Alani had planned. His vanilla cologne has also become more perceptible in the confined space, and there’s a whiff of spearmint, most likely his gum, that briefly draws her attention to his mouth. She snaps her mind back to the conversation at hand and clears her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, reading his eyes carefully. There’s a faint reassurance behind the emerald surface, so she continues. “For everything that happened last night. You did nothing wrong, please know that,”

Harry wishes he could reach out and comfort her, but he gets the feeling that whatever she’s about to say is important so he doesn’t want to dismiss it.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes, to be around the water,” Alani continues despite the prickling feeling in her eyes. “Because when I was eight years old, I almost drowned,”

The revelation hits Harry like a ton of bricks and all at once he understands. He hadn’t even thought twice about jumping into the water that night, so it didn’t occur to him to rule that out as a possible offense. He understands now that he couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“And I know that has nothing to do with you,” Alani explains, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Except that it terrified me to think about, you know… if you hadn’t been so lucky,”

Her composure quickly cracks, a single tear spilling down her cheek before she wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. This time, Harry does reach a hand out and Alani accepts it gratefully; the warmth of his fingers are a welcome contrast to her icy appendages.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs small circles over the back of her hand.

“But I do,” she sniffles. “Because—”

Alani pauses, unsure of how to finish her thought. Just do what feels right and hope for the best.

“Because I care about you,” she says finally, noticing the way his Adam’s apple bobs at her words.

Harry's jaw tightens at her confession and every muscle in his body longs to bring her close, leaving no inch of space between them, but he lets her lead despite his instincts.

"But it’s also because I care about you that I can’t let this go any further,”

Alani’s words surprise herself just as much as they terrify Harry, but she knows that it’s the right thing to do as soon as it’s done.

“Alani—” Harry starts, all of his worst fears crashing down on him.

“Please, don’t make this harder—”

“Don’t I get a say?” he questions, tightening his grip on her hand, though she still manages to slip away.

Alani runs the free hand through her still damp waves and lets another tear roll down her cheek. “What is there left to say?”

“How about ‘I care about you, too’? How about ‘I want to be with you’?”

“It’s too messy—”

“Everyone has baggage,” Harry defends. “God knows I do, and I would never ask you to carry all of that,”

Alani lets her eyes meet his again; they’re bloodshot and glossy, which sends a pang of guilt and sorrow through her entire body.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she reasons, this time thinking not only about her own issues, but about everything—the lies she had told and the ambitions she was still nurturing. She hadn’t given up on her dreams and unless Rolling Stone had suddenly changed their mind about the Joni Mitchell piece, there was only one way she was going to achieve them. Alani hadn’t yet reconciled the fact that she would have to put aside her own feelings for Harry to get what she wanted, but she knew that time would heal the wounds.

“All I want,” he continues. “Is a chance. And I know nothing I do will ever change the past, but two hands make the load lighter. So, please, let me carry some of that with you. Give me a chance,”

As she studies the pleading in his eyes, something stirs deeply inside Alani’s chest. She had started the day thinking only of him, but with selfish intentions. Now, she was trying to do right by him, having realized that she couldn’t have both him and the story that would launch her career. Something would have to give, and Harry deserved more than that. He deserved more than her. Despite all of this awareness, there is something else nagging in the back of her mind that she can’t ignore. Don’t walk away, it screams. If Alani ignored her true feelings for Harry and refused his plea, she would be walking away from someone who believed in her, someone who cared deeply for, and wanted to understand, her. Perhaps the universe truly had brought Harry for a story, but to be a part of hers instead of the one she had been so eager to publish. There would be other chances, just like Dr. Hudson had said, but there would never be anyone else like Harry. So with this in mind, Alani decides to stop walking away and stand still, right in this very moment, with the boy who shined brighter than the sun itself and who had only asked for a chance to make her happy.

“Okay,” she breathes and it’s like the weight of the universe has been lifted from her shoulders.

Harry leans in, their foreheads pressed together gently, and cups her cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Alani nods and nudges the tip of his nose with her own. “Please.”

Their lips meet like electrically charged magnets, with a force so natural and strong it sends bolts of electrons through their entire bodies. Harry’s mouth is warm and gentle against hers, and the coolness of his mint gum soothes the searing touch of his kiss. Alani’s fingers glide up his chest and along the sides of his neck, pulling him closer as if he’s the anchor keeping her from floating away into the dark clouds above them. Over and over again, their lips collide fervently, breaths mixing and filling each other’s lungs. Their hands eagerly explore the curves of each other’s faces, the softness of hair, and the occasional heat of exposed skin. Harry is the first to break the kiss, panting lightly as he pulls back to search Alani’s face.

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Never been better.”

next chapter

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #solo harry #one direction #ybmh

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adoreyou303 · 4 years

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Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

A/N: Hey all! So so sorry for the delay in this update... so much has been going on. I’ve been working and there have been wildfires and what not... anyway... here is another chapter! I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!!!

Chapter 7

CW: pregnancy, mentions of adoption

Light blues and pinks, and purples color the skies as the glowing sun sets behind wisps of white clouds. Instead of focusing on her music responsibilities, Melanie slowly sips on a strawberry lemonade. Her latest craving was any and everything strawberry. A fire crackles and burns in a glass fire pit in front of her. A cozy feeling sets in as her hand lazily traces along her belly. Softly, she begins humming through her strawberry-coated lips a melody. Grabbing a pen, she jots down some quick lyrics. A song, fleshed out with instruments and colorful stories, plays out in her mind. Instead of reaching for her phone to record or grabbing her guitar, she watches as the notes paint the sky above her.

She can’t help but wonder if Harry has written any of his songs like this. It’s uncommon for him to go anywhere without his guitar, so he’s always finding excuses to play songs and strum out new melodies. In this moment of quiet, surrounded by sun and beautiful sky, she thinks of him. She remembers the first time he played his album for her. Sometimes, she’s not sure if she’s inspired or intimidated by him. Whatever it is, she wants to be closer to him. The twinkle in his eyes when he hears music… the crinkle near his eyes as he smiles. What is she thinking? Is this real or is she just hormonal? Once again, the sky fills with notes as her next song begins to take shape.

With deadlines looming over his head, Harry’s fingers fly over the keyboard on his phone as he walks through the familiar hallways in the studio. Meetings, promo, and more promo have taken up most of the space in his mind, but if there is one thing he can rely on to take his mind off of things, it’s Mel. She texted him earlier begging him to meet her at the studio. Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he feels a tug in his chest as he hears her voice float through the door. It mingles with the soft strokes of a guitar. He doesn’t hear any other instruments, so he assumes she’s recording a track. Waiting for a break in the music, he closes his eyes and tips his head back, listening to her angelic voice. His eyes pop open as he catches a few of the lyrics. She’s singing about love… who is she singing about? Has she met someone? For the first time in a few months, Harry feels a sting in his chest that he can’t quite shake. Grabbing the door handle, he softly opens the door and steps through.

The second he lays eyes on her, all negative feelings had before vanished. Dressed in a shirt two-sizes too big and a pair of navy sweatpants, he doesn’t think he has ever seen her look so perfect. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun with a few stray strands framing her face. Her eyes are brilliant, shining brighter than ever. His mouth hangs slightly agape as he listens to her finish recording her take.

“Harry!” she squeals, placing her guitar on the stand. She rips the headphones off and signals him to come in. As soon as he steps foot in the booth, she flings herself at Harry.

“Hi, love,” he chuckles, holding her close. He can feel the little swell of her belly against his torso. He wants nothing more than to run his hands over it and talk to it, but he has to remind himself they are in public. Even more so, they aren’t together. He shouldn’t overstep.

“Did you hear it?” she asks, pulling away, but still holding tight to his forearms.

“The song? I only heard a little. Did you get some inspiration?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, I think so,” she teases, tapping her fingers against his skin.

“Alright, let’s hear it then.”

Harry bobs his head to the music, pinching his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. As the song comes to an end, Melanie nervously looks toward her best friend for any type of response.

“Well?” she questions. He stands up and engulfs her in a hug.

“You’re incredible. I love it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her head. This sent a shock through her heart.

“I’m so glad you love it, but you know what I would love even more?” she blinks up at him.

“What can I get you now?” he sighs. Externally, he plays annoyed, but he would do anything for Melanie. He would never get tired of fetching her things.

“Strawberries and peanut butter,” she says, turning back towards her guitar.

“Strawberries and peanut butter? Together?” he asks.

“You can bring them separate,” she shrugs.

“Whatever you want, darling,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back.”

Melanie continues recording, tweaking and retouching her song. When Harry returns, there are more people in the studio. He can tell Melanie’s is on edge by the way she squeezes her eyes shut, lashes disappearing beneath her eyelids. Between recording sessions, Harry lets himself into the booth with her snack.

“Alright?” he asks, handing her the bag.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” she answers, gesturing towards the glass separating them from the rest of the team. “I’ll be better once I eat these bad boys.”

He watches with slight disgust as she dips the sweet fruit into the sticky substance.

“How could you do that to such a superior fruit?” he questions.

“Mmm, this… these hit the spot,” she moans, gobbling down her snack. Shaking his head with a stupid smile on his face, he walks back out to listen to her finish up the session.

Harry makes conversation with the sound technicians and others on Mel’s team while she continues to eat.

“Is she eating peanut butter and strawberries?” Jonah, Mel’s sound tech, asks, confused.

“Yes, she is,” Harry confirms. A pit forms in his stomach, hoping they wouldn’t press any further.

“Yesterday she was drinking a strawberry milkshake with chocolate mint patties,” Mike, another sound tech, chimes in.

“That is definitely not that weird. I’ve had worse when I was in Jamaica,” Harry chuckles, remembering the severe case of munchies when Mitch offered him a few too many mushrooms at once. He pushes the memory away, keeping track of the conversation and chiming in when he needs to. She definitely can’t keep it a secret much longer.

At the end of a long studio session, Harry wraps her jacket around her shoulders.

“How’re you feeling lately?” he asks gently, eyeing her for any kind of reaction.

“Not bad,” she replies, tugging her coat closer to her body. Scanning around for any extra ears, Harry pulls her close. So close, he can smell the faint scent of strawberries and peanut butter mixing with her natural scent.

“They’re noticing,” he says quietly. He feels her stiffen beneath his touch. Her eyes fall toward her stomach then the ground.

“Did someone say something?” she asks, suddenly feeling panic rise in her throat.

“They were commenting on your recent choice of snacks.”

“What does that have to do with anything? People eat weird things all the time,” she snaps. Taken aback by her sudden shift in mood, Harry raises his hands in defeat.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to look out for me. I appreciate it,” she murmurs, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face. His hands subconsciously find her hips, rubbing slow, soothing circles. Letting go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she relaxes into his touch.

“How can I help?” he murmurs against her hair. Together, they hold each other in silence. A soft swaying causes her too-big shirt to ruffle against her skin. His large hands slowly make their way underneath her shirt, resting on the skin of her lower back. She could almost cry with relief the pressure his warm hands bring to her aching back. He notices the way her breath hitches as he kneads his fingers across the tense muscles, focusing particularly on spots that leave her melting further into his chest.

“Dinner?” she suggests.

“Let’s go then.” But, neither one of them are keen on moving. They are just fine where they are, in each other’s arms. Eventually, Melanie pulls away, cheeks burning and eyes cast downward. They walk toward the door, hands intertwined, swinging with childlike innocence.

“Have you thought of any names?” Harry asks, trying to break the silence.

“No, why would I?” she shrugs.

“You can’t just refer to them as ‘it’ forever. You have to call it something.”

“Whoever adopts him or her will give them a name,” she says quietly.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them your own name, if you want.”

“I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl,” she sighs, dropping her friend’s hand to open the door.

“How ‘bout Peanut, then?”

“Peanut? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You eat peanut butter like your life depends on it. I think it’s safe to say your child will love peanuts,” he laughs, ruffling her hair.

“What do you think? Are you a little Peanut?” she asks her belly, still hidden by an abundance of fabric. “I think the answer is Thai food.”

“Peanut it is,” Harry rolls his eyes, mentally reminding himself of her favorite Thai dish, peanut chicken.

The two continue to walk, hand in hand, discussing their dinner plans while Jeff shuts off the lights in his office for the night. He sees Mel and Harry about to walk out the double doors when he overhears a part of conversation he was perhaps not meant to hear. He watches Harry pull the young, up and coming star into his side and press a kiss to her head. It’s well known that Harry is an affectionate person, especially toward Melanie, but something seems different. He seems more protective, more loving, more attached. What is going on between the two? Have they started dating? Different bets were placed as soon as Mel and Harry started working together, but it’s unlike the two to not communicate. Especially Harry, who is very vocal about emotional and mental health. Jeff leaves the studio that night with a strange sense of determination to figure out what’s going on with his client and the girl he views as his own daughter.

The following day, Jeff calls for an all-teams session to hear progress on both Melanie and Harry’s tracks. They’ve presented different things, but he wants the teams to hear the songs. It always helps to have extra ears. At least, that’s what Jeff said was going on. He was actually going to try to find out what the hell is going on with Mel and Harry.

After everyone is in the studio, Jeff calls everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming in on short notice. I appreciate you all. There’s actually been a change of plans. Instead of playing songs, I want to talk. As you all know, Sarah and Mitch announced exciting news at our company dinner. We’re pleased for you both, but I think there is something more pressing on our minds right now.” At this, he turns his gaze to Melanie. Hot under his stare, she shifts uncomfortably, looking for some type of reassurance from Harry. He nudges her knee with his, but keeps his hands knotted in his lap. “Mel, what’s going on? You’ve fainted at a concert, you’re barely keeping up with your deadlines, which is unlike you… Are you sick? Please, just tell us. We want to help,” Jeff pleads.

For a second, Jeff feels a pang of guilt ripple through his chest. He isn’t her dad nor her manager. She isn’t obligated to tell him anything. All is silent in the room while thoughts churn in Melanie’s mind. Harry’s head slowly turns towards her.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers.

“Sorry?” Jeff questions, hoping he heard her incorrectly.

“I know you heard me,” she mumbles. Pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands and taking a deep breath, she stands on shaky legs. Harry reaches up to steady her, but she pushes his hands away.

“The reason I’ve been… well, the way I’ve been is because I’m pregnant,” she announces, nervously fiddling with the strings of her hoodie. She avoids the looks of confusion slowly turning to looks of sympathy and horror. A sudden sniffle pulls her out of her trance. When she looks up, she sees Sarah trying to hide a cascade of tears falling from her eyes. She mutters a soft “excuse me,” to the person next to her before rushing from the room. Heads turn as they watch Mitch follow after his girl. Melanie quickly turns her head back to meet Harry’s confused eyes. What has she done?

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles pregnancy #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #hs fandom #HS fic #hs writing #SWEET CREATURE

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neerasrealm · 4 years

Text

POV: Jeff the killer kidnapped you and is venting to you about his internalized homophobia

I COULDN’T THINK OF AN ACTUAL TITLE SO I WENT WITH THAT

Anyway hi this is a jeffxben fic told from jeff’s POV. a little bit angsty but mostly just cuddles and comfort. and one-liners. lots of one-liners. The ending is a lil messy and idk man I didn’t know how to finish the fic so- ignore that

Based on one of these story starters.

Word count: 1907

There are three things you need to know before you read this.

One; hi, I'm Jeff. Nice to meet ya.

Two; I killed my parents three and a half years ago. I know that's a lot to dump on you immediately but it'll be important later.

And three….I'm...gay. There. I said it. I like guys. I'm attracted to men. I want to kiss guys. Or specifically- one guy.

He has blonde hair, dark skin and bright blue eyes. And also pointed ears. He's a ghost, specifically one that's latched onto a Nintendo 3DS and a cartridge of Majora's Mask 3D. He looks like Link- but I'm not attracted to Link. Link is a twink and that's not my style.

His name is Ben and Ben? Ben is a bro. He's my bro. He's everyone's bro- he has that natural charisma that makes everyone like him. He's friendly, polite, funny and laid-back. He's always down to hang out with you or invite you into his room to play videogames. Everyone likes Ben. But me? I love Ben. As in- love love him. I want to kiss his goofy face. His lips probably taste like cheetos and beef jerky. Gross. I hate how much I think about how his lips would taste.

So now you're probably thinking "hey Jeff, why are you just vomiting your gay thoughts on me? Go tell him you love him."

But There's A Problem.

My parents- the dead ones- were really homophobic. Being gay just wasn't something you did. And it still feels wrong to me- which is weird considering the fact that my new adoptive parents are two gay men and my foster siblings are mostly homosexuals. But it still feels wrong. No matter how much I'm exposed to it I still feel that slight guilt whenever I catch myself admiring Ben while he trash talks someone, and I want to punch myself whenever I wake up from a dream about cuddling him.

So that brings me to this situation.

Picture this, okay? I'm sitting on his bed with a controller in my hand. We're playing smash bros and having a great time. I'm having...not a good day. You remember the dead parents thing? The trauma I mentioned? Yeah that's been haunting me all fucking day and I'm not feeling good. At all. And of course I'm not gonna tell anybody about it, because that means I have to address the problem. And I never, ever, address problems. Ever. They'll fester in me till the day I die. Like maggots.

That's gross I apologise.

But- yeah. I'm not feeling good and I'm hiding this fact from Ben because he cheers me up way better when he doesn't know I'm sad.

"Hah! Gotcha!"

"Shit-!" I swear as my character (king k rool, in case you wondering) flies off the stage. Ben laughs and woops beside me in victory. I shoot him a glare.

"Man you suck at this game." He laughs.

"I don't suck." I spit back. "You're just really good."

"Suuure you are." The smug look he gives me makes me wanna punch him. My hand curls into a fist in my lap. I grunt at him in response. He laughs and nudges me. "Hey it's alright Jeffy," I hate that nickname with the burning passion of a thousand suns. "You'll learn how to play soon enough."

"Lay off, man." I mutter back. I drop the controller and he snickers.

"Aww c'mon don't tell me you're rage quitting on me."

"Shut up dude just-" I shoot him an agitated look. "Just shut your stupid mouth okay?"

His smile drops. "Hey, you okay man?" Shit. He sounds worried.

"I'm fine." I grunt back. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. "Get off."

The hand withdraws. I hear him shift on the bed next to me. "Hey, dude-" he frowns. "Are you feeling alright today? Do you- need to talk or chill or…?"

I glare at Ben. He's being nothing but supportive and kind and what am I doing? Being an ass. "No I don't need to fucking chill." I growl at him. "I'm fine, alright? Just fine."

"Alright…" it's quiet for a bit while Ben turns off the game. Eventually he speaks again. "You wanna watch a movie or something? I'm tired so…"

This is a trick. He's tricking me into taking care of my mental health. Fuck you Ben, I'll be as mentally ill as I want.

‘’I’m gonna go to my room.’’ I stand up and immediately get YANKED back onto the bed by my hood. Ben’s noodle arms wrap around my waist and hold me tight. ‘’Dude-!’’ this is getting a little tOO HOMO-EROTIC, BENNY BOY.

‘’Stay.’’ he murmurs. ‘’I wanna keep an eye on you.’’

‘’Why?’’ I snarl. ‘’Because I’m a stupid kid that can’t look after himself?! Huh?!’’

Ben flinches. ‘’Jeff-’’ he murmurs. ‘’It’s not that I don’t trust you it’s because I know that you need the company right now.’’ he frowns. ‘’Just- lemme keep an eye on you, alright…?’’

Fuck.

fuuuuUUUUUCK.

Why does he CARE SO MUCH. I HATE IT. I’m gonna slam my head into a wall. Gimme a minute.

…

Okay wall slamming accomplished. Back to my predicament.

‘’Fine.’’ I grunt. He (unfortunately) lets go of me. It’s silent. And uncomfortable. I pick at my fingers. He tilts his head at me.

‘’So- anything you wanna do?’’

I wanna hug you and kiss you and tell you I love you please Ben I’m gay and homophobic at the same time. ‘’Not really.’’

Ben puts a hand on my shoulder and scoots closer. He rests his hand on my other shoulder and...oh god I can fucking smell his hair from here- that’s creepy. Why am I creepy. Actually don’t answer that one. He looks up at me, bright blue eyes shining with kindness. ‘’You wanna talk about it…?’’ he asks gently. Normally I wouldn’t talk about my problems. Ever. But Ben is giving me puppy dog eyes.

‘’...I’m just thinking about mom and dad.’’ I mumble. He nods. ‘’They- treated me like shit. And I keep thinking about the shit they’d say to me-’’ I look down at him. He nods encouragingly. ‘’It’s like...they fucking hated me for all the shit I did- and now I’m here and people are understanding? And Slender- is actually trying to learn why I’m like this? Like- diagnosing me and shit to try and help…’’ I frown. ‘’And I’m just thinking like- if they’d sent me to a therapist would it be different? If I’d just gotten diagnosed or something-’’ I shake my head. ‘’I dunno man…’’

He sits up a bit. He hugs me, pulling me against him. My face goes fucking red. ‘’Maybe things would’ve…’’ he murmurs. ‘’But we can’t change the past...there’s no magic ocarina to take us back in time unfortunately.’’ of course he made a zelda reference. Of course. ‘’We just gotta accept what we got now,’’ he smiles. ‘’And we got each other, right? That’s something to be happy about, isn’t it?’’

Oh god Jeff don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of the man you love.

…

And you’re crying. Good job Jeff.

I’m not a loud crier. But I am a gross crier. I get all snotty and stuttery and can’t get my voice out properly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and silently roll down my gross scarred face. Ben reaches over and brushes them off with cold fingers. He feels cold as he hugs me but I don’t care. I wrap an arm around him and tug him closer. I can feel his breath on my neck as he gently shushes me. He sounds so caring, so...loving. Like a parent should treat their mentally ill kid.

‘’B-ben-’’ I stammer out. He’s rubbing circles in my back. ‘’I lo-’’ wait what am I saying. ‘’I l-love-’’ WAIT HOLD ON- ‘’I love you…’’

SHIT

FUCK

WAIT-

He hugs me tight and I shiver in the coldness of his body. ‘’I love you too…’’ his voice is soft and gentle. I believe him. I believe that he loves me. Genuinely- like I actually matter to him. He’d miss me if I was gone. And that- that’s a lot. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like it wouldn’t matter if I disappeared off the face of the earth. You wouldn’t care, my parents wouldn’t have cared. But Ben? Ben cares…

Which is why I proceed to squeeze the life (or lack thereof) out of him and sob into his shoulder. He holds me tight until I’ve (kinda) calmed down. He pulls away and tilts my head up to look at him. As gentle and as loving as I’d dreamed him, he wipes tears out of my eyes. I sob horsley and stare at him. He cups my face in his cold hands and smiles down at me.

‘’There you go…’’ he murmurs. ‘’See? I knew you just needed to get it out.’’ he smiles at me. I just- told him I love him. And he’s not making a big deal of it. That’s good, right?? That means he accepts me- right?

Right...yeah. Yeah, Ben accepts me. Ben doesn’t judge.

‘’Yeah…’’ I gulp and look away from him awkwardly. ‘’Hey uh- do you wanna-’’ I fiddle with my hands again. ‘’Do you wanna...watch a movie or something? Together.’’

He nods and smiles. ‘’I’d love to.’’

And so- we end up watching not one, not two, but three movies, late into the night. And the entire time he’s curled up in my lap, comfy as can be. As the credits on our last movie roll, he looks up at me.

‘’Hey Jeff?’’

‘’Yeah?’’

‘’I love you.’’

My face goes bright fucking red. I don’t need to see it, I can feel it. I bury my face in my hands out of embarrassment. I hear him laugh at me like the bastard he is. I shoot him a glare from in between my fingers. I want to say it. I really do. I want to tell him I love him back but- it’s- it’s hard. He reaches up and pulls one of my hands away, letting him see me.

‘’You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay. I know.’’ He hugs my waist and rests his head against my chest. ‘’I can wait...until you’re ready.’’

It’s at this point I start crying. Again.

Ben shushes me gently and runs his hand through my hair. And...as I looked down at him- it finally clicked. I don’t have to put the shield up- not around him. Ben is different. Ben...Ben is good.

Yeah.

Ben is good.

I guess...the reason why I’m telling you this- well...not telling, I guess- writing. The reason why I’m writing this is because...I feel like it’s something important. I need to remember it because...it’s a step. A step in me learning to accept myself. It sounds corny yeah but- fuck off okay? I’m full of trauma and insecurities. I’m allowed be a little sappy.

I don’t know who’ll end up reading this- I mean I’m literally scribbling it into a notebook I found in his drawer. There’s only two people who I really want this to be seen by. Ben, because he deserves to know how much he’s affected and helped me, and two...my brother. Though I doubt he’d ever find this- heh-

I...love Ben. And that’s okay. At least- to me, I think it is.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #jeff the killer #jeffery woods #ben drowned #jeffdrowned #jeffxben #jeffben #writing

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

(4/?) I'm not 100% familiar with all of your AUs but what about "habits," Connor!centric, AHM!au, with a touch of angst if you can swing it? any pairing is fine but I understand AHM is hankcon so that's cool if you wanna go with that

//I can make this happen //So, since you asked for Hankcon and AHM I’m going to do a Connor centric fic from Richard’s perspective. I hope that’s okay!

Connor had showed up to this apartment in tears and looking heart broken. Richard didn’t ask what happened, he was pretty sure he knew what was wrong. He had seen Connor through rough break ups before. It was unfortunate, he thought Hank would be the one to stick around. Connor sulked over to the couch and nested himself in the pillows, finishing it off with a blanket from the back of the couch. Once he was comfortable Richard set about making coffee in the kitchen. Connor would talk when he was ready, until then Richard was glad to be silent support for his older brother. When the coffee was done he poured it into their usual mugs and made his way to the living room. He sat down in the space between the couch and the coffee table. He set the mugs on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. Connor shifted in the pile of pillows behind Richard and eventually held his hand out for the mug. Richard smiled slightly and handed to him. If he was ready for coffee, he would be in a talking mood in a little while. Richard picked up his own mug and drank from it.

“Hank and I got in a bad fight.” Connor eventually started, his voice wavering with the threat of more tears, “He got drunk again and that made him more depressed, things kinda spiraled from there. Jeff is with him now, but I couldn’t stay there and listen to him say those kinds of things about me and him. It was like all we had meant nothing.” Richard set his mug down and turned so he could sign to Connor, ‘Was Fight, Or Was It Insult?’ “It was a fight.” Connor admitted, “I said some things back that I’m not all that proud of.” Connor let out a quiet sigh and looked down into his coffee cup like it somehow held the answer to his problems, “I’m going to apologize in the morning when he’s sober and we’ve both had the time to cool off.” It was a good plan. Assuming Hank remembered what happened it would be a good way to clear the air. If he didn’t remember Connor could at least get the weight off of his shoulders. “He was doing so well.” Connor said quietly, “ And I know recovery means he may relapse again, and I thought I was ready. The times before when he’s called drunk I’ve been able to help. But being there, actively getting to see him try and drown everything out with whiskey, it scared me. I tried to help, like I do on the phone and I guess it just set him off.” He gave a wet sigh and let go of the mug with one of his hands to wipe away the newly falling tears, “I’m afraid of losing him to this Richard.” ‘You Not Lose Him.’ Richard signed when Connor was looking at him, ‘H-A-N-K Loves You. One Bad Night Not Change That.’ Richard paused a moment and decided to change the topic. ‘We Can Watch Movie. Take Your Mind Off This If You Want.’ “Just as long as there aren’t any romance movies. I don’t think I could stand to see other people in love right now.” Connor wiped his eyes again and sat back against the couch. Richard moved up onto the couch, cautious of the nest Connor had made in the pillows. He turned the tv input over to Netflix and they spent the rest of the night watching horror movies.

He didn’t know what time they wound up falling asleep but Richard woke up to a quiet conversation in his kitchen. One voice was Connor’s, the other was someone he wasn’t familiar with. He was filled with momentary dread at the idea of a stranger being in his apartment, but he figured if Connor had let him in then it wasn’t anyone he needed to be too worried about. “Sorry for calling you so early Con.” The unfamiliar voice said as Richard felt around for his glasses so he could see more than to blurs in his kitchen and get a feel for wat was happening. “Jeffery read me the riot act just as soon as I was coherent. Said you called him last night and asked if he could come stay with me.” There was a long sigh and when Richard could see clearly he found Hank and Connor standing in his kitchen separated by the island. They each had a mug of coffee in their hands. “I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t remember much of last night, but I’m sorry for everything.” Connor gave him a tight smile, and Richard could understand why. It might have been a genuine apology, but the lack of memory made it feel a little hollow, “I said some pretty bad things myself Hank.” Connor admitted, “And I’m sorry for them. Hopefully, if this happens again I’ll handle it better.”

Richard stood and stretched, the sound he made caught both of their attention and Hank looked a little confused. Which was fair, they hadn’t formally met. Connor waved him over and Richard nodded heading to the kitchen for his own cup of coffee. “Hank, this is my younger brother Richard.” Connor seemed relieved to have a distraction, the feeling clung to his voice, “Richard, this is Hank.” ‘Hello.’ Richard signed passively. He didn’t know hoe to feel about Hank or having him in his apartment so soon after his brother had been sent here in tears after an exchange with him. ‘Good To Meet You.’ Hank nodded to Richard but looked to Connor for a translation. He didn’t know Sign Language apparently. “He said Hello and that it’s nice to meet you.” Connor smiled slightly and turned toward Richard for a moment, “Sorry about invading your kitchen but Hank wanted to talk and I felt like this would be less worrying than you waking up to an empty apartment.” ‘It Fine.’ He picked up his mug when his coffee finished. With a nod toward Hank he headed down the hall to his room to give them some privacy. He received a text from Connor a little while later. Connor: we mostly patched things up. I headed home after finishing the dishes. Thanks for everything. :)

Richard smiled at his phone. At least that issue had fixed itself.

@i-am-therefore-i-fight

#AHM short #Hankcon #through Nines's eyes #nonverbal nines #hank #Connor #rk900 #dbh fic #dbh #ask event #ask panda #panda has all the answers!#90 follower ask event!#90 followers!!!#tw alcohol abuse

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adifferentbrandofbeans · 4 years

Text

Affect - 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

masterlist

words: 3.5k

Get up.

My eyes are open wide, staring at a blank white ceiling streaked with golden rays from the angle of the rising sun as it peaks through the shutters.

Get up.

The sound of gentle snoring blends with the calm waves breaking outside. I know I shouldn’t, but my head turns without my telling it to, the sight of the sleeping body next to me causing a churn deep in my stomach. His lips, parted ever so slightly, let out soft rumbles as he exhales, clearly in a deep sleep. His body is turned in towards mine, one arm trapped under his pillow, supporting his head, while the other lays gently on the bed, his palm resting delicately on the mattress, a short distance from his body.

Stop looking at him and get up.

I know I need to leave him here. This is his bedroom, and if I stayed here beside him, I would not be able to stop looking at him. There is something fascinating about the man in front of me. He is undeniably beautiful. However, seeing him like this is different. It is as though his peaceful energy stretches outwards and wraps me up in his calmness. It is addictive, and that is the problem. I do not want to be addicted to him. That is not what our new arrangement is about. Last night was beautiful, and Harry made me feel so special and wanted. But that is just who he is. Harry makes people feel alive. He was just participating the way he knows how; Harry does not do anything in half measures. So what if it felt kind of right to be so close to him? That is what this arrangement is for, making ourselves feel good. That is all this arrangement is for.

And so, I finally listen to myself. I slip out of his bed, pulling the covers back up in case he gets cold in the night.

Almost ten hours of sleep later, I wake up in my own bed, mouth dry and gasping for a drink. Groggily, I pull myself from the crisp sheets and head to get a glass of water. I am rubbing sleep out of my eyes when I reach the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks.

“Oh, hi,” I say softly when I see him, sat at the breakfast bar, head hanging over a bowl of cereal. His hair is damp from sweat and his whole body is flushed, presumably from whatever workout he just finished.

“Hi,” Harry mumbles, smirking at my as he swallows a mouthful. His smile fades suddenly, replaced by furrowed brows as he looks back down to his bowl. “Where’d you run of to?” he asks lightly once I turn my back to him, getting a glass and running it under the tap.

Grateful that he cannot see my face I reply, “Didn’t think you’d want anyone seeing me sneak out this morning,”. Not a total lie.

Worry starts to crawl down my skin when he does not comment. However, when I feel his presence directly behind me and he reaches past me to put his empty dish in the sink, my skin quickly heats up, burning away any anxiety.

“Shame… Kind of dig those pyjamas,” he teases, and my muscles relax reflexively when he presses his lips against my neck. Instinctually, my hand reaches up behind me and locks itself in his hair as his fingertips glide around my hips and hold me against him until my back is flush with his front. His hips grind ever so gently against the curve of my ass and I cannot help it as my jaw slackens and lips part. “Don’t think I was fully done with you last night either,” his voice is soft in my ear and he spins me around by my hips.

“I don’t know you fell asleep pretty quickly,” I tease, tracing my finger along the length of his jaw, “Thought you might not be able to handle any more of me,”.

He grins and opens his mouth in retort but quickly steps away from me when someone enters the room.

“Morning,” Jeff says brightly as Harry clears his throat and stands up against the sink until any physical evidence of his and my interaction softens. I can’t help but smirk as I take a sip of water.

“You two have fun last night?” Glenne asks, sitting up at the breakfast bar where Harry had been sat.

I look to Harry, faltering for a moment but he is cool and collected when he casually replies, “Yeah, sorry we didn’t meet back up with you guys. Think all the travelling took it out of us…” he turns his head back to the dish he’s washing up and mumbles with a smug grin, “Couldn’t wait to get to bed,”.

Coarse grains rub between my toes as they sink into the sand either side of the blue sun lounger. Salty droplets glide down my back as the sun dries the front of my body. A groan leaves my lips as I close my book, deciding that the rectangle of shade it provided to my face was less beneficial than the agitation of the novel.

“What?” Harry chuckles from beside me, his head turning to the side and opening one eye beneath his sunglasses.

“It was so good, like so good, and it was getting a little racy between the two main characters, right? And it’s like finally… you know? We’ve been waiting two-thirds of the book for this and then it says that his skin tastes like sugar, and you’re like, well that’s probably bullshit, but we can move past it and then it says that her pussy tastes like fucking strawberries,” Letting out a huff as I finish my rant, I slump back against the chair, digging my toes further into the sand in annoyance. “The book was so good, and then the author goes and cops out and says some dumb shit like that. The only way this girl’s pussy tastes like strawberries is if he could still smell her Summer’s Eve or something which I’m pretty sure they don’t have in the apocalypse,”

That makes Harry laugh and he rolls until his back is exposed to the sun, resting on his elbows and pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head to meet my gaze.

“You’re taste in books is interesting,” he comments with a smirk.

“I just hate that misconception that women have to taste super sweet, like, it’s a vagina not a fruit basket,” I grumble. Harry just chuckles softly beside me as I brush sand from the lounger, “Just gives guys more reasons to be weird about it,”.

“Are guys really that weird about it?” Harry asks curiously, fiddling with the chain around his neck, the golden cross slipping across the metal with ease.

“Some are, yeah,” I say, avoiding eye contact with him, this conversation suddenly a lot more intimate than I had planned. “Dunno… some of them just aren’t into it, which is fine… but the ones who pretend that they are usually give up after five minutes,”.

“What about the ones who are actually into it?” he asks. I look at him now, a little incredulously, his smile is faded but still present on his face.

“I’m convinced that they don’t exist,” I say honestly, “If the only way they can stomach the idea is that it’ll taste like berries. Pussy tastes like pussy and it’s not like it’s a bad taste…” my voice trailing away as Harry’s ears seem to perk up.

“You’ve…” he begins to question, wondering how to ask, his shyness bringing a smile to my face. I nod and he nods back, “Learning so much about you these days,” he jokes and instantly I feel a sense of relief that he’s not pushing the conversation to find out all the juicy details.

There is a beat of silence before he sits up on the lounger, swinging his legs over to face me directly. “I think you’re experiences with men have coloured the way you look at it, and I would be happy to rectify the situation,” he smirks.

I cannot help but to roll my eyes at him before allowing my head to roll back, neck extended, catching the sun fully.

“Why not?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Now it’s become a whole thing,” I explain, a little exasperated, “And, in my experience, whenever it’s made into a big thing I can’t relax and they give up after two minutes or I just fake it.”

“How about I promise to try my best to make you feel good, and if it’s not working for you, you just say and we can stop or do something else?” he asks. My head quickly turns to look at him.

“What? Right here?”

“No, you idiot,” he laughs, before pausing and shrugging his shoulders after a moment’s thought, “Although add exhibitionism to my list of things I wanna try,”.

Another sigh as I close my eyes and lay my head back down, enjoying a light breeze tickling my damp skin.

“You never actually gave me a list,” I comment.

He hums and comes to sit beside me, an arm around my shoulders as he pulls me to him, our bodies pressed together as my body curls into his despite the aching heat of the afternoon. Turning my head to look up at him, my hand finds its way into his damp curls, pushing his hair away from his face to appreciate the way the sunlight catches along his profile, illuminating every beautiful inch of his face.

“I just want to make you feel good,” he utters lowly, his eyes boring into mine. I am temporarily frozen, the change in pitch stirring something in me unexpectedly. Also, there is something in his eyes that I am transfixed by, more than the passionate intensity I find myself becoming surprisingly familiar with. It is a new kind of need, not the kind I would expect to find in the eyes of a guy just needing to sink himself somewhere for the night. If I really thought about it, I could probably convince myself it was desperation. However, before I can do that, Harry shrugs, “Offer is there anyway.”

I can feel him shift beside me but something deep in me does not want him to leave, an unprecedented anxiety appearing at the thought of him leaving me here. My breathing quickens at his movement. Placing a hand on his forearm he stops, looks back at me.

“I’d like that,” a whisper is all I can manage. Harry gives me a gentle smile and my heart slows back down.

Of course it does.

“Lets hang out tonight,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead before reaching down and handing me the discarded book, adding. “Try not to get too wound up,”.

“I think it’s missing something,” Glenne giggles as I take a sip of her drink, wincing at its strength.

“Did you even put any mixer in?” I tease with a laugh, chasing her drink with one of my own. After we had all eaten dinner together, she begged me to teach her how to mix drinks, much to the excitement of the rest of the group as they got to drink the extras we made.

“Yes!” she laughs, looking out at all of our supplies littering the counter before pausing. “Oh wait, hang on,” she says, causing the whole group to laugh as she riffles through various fruit juices.

“We can try again tomorrow,” I promise as the group seems to wind down, everyone ready to disperse and call it a night.

We all retreat to our own rooms, calling goodnight to each other as we go. I meet Harry’s eye as we reach our separate rooms and hold up both my hands, asking for ten minutes for everyone to settle before I meet him. He nods and opens his door with a smirk, the child in him enjoying our secret night-time operations.

Once in my room panic sets in. I decide to take a quick shower, grooming myself to my own personal taste and trying to ignore the overwhelming thoughts swimming around my brain; questioning whether Harry actually wants to do this, whether he is just trying to be nice, whether he will give up too, whether its me that is the problem.

Trying to ignore these paranoid thoughts, I pull my pyjamas on; a large, loose t-shirt and some cotton panties. Before I can question if I should dress a little sexier, I force myself out of the room and knock softly on the door across the hall.

When the door is pulled open, I see him, standing in a white t-shirt and his boxers, the same makeshift pyjamas he would wear whenever we slept in the same bed. Harry smiles gently and closes the door after I step past him. I stop by the bed, hesitating as I remember the night before. Last night had been something out of a dream. Harry had been so gentle and loving, and my god had he made me feel good. What if I was just drunk and that’s why it felt so good?

“Was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” Harry says, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts. He steps behind me, arms sliding around me and across my torso, holding me against his warm body. His head rests in the crook of my neck, his breath exhaling lightly and tickling the skin there.

“Might think that again later,” I mumble. I feel him exhale against me, tilting his head back and pressing a kiss to my shoulder blade. He turns me around and I can see a smirk etched on to his face as he pushes me back until I fall into the mattress. Climbing on top of me, he grabs my arms and pins them above my head by my wrist.

“You, missy,” he says with an amused but determined grin, “Need to get out of your head, and that’s exactly what I’m here for. So, stop being so pessimistic and give me a chance,”.

Before I can offer any witty retort, or even think of one, his lips touch mine. His kiss melts me. My body relaxes beneath him, sinking further into the mattress. Our lips move slowly together, separating and reconnecting in unison as his hands begin to travel my body. His touch follows the contours of my figure, delicately tracing the outline of my arms, up my sides, resting for a moment on either side of my neck, cradling it as he kisses me quicker, tension in the room thickening with each manoeuvre.

Shuffling down my body, Harry presses kisses to any exposed flesh as he goes. His lips find my neck, my chest, the soft underside of my arm, spreading warmth on his path. As he pushes the large shirt up to my hips, nerves begin to resurface, mingling with the fizzy feeling his lips create, altogether making my heart beat hard against my ribcage. Noticing that my body trembles a little more than expected, Harry pauses, looking me in the eye cautiously, attempting to assess my level of comfort.

“Want to keep this on?” he asks casually, pulling ever so gently at the fabric of my t-shirt he has bunched in his right hand, his left soothingly caressing the soft skin of thigh.

I nod my head after a moment’s thought, “Maybe… yeah, if that’s okay,” I whisper, almost ashamed of how timid my voice sounds.

“’Course,” he accepts, placing a kiss to my hip.

It seems a little nonsensical to insist on remaining covered, considering what he is about to do, even more so considering what we did last night. This feels different though. Far more intimate, far more one-sided. I try to push the feelings of guilt to the back of my mind and focus on the way his lips feel as they inch up my inner thigh.

“Your body is so beautiful, know that?” Harry mumbles, lips affected by their proximity to my skin. Hearing no reply from me he continues as his mouth presses open kisses below my stomach, using them to punctuate his words, “Have no… idea… what… seeing you… in that bikini… did to me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I mutter softly. He stops dead in his tracks, lifting his head to look at me. “I know it’s not fun for you so we can do other stuff,” I say, shrinking into myself as I grow uncomfortable with every word.

“I want to,” Harry says, swallowing thickly, sounding vulnerable himself. I look at him, checking he is not lying to me and he nods his head reassuringly. I nod my head and Harry instructs me to prop myself up with a pillow so that my upper body is elevated. “Watch me,” he instructs lowly, returning his lips to my skin.

Complying, I watch as his lips ghost over my skin, settling sporadically to pull the flesh between his lips and suck gently. A smirk graces his lips every time he causes a reaction from me, whether that be an arched spine, the roll of my hips, or, his personal favourite, the cross between a sigh and a moan that tumbles from my lips unexpectedly. When he hears the latter, he ensures he pay special attention to that area of my body, stimulating it however he can until my body begins to quiver with sensitivity.

His mouth toys with me until I am silently begging for contact, my fingers interlocking in his hair, desperately trying to signal my need for more. Finally, sensing my urgency, he complies, kissing softly between my legs. His tongue licks gentle lines upwards, hands coming up to rest on my thighs, softly caressing the skin there with his thumbs.

Moving softly, he licks around my clit. Using two fingers to spread my folds, his mouth glides across the width of my pussy before dipping down, collecting my arousal on his tongue.

Harry looks up with a smirk, lips glistening with me. He pauses before humming, “Strawberries.”

“You’re an idiot,” I laugh, grateful for his madness, finding it more calming than I could have expected.

Returning to his motions, his tongue finds my clit, tracing circles around it sloppily. The hand on my leg travels up my stomach slowly, igniting the skin as it moves, reaching my breast and toying with the nipple under my shirt. His mouth works gradually faster, lips occasionally sucking lightly on my clit. My body begins to shake beneath him. Hands wrap themselves around my hips, his forearms applying enough pressure to bring my legs closer to his head.

His pace quickens again as his tongue and lips work to bring me as much pleasure as possible. His face glides up and down the space between my legs with so much fervour that it would be impossible to deny that he is enjoy this. Any doubt in my mind is quickly eradicated when he groans against me after curling a finger inside me, my back arching off the bed and hips rolling towards him.

My hands clutch desperately for stability, one goes to the sheets below me, the other falls in my hair until I am forced to use it to muffle the noises coming from my lips. A new moan emerging with each curl of his finger.

“Harry,” I let slip, thankful it only comes out as a whisper, my throat dry.

This spurs him on even more, licking feverishly at my pussy until I am a quivering mess beneath him, his mouth sending a tsunami of pleasure through my entire body. He is softer as he coaxes me through my orgasm, only stopping when I stop pulsating against him. Slipping his finger between his smirking lips, he maintains eye contact with me as he sucks the last of me off his digit. His hand comes up to wipe at his face, thumb and fingers sliding down his cheeks as he moves to lay beside me, my heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Now do you believe it’s fun for me?” he teases, but I can sense an element of care behind his words, wondering if my insecurities were still present.

“Maybe,” I grin, “Might have to remind me from time to time.”

“Gladly,” he mutters under his breath.

Swinging an arm around me, Harry pulls me into his side and switches the TV on, flicking through to find something for us to watch as we unwind for the night. A few episodes of a sitcom later, I take myself off to bed, threatening that if I do not leave now, I will fall asleep on him. Harry just nods, kisses the back of my hand and watches as I walk out of the room with a wave.

Part 6

#affect #Harry Styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry #styles #harry fiction #harry fic #harry smut #smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #friends to lovers #harry friends to lovers #harry styles friends to lovers #adifferentbrandofbeans #writing #my writing

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amynatural · 3 years

Text

Ok, I don't have much time. Here is what's happening:

I was chasing a series of events across the state. Electric storms, sightings of weird people, crop failures... According to Dean this can mean there's a demon. So that's why I continued, despite Dean and Sam offering to take the case over. I wanted to know if I can interrogate one of them and learn about *the* demon.

Fast forward to yesterday, I've been sitting on a diner, waiting for my order. Then some guy took my interest. He looked like an ordinary guy, except the way he checked everyone in the diner out. He looked dangerous somehow, you probably know those guys. Anyways I wanted to have a talk so I followed him after my dinner. He led me to a dark alley, which was actually predictable if you think about it. I held my knife close to me and get close to him. That's when he started laughing. It was horrifying and annoying at the same time, he sounded overly confident. Then he turned to me and I realized why he was so confident. His eyes shifted to a pitch black as he continued to smile. He was planning this. He led me here, knowing that it was him I was looking for. With this realization I made a huge mistake. As I was backing out from the alley, I dropped my knife. Next thing I know, my eyes closed because of a sudden bang to the back of my head.

I woke up in an old room of some kind of an hotel? I am not so sure. I looked for my phone but it was gone from my pocket. Luckily, Sam has suggested for me to get another phone in case something happens to it. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart as I dialed his number. I didn't get the chance to talk though. I heard footsteps outside the room and I threw the phone under the bed. Hopefully, he would hear from there. Door cracked open and the guy from the diner, no, the demon showed up.

"I heard you've been looking for me." His voice was smooth but it only made me annoyed. I didn't answer. He cracked a smile.

"Now you're scared? After looking for me for weeks?" I had to bite the inside of my cheek to not make any comments on that. I was not scared. I was cautious.

His attitude changed in a second and his now serious eyes looked dangerous than ever. He took a knife, my knife, from behind and pointed it to my neck.

"Talk."

"Yeah I was looking for you, so what?" I said, as annoyed as I felt. His mocking smile came back.

"There we go." He step back with the knife in his hand and continued, as he played with the knife. "The question is, why? You wanna die so bad?"

I thought to myself, this is my chance. I should ask now and then get out of here.

"I was looking for a particular demon actually. Don't know his name or vessel."

He chuckled. "And how were you planning to find him, exactly?"

"By you, of course."

"What makes you think I'll tell you?"

"Maybe because you hate him too?"

He looked me up and down with a curious look on his face. He pulled a chair opposite of me and sat down. He shook his hand that was holding the knife as if to say'Tell me about him then'. So I did. I told him about my mom and how I found her dead. I told him about how I could barely run away and save myself. I skipped the part about the diary and the boys, though. From what I've heard, Sam and Dean were kind of famous among these guys.

As I finished, he started laughing, much to my annoyance. When he was finally finished he stood up and as he paced the room, he said "Jackpot.".

I was about to ask what the hell he was talking about but he continued. "We were looking for you as well! You see, you are kind of a mistake? You were supposed to die alongside your mama but good old Jeff forgot to finish the mission. He was also afraid to tell the big guys about you so he told a few of us to kill you instead. What a coincidence!"

I gulped. I was really hoping that Sam was hearing this. Because my time seemed really limited. To give them a direction, I asked. "Where are we though? Where are you going to kill me?"

"Why, you got a death wish about the place?"

I had to play along to find out where we are. "Kind of, yeah."

"We are in an abandoned hotel, that's all you need to know."

"What state are we in?"

Suddenly, the knife was back on my throat. "Why do you keep asking? Stop annoying me." He whispered, threatening.

"Okay, okay!" I waited for him to get back, then I asked. "How long was I out?"

"I don't know, couple of hours?"

So, we were still in the same state. I was texting Sam that night so he knows where I was. The question is, can he find me with this information, did he hear it?

"Anyways, you got a death wish?"

I had to find a way to earn me some time! I looked at the windows to learn about time. It looked like morning just came.

"Y-yeah, I want- I want to die at night!" I said, panicked.

"Don't try to get smart with me." He said, still smiling but threatening at the same time.

"I am not! It's for... It's for me to be able to go to the other side, with the comfort of darkness." I was lying my ass of at this point and any other day, this would make me laugh. But now, I needed time. So I tried to sound like I believe this.

"If I die like this, I'll probably come back and haunt you because it's going to be your fault that I couldn't go to the other side."

He looked at me for a few minutes, trying to see if I was telling the truth, I suppose. Then he nodded, still playing with the knife he had.

"Fine. I'll came back and kill you when it goes dark. Don't try to escape. You won't be able to because we have the place surrounded, and I'll lose the chance to kill someone. So do both of us a favor and stay still."

With that, he walked out of the room and locked the door behind him. I hurried to the phone under my bed. The call was still on. I whispered.

"Sam?"

"We heard. Don't worry, we are on our way."

With that, he hung up. This brings me to now. I wanted to write, in case I die. I am sitting on the floor now, so that I can toss the phone under the bed once again if he comes.

I'll try to write as soon as I get out of this mess.

#sister winchester #winchester boys #winchester brothers #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn fandom #writing #writeblr #fanfiction #fanfic #diary #john winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #imaginary

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omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts · 4 years

Text

The Closest To God You Will Ever Be // Jeff Hardy part 1

Word Count: 4,726 Warnings/Tags: Smut, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints, teasing, slight choking. ________________________________________________________________ Darkness surrounded me, my arms and legs bound to the posts of the bed I'd shared with my now-husband, Jeff. A low chuckle echoed throughout the room as I bit my lip in anticipation, the bed dipping slightly.

"Y'know, you look absolutely beautiful like this darlin'. All tied up and ready for me to take control of that sweet little body of yours."

A faint whimper escaped my lips as his fingers trailed over my hips, nails digging into my skin ever so deliciously. His soft lips trailed kisses over my body, stopping only to start sucking marks on my thighs. I shifted, gasping as he bit down unexpectedly before continuing to mark me. I could almost see the hunger in his eyes, knowing that they were slowly growing darker the longer he went on. His fingers tightened their grip as he moved upward ever so slightly, sucking harsh marks over my hip bones that would inevitably turn into a dark-colored reminder of my green-eyed lover. At this, I moaned hopelessly, straining against my restraints only to feel him nip at my thigh again.

"J-Jay, please-"

I started to gasp out, his mouth leaving my body as he shifted and moved closer.

"Please what, 'Mina? Please mark you some more, so that everyone at work'll know who you belong to? Who fucks you so good? Who makes you cum so hard?"

He paused for a moment, leaning down close to my ear. His voice was rough and deep, a possessive tone seeping into his words as a hand moved from my thigh up toward my jaw only to stop at my neck. An almost carnal growl erupted from him as his fingers draped over my throat, tensing slightly before relaxing a moment later.

"I know... Maybe it's please Jeff, mark me so that every girl at work gets jealous of how good you are to me... You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I nodded frantically and strained against my restraints again, wanting desperately to pull him close and run my fingers through his hair.

"Ah ah ah, you're not going anywhere."

"Please don't tease, Jeff... Need to feel you."

My words were followed by a breathy moan as he tilted my head slightly and began sucking a mark into my neck knowing full well that with how long his marks lasted on me, it'd be unable to be covered once we got back to work. His fingers tightened around my neck for a few seconds, earning an appreciative moan from me. His other hand moved over, resting between my thighs as his fingers started to tease my entrance. My hips jerked at the touch, whining as he pulled away from me completely. The bed shifted again, the sound of clothes hitting the floor a few moments later causing me to bite my lip in anticipation.

"If you don't like my teasing, then why are you moaning, doll?"

His fingers teased my entrance again, tongue licking stripes over my hips and thighs.

"Daddy, I need you! Please just take me already... I'm begging you, Nero..."

He growled lowly, a hand resting on my throat again. He was undoubtedly smirking, his free hand trailing over my body. A gasp fell from my lips as he raked his nails over my skin, my teeth catching my lip between them as my back arched at the slight pain. Pleasure spiked through my body as he eased two fingers into my entrance and curled them, my back arching again as his tongue lapped at my clit eagerly. His fingers moved skillfully, knowing every spot that made me beg and on more than one occasion, scream for him. I whined, rocking my hips in an attempt to fuck myself on his fingers. His mouth moved up to my chest, sucking on and marking my chest.

"Jeff, I'm begging you... Please fuck me! Wanna feel you buried deep inside me, please!"

"Mmm... There's my sexy, needy girl. Begging for Daddy's hard cock, just how I like."

His fingers slipped out of me a few moments before he settled between my thighs and allowed me to feel just how hard he was through his boxers as he rolled his hips against mine, my mouth falling open at the feeling. An appreciative hum escaped him, and I could only imagine that he was sucking his fingers clean like he'd done so many times before.

"Oh..!"

"Like what you feel?"

"So much..."

I rolled my hips against his, smirking as he groaned and tightened his fingers around my throat for a few seconds before easing up a bit. He leaned down and kissed me passionately, tongue swiping over mine as an arm slipped under my back and held me close to him. I kissed back, playfully rubbing my tongue against his and moaning teasingly. After a few minutes, Jeff pulled back and slipped out of his boxers, both of us panting softly. I licked my lips, imagining what kind of view I'd have. Perhaps it would be wild dark green eyes, muscles shifting and flexing as my lover stretched to rid himself of the material that had felt too tight, too much for far longer than he could take. Or maybe I would find myself looking into equally wild white eyes as he tore out of the restrictive clothing, his painted nails trailing down his body to tease me as a smirk formed at the edge of his almost pillow-like lips, his hand stopping to take hold of the cock I craved so desperately. Would he stay silent, smirk growing slightly as he raised a brow to silently ask the question he knew I would answer before he could finish it? Would he tease and start to slowly jerk his cock as he asked just how much I needed him to fill me, or if I wanted him to fuck me hard enough so that the neighbors knew his name...

The feeling of him teasing my entrance with the head of his cock snapped me out of my thoughts, a gasp falling from my lips as he ground against me.

"J-Jay!"

My arms pulled against the restraints, back arching slightly.

"Stay still and close your eyes for a minute, angel. I've got one thing to do, then I'm gonna give you what you want. Think you can do that for me?"

"Yes, sir."

I relaxed, biting my lip at the groan that erupted from his throat when I answered. My eyes closed and after a few moments, I felt him slip the blindfold off before pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

"Open those pretty eyes of yours, darlin', let me see you."

His voice was still rough, but softer as I felt his thumb rub over my cheek. My eyes opened and I blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting, thankful he'd dimmed it before slipping the blindfold on earlier. A smile etched itself across his lips as his dark green eyes searched mine, his other hand still holding me close to him.

"Hey, you." "Hi to you too, beautiful."

My cheeks heated up a bit as he bent down a bit and began trailing kisses across my chest.

"What would you like me to do, darlin'?"

His tongue rubbed over a nipple, playing with my barbell piercing as he gently tugged at it.

"Anything you want, Daddy."

"No... I got everything I wanted. My everything was you, babe. I got it when you became my wife. It's all about you now."

"Make me yours."

I moaned out, rocking my hips against his to get at least some relief from how turned on my lover had made me. He pressed a kiss over my heart before sitting up a bit and taking the restraints off of me. I eagerly grabbed his waist, flipping us over and smirking as I ground my hips against him. His hands came to rest on my hips, fingers spread to grab as much of me as he could manage.

"Think you've teased enough, Mister Hardy..."

"What're you- Fuck!"

A groan fell from his lips as I eased myself down onto his cock, his eyes closing for a few moments as I moaned at how full I felt. Leaning down, I licked a stripe up his neck before kissing him deeply and rocking my hips just slow enough to tease him. One of his hands moved to my neck as he deepened the kiss and bucked his hips, fingers resting on the nape of my neck to hold me in place for a little while. I let a hand rest on his chest, feeling vibrations from a growl under my fingers as I started to work him faster. He pulled away after a few minutes, eyes opening and searching mine for a moment before flipping us over again. His hand moved down to my leg and wrapped it around his hip before thrusting into me, his other hand lifting my hips just enough so that he could hit the spot deep inside me that drove me wild.

"You feel so damn good wrapped around my cock, darlin.' So damn tight..."

He leaned down, marking up my neck again and thrusting harder at every sound that he drew out of me.

"Sound so good too... All those pretty sounds you make drive me crazy."

"All for you, Jay."

I moaned out, moving my hips with his and gasping as he brushed against the deepest parts of me. My nails dug into his shoulders as I wrapped my other leg around him to keep him close to my body, eyes closing as I let my head tilt back slightly. He sucked a few marks along my jaw, the sensations bringing me close to the edge as he continued talking dirty.

"You're so close, aren't you? So close to coming undone for Daddy..."

"So close, Daddy... Wanna cum so badly!"

He left small bites along my collar bone as one hand slipped between us before he started to rub my clit, quickly bringing me right to the edge of bliss.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, alright?"

"Y-yes, Daddy!"

He continued to rub my clit, getting himself close not long after. I scratched at his back, crying out at the overstimulation as he bit at the junction between my neck and shoulder. My body teetered dangerously close to betraying him as his blissful torture continued, threatening to fall over the edge as the minutes dragged on.

"Cum for me, baby, let it go."

He growled lowly as my body tensed, shivering as I used my legs to pull him closer and let my orgasm finally wash over me.

"Where do you want me to cum, darlin'?"

He panted quietly, visibly trying to hold back from completely letting go.

"Fill me, please Jeff... It's okay, I promise. I want you to just let go."

A pleasured groan fell from his lips as his arms wrapped around my waist and held me against him, his cock pulsing wonderfully as he came just as hard, hips stilling as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. We stayed like this for a few minutes, murmuring sweet nothings to each other as we came down from our highs and held each other close.

"I love you, Jay."

"I love you too, Jess. More than you could ever imagine."

*Eight years Later*

Waking up, I stretched and rubbed my eyes only to find that Jeff was nowhere to be found. The house seemed almost eerily quiet as I got out of bed, walking toward our daughters' room. A quiet noise hit my ears as I stood in the doorway, hand resting on my stomach. Jeff stood between the girls' beds, singing softly. I walked into the room, smiling and rubbing my free hand over his back. He looked over, a smile playing across his lips. Our youngest was curled up against his chest, head resting in the crook of his neck as she slept contentedly.

"Why're you up so early?"

I murmured as I let my head rest on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it as my hand moved so that I could rub a thumb over our daughter's cheek.

"She woke up, and you needed sleep. It's not easy growing a full human being, you know."

Turning his head slightly, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"You didn't have to, Nero. I would've woken up and gotten her back to sleep, it wouldn't have been a big deal."

"Nah. It's nothin, darlin'. Besides. You do a lot for me, and our girls. You deserve some time to relax."

I turned toward him, getting on tiptoes and kissing him softly.

"Hey, Jeff?"

I asked after pulling back, looking up into his gorgeous green eyes.

"Yeah, sugar?"

"Thanks for being my best friend for so long, protecting me, making sure I'm okay, for loving me... And thank you for staying with me through everything we've been through. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been by my side..."

My voice trailed off as I teared up a bit, thinking of a few times before we'd announced major events in our lives where some of the roster made some extremely rude and unprofessional comments toward us. I'd gotten more than a few reprimands from Vince due to me fighting back, but I'd learned not to care. Things changed during the period before I announced that I was expecting, though. A few members of the roster had gone so far as to try to jump me or fight me outside of the ring at almost every show I was a part of, to the point where Jeff and Matt had to beg Vince to get a locker room with me just to make sure I would be okay. They knew I couldn't have fought back, so they decided that they would become my permanent bodyguards as long as I was in the company.

"Hey, darlin', it's alright. You're my girl, and I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Not then, not now, and sure as hell not ever. I love you and our girls more than life itself, and I'll be damned if anyone tries to harm my family."

He carefully shifted our daughter to the other arm, wrapping his now free arm around my shoulders. His thumbs rubbed over my skin in an effort to calm me down, pressing kisses to my forehead.

"I love you, Nero..."

"I love you too, Jess."

We stood there for a few minutes in silence as we watched over our daughters.

"Hey, sugar? I know somethin' that'll turn that frown upside down."

"What's that?"

"Today, we get to take the girls to see their Aunts and Uncles! Plus, if you're feeling up to it, we could announce the newest little enigma."

I nodded, smiling at the idea.

"That actually sounds fun for once... Especially now that there's not so many people willing to fight me with you or Matty around anymore. Nobody'd bother to fight a chubby woman like me anyway."

Jeff took a step back, eyes looking me over before meeting mine, brows furrowed as a confused look etched across his face.

"Chubby... Honey, you're pregnant. That-"

He paused for a moment, free hand rubbing over the small swell of my stomach gently.

"That's all baby. You are beautiful, anyone who says anything different is a liar. You've grown human beings, given life, fought your way through the fires of hell, clawed and climbed your way to the life you'd always dreamed of... Fuck... You're a goddess, darlin'. Absolutely perfect in every way, shape, and form. Whether you're a size two, twelve, or twenty-two, you're still gonna be the sexiest woman in the room."

Looking down at my baby bump, I let my fingers intertwine with his before looking back up at him after a few moments.

"You're the best husband a girl could ask for, you know that?"

"I'm not, but I try my hardest to be as good of a husband I can be. It does help that I've known you basically my entire life, so I've gotten the chance to spend my days with an incredible woman who knows how to keep a grip on me when I need it."

I smiled, stepping toward him before leaning up and pressing a soft, small kiss to his lips.

"I still stand by my statement, best husband ever. Even if it took almost an entire lifetime to realize that we should've been together from the start."

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

"C'mon darlin', let's go work on breakfast then lay in bed for a few more hours. We don't have to be there until two anyway."

Jeff and I walked hand in hand into the building a few hours later, Nera on his hip and Ruby walking beside me as I carried the go bag over my shoulder. His thumb tapped against the back of my hand three times, mine mirroring the action as we walked toward where our found family was. Matt, Reby, and Michelle caught sight of us as we found a place to sit, only sitting with us once we'd gotten adjusted.

"Long time no see, strangers. How's it going?"

Jeff leaned over after hugging our family, Ruby letting me go as she ran to Matt. I smiled, catching the awestruck look on his face that very rarely had left his handsome features since the girls were born.

"It's good! Life is as crazy and wonderful as ever. How're things with you guys?"

Michelle smiled, Jeff getting settled as Reby and Matt played with Ruby which caused me to chuckle.

"Things are amazing with myself, Mark and the kids. Life really couldn't be better for all of us, it seems."

"All's good at the Hardy compound! Maxel and Wolfie have been going crazy, trying to figure out when they can see their girls again."

Matt laughed and I followed suit a few moments later, looking up at him and grinning.

"Already? It's only been a week or two!"

"What can I say? They love these girls more than anything else, probably a little more than Reby and I."

"I wouldn't go that far, but it's pretty close."

Reby chimed in and I nodded, a small noise bringing my attention to Nera who'd woken up from her nap. Jeff pressed a kiss to her forehead as she reached out to me as I set the bag down, sitting down and letting Jeff set her on my lap before wrapping my arms around her.

"Hi there pretty girl, did you have a good nap?"

She nodded happily, giggling as I tickled over her side.

"Yes, Mama."

Michelle's smile grew a tiny bit as Nera looked over toward her and let go of me, making grabby hands toward her as I chuckled.

"You want Auntie Missy, Nera?"

"Pretty please?"

"What do you say, Missy? You up for cuddles?"

"Jess, the only time I'm not in the mood for cuddles is when I'm in the ring."

I carefully helped her off my lap before she ran to her favorite Aunt. A true smile showing as the women I considered sisters cuddled and doted on her. She cuddled close to Michelle, playing with Reby's hands as I stretched and looked around the table. Matt and Jeff were talking, my babies were fine, and life was good. A gentle nudge from Jeff brought me out of my thoughts as I looked over at him, his eyes studying mine as his free hand played with the hem of my mesh shirt.

"Do you want me to grab us some food, babydoll? I know it's been a while since you ate last, and I wanna make sure my girl's okay."

I nodded, Jeff getting up and pressing a kiss to the top of my head before heading off to grab us something to eat. I blushed slightly, still as shy and bashful around Jeff as I'd been when we first started dating. My knee started to bounce a bit as my mind began to wander, Matt moving to sit where Jeff had before rubbing my back.

"Hey, what's goin' through your head right now?"

Michelle and Reby looked up, both of their brows furrowing with worry as the girls played around with each other.

"Just thinking about some things Jay and I talked about on the way over here."

"You guys alright?"

"Absolutely!"

I paused as Jeff walked back to the table, two plates in hand and drinks in the other as he looked between Matt and I and raised a brow curiously.

"Trying to steal my wife, Matt?"

My eyes met my partner's as everyone erupted into laughter, Jeff setting the items in his hands down before sitting in the seat next to Reby and playfully smirking as Ruby crawled onto his lap.

"'Cause if you are, well... I'm gonna have to call dibs on Reby and the boys."

I gasped, setting a hand over my heart as I raised a brow slightly.

"You would just give up the four of us like that?"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

The other three laughed as I glanced around, hoping Jeff was the only one who'd caught what I said. He grinned as my eyes met his, shaking his head.

"You know I would never give you guys up, you sneaky minx."

I giggled and nodded, Reby's head almost snapping up as she stared intensely at me. My eyes shifted to meet hers as I blushed lightly, her mouth falling open barely.

"Wait... What did you just say?"

"I didn't say a thing, Reby. Promise."

A grin formed as a laugh from behind me gave me an opportunity to slip into another conversation. Tilting my head back, I met Mark's smiling face. He looked down at me, shaking his head slightly before he moved to my side and pulled up a chair next to Michelle.

"That was impressive, Jess."

"I think so, too."

As I shifted, Ruby laid back against Matt’s arm and giggled as I started eating a bit.

"So, do you know what it is yet?"

Mark asked, Reby still seeming to try to figure out what we were talking about. Michelle and Matt seemed too wrapped up with the girls to have figured it out yet, which left Jeff trying to hold back his laughter as he looked over at Mark.

"I found out a few weeks ago. Little miss sneaky over there has been trying to get me to tell her."

He piped in, Matt looking up at him curiously.

"I can't help it! You keep teasing me and acting like you're gonna tell me, but end up saying something totally different."

I stuck my tongue out at my husband, causing him to smirk as Mark shook his head at us.

"What's up?"

"Have you noticed something just a little bit off about Jess, Matt?"

He turned back toward me, sitting back a bit.

"Not really... Aside from the little bit of leftover baby weight, I guess."

I couldn't help but let a little laugh escape me as I shook my head.

"I worked off all the baby weight, Matty..."

He looked me over, moving to shake his head but stopping as he looked between Jeff and I.

"Wait..."

I took his hand, letting it rest on the curve of my stomach as I felt a small string of kicks and nudges start. He grinned as Reby gasped, snapping Michelle out of her world as she looked between Jeff and I as well. His hand moved upward as he gave me a gentle hug.

"You're kidding!"

Jeff got up, walking behind me and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Nope... The girls are gonna be big sisters!"

Michelle leaned forward, studying me.

"I have questions."

"Shoot."

"How far along are you, how did you two hide this, and what are you having?"

Jeff laughed, Ruby moving to sit on Matt's lap before resting her head on his chest as his arm wrapped instinctively around her. I tilted my head slightly, looking up at him and smiling softly.

"Should I answer all of those, or do you wanna chime in, handsome?"

"Whichever's good with you, babydoll. Though if I'm gonna be honest, I wanna answer two of those real bad."

I nodded a tiny bit, looking back to Michelle and giggling as an impatient look started to etch across her features as well as Reby and Matt's.

"Someone oughta tell 'em before they burst."

Mark laughed, Jeff nodding.

"We're five and a half months along."

My words seemed to only fuel my family's need to hear all of the answers, Reby's eyes widening as Jeff's voice piped in.

"Hiding it was pretty easy, and honestly we were betting on how long it would take you guys to realize that Jess was starting to show again. Her not really showing until earlier last month helped too. As far as if we know what the newest little enigma is--"

He paused, grinning and nodding.

"I've known for a while. The girls know and were sworn to secrecy. Jess doesn't."

"He's been keeping it from me for a month and a half. We were talking about him possibly telling everyone once we got here, but I have no idea how he'd manage it."

His free hand rubbed my shoulder as my attention went to Ruby, who'd opened her mouth to say something but clamped a hand over it instead. His finger gently tapping on her nose as her free hand wrapped around his other fingers.

"Daddy showed you what I got for Mama's little baby while I was getting my surprise ready, didn't I girls?"

They nodded, Nera playing with his tattoos as I looked to him with a brow raised slightly.

"Surprise? Would that be why you took so long getting the girls ready before we left?"

"Perhaps, darlin'. But you won't find out what it is for a little bit."

I shook my head, sighing in amusement.

"You're a problem, Jeffrey Hardy."

"Yeah, but you love me, Jessamine Hardy."

We talked a bit more until Jeff stepped back from the table and mentioned that he had a new look he wanted to show us.

"Matt, mind coming to the bathroom with me to help out?"

Matt nodded before getting up with Ruby and following him, leaving me and the others to look at each other in confusion.

"New look?"

Reby questioned, looking between myself and Michelle. I shrugged, Mark chuckling as he and Nera played around a bit. Michelle looked to him with her brow raised, my eyes drifting to Ruby who'd taken to playing with my tattoos.

"Have you and Jeff thought of names yet?"

A knowing smile found its place on my lips as I looked to three of my closest friends, nodding slightly.

"I told him I had a few ideas, but haven't told any of them to him yet. We've been keeping our names a secret, just like he's kept Baby Enigma's gender a secret."

"Fair enough... While he's gone, mind telling us? We won't tell him or Matt, we swear!"

I laughed softly at my sister-in-law's curiosity, Mark raising his brow just enough to non-verbally question if I was going to.

"If it's a boy, I've been thinking about either William Moore after the best uncles a baby could ask for or Caleb James. If it's a girl, either Lyric Rose or Rebecca Michelle."

Everyone smiled, our conversation shifting toward what we wanted to do for Christmas. A few minutes later, Matt arrived back at the table just as we'd decided that we would have a big get together at the Hardy Compound. Mark carefully took Nera and set her on his lap, her hands grasping at his tattoos as she got comfortable in his arms and curled into the warmth of them.

"Any chance I could ask you what your brother's up to?"

Matt shook his head, mimicking locking his lips.

"The only thing I'm allowed to tell you is that he intends on using this look very soon to announce something to the rest of our wrestling family."

[To Be Continued...]

#Jeff Hardy #smut #imagine #domestic life

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the-real-srsteele · 4 years

Text

Have Yourself a Merry Little Chaos Chapter 7

Connie’s POV:

“Jules, where did you put my hairspray?” I hollered from the top of the stairs.

“Oh, sorry, it’s in my room on the dresser,” she yelled back up at me.

“Naturally,” I muttered, rushing off to give my hair a quick touch-up before Jeff arrived.

“Hey, wait!” Jules called after me. “Step out on the stairs to I can see you!”

I reluctantly obliged, struggling to keep my balance atop my high heels, which were already pinching the feeling out of my toes.

“Wow, Connie, that dress is killer!” She gushed.

I shot her a questioning look. “That’s a good thing, I hope?”

She giggled. “Of course it is. You look amazing.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” I responded doubtfully, dashing off to my room before she could make more of a fuss over me.

I hoped she was telling the truth. Whatever I looked like, I felt like a fish out of water. The flashy red evening gown I wore was definitely a far cry from my typical sweater and jeans combo. I’d picked the simplest option Jules had presented to me at the mall, but it was still the fanciest (and most expensive) dress I had ever owned.

In addition to the dress, Jules had insisted I wear lipstick, which was about as foreign to me as the menus at La Chalet. It felt strange and sticky against my skin and made me feel immensely self-conscious every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. It looked good, I guess. It just didn’t look like me.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser, barely recognizing the person staring back at me. Am I forgetting anything? I asked myself, trying to collect my racing thoughts.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, nearly startling me out of my skin. With trembling fingers, I grabbed my shimmery black clutch purse and began a hasty descent down the stairs.

Jules stopped me short at the bottom.

“No, no, no—go back upstairs for a minute or something.”

“Why?” I shot her a confused glance.

“You can’t come to the door right away. You have to make him wait a little bit.”

“Again, why? And wouldn’t that be…rude?” I protested.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re late for everything else anyway.”

“Hey, I’ve been working on that. And besides—”

She cut me off. “Connie. Just shoo.”

And with that, she waved me away upstairs.

Back in my room and not quite sure what to do with myself, I sat down on the edge of my bed and strained to hear as Jules welcomed Jeff inside.

“Hey, Jeff! Come on in. She’ll just be a minute.”

She introduced him to Gigi, and he greeted her cordially. It amazed me how effortlessly he was able to make conversation, even with a complete stranger.

How long is “a minute or something”? I wondered, nervously fidgeting with my necklace. After a while, there was a lull in the conversation, and I decided it had been long enough. I stood, looked myself over in the mirror once more and headed for the stairs.

My breath caught in my throat as he came into view. He looked absolutely stunning. His ebony suit superbly complimented his dark eyes, enhancing their boyish sparkle. I gripped the stair rail as I made my descent, careful to avoid any missteps.

Our eyes met, and my heart gave a weird thump. I was grateful when he spoke first.

“Wow, Connie, you look beautiful.” He sounded sincere enough, but I couldn’t be sure if he meant it, or if he was just being polite.

“Really?” I half-croaked, unintentionally crinkling up my nose at the compliment. “Uh, I mean, thanks. You look great, too. Really, really great.” No, no, no, no. Too much. I felt my cheeks flush. My eyes flickered over to Jules, imploring her to come to my rescue. She read my signal and snapped into action.

“So, uh, how long are you party animals planning on staying out tonight?” she asked, interrupting the awkward silence I’d created.

“As late as our parents will let us, I suppose,” Jeff joked back. “What do you think, Connie? You don’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight or anything, do you?”

I laughed stiffly and opened up the hall closet to rummage for my dress coat, suddenly wishing I’d remembered to have it dry cleaned. I fished it out and flung it over my left arm, fumbling for the other sleeve with my right.

“May I?” I hadn’t heard him come up behind me, and the closeness of his voice startled me. I nodded silently. Then, ever-so-gently, he lifted the offending sleeve and guided it over my flailing arm.

“Thanks.” I forced another awkward laugh and then just stood there for a moment, staring up at him. Why had I suddenly lost all ability to speak and act like a normal human being?

“So, are you ready to go?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah.”

“After you, then.”

He swept the door open and gestured for me to go on ahead of him.

It took extra concentration to keep from crashing down the front steps in those wretched shoes, but I made it without mishap.

He followed me out to his sleek, black Mazda and held the door open for me as I ducked into the passenger seat.

An instant later, he was beside me in the driver’s seat, starting the engine.

“Are you cold?” he asked, holding one hand experimentally in front of the heat vent. “I can turn up the heat if you want.”

I shrugged. “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay, just promise me you’ll tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

I nodded. I did, in fact, feel quite uncomfortable, but it wasn’t because of the temperature. I noticed my hands were trembling as I locked my seatbelt in place. Why was I so nervous? It was just an evening out with a friend. Nothing to be nervous about, right?

He turned the radio dial to the Christmas music station, and I felt a silly smile spread across my face. Most people teased me about my soundtrack of choice during this time of year, but Jeff indulged it gladly.

I caught the answering sparkle in his eye as he shifted the gear and started to back out of the driveway.

“Hey, listen.” His voice was calm and reassuring—I figured he must have sensed my nervous energy. “I’m so glad you agreed to come with me tonight, Connie. There are going to be some really great people there that I can’t wait for you to meet.”

“Like who?” I asked.

For some reason, I hadn’t considered the fact that I’d potentially be meeting dozens of strangers at this event. Strangers who would ask me all kinds of questions about my career, my relationships, where I was going in life. All the kinds of questions I never had a good answer to.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” His answer broke into my thoughts.

“Wait and see what?”

“You asked me who I wanted you to meet tonight.” He paused briefly. “Are you feeling okay? You seem kind of distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. There’s just a lot on my mind right now.”

He nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I know. I guess I was just hoping tonight might help take your mind off everything.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Jeff. I really appreciate that.”

“You’re going to have a great time tonight. I promise.” His smile gave me butterflies.

Suddenly, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

He shrugged agreeably. “Go for it.”

“Okay, um…” I took a deep breath. It was too late to back out now. “Is this…like…a date?” The words tumbled out like melted ice cream from a spilled milkshake.

He raised an eyebrow and took his eyes off the road for a brief moment to venture a glance at me. “Would you like it to be?”

“Um…yes? NO. I don’t know…maybe?” I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat.

He laughed. “Well, which is it?”

“Well, uh…I’d kinda rather hear what you think first, so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“So I’m on the hook now, huh?” He laughed again.

“I’m sorry, I just—” He didn’t let me finish.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I was just kidding.” He took a deep breath and then continued. “To be honest, it’s an easy answer for me. Yes, Connie. Without a question. You are an amazing woman, and I would be honored if you might consider me as, well…more than a friend.”

“Oh, wow, uh, okay.” I started to babble, a million thoughts racing through my mind all at once.

He immediately looked concerned. “Was it okay that I said that?”

“No, no, no,” I stammered. “I mean—yes, it’s totally okay. I just…didn’t expect it.”

“Why not?” He looked a little bewildered. “You mean a lot to me, Connie. And I hope I’ve shown you that.”

He had shown me, hadn’t he? The late-night text conversations when I’d wake up missing Mom. The random grocery deliveries that always seemed to show up at exactly the right times. The hours-long talks about God and about life. He’d invested a lot in me over the past few years. And he’d come to mean a lot to me, too.

“You have, Jeff. And I…” I couldn’t think of the right words to say. “Thank you.”

He looked at me and smiled, his eyes meeting mine and filling in the rest of the unsaid words between us.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take us long after that to slip back into our typical easy, friendly chatter. I was almost sorry when we pulled up at the valet stand and had to go inside.

My eyes widened as we entered the enormous, brightly-lit room. Every inch of the place was decked out in holiday splendor.

“It’s beautiful,” I gasped.

“I knew you’d like it.”

I hoped he didn’t find my amazement too childish.

A man in a white tuxedo walked by, carrying a tray of delicate stemware filled with bubbly amber liquid. Jeff stealthily swept two glasses from the tray and handed one to me. Following my questioning gaze, he stooped down and whispered, “It’s sparkling cider.”

I giggled a bit foolishly and took a sip.

The rest of the evening went by almost in a blur. Jeff made me feel instantly at home with everyone he introduced me to and invited me to join in on every conversation. I couldn’t imagine anything I had to say was really all that interesting, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He hung on my every word, as if each one were of utmost importance.

But then again, he was always like that��attentive and considerate, always making sure the other person knew they mattered.

And with every new acquaintance, I felt myself growing more and more proud to be by his side.

#adventures in odyssey #aio #aio fanfic #fanfiction #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #connie kendall #jules kendall #jeff lewis

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rawmeanderson · 5 years

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bring you back to me ― part iv

ft. jeff skinner plot: when your high school sweetheart gets traded to the same city where you now live and work, your best friend just can’t mind her own business ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings. swearing, drinking, a lil bit of steam~ word count: 6.7k notes at the end!!!

You weren’t sure that time had ever passed so slowly as it did as you waited for Sunday.

Friday night after Jeff left your place, you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as you replayed the kiss over and over in your head. The longer you thought about it, the harder it was to fall asleep. Jeff was so much more confident now, the difference was obvious, and that made it even harder to get him off your mind.

To say you fantasized about him that night would be putting it lightly. You hated that just kissing him for that far too short moment seemed to completely ignite your libido, leaving your mind absolutely stuck on his mouth.

Saturday dragged on and on, and you were restless as you forced yourself to run some errands, to clean up a bit around the house. Jeff texted you here and there between practice and spending some time at the gym, and you toyed with the idea of inviting him over. You’d always considered yourself to be independent, and you liked your alone time, but now, all you wanted was for Jeff to be there with you.

Lydia showed up unannounced with pizza and wine sometime in the evening, which turned into the two of you watching Great British Bake Off and bitching about work. It was a nice distraction after having spent most of the day in your own head, and to your surprise, she didn’t bring up Jeff but you were willing to bet that she desperately wanted to. You felt rather sly, Snapping and texting back and forth with Jeff while you and Lydia relaxed, like it was your own little secret.

Lydia stayed late, until you were both practically dozing off on the couch, before heading home, and when she asked what you were doing the next day, that’s why you let it slip that you were seeing Jeff again. She was impressed that you’d kept it quiet, and offered a wink on her way out the door that of course had you rolling your eyes.

With the house to yourself again, you took the wine glasses to the sink and left the empty pizza box on the counter to take out to the trash later. You’re feeling drowsy, but you force yourself to wash your face and throw a load of towels in the wash before getting changed for bed. Your phone buzzes on the end table as you’re tugging on a pair of sweats, and when you reach for it, a grin slides onto your face after seeing that the message is from Jeff.

You climb into bed as you read his message, pulling your blankets over your lap. He’s asking if he can call you, and without bothering to reply, you instead lift the phone to your ear to call him. As it rings, you chew on your bottom lip, feeling slightly nervous for some reason. Jeff answers quickly though, and your heart leaps the second you hear his voice.

“Hey, I’m glad you were still up,” he says, sounding rather tired. You wonder if he’s in bed like you are, and part of you wishes the two of you were on FaceTime so you could see him smile.

“Yeah, Lydia took off about ten minutes ago, so I’m just now climbing into bed,” you tell him, your free hand coming up to push your hair out of your face. You settle into bed a little more, sinking back against the pillows.

“I’ve been watching TV in bed for the last hour, it’s been pretty nice,” Jeff says, letting out a quiet breath of laughter. “A couple of the guys tried to talk me into going out tonight, but I really just wanted a lazy Saturday night.” His words get a laugh out of you this time as well, and it’s honestly just so nice to hear his voice, especially with how soft and warm it was right now.

“I think Lydia and I managed to watch almost half a season of Bake Off tonight, and I don’t know why I let myself binge that show. Every time, without fail, it just makes me want to bake like crazy, even though I’m not really that good at baking.” You feel like you’re rambling a bit by then, but it makes Jeff laugh.

“I remember when we tried to make a cake for your parents’ anniversary the one year and it somehow was hard as a rock,” he teases, laughing after he’s finished speaking. You scoff before laughing along with him, shaking your head at the memory.

“Hey, I still maintain that that was Logan’s fault somehow,” you say, still trying to defend yourself all these years later. Your cheek are flushed, and really, you’re just so happy to be talking to him, even when it’s just this playful banter. “Besides, even if I did manage to fuck up the cake that badly, I’m sure I’m a lot better at baking now than I was at 14.”

“I dunno if I believe you, honestly,” he says, obviously just trying to bug you by then. You hate that it’s working, and you can imagine that he’s grinning, quite pleased with himself. It doesn’t take long before you’re scoffing again, quickly changing the subject.

“Is there a reason you wanted me to call you, or did you just want to drive me insane all night?” you ask, trying your best to sound irritated but it doesn’t quite work.

“Believe it or not, there was a reason,” he says, and you can practically hear his grin through the phone. “I, uh, figured we might want to iron out some plans for tomorrow.” There’s a sudden nervousness to his voice then, and it bleeds right into you, making your cheeks burn in the dark.

“Oh...yeah,” you pause to exhale a laugh. “That’s a good idea, actually.” He laughs with you then, and he clears his throat before speaking.

“So, I’ve kind of got something planned, but I wanted to run it by you first, to make sure it wasn’t...too much or anything,” he explains, that nervousness settling into the tone of his voice again. “There’s this Italian place that a couple of my teammates are obsessed with, and it’s pretty fancy, like I don’t think I can even pronounce the name of the place, and I―”

“Jeff, please don’t feel like we have to do anything over the top,” you interrupt quickly, biting your lip afterwards. You sink down into the mattress more, shifting between the sheets in an effort to get comfortable.

“I know that, but after all of those cheap dates I took you on in high school, I feel like I’ve got to step up my game now,” Jeff tells you, and immediately, both of you are laughing before he continues on a moment later. “I’ve got a couple good back up ideas too.”

“No, no, I’m totally on board with the fancy Italian place, trust me,” you assure him, still grinning widely to yourself.

He exhales then, sounding rather relieved, and you laugh again. “Okay, good,” he says, and you can all but hear him relax. It still amazes you that it’s so easy for him to make you feel like a nervous, lovesick teenager all over again and it’s becoming more obvious at least that you have the same effect on him as well. “Do we wanna do dinner at 6 then?”

“Uh, yeah, that works for me,” you tell him, voice rather soft then as you feel excitement bubble in your stomach now that plans are set in stone for tomorrow. You’re quite for a moment as you chew on your bottom lip. “Any chance I’ll be able to talk you into hanging around at my place for a while after dinner?”

“You’ll just have to say please,” he teases, making you roll your eyes, because of course he won’t just make things easy on you.

“Oh, well, we’ll see if I’m up for that tomorrow then,” you respond, trying to sound as noncommittal as possible, even shrugging to yourself for dramatic effect. Jeff thinks it’s funny at least, and he laughs softly. You can damn near imagine him smiling at you, and just that thought has you exhaling a quiet sigh.

“What are you thinking?” he asks a moment later, and there’s a gentleness to his voice that makes you want to curl up into him and never move.

“Nothing really, just that I’m excited to see you tomorrow,” you tell him, picking a piece of fuzz off your shirt idly as you try not to think about how warm his hands had been when they were resting on your waist last night.

He’s quiet for a moment, almost to the point that you feel antsy. “I’m excited too, trust me. I’m glad we’ll finally just get to spend a good chunk of time together all at once,” he says, and by that point, you’re smiling so hard that your face hurts.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” you respond, trying to ignore the warmth that’s settling through your body in response to his words.

The two of you end up talking a while longer until you can’t stop yawning, and one of the last things Jeff says is that he can’t wait to see you the next day. You doze off easily, thinking about him and how eager you are to have him to yourself for several hours.

By early Sunday afternoon, you’re kicking yourself for thinking Saturday had passed slowly, because today, waiting for six o’clock to arrive it actually felt like time was moving backwards. Jeff seemed just as impatient, really, and the two of you spent most of the day texting, stemming from the good morning text you woke up to. Lydia texted you a few times as well, mostly just to bother you about the date. Now that she knew about it, she had no problem being nosy it seemed.

Jeff showed up a little earlier than you’d anticipated, and because you’d been in the bathroom trying to make your hair look decent, you’d missed his text that he was heading your way. As soon as you heard the knock on the door, you were cursing under your breath as you try to get your earrings in, padding barefoot down the hall to let him in.

“You’re super early,” you say as you swing open the door, and it’s a good thing you started speaking when you did because seeing him standing there in a suit makes your mind go blank.

You’d seen him in suits after the games you’d been to, but now? Damn, he looked good. He’d gone without a tie, and his shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way up. Just as you realize that you’re practically staring at him, you notice that his eyes are on you just as much as yours had been on him.

“You….look incredible, wow,” he murmurs eventually, eyes lifting to your face as he flashes you a grin. You feel your cheeks heat up as you grin, stepping to the side to let him step into the foyer. His eyes are still on you, taking you in, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve only got one earring in,” you respond with a quick laugh, trying to sound modest as you remember that the other is still in your hand. At least putting the other earring in gave you a short distraction from how good he looked. You’re dressed at least, which is better than nothing. After worrying about what to wear to such a fancy place, you opted for the classic little black dress, deciding that simple was the way to go.

“Well, I trust me, I wasn’t looking at your ears,” Jeff says, clearing his throat a second later and stuffing his hands in his pockets like he’s worried what he’d said came off weird. The words make you snort though and you grin, your hands smoothing down the front of your dress as you look at him. You meet eyes and you’re both quiet for a beat, both of you grinning at each other like you don’t know what to do next.

“I, uh..I should put some shoes on, uh, then I’ll be ready to go,” you tell him, stumbling over your words a bit. He nods, biting his lip and you see his eyes drag over your frame again. You’re about to turn away from him, to run back to your room where your heels were waiting, but instead, you step toward him.

He must be having the same thoughts as you then, because as soon as you’re close enough, his arm is settling around your waist to pull you even closer. “I missed you,” he tells you, the words half whispered as you look up at him with a grin.

“I missed you too,” you reply, loving the smile that spreads across his face in response to your words. The dimple is driving you extra crazy today for some reason, and you tilt your head up enough to kiss his cheek softly.

You’re about to pull away when he says your name quietly and you look at him through your eyelashes. His hand comes up to cup your face, and his eyes move over your features slowly, leaving you feeling a bit impatient. Just when you’re about to say something, he kisses you, soft and almost lazy as the two of you stand there in your foyer.

You raise an arm to settle it around his neck in an effort to keep him close, your other hand resting against his chest as you lean into him. He’s warm, and you can smell his cologne, and you’re already feeling so weak for him that you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle looking at him in that suit all night. Despite the burning need in your stomach, you manage to keep the kiss slow and easy, and you force yourself to pull back after sliding your tongue along his bottom lip.

“I should go put some shoes on,” you repeat with a breathless giggle as you try to pull back. His arms still tight around your waist though, and he’s grinning, cheeks flushed, as he keeps you held in place close to him.

“Yeah, you should,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your mouth. It’s short, but firm enough to have you practically melting against him, and just as quickly as he’s pulled your body to his, he’s letting you go. “Otherwise, we’re gonna end up missing our reservation.” He’s grinning at you then, biting his bottom lip, and there’s a mischievous look in his eye that leaves you feeling weak in the knees.

You use the time it takes to grab your shoes from your room to try and slow your heart rate, hoping that somehow you can forget about just how sexually frustrated you are and get through dinner without wanting to tear that suit off of him. With your shoes on, you leave your room a moment later, and find Jeff looking around your living room, particularly interested in the photos on your bookshelf.

“Glad to know the NHL hasn’t snapped you out of your nosiness,” you tease, and he jumps like he hadn’t heard you coming. A flush colors his cheeks quickly as he turns to face you, and a smile slides onto his face.

“I’m in this picture!” he says, pointing to one and sounding rather happy about it. Realization washes over you, and you feel a little guilty that you’d forgotten he was in one of the photos you’d had framed and on display in every place you’ve lived since college.

“Honestly, I forgot you were in that one,” you admit, smiling nonetheless as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

“I see how it is,” he murmurs, shooting you a skeptical look that makes you roll your eyes with a laugh. He’s grinning again a second later, his attention leaving the photo frames to move toward you again. “You ready now?” His eyebrows raise as he speaks and you practically beam at him, nodding. “Good.”

For the majority of the ride to the restaurant, Jeff held your hand, and it was impossible not to think back to the days of quick ice cream dates between school and practices. It felt good to have time though, to know you got to be with him for more than an hour or two. You talked a bit, mostly just small talk, but you both just seem happy to be in the same space together.

The restaurant far exceeded your expectations of just how fancy it would be. Jeff was certainly enjoying it though, having the opportunity to treat you to something so nice. He ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and as soon as the waiter walked away, Jeff looked at you with a bit of a grimace.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I butchered the name of that wine,” he says, shifting in his seat with a wide grin, simply shrugging it off. His words make you laugh, and glancing around, you feel far underdressed and out of place, but being there with him is worth it.

The two of you blow through a few pieces of small talk, sipping at wine and enjoying the fact that you were together. Of course, the food was incredible, and when there was a slight lull in conversation as you were finishing up, you sat up in your seat a little more.

“Wanna know a little bit of a secret?” you ask, biting your lip as you lean forward slightly. You know it’s terrible manners, but you rest your elbows on edge of the table as you look at him.

“Always,” he says, looking intrigued as he reaches for his wine glass. He takes a sip, then mirrors your actions, leaning forward so his elbows are on the table as well.

It’s impossible to stop yourself from grinning widely at him then, and you can only imagine how odd the two of you must look to the other diners. Clearing your throat, you feel your cheeks flush slightly, but you hold his gaze.

“So, you remember that first game Lydia took me to, and I said it was a last minute thing?” you start, clearing your throat as you pause.

“Yeah, I think I might, why?” he responds, and the snarky grin on his face makes you nudge him under the table with your foot teasingly as you roll your eyes. His grin only widens in response to the contact, and he responds by nudging your foot right back.

“It’s not really much of a secret, I guess, but Lydia knew about our history before you even came to Buffalo. I mean, she texted me in the middle of a meeting when you got traded for christ's sake,” you say, laughing rather nervously as you shake your head. “She bugged the hell out of me about trying to reach out to you, but I dunno, I guess I was just scared, so she took matters into her own hands. The day of that game though, she talked me into going to eat downtown, but then sprung it on me that we were actually going to the game.” You pause again, taking a deep breath. “Long story short, I guess, the devil works hard, but Lydia works harder.” Jeff is grinning then as you laugh with a shrug, leaning back in your seat now that you’ve finished speaking.

“Well,” he starts, letting out a deep sigh as he watches you. “Guess I should probably clue you in on my own secret then, since we’re on the topic.” He pauses, pushing a hand through his hair and you look at him expectantly, eyebrow raised in curiosity. “I, uh..I knew that you lived in Buffalo. That was the first thing my mom told me when I said I got traded, that you lived here.” He was blushing like mad, just like you surely had been when you were talking about Lydia’s meddling. You’re about to jump in to ask questions about what he’d just said, but instead he continues on. “Every time I was out, I felt like I was looking for you, hoping we’d bump into each other somehow, but I guess now I owe Lydia a massive favor or dinner or something for making my life a lot easier.”

His words make you snort softly, and you shake your head. “She made both of our lives easier, honestly, but if we ever tell her that, she’ll never let us forget it,” you tell him, grinning as you bring a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. Jeff laughs as he reaches for his wine glass, and you can see a soft flush coloring his cheeks.

“My lips are sealed then,” he says, nodding as he nudges your foot under the table again lightly.

When dinner is over a while later, Jeff’s arm settles around your shoulders at the valet booth as you wait for his car to be brought up. You lean into his side easily, enjoying the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne as he kisses your temple before letting his nose nudge at your hair lightly. When you have to pull away a moment later, you glance up at him and lean back into him enough to press a short kiss to his mouth.

On the road a few minutes later, Jeff glances at you before reaching for your hand. “Does the offer still stand to hang out at your place for a while?” he asks, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly as you lace your fingers with his.

You turn your attention to him, raising your eyebrows slightly. “What, you’re not gonna make me say please?” you tease with a wide grin, squeezing his hand.

“Nah,” he says, looking at you again as he comes to a stop at a red light. There’s an almost shy smile on his face, and he shrugs a second later to make you exhale a breath of laughter.

“Don’t worry, the offer still stands,” you tell him, feeling giddiness creeping into you then as Jeff nods.

“I was never gonna make you say please, y’know,” he tells you, his eyes moving back to the road when the light turns green.

“I know,” you respond, enjoying the fact that he’s still grinning even as he’s watching the road.

The last few minutes of the drive are quiet, and you’re impressed to see that he remembered the better route back to your place. He doesn’t let go of your hand until he’s pulling into your driveway and reaching to turn off the car. Turning toward you, his shy smile is back and you’re pressing your lips together as you unfasten your seatbelt.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you tell him, reaching for the door handle. He nods eagerly, clearing his throat as he steps out of the car. You’re expecting him to approach you, but instead he opens the back door to grab a bag from the floor.

He catches the rather surprised look on your face and shrugs with a rather self-conscious smile. “What, did you expect me to lounge around in a suit all night?” he asks, reaching for you hand once he’s close enough.

You exhale a soft laugh, shrugging back at him then. “I dunno, I really didn’t really think about it, I guess,” you respond, giggling as you tug him toward the front porch. You’re fishing for your keys then, letting go of his hand once you’re close enough to unlock the door. As you fit the key into the lock, your hands are shaking from the feeling of having Jeff’s eyes on you, and you let out a soft breath of relief when you get the door open.

Jeff closes the door behind him once he’s followed you in, and he slips past you as you nudge your heels off easily. They certainly weren’t the most comfortable shoes, and you were glad to be out of them now. When you turn to Jeff, he’s still watching you, looking like he’s waiting for instructions on what to do next.

“I, uh..I’m gonna go get changed in my room. There’s a bathroom off the kitchen if you didn’t want to just disrobe in the living room,” you tease, taking a step toward him as you grin. He smiles back at you, nodding as he motions for you to come closer to him. It’s impossible to say no to that smile, so you step toward him, which only makes his smile widen.

“Hi,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him.

“Hi,” you repeat back, biting your lip in an effort to hide the eager groan that slid onto your face so easily as you looked at him. His hand is resting flat in the small of your back, and you’re suddenly feeling very aware of everything that’s happening as your heart races in your chest.

When his other hand comes up to cup your jaw, holding your face gently, your eyes drift closed as you relax into his touch. Everything’s still and quiet for a brief moment, then he’s kissing you, so soft and gentle that it makes your knees shake. Your hand comes up to grip the material of his suit jacket, half to pull him closer and half in fear that your knees would give out if you didn’t have something to hold onto.

It would be so easy to just give into the desperation that’s vibrating through every inch of you, but instead, you pull back before the kiss gets any firmer. Instinctively, you lick your lips nervously, and when you meet Jeff’s eye, there’s a darkness there that makes your core start to ache. Letting out a soft breath of laughter, just trying to break the sexual tension, you look away from him as you feel your cheeks burn.

“I’m really dying to get out of this push up bra,” you say, just blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. You need to put some distance between the two of you, otherwise you’re going to end up giving in to just how badly you need him.

Jeff blinks at you before cracking a grin, and he nods before untangling himself from you easily, motioning for you to take the lead out of the foyer with a laugh. You point him in the direction of the bathroom, then move as quickly as you can to your own room.

More than anything, you wish you had the time to take a cold shower before joining him in the living room, but you don’t. Instead, you take a few deep breaths after closing the door behind you, trying to at least bring your heart rate down. Eventually, you change out of your dress and that awful bra, tugging on a bralette, along with a pair of leggings and long sleeved shirt from college.

Tugging at the hems of your sleeves nervously, you return to the living room where you find Jeff stretched out on your sofa, clearly making himself at home. The remote is in his hand and from the looks of it, he’s trying to figure out how to turn the TV on. He’s in a Sabres shirt and grey sweatpants, of course, as if you weren’t already having trouble keeping his dick off your mind.

“You look cozy,” you say, grinning as you sit down in the opposite corner of the couch, already curling your feet under you. You’re trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible right now, and from the way he looks at you, you’re sure that he’s onto you.

“Yeah, it feels nice to be out of the suit, that’s for sure,” he says, grinning at you as he looks up from the remote. “And I bet you’re happy to be out of that push up bra.” His tone changes a bit and it gets a laugh out of you as you nod.

“Trust me, I am,” you tell him, hand coming up to push your hair out of your face as you pull a blanket into your lap. “You wanna keep trying to figure out how to work the remote, or do you want me to take over?” Your words come with a soft laugh as you grin at him widely, only to be greeted with an exaggerated eye roll out of him. He tosses you the remote a second later with a sigh of defeat and it’s taking everything you have not to laugh at him teasingly.

Silence settles over the two of you for a short moment as you turn on the TV and open Netflix, your eyes stuck on the TV before you glance at him. You find that he’s looking at you already, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you clear your throat. You’re about to open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

“Why are you all the way over there?” he asks, sounding like he’s doing his best not to sound too needy.

“I dunno,” you respond with a quick laugh, pushing your hair out of your eyes again nervously as you force yourself to stare at the TV. “Just trying to behave, I guess.” Your own honesty surprises you and you let out a quiet snort of laughter that he echos a moment later.

“Come over here,” he murmurs, already sitting up slightly as he reaches to tug at your hand. It’s impossible not to give into him, and you both shift easily. He stretches out along the length of the couch and pulls you into his lap easily so you’re leaning into his chest.

It’s a lot closer than you’d anticipated, and you can smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his muscular frame through his clothes. You look up at him and he’s all grins as his arm settles around your waist comfortably. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel it, and it takes a moment before you relax into him easily.

“That’s better,” he says softly, bringing a hand up to run over your hair before rubbing your back gently. Snuggling into him is so easy, and you can’t help but press your face into his chest for a moment and just nuzzle there.

“What do you want to watch?” you ask a moment later as your head rests against his chest, just wanting to have something else to focus on as you search for the remote again. He makes a sound of indifference and you scoff quietly, grinning to yourself as you scroll through the recently added movies idly.

From the way you’re laying, you can hear his heart beating in his chest, and you can feel the way his muscles move as he continues to rub a hand over your back idly. Eventually, he gives some input on what to watch, and after you press play, you lean to put the remote on the coffee table for safe keeping. When you move back to him, there’s some distance between your bodies as you lean over him, and he’s looking up at you as his hand slides over your waist easily.

You’re both silent for a moment, just looking at each other from this new angle, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes drop to his mouth. He mirrors your action, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth before he’s leaning up enough to kiss you. It’s slow at first, and given the fact that you’re still hovering over him, it’s nice to still feel in control.

His hand settles in the small of your back again, this time holding the fabric of your shirt lightly in an effort to keep you close. The kiss is easy, light, but when he sighs quietly against your mouth, you let your body rest into his a bit more. You’re taking your time, knowing that you’ve got all the time in the world right now. Everything still feels so new, like you’re getting used to each other again despite the fact that you’d grown up together.

You’re starting to get stuck in your head about everything, you can feel it, but your mind goes blank when Jeff’s tongue drags along your bottom lip. The motion somehow takes you by surprise, and you groan into his mouth as his free hand comes up to hold rest on your jaw like he’s worried you’re going to pull away. Tired of holding back, you shift so you’re straddling him and he moves along with you, hands immediately gripping your hips.

The kiss deepens and his tongue slips into your mouth, making your clit throb between your thighs. You’re suddenly very aware of just how wet you were already, and it’s a struggle to keep yourself from rocking down against him. When your body tenses with the effort of staying still, his hand on your jaw moves to thread his fingers through your hair as he pushes it back out of your face.

He breathes your name, making you shiver, and a second later, he’s pulling back to look at you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are searching your face as you blink down at him.

“What is it?” you ask softly, licking your lips quickly.

“Nothin’, just wanted to look at you, I guess” he murmurs, a slow grin sliding onto his face as you roll your eyes at him.

Immediately, you’re leaning into him again, kissing him hard enough that he groans into your mouth. His fingers tighten in your hair, his nails just barely grazing over your scalp, and the hand in the small of your back moves higher, rubbing over the fabric of your shirt easily. Just when you feel like you can’t breathe, Jeff pulls away to kiss along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he moves down your neck.

You’re panting by then, biting your bottom lip as he sucks at your pulse point. Whimpering his name, your hand slides into his curls, and you give into your desperation for friction, your hips grinding down into his. The sound that leaves him does nothing to help the soothe the throbbing between your thighs, and you’re already turning your head to seal your mouth over his again.

Somehow, this kiss is even more heated, and both of Jeff’s hands move to your hips. He squeezes you there, letting his fingers just barely slip under the hem of your shirt as he pulls your hips down to meet his again. It’s your turn to whine, realizing then that his cock is half hard, and when he bites at on your bottom lip, you grind down against him again eagerly.

Jeff exhales a curse against your mouth, hands still tight on your hips, but this time, he’s pushing you back slightly. “Fuck, we need to stop,” he murmurs as he pulls back, chuckling a second later. You nod in response, grinning as you feel your cheeks flush. The face that his mouth is a little swollen is quite distracting, and you’re having trouble tearing your eyes away from his lips.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you respond, despite leaning to press another soft kiss to his mouth. “We missed the beginning of the movie.” Your words are followed by a soft giggle that makes Jeff grin as he shrugs.

You shift so you’re not straddling him anymore, moving back to sit at the opposite edge of the couch, just until you’ve both cooled down. Jeff keeps stealing glances at you, and fifteen minutes later, he’s sitting up enough to reach for you, pulling you back toward him to rest against his chest. Committing yourself to behaving, you nuzzle into his collarbone briefly as you settle into him.

Your eyes are on the TV, but you’re hardly paying attention to the movie. With your head on his chest again, the sound of his heartbeat is relaxing enough that you’re having trouble even staying awake. It’s barely even 9pm, but you’re so cozy and Jeff is so warm. He’s rubbing your back idly and toying with the ends of your hair, even kissing the top of your head a couple times.

The sound of Jeff’s voice is what wakes you up, and as you come to, you feel him rubbing your back still as he says your name. When you stir, you grumble under your breath, turning your head to bury your face in his chest. The motion makes Jeff chuckle quietly as he pushes your hair back from your face. It seems a lot darker in the room now, and when you open your eyes and look at the TV, you see that the credits are rolling.

“It’s time to get up, baby,” he tells you softly, nosing at your hair lightly. You stifle a yawn into his chest as you nod, exhaling a heavy sigh a minute later as you sit up.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, trying to smooth down your hair and hoping that you don’t look too terrible. Jeff only grins, sitting up to lean toward you before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“I don’t mind, trust me,” he assures you. “I almost fell asleep too, if that makes you feel any better.” His words make you smile and you turn your head to look at him, immediately leaning a bit closer so you can kiss him softly.

It’s not hard to tell that he’s holding back, not letting the kiss get too deep. You hate that you know you’ve got to say goodbye soon, and as your mouth easily against his, you take his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Can you stay here tonight?” you ask quietly when he pulls back. You’re still leaning into his side, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“I wish I could,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead softly. “I’ve got an early practice tomorrow, and we’re heading to Chicago straight from there, and I haven’t even packed yet.” His words come with a soft laugh, and it’s impossible not to grin at him. The sleepy part of your brain wants you to beg him to stay over, selfishly wanting to just stay curled up with him all night.

“Shocking,” you tease, making him scoff before he kisses you again.

This time, the kiss is a little firmer, and his arm slips around your waist to pull your body closer to his. Your hand settles on the back of his neck as your mouth curves into a smile as you lean toward him. When you lick into his mouth, he makes a high sound that leaves you squeezing your thighs together. He pulls back a second later with flushed cheeks, and his eyes move over your face quickly.

“Yeah, I gotta go,” he says quickly, and the two of you laugh in unison as you nod. You both know that if he stay any longer, it’s just going to be harder for him to leave, and you’re the first to get to your feet.

Clearing your throat, you offer him a hand as you nod toward the door. He grins widely, taking your hand and pulling himself to his feet before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Jeff lingers with you in the foyer for a bit longer, stealing a few more kisses as you hold onto him. Your arms around around him as you lean into him, all but desperate to keep him from leaving as if he’ll be gone for longer than a couple days. When you finally let him go, he kisses you a few more times and promises to call you tomorrow before the game. The door closes behind him a moment later and you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face as you realize just how in love with him you are.

pour one out for the last safe for work chapter y’all 🥳🥳🥳 i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I’m so sorry it took so long for me to get this written, but I’m trying to make it up to you by finishing part five within the next ten days, so we’ll see how that goes, i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ as always, comments and messages are always appreciated!!! i’ve been trying to figure out a way to do some sort of comment board of sorts bc I know a lot of people don’t reblog fic so idk. if y’all have any ideas, I’d love to hear them!

#bybtm #jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner #jskinner #buffalo sabres imagine #mine

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wheatbeats · 4 years

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I ended up rewatching all of RWBY Volume 3 tonight (sort of by accident honestly) and, as someone who hasn’t rewatched any earlier volumes since Volume 3 finished, here are some assorted thoughts:

I remember a lot of us feeling cautious about the team switching over to Maya for Volume 4 and beyond, but looking back at Volume 3, probably the best that Poser could do, I think it was the right call. The character models, the expressive animation, the BACKGROUNDS, are all so much better now than they used to be. The look of Poser has its charm but I think overall we’re far better off with Maya.

Putting aside the inherent issues of making the only committed revolutionary fighter in the series an abusive murderous ex, the major thorn of Adam’s characterization remains his first interaction with Cinder in episode 7. The rest is decently well laid; from Blake telling the team about how someone close to her changed, to Adam’s reaction to Blake leaving during the events of the Black Trailer (also in episode 7). It’s not pretty or polished but it fits well enough, except for that one scene. It kind of shoots his whole arc in the foot. Also Adam’s voice actor has done a much better job with his nasty, creepy dialogue than he ever has with his noble freedom fighter dialogue and I think that deserves recognition.

Speaking of which as a whole episode 7 is really good the structure and pacing feels really unique for a RWBY episode. I don’t think they made another quite like it until The Lost Fable in S6.

This whole season is really good at moving its camera, and I’m tempted to lay that credit with Monty Oum. There are lots of interesting shots of characters’ legs (that sounds weird but both Cinder and Ironwood have great shots of a room framed between their feet from behind), and I still love how when Qrow is first introduced at the Crow Bar the camera wobbles drunkenly with him when he stands up. It adds a level of engagement that the animation quality might have otherwise robbed.

Speaking of Qrow, this volume is his introduction and it struck me how, even though he’s always been a bit of an immature bastard, in V3 he still very much feels like an adult, and Team RWBY very much feel like children. I’m used to V6 Qrow, who whines like a baby and is generally useless. The dynamic has shifted so much and I think that’s genuinely intentional so good job, CRWBY.

This is a bit of a nitpick but why is Ironwood the one to tell Yang that she’s disqualified after she blasts Mercury’s knee? That’d be like if I cheated at a high school track meet and Obama shows up to kick me out; Ironwood is a head of state from a different country and the headmaster of NEITHER of the schools involved in the fight. Why is he here?

It’s sort of odd watching this season lay groundwork for worldbuilding that’s already been retconned away. Ozpin’s gang leading Pyrrha through the vault for the first time really make it seem like the Maidens are the be-all end-all of magical power in the land, and that their little troupe was made solely to protect them. Now Maidens are just a small cog in the machine, shoved to the back burner in recent episodes in favor of the relics. I know that RWBY’s worldbuilding has almost always been “go off of what we told you last and forget everything before that”, but it feels oddly disconnected to see the ghost of the original plan peeking through in the earlier volumes.

Also it’s really odd seeing Ozpin on screen I kind of forgot that he used to have a body that isn’t Oscar.

There’s a bit of heartache seeing Pyrrha again, once my favorite character. Her journey in this season might still be the best season-long arc RWBY ever told, and while I still yearn for the reality where she lives and we get to see the fallout of everything she went through, her sacrifice in the finale is still one of the most genuine emotional moments in this entire series and I’ll always applaud that.

In connection to Pyrrha’s arc, this season has the Perfect amount of Jaune used in the best possible way, and I wish he could always be like this. Jaune in V3 is kinda funny, pretty brave, and very sweet and heartfelt. He and Pyrrha talking alone in episode 8 is still one of my favorite moments of the whole show. Jaune is at his best when he’s a loving and supportive friend, not a hero or a leading man, and I hope the series is finally starting to understand that.

As a whole the entire Battle of Beacon is really fucking impressive. For one thing, it’s LONG, about 45 minutes of one big conflict, and it balances the bits and pieces between Ruby vs. Torchwick, Ozpin and Pyrrha vs. Cinder, and Blake vs. Adam really well. The editing is top notch and the score is incredible, and there are some amazing moments of choreography (Ruby vs. Neo and Torchwick is still one of my favorite fights in the series). The whole thing manages to stay pretty breathless and exciting all the way through and I hope that RoosterTeeth can craft another finale this thrilling for Volume 7 and/or something later.

The end of Heroes and Monsters is harrowing, to put it simply. Seeing Pyrrha screaming in pain in the aura transfer machine, Amber being shot suddenly without warning, Blake getting stabbed, and Yang losing an arm all in quick succession is a huge fucking gut punch, made all the harsher by the music choice (that... music box style music they put on haunts my dreams, damn you Alex Abraham and Jeff Williams).

It’s sort of refreshing to see Ruby Rose herself in such a central role this season. They got better at putting her in focus in V6 but she’s still sharing the spotlight with a solid 10-12 other major characters. In V3 Ruby spends a lot of time alone, doing important things for the plot. I kind of miss that.

Also, Ruby collapsing into tears and then numb shock when she sees Penny die? Excellent content, it breaks my heart, I wish we could see important emotional moments and reactions like that from Ruby all the time.

Torchwick is fucking incredible and I’m so salty he’s gone. He still has maybe the best vocal performance in the entire series and his monologue right before his death is my pick for the best ever string of dialogue from a series that’s historically had problems writing it. I really hope they pull a Hannibal Choi from Pacific Rim and bring him back later, if only to see how hilariously outclassed he is by the newer, bad-er villains. Normally that sort of thing would bug me from a narrative perspective but I love Torchwick so much that I’m literally begging for him to return. Please RT hear my prayer.

When it Falls is the best OP song and Divide is the best ED song of the series and you absolutely CAN fight me on this maybe I can finally put my music degree to use

#rwby #rwby3 #I put this under a readmore because it became... uh.... huge

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adoreyou303 · 4 years

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Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

(CW: Mention of sexual assault and panic attacks)

Chapter Two

As time passes, Harry’s world feels as though it’s standing still. He isn’t sure how long he has been in the uncomfortable chair before the shrill ringing of his phone rips him from his thoughts.

“Hello?” he rasps.

“Harry? Where the hell are you? What is going on?” Harry’s manager, Jeff, screeches through the phone.

“It’s Melanie. She’s been attacked. ’m with her at the hospital.”

“Jesus. What the fuck happened? The news is showing pictures of you getting in an ambulance. Are you hurt too?” Jeff questions worriedly.

“No, ‘m fine. We found her being attacked. Scared the guy off. Jeff, he hurt her. Bad.”

“The whole place is reeling with cameras. There’s no way he got in or out without being recorded.” The line goes quiet for a few seconds before Jeff sighs. “Do you want some company?”

“That’d be nice,” Harry mumbles, running his fingers through his hair, the styling long forgotten.

“Right, I’m on my way. I know this isn’t a good time, but we have to release a message to your fans about the concert. Do you have any ideas?”

“Something about a personal emergency. I will release a statement when you get here. Just make it short and sweet, but vague. I’ll do damage control when I know she’s okay.”

“She’s going to be alright, mate.”

Harry and Jeff wait for an agonizing 30 minutes before Dr. Rameriz knocks on the door to the private room. The singer stands nervously, waiting to hear any news on his best friend.

“She’s awake and asking for you,” the doctor smiles. “We’re only allowing one person at a time, so let’s just start with Harry.”

His heart almost beats out his chest upon hearing the news of her asking for him. If it were up to him, he would run down the hallway and be by her side in an instant. Something in the air of how Dr. Rameriz looks at him tells him there’s something more he needs to know.

As they walk toward Melanie’s room, Dr. Rameriz places a gentle hand on Harry’s arm.

“Based on the injuries we were able to assess, we believe she was raped. We haven’t told her the full extent of her situation yet. She wasn’t in the mindset for any of us to tell her. In order for us to run all of our tests and submit a report to the police, we need her consent.”

“I can’t believe this… Are you asking… Are you saying you want me to tell her? This should be her decision.”

“I know this is a lot to take in. Of course it’s up to her to choose what she wants to do. She has every right to decline. We would just like your help to break the news to her. She seems to trust you. Sometimes it’s easier for patients to hear this kind of news from a loved one or with a loved one around. It can help aid them in making decisions or just having emotional support.”

“Okay, what can I do?” he asks eagerly.

Walking into her room, Harry felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Even in the hospital with tubes and bruises, she looked like the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He attempts to walk on his toes to be as quiet as possible, but the shuffling causes her to stir.

“Harry,” she croaks, her eyes lighting up when she spots the figure by the door.

“Hello, love. How are you feeling?” he asks, crossing the room in nearly two strides. He reaches down to grab her hand, but immediately recoils, fearing he will hurt her further.

“It’s okay, you can hold my hand,” she smiles gently, wiggling her fingers slightly. Harry intertwines their fingers, bringing her hand up to his lips to leave a tender kiss near her thumb.

“How are you feeling?” he urges, tilting his head slightly to indicate she has his full attention.

“Sore. They gave me some stitches and I have bruises everywhere, but I’m okay. It could have been worse,” she sighs. He nods sadly, looking down at her body that is covered by the white sheet.

“Do you remember anything about what happened?” he asks softly, placing his other hand over their intertwined ones. Her eyes widen and for a second, he can almost see a scene flash through her mind, but as quick as she stumbled, she recovers as she shakes her head no.

“I just remember something over my mouth and waking up not able to move,” she whispers. He can feel her hands shake beneath his, slightly wet from the nerves of recounting her recent attack.

“When I found you, your attacker was on top of you,” Harry starts, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her palm.

“I remember falling out of a room or something. We were against a door…” she recalls, her eyes searching around the room aimlessly.

“Right. He was on top of you… with his pants off,” he finishes, the last part quieter than a whisper. Her heart feels like it stopped. Her body freezes as she frantically tries to piece together any memories she can.

“What?” she whispers, her eyes watering.

“’m so sorry,” he says, lowering his head in a mix of guilt and sadness.

Before Harry could even process any thoughts, he hears the sounds of rapid breathing and painful sobs emanating from the person he cared about most. If he thought the sight of her in a hospital bed was bad, the sight of her completely breaking down shattered his heart to pieces. A rush of alarms and bells sound, signaling she’s in some sort of distress.

“Can I touch you? ’m going to help,” Harry asks quickly, but calmly, dropping their hands to bring himself face to face with her. She looks at him hesitantly, but nods in agreement despite her panicked state. Harry climbs into the bed behind her, noticing how she flinches at his touch. He reminds her of his intentions by repeating his name and what he’s doing in a slow and soothing voice despite the mess of nerves building in the pit of his stomach. Nurses race into the room and take in this odd sight.

“She’s panicking,” Harry relays. “‘S okay, love. It’s Harry. I know you’re in there. Can you feel me breathing?” She nods against his shoulder, a feeling of embarrassment and anxiety swelling in her throat.

“Good. Try to match your breathing with mine. Start small. In and out,” he instructs, exaggerating his breathing to help guide her. Her painful gasps of air start to even out as Harry continues to give her praise and encouragement. He peppers her hairline with kisses, admiring her inward and outwardly for her courage to fight.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Just keep breathing, nice and slow. ’m right here with you,” he says gently.

“Please don’t go,” she chokes out, her fingers grasping at his expensive shirt.

“‘m not going anywhere, love. ’m staying right here with you.”

Her uneven breathing settles into strangled cries mixed with an occasional sob. A kind nurse with a warm smile asks if she would like some medication.

“No, no medication,” she cries, turning her head into Harry’s chest.

“It’ll help you sleep,” she encourages, placing a hand on the bed’s safety rail.

“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to close my eyes,” she admits, a fresh wave of tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll stay right here while you sleep,” Harry tells her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She contemplates it for a few seconds, almost falling asleep with Harry gently running his fingers through her hair. Suddenly, her eyes snap open as she frantically tries to push herself out of Harry’s arms.

“Wha’? Wha’ is it, love?” he asks worriedly. “Are you hurting?” The nurse frantically presses the red assistance button and snaps on a pair of gloves.

“The concert! We have to… YOU! You have to go! Your fans, they’ll be so disappointed if you don’t show up,” she rattles off. Harry takes her face between his hands in an effort to talk to her quietly and calmly, eyeing nurse readying the injection behind her. The nurse places the medication in her IV. Slowly, her muscles relax and her eyes begin to close.

“Rest now, love. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Harry whispers, running his fingers lightly across her forehead.

“Your injuries are healing nicely. If you notice any oozing or new bruising, come back immediately. This paperwork has all the information we talked about earlier, all the medications, and numbers to reach me at if you need anything at all, okay? Take it easy. It’s been a pleasure taking care of you, but I don’t want to see you back here,” Dr. Rameriz smiles, handing Melanie a thick stack of discharge papers. She nods appreciatively and thumbs through the papers mindlessly. Harry watches her with careful eyes, not wanting to push her before she’s ready.

“I can feel you watching me,” she speaks up, her eyes not leaving the papers in her hand.

“Sorry, love. Are you ready to go? We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

She looks up with timid eyes, an uneasy feeling suddenly saturating the room. Sensing the shift in the air, Harry pushes out of the chair he had been perched in since the early hours of the morning and makes his way toward her. He makes all his movements visible to her, and she watches him with fear filled curiosity. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he nervously rubs his palms on the fabric of his pants.

“W-what if I’m never ready?” she stutters, feeling small and helpless.

“Oh, love. I wish I could take this away from you… all of this. I can’t go back and change what happened and I’m so sorry, but I can be there for you, with you, through the rest of this. You’re not alone, Melanie.”

With trembling hands, she reaches out to grip the hand resting on his thigh. He responds by lacing his fingers through her hers. “Take your time. We will go at your pace.” Slowly, she leans her head on his shoulder. They sit on the hospital bed for an unknown length of time, with his head atop of hers, and for just a moment, it’s just the two of them: two small people in this big world.

#sweet creature #chapter 2 #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writings #harry styles fandom #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles #hs fandom #hs fic #harry styles series

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