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narraboths · 7 months

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“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.)

#supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 4 months

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On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

#David tennant #doctor who #the tenth doctor #the fourteenth doctor #good omens #crowley #shakespeare #around the world in 80 days #phileas fogg #pro aging #growing old

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goldengalore · 22 days

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Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #anxious!reader #my writing

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flufftober · 4 months

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🌸🍀 Hello and welcome to our (first) Flufftober Spring Edition 🌸🍀

SURPRISE 😁

Yes, we've decided that one month of the year simply isn't enough anymore! So we would like to fill two weeks in March with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, we present you with 14 prompts, some of them neutral, some very much sping-themed.

How does this work?

Pretty much like our regular Flufftober event in October, so you'll find all the common rules and info below the cut. Contrary to the big event though, this one here only runs for two weeks instead of the entire month, and we set the date from March 11th to March 24th! So prompt one is NOT supposed to be posted on March 1st but instead on March 11th! Prompt two is for March 12th, prompt 3 for March 13th, and so on...

Since this is a smaller prompt list, you also won't find any prompt extras to switch these out with, sorry. Maaaybe if this event is a success, we'll think about changing that in upcoming years 😉

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us asks 🥰

Friends, we so hope you love this surprise and that the prompts may inspire a lot of fluffy creations! We wish you a great start to the new year and as always

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're new to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, (grand)parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

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Prompts

1. New Beginnings

2. Banter, Joking, Fun

3. Spring Cleaning

4. “Let me take care of you.”

5. Honey & Bees

6. Sharing a Blanket

7. Giving someone a Present

8. Breakfast in Bed

9. Daisies

10. Iced Beverage

11. Enjoying the Fresh Air

12. Claiming, Clingy, Possessive

13. “It’s still too cold.” - “No, it’s not.”

14. Putting down Roots

390 notes · View notes

goldustwomun · 1 month

Text

pacifier (s.b.)

pairing: sirius black x younger potter! reader

summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. plus, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, cocky sirius and like kind of an annoying younger sister reader (but also that's literally me lol), bad transitions between light hearted banter and angst but i'm trying my best RIP, i imagine sirius to be mid-20s and reader only 3/4 years younger (but everyone is OF AGE), mommy issues if you squint

wc: 5.4k+

note: soooo i'm back :D again :D i'm almost done with second year and actually somewhat ahead with all my papers (with very minimal finals; def recommend being a history major x) and i've just been missing the community so enjoy this! i had this first chapter posted a while back (like maybe a year) but it was actually ass so i've redone it a little :)))) as always, reblogs and comments are MUCH appreciated and i can't wait to interact w/ y'all over this because i have been DAYDREAMING about brother's bf sirius :')

“What do you mean he’s working at the shop as well?!” you screeched, chasing your Mother around the kitchen, feeling a lot like the pesky youngest child you were.

“He needs some help so we offered to give him a job. Honestly sweetheart, aren’t you too old for this childish feud?”

“Too old? Shouldn’t you be saying that to him? He’s like– thirty or something, and still continues to be the bane of my existence. Fucking Bla–”

Your Mother whirled on you abruptly, brandishing the wooden spoon she was about to stir the boiling pot with right in your face. “Language, missy! I would tell him the same thing, but unluckily for you, you’re my daughter and currently living under my roof, so you get to hear it first.” She gave you a saccharine sweet smile, the kind that had you biting back the urge to stomp your feet and pout at her until she gave in. Unfortunately for you, that hadn’t worked since you were about six years old.

“--now, he’s been gone for such a long time, and we’re all very excited to see him, so don’t ruin this reunion with any more of your tantrums.”

You opened your mouth, intent on not letting the argument die there, but your Father bounded into the kitchen at the same moment, ruffling up your hair with a “Hey there, kiddo,” before promptly moving on to snake his hands around your Mother’s waist. “Looking as beautiful as always, my dear,” he cooed into her ear. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle that had you bolting from the kitchen before you were scarred any further.

Your parents’ tooth-aching affections for each other were just that: sweet, but sickly all the same. Deep down, you knew you yearned for a romance like theirs, something genuine but passionate, able to withstand the test of time (and your ever-dwindling patience). James, your older brother, had found it with Lily, their son Harry being a product of their young but no less intense love.

And you loved that kid like he was your own. Would beg James to let you come over, play with the babbling toddler for a few hours, would even offer up your weekends, encouraging the young couple to “go out, live a little!”. But they were about as infatuated with their own child as you were, and had a never-ending supply of friends who were equally as eager to help out.

Speaking of, one of those eager friends was currently pounding his stupid fist against your stupid front door, and you were already riled up from the news that you couldn’t take seeing his face physically in front of you, as well.

You shoved past James, knocking him back a step as his hand reached for the door to let his best mate in. You caught a glimpse of him on the doorstep, the first in almost two years– hair unruly like he’d just rolled out of bed, long, black strands; newly tanned skin blushing under the heat of the sun; those thick, brooding eyebrows that raised up in your direction – eughh.

“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” James called at your retreating figure, shouting loud enough to be heard over your heavy footsteps despite the carpeted floor.

“Ask your best mate over there!” you answered back with a bite, slamming your room door shut.

“Fuck,” he sighed, defeated, yanking his confused friend in and a chucking a thumb towards the stairs. “How’ve you managed to piss her off before you even got here?” he asked incredulously. “Peace– we had peace in this house for the past two years since you’ve been off travelling, and now look–! It’s a bloody riot!”

“Oi– I’ve done nothing,” he moaned indignantly, hanging his coat and scarf on the gold-crested hooks by the door. “--I think,” he added for good measure after a beat.

He never understood why the two of you struggled to get along. You’d grown up together, spent every waking moment in each other’s presence when he was at the Potter residence (which happened to be just about always given his own family situation). In theory, he should be like some sort of older brother figure– someone to loan out advice and shoulders to cry on and all that jazz.

But no. Something about you and your irritatingly know-it-all personality, or shrill voice when indignant (which was rather often around him), or your need to always be right – something about you made it so he just had to tease you endlessly until you were yelling, voice all pitchy, nostrils flared, breath heavy and face blotchy. When things would begin to die down, he’d find something else to point out, argue back, hit the nail on your specific head– something to really push you that little bit over the edge.

It was a little too fun to not try to get a rise out of you every time you were together. And as much as Sirius was aware that the jabs each of you threw had gotten a little more out of hand and a little less appropriate for your relationship– he just couldn’t stop.

The rest of the Potter family didn’t share your sentiments about Sirius, and rather adored him immeasurably. Had since he’d taken to hiding out in their house after a particularly brutal fight at home when he was only eleven. Heck, he’d even attended every Potter-family gathering, dinner, birthday, you name it, since then. It was why he came over every Sunday for a roast, pudding and some chat – he could never put into words what your family had done for him, the safety, security, home, even, they'd given him when he’d been lost and entirely clueless of what a real family looked like.

So he made the thirty-minute drive, every Sunday, much to your irritation. He plastered on the biggest smile for your Mum, complimenting every minute detail of the meal she cooked for the family, drank a glass of whiskey and smoked a cigar with your Dad; he was even Harry’s favourite, always humming quiet melodies into the youngest Potter’s ear.

With him travelling the world for the past almost-two-years, he’d missed out on the family time he usually looked forward to every weekend. Mondays seemed a lot less dreadful after having a belly-full of Mrs Potter’s food. Still, he’d sent postcards and printed pictures of everywhere he went, the sights he’d seen, people he’d met. It wasn’t the same, not without the lot of you to pester him (maybe you especially) but he’d needed some time to find himself.

He still wasn’t sure if he’d found what he was looking for, but the money had to have run out eventually so he was back home, ready to work and settle down in his life for once after graduating Hogwarts.

Sirius followed James into the living room where he found Lily, sipping on a glass of red, sitting by the empty fireplace. Instead, a window had been cracked in to let the temperate wind in.

She perked up as they entered, waving with that soul-wrenching smile of hers that could persuade even the most strong-willed of men into submission.

“Pads, you’re back!” she called from her seat. "And you've grown a moustache-- interesting choice of facial hair." Sirius, however, raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, ignoring her greeting-slash-judgement as he peered into the empty crib by her side, even going as far as to search under it as if the toddler might have escaped.

“Harry’s gone to bed in the guest room. There was a bit of a shouting match before you arrived,” James explained, sinking into the space beside his wife and pulling her into his side. “Actually, now that I think about it, there was a lot of shouting after you arrived as well!”

Lily snorted, snuggling into her husband without hesitation, and Sirius couldn’t help but avert his eyes, feeling entirely like he was imposing on an intimate moment as the two of them whispered in the other’s ear.

“Well, don’t mind me. Sitting here, all by my lonesome, no company or polite chatter to partake in, not even my dashing god son to entertain me” he sighed, dramatically, to no one in particular. James rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics, chucking a frilly throw-pillow at his face (that’s what they’re for, right?) which he just as easily caught.

“Har-Har! Ever the clown, Paddy,” James mocked, flipping him off just in time for his Mum to walk in and see.

“James! Don’t aim such crude displays at my son,” she scolded, wrapping her wrinkled arms around Sirius’ shoulders from behind his chair. She leaned down, kissing the top of his head affectionately. Sirius only whimpered in agreement, leaning into her motherly touch and whining on and on about how James was being a right bully.

“My sweet child, I’ve missed you!” She beamed down at him, and that longing Sirius sometimes felt for his own Mother’s approval, her devotion or fondness, it lessened.

“But you didn’t– He was just!-- You missed– arghh!” James groaned defeatedly, head flailed back to rest against the sofa, receiving no sympathies from his giggling wife and glaring Mother. “I’m starting to understand why she hates you.”

Sirius’ eyes flashed at that– did you really hate him? Had it gotten to that point?

At the mention of your name but current absence, Mrs Potter ordered, “Go call your sister for dinner, I’ve set the table.”

He began to protest, failing to come up with a half-decent reason why he can’t walk up the two flights of stairs and pull your petulant frame from your bed– but Sirius interrupted in time, before James could make any more of a fool himself in front of his own Mother. “I’ll go get her. Got to figure out what I did this time,” he offered coolly.

Euphemia, that is, Mrs Potter, had a strict no-apparting rule in her house, had lost too many expensive vases from James and Sirius’ apparition-sprees the second they’d turned seventeen. You already had your licence, having been of legal age for some time, and had, since graduating (top of the class, as you tended to point out, much to your Ravenclaw friends’ dismay) from Hogwarts, found a job at a school in the muggle world, teaching children English Literature in preparation of some exam. O Levels, you’d called them.

Sirius thought it to be some sort of torture device - these O Levels – but you’d smacked him across the head in admonishment with the book in your hand – you were always carrying one, though he designated them to be a weapon, at least when in your possession – before he could say much else. Having a family-run bookshop made it so that the books, or the weapons, really, were in endless supply for you, much to Sirius’ chagrin.

Your love for reading had come from him, your Father, from when he’d stay up till the late hours of the night, hushed whispers under your bed sheet so your Mother wouldn’t hear, as he read you the Classics in animated voices that had you completely enchanted. He made sparks fly from the tip of his wand, bright colours that your little eyes couldn’t quite get enough of.

You loved being a wizard, were eternally grateful for the world you lived in and the undeniable awe of it all. But words, books, literature – they were enough magic for you, took you to places you could only ever dream to visit, and had you feeling such all-consuming emotions that sometimes, you wondered if you’d ever make it to the end of the page, or chapter, or book.

“Oi– your Mum’s put out dinner, she’s calling you downstairs,” he called through the thick wood of your door.

Sirius didn’t know why he was nervous. It was you, the little girl he’d watched grow up and had grown up with. But if the short glance he’d gotten of your stomping person as you huffed up the stairs was any indicated, you were by no means little anymore.

Funny what a few years can do to a person, huh.

He nudged it open when you didn’t respond, only to find you slumped across your bed, glaring, silently, at the ceiling and the pale-orange light emanating from the lamp on your bedside table.

You certainly looked different– older, possibly? He couldn’t quite place what had changed, only that he knew something had. In the way you dressed, styled your hair, held yourself. Even the look of your room– no longer plastered in butterflies and pink roses, but instead painted a burnt umber and with tapestries and muggle band posters hanging across every wall. A stack of vinyls were shoved into one side of your room, along with piles and piles of books, some old and missing a few pages, while others were untouched.

You heard the door click open, sitting up on your elbows to see a smirking Sirius, oozing an annoying amount of confidence, and leaning against your doorframe.

Something in your chest stumbled almost immediately. He looked the same, behaved the same as well. Still the Sirius that had left to see the world, leaving the rest of you behind. Though, he might’ve managed to actually tan, now that you really looked at him, imagining the broad planes of his shoulders, hidden by a thin linen button up, were more sun-kissed than milky-pale now.

Except you refused to even entertain the thought. You were not thinking of him or his skin or his bare chest or--

“What’s with the face?” you asked, already knowing you’ll regret the answer.

“Was that meant to be a greeting?” His eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Hi Sirius-- what’s with the face?” you answered, again, between clenched teeth.

“Nice pair of panties you got on there, bright pink, are they?” he nodded at your thighs, only just clocking that maybe having your legs spread so far apart when you’re wearing a skirt wasn’t the best idea.

Your thighs snapped shut just as Sirius was snickering behind his fist. “So, dinner?” he asked again, stepping into your room and letting the door shut behind him.

“Go to hell.”

“See, that sounds a little inconvenient, and a lot hot– humidity isn’t great for the hair, or skin. Anyway, I’ve just been around the world and found no place called Hell so not sure what to say, little Potter.” You hadn’t missed his sarcastic rambles, even though you were already struggling to hide the smile taking over your face as you looked anywhere but at him. “I tried, I really did, just for you.”

Your stomach dipped at that, a wave pulling you under-- for you.

“Buuuut– you know what I absolutely adore? Your mother’s cooking, and I haven’t had it in a while, so up ya’ get,” he insisted, tugging you up by your forearms until you were pressed against his front, not a sliver of space between the two of you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel him everywhere. Hot skin against your bare arms, the itchy wool of his jumper, if you concentrated a little more, the hard expanse of his chest against yours. He must have felt it too because he released you like you were fire and he a mere mortal, brows pinching in confusion and something else, looking at you like you were a question he couldn’t quite find the answer to.

It was entirely foreign, the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach– it surely hadn’t been there before he’d left. You looked, or gawked, more like, at the very man you detested with every ounce of your being, but also the very man you were about to spend almost every hour of every day, for the rest of the Summer, with.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, as if realising the same thing as you now that you were stood in front of him. Suddenly, he understood what the whole shouting match must have been about, and up until a few moments ago, he might have disagreed with you entirely.

Now, though? He wasn’t sure what he felt.

“Ditto,” you breathed back. You pushed past him after staring for a second too long, hurrying on socked feet to the dining room downstairs, and not bothering to check if he was following.

The quiet jingle of the bell tickled your ears as you opened the door to the bookshop, dust immediately invading your senses as you fought back a harsh cough. Your Dad pushed in front of you, forcing the door to stay open by propping a stack of intimidatingly large books in front of it. You laughed silently to yourself, noting how they were all Dickens (he hated Dickens, said his novels were disturbingly boring and unnecessarily detailed).

You could only agree, never having had the courage to pick up any of those enormous beasts yourself.

“So, you can dust a little, and sweep the floor, before we open. Count the money in the till, as well, that’s very important,” he noted off, and you suddenly wish you had a pen and a pad of paper to write it all down. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been helping out at the shop since when you were younger, but this was the first time you’d been granted the responsibility of having it all to yourself (minus the inconvenience that was Sirius Black).

You were an adult now (barely, but that was a technicality)– loved to point it out any chance you got, and it meant that your Dad trusted you enough to not hover over your shoulder every time you took a shift. He was working fewer hours, though now, none, as he wanted to finish the novel he’d been writing for the past decade after melodramatically announcing at the dinner table that “It’s time!”

You weren’t sure what that exactly meant, but you weren’t about to argue with the man paying you an overly generous ten pounds an hour.

You didn’t need the money for yourself, what with still living at your parent’s house, but you wanted to contribute to the house and expenses and what no, even if it was a minuscule sum.

“Another thing,” he added, stopping, rather abruptly, in front of you, voice worryingly grave as he placed his large palms over either of your shoulders. “Please,” he begged, brows dipping, “don’t fight with Sirius in front of the customers.”

“I haven’t even done anything and you’re already after me,” you objected, pulling back from his usually comforting hold and pulling the broom out from behind the counter. His hands fell defeatedly against his sides as he sighed, standing in your way before you could mope yourself into a tizzy before the work day had even started.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he ensured, pulling you in for a tight embrace. “You know you’re my number one, sweetheart. Just don’t like seeing you so upset.”

James always teased you for being your Father’s favourite, and you’d never argue, relishing in his pointed fingers and sneering words, because it was true– there was something between you and your Father, an understanding that no one else had clued in on. He eased your worries like no one else could, smoothed irked creases across your face, replacing them with belly-hurting laughter lines and a grin so wide, you were worried it would fall off your face.

Anyway, James was the same with your Mum. You found her difficult to communicate with, what with her being as hot-heated as you were, so as much as you and your Dad got along, you butted heads with your Mum just as much. “It’s ‘cause you two are so similar, like twins, I tell you!” But it did little to calm your nerves around her, or stoke the flames of anger you so often felt.

You were about to respond, ready to tell your Dad just how much you loved him, when someone crashed through the door, slamming into the counter you were standing behind. You turned, eyes connecting with your (late) colleague. He looked utterly windswept, as if he’d run – or been chased – the whole way there.

“You okay, son?” your Dad asked, worry shifting from you to the panting, bent-over Sirius.

“Me? Oh– peachy, just– peachy,” he answered between heavy breaths, waving off his doting hands. “Sorry I’m late, got a little carried away with something and lost track of time.”

You were conscious of how your Dad didn’t offer Sirius the same advice, to not pick a fight or argue or whatever it was the two of you did, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he had everyone charmed. So you busied yourself behind the till, doing as you were instructed and counting the money, writing down the number of each of the bills on a notepad you pulled from the drawer at your waist.

Your Dad left soon after, turning the closed sign out front to open as he wished you, and Sirius, good luck.

“Guess it’s just the two of us, little Potter,” Sirius pointed out, already sounding bored as he fell into a stool at your side. He leaned his head against his arm, stretching it from side to side as he groaned at his tense muscles.

You didn’t mean to stare, swore it wasn’t something you’d let become a habit, but your gaze immediately travelled to the exposed skin of his neck, zeroing in on the trail of newly-formed purple bruises down the side. You snorted, shaking your head at him, slamming the money compartment shut a little too aggressively so that it caught Sirius’ attention. He recognised your expression to be something close to amusement, jabbing you in your side until you were scowling and slapping his fingers away.

“What’s wrong with you– you’re acting like a fucking child,” you admonished, moving out of reach and resting a hand on your hip.

“Why’d you make that face?” he asked instead of answering your question, nodding at you like it was you who had started it.

“It’s nothing,” you went with, hearing your Father’s words echoing in your mind from just moments ago. You needed to diffuse the situation before you really got mad, because past that point, you weren’t responsible for what you said– or did.

So you ventured into the aisles of books, a curious Sirius on your heels, following you like a lost, yapping puppy. “If it’s nothing then why are you running away?” he pushed back.

You ignored him pointedly, stopping to stack a few books and dust along the shelves. No one had come in yet, still too early in the morning for any tourists to stumble upon your admittedly quaint but bursting shop.

The sunlight barely filtered past the dense collection of books and mahogany shelves that lined the walls, but the windows stretched to the tall ceilings, and if you went up the spiralling staircase at the centre of the store, you’d find yourself in a cosy loft space, bathed in gold and stuffed with arm chairs and sofas for people to sit and read in.

It was your favourite part of the store, and you were seriously debating hiding up there on your first day, just to get away from the walking-plague that followed you.

“Come on– tell me,” he whined, standing too close for your liking. You side-stepped away, brushing a cloth against the worn covers of the Mystery section. He followed suit, returning to his previous position, and this time, you had no way out with the wall of books you’d met.

You turned, facing him and finally acknowledged his presence. “You lied,” you stated matter-of-factly, loving that you actually had the upper-hand with him. As much as you prided yourself with being quick-witted, Sirius always seemed to find a way to stay on-top.

“Gonna have to give me something more than that, darling. Lied about what?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at you.

It took everything in you to ignore the pet name, something more endearing hidden under it that you had never noticed before, and those pesky butterflies returned to bug about in your gut.

Fucking moths, you groaned internally.

“You said you were busy and lost track of time. But those bites across your neck say otherwise,” you stared pointedly at the affected area now, though it was covered by his hair in this position. His hand flew to his neck, as if only just realising they were on display.

“That’s none of your business Potter,” he countered, now irritated and still trying to hide the hickies on his neck with only his palm.

“It actually is my business when you’re both late to your job and lying to my Father,” you threw back, shoving forward and relishing in his slight stumble back– as if he hadn’t yet noticed the two of you were so so close.

“You can’t–” his eyes were wide, worried, as he grabbed your elbow, forcing you to meet his gaze, “You can’t tell him. He’ll be so disappointed and I can’t–”

Now it was your turn to frown over the devastation so wrought over his face. And if you two were anyone else, you might’ve let it go. Might’ve–

“Well tough shit, Black. You’re an adult, now. This is the real world we’re talking about. Not whatever fantasy you’ve been away in for the past two years. And here, in the real world–” you gestured around yourself, “--actions have consequences. You slutting it up on the night before your first day at your new job isn’t much of an excuse, now is it?”

And really, you deserved it, now that you thought back. His anger was reasonable and your need to poke straight through his ribcage, wrap your fist around his heart and squeeze tight, was not.

“Oh, fuck you, Potter!” he bit out. “You’re accusing me of not acting like an adult when you literally still live at home! Not to mention you can’t have a decent conversation with anyone without throwing the most childish temper tantrum known to man. I might be slutting it up, as you’ve put it, but at least I’m getting some,” he was breathing hard now, and the more he spoke the more the anger burned away, but his words wouldn’t stop. In fact, you think you could see him cringe, in pain or guilt or some nervous tick, as he delivered the final blow.

“Maybe if you weren’t so miserable to be around all the time, someone might actually give it to you too.”

It didn’t take long for you to react. Nor did it take long for your hand to fly up and connect with his cheek, hard and final. He wasn’t even surprised, had seen it coming a mile way, maybe even from his first “fuck you”. Because he knew he deserved it and he remembered now why he had left two years ago. Sure, it wasn’t all you. There’d been others who had irked him to the point of wanting a fresh start. And even then, it wasn’t that you were one of those people– you just would get him so riled up, to the point where he could no longer trust the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered then, fighting the urge to look away from your glassy stare. “I’m sorry, Potter. You know I don’t mean it.”

And deep down inside, you did know. You knew you both brought out the worst in each other. Only, you could never figure out why that was. Why you wanted to hurl insults and slap him silly for every comment or look or stupid way he’d string together the most perfect sentence and his irritating eyes and mouth and–

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?”

You inhaled, all sudden, as if only just realising what you had done (or what you had thought). You brushed past him without a word, needing, more than ever, to put some space between the two of you. If not for your anger then for whatever pesky emotion was seeping through your cracks.

You were (reluctantly) pulled from wherever your thoughts had been racing to as you called into the store, “Just one moment!”

You didn’t see it, not then – too focused on keeping one foot in front of the other as you made your way back, escaping to the front of the shop, faking a polite smile as you greeted the awaiting customer– but Sirius collapsed, defeated, into the wall the moment you walked away.

Something was telling him that if he hadn’t just torn your heart to shreds with a string of insults then he might have done it some other way– some other way that might have left him in trouble with James, Lily and your parents for an entirely different set of reasons.

‘Cause Jesus Christ– he wanted to be the one to give you what you needed. Or rather, he needed to, desperately. And two years away hadn’t altered the line between the two of you from enemies to something more.

And Sirius truly debated if this was the moment for him to get back onto a train to anywhere you were not. It didn’t matter if he had no money or nowhere to be, but if it meant he could avoid killing you with words or kissing your face off– he couldn’t quite see a way out of his predicament.

James would kill him. As would your parents. And Lily– God, you prayed Lily never found out. She’d serve his head up on a platter and laugh while she did it. She was awfully protective of you, always on your side when you bickered with him. If anything, you loved her even more for it, having always noticed how you frowned a little deeper, detached a little more from yourself, whenever your parents favoured him in an argument.

“Sirius!” you shouted again, no longer faking your emotions but rather genuinely just exasperated by him once more.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He managed to not get lost in the labyrinth of books, and found you by the travel section, chatting good-naturedly with a blonde in a tight dress.

“How can I help, doll?” he asked the blonde in question. His one tactic for almost every conundrum he’d ended up in was avoidance. And bloody hell was he good at it.

He smiled at her, the customer, doing little to hide his admiration for the legs she had on display. She flushed a pretty pink, averting her gaze, lip between her teeth. Bingo!

“Christ, you’re disgusting,” you muttered, mouth pouting and quiet enough that only he could hear.

“Only for you, sweetheart, only for you,” he bit back, not wanting the currently oblivious customer clue in on their conversation. “So, how can I help?”

“She needs that book–” you pointed to the top shelf, well out of reach. “--the green spine that says Amsterdam, but I can’t reach it and the step ladder is too heavy.”

“Alas! Only ever needed for my body, it seems,” he moaned with an irritating amount of flourish.

“Whatever it takes to get the book down– do what you must, Black.” You patted his chest reassuringly, taking your spot, once again, behind the cash register.

“So– planning a trip are you?” Sirius asked in between excessive displays of strength as he hauled the bulky ladder with a single hand. You glared at the girl as she swooned at him, wanting, rather unreasonably, for her to combust right where she stood.

But that was a ridiculous thought to begin with. You could barely stand to be even within a metre’s distance of the guy, let alone on the receiving end of his affections. You were tired, emotional and dehydrated. Must be. Though a glance at the clock had you realising it had barely been an hour since your day had started.

So, maybe just emotional and dehydrated.

“I’m going to get a coffee from across the street,” you announced, slugging your tote bag onto your shoulder as you walked past the preoccupied pair. Not waiting for a response, you stepped out into the early morning sun, frowning, for once, at the glare in your eyes and not the irritant you’d left behind.

It was easier to refer to him as something pesky, infectious, fungus-like even, rather than the only person who knew how to break your heart (and despite your somewhat impenetrable facade, you let him do just that every time).

please please PLEASE reblog & leave some feedback <3 i'll boop you if you do x

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x f!reader #sirius black fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #sirius black angst #sirius black smut #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n

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saintlaurentisms · 3 months

Note

hi my love! been obsessed with the fictional club scene recently; was wondering if you could write me a quick smutty club bathroom/dancefloor blurb!!! have fun with it, i love ya <3 :3

fulfilling the fantasy.

A/N: i had so much fun writing this, holy shit. this is dedicated to all of the harry & ashton fans in the world (and on the internet!), i see you and i believe you have taste.

gif credit.

summary: in which, you and your boyfriend go out to celebrate a successful first tour gig and the adrenaline seriously heightens emotions. ~ featuring ashton irwin of 5 seconds of summer.

content warning: smut (semi-public p-in-v sex in front of a mirror, voyeurism, threesome (???), dirty talk (degradation + praise), oral sex (male receiving), some hair pulling, daddy kink.) this work is intended for those 18+ and should be read by mature audiences only.

word count: 2.7k+ words.

The post-concert adrenaline hadn’t wavered in Harry’s veins, that much was evident. When you looked at him, all you could see was the radiance of energy and purity of happiness; evergreen in his eyes, the rose color in his lips, the blackness of ink that shone underneath the arctic hues of blue and white in the nightclub you and Harry had ventured to in the darkness of the evening. It was risky going out, especially at a time where One Direction fans were probably having their own adventure, still riding the high of seeing their favorite band perform live, but you nor Harry seemed to care.

Tonight was all about him, all about celebrating a successful first show and the beginning of the On the Road Again tour. The rest of the boys had preoccupied themselves with their own forms of fun, leaving you and Harry by yourselves. Upon entering the venue, you beelined towards the bar, your hand in Harry’s with your heads bowed to try and keep your identities a bit of a secret. You’re in the middle of ordering a round of vodka shots for you both before you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn your head to get a glance at who could have tapped you, though you’re already suspecting it was a fan.

You were wrong.

“Holy shit, Ashton?” You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing at the man in front of you. Harry’s eyes widen a bit at your words, turning his body fully to face the drummer, abandoning the bartender and the prospect of alcohol. It had been a while since you’d interacted with Ashton in person, only really communicating via text or video chat since you last saw him a year ago. Of course, it had been far longer for Harry; One Direction had 5 Seconds of Summer on tour with them in 2013 and 2014 and they all grew quite close during that time, but their communication had fizzled out due to how busy both bands became.

“I knew it was you!” Ashton grins, hazel eyes glimmering with excitement as the pair of you take each other in. The buzz of chemistry between you and the Australian was palpable – palpable enough for anyone to notice it, including Harry.

Harry’s lips twitch up into a small smile at the interaction taking place in front of him, yet an ugly, gnawing feeling in his gut is slowly beginning to grow; he knew you were attracted to Ashton when you’d met back in 2013 and that Ashton reciprocated those feelings once you both had gotten to know one another. However, you and Harry had just begun dating and knew that nothing would come of your little crush on the drummer. Still, a deep-seated insecurity nestled its way into his bones and, apparently, hadn’t quite left.

Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the unsettling amount of jealousy your boyfriend was beginning to feel made his evergreen eyes go emerald; hard, darkened. “We’re celebrating tour,” Harry cuts in, instinctively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “the first show was earlier on.”

“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine,” Ashton replies playfully, “Niall. Niall’s the grapevine. He asked if the boys and I could catch the show, but we were busy. Will you be in Australia for a bit?”

“Yes! Yeah, we’ll be in Australia. 1D has shows in Brisbane and Melbourne.” The words tumble out of your mouth and it sounds as though you’re a walking advert for your boyfriend’s band. Clearly, Ashton finds it cute because he’s chuckling at your unfiltered enthusiasm the minute you stop rambling.

“Well, it was great to see you guys. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He smiles, though his words are a slight dig at your boyfriend; Ashton could tell Harry’s guard was up and the jealousy that he exuded was crystal clear. At least, it was to him.

You, on the other hand, were too wrapped up in excitement to truly take note.

The drummer leaves you and Harry at the bar, going back into the atmosphere of the club. You spot him joining a group of friends at a table. Part of you wishes he’d stay and chat more, but the evening wasn’t about socializing, it was about basking in the glory of your popstar beau.

Everything seems to return back to normal; you turn your attention back to the bar and order that round of vodka shots for yourself and Harry. The two of you are two shots deep before his gaze falls on you, “D’you want to fuck him?”

You choke on the alcohol, sputtering slightly with wide eyes at the incredibly unexpected question. “W-What? What the fuck are you- are you talking about?” You speak between breaths, trying to regain composure. Harry wasn’t usually so direct, this only happened whenever sex was involved, so why he was so upfront confused you a bit.

“Do you want to have sex with Ashton?”

“Harry,” You look at him incredulously, “don’t be ridiculous. No, I don’t want to sleep with Ashton.”

“Don’t lie, Y/N. You’ve always fancied him, we both know that.”

“So what? I’m with you, I love you. Want you, not him. It’s just a little celebrity crush, H. You know I’d-”

“Darling,” Harry interrupts with a chuckle, amused by your immediate instinct to reassure him that you’d never entertain infidelity. He knew how committed you were to him. “S’ not what I mean. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. M’ askin’ if you’d ever thought about fucking him.”

You weren’t sure whether to be truthful or to set aside your feelings. On one hand, he was only asking you if you’d thought about it or had ever fantasized about it, yet on the other hand, a part of you was sure that if you answered with the truth, he’d get angry with you. However, Harry had never been the type to get angry over honesty. In fact, he preached being truthful.

“I’ve… thought about it, yeah. It isn’t really a fantasy about him fucking me, though. It’s more- well, it’s more about you and him.”

Your boyfriend blinks, “A threesome?”

“Kind of? I- I guess you could describe it that way. You, uhm.. You take turns.”

At this, the popstar is silent. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks for a brief moment.

“We share you.”

You cringe at Harry’s words. The lewdness of his sentence lingers and makes you feel queasy, “When you put it like that, I sound like a slut. I hate how that sounds.”

“Baby, there’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to explore having more than one sexual partner. ‘Spose it is a threesome you’re wanting. I…” He trails off, pearly teeth nibbling at his lower lip as he starts to think deeply once more, diving head first into the depths of his head.

“Yeah?” You coax, eyebrows raising slightly.

“I’ll be honest, m’ a bit jealous about it- the idea of another man takin’ you. But, if it’s just a one time thing, I think I could be okay with it.” Harry replies sincerely, green eyes meeting your own briefly. “One night only, the two of us makin’ you ours for an evening.”

Those words go straight to your core and your brain begins to conjure up filthy images of Ashton and Harry taking turns pleasing you. Your thighs squeeze together in order to quell the heat beginning to bloom in between them. “Please?” You ask quietly, gazing up at your boyfriend with faux innocence; a little look like this tends to send Harry into dominant overdrive.

He smirks, “Text him and tell him to meet us in the bathroom, love.”

Within eight minutes, Ashton is tapping on the club’s bathroom door before swiftly entering and locking it behind him. His hazel eyes glance over at Harry, then at you. “Are you sure about this?”

You’d texted the drummer about the situation when your boyfriend had told you to, not leaving any important details out of it. It was made clear: you, Harry and Ashton, fucking in the club’s bathroom. The only opportunity you’d ever get to have both of the men you deemed incredibly fit and had the most chemistry with.

You nod confidently, “I’m sure, I promise.”

Like a switch had flipped, Ashton’s gaze meets Harry’s again, but there’s a haze in it; his once bright hazel eyes are clouded with desire. Some silent conversation is had between their eyes, maybe it’s both men agreeing to the terms – whatever it is, they both exude an aura of dominance that has your heartbeat increasing. You’ve never wanted to be on your knees this badly before.

The feeling of Harry’s lips brushing against your ear brings you out of your reverie and a short gasp leaves your lips as they trail downward and press a deep kiss to your neck. Ashton walks forward, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he brings his lips to yours, sealing your fate.

The affair becomes a blur of quick movements and kisses shared as time progresses. The soft clink of belts being unbuckled and heavy breathing fills the room when you’re finally brought down to your knees, eyes feigning innocence as you look up at Ashton. His hand is wrapped around his cock, the tip of it right at your lips.

“Go on, baby. Show Ashton how much of a good little slut y’ are.” Harry encourages you, leaning against the sink with his hand tugging slowly at his length. Without much else, your lips wrap around the drummer’s dick, your head bobbing up and down in order to take more of it in.

“Fuck,” Ashton swears through gritted teeth, his free hand weaving itself into your hair, gently guiding your movements, “so good, doll. Keep goin’ just like that for me.”

You do, you allow him to guide your movements with each tug on your hair, furthering his cock into your mouth. It’s sloppy; tears are welling in your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat, your saliva is coating his dick and your chin. “She’s such a slut for it, Styles. Damn, you got lucky.” Ashton groans low in his throat, which makes Harry smirk.

“Bet you’re absolutely dripping, aren’t you baby? Adore being used, don’t you?” Your boyfriend taunts you, evergreen eyes watching you suck off his friend. All you can do is look at him as validation for his statement.

Ashton’s fingers wrapping in the strands of your hair becomes slightly fiercer, pulling and pushing your lips up and down his length as he chases euphoria. “Fuck, I’m close.” He warns, hazel eyes shutting as he tries his damndest to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your eyes flit towards Harry, who’s still watching you give Ashton a blowjob, his hand tugging at his cock lazily. A devilish grin has throned itself upon his lips, “Cum for her, Ash.”

The drummer’s fingers twitch momentarily, then still. A guttural groan leaves his lips as his head tilts back and his cock throbs in between your lips, emptying himself into your mouth. Eagerly, you swallow what he gives you – and it’s a lot; thick streams of cum paint your tongue white.

Ashton pulls away from you once his cock starts to soften, tucking himself back into his trousers and gently helping you up from off your knees. “That was- shit, that was really fuckin’ good.”

“I- uh.. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You reply a bit bashfully. “Now, do you mind if Harry and I…” You trail off, hoping he’d take the hint that you wanted to be alone with your significant other.

Thankfully, he does. Ashton turns to look at himself in the mirror above the sink, straightening himself out before saying goodbye to you and Harry, then asking your boyfriend to text him. He unlocks the door and disappears into the club.

You make quick work of locking it once more, then face your boyfriend. Harry gestures you over to him and the minute you’re standing in front of him, both of his hands grip your waist. He wastes no time in undressing your lower half and bending you over the sink, one of his hands reaching to pull at your hair so your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror. He’s being rough, but you hadn’t expected much else; whenever he got really aroused, his dominant side would peak significantly.

“Did you like having Ashton’s dick down your throat, darling? I know you did, I can feel just how wet you are.” He teases you, the head of his length pressing up against your entrance. “I think you enjoyed it a bit too much, Y/N. D’you need to be reminded of who you belong to, baby?”

You swallow thickly, eyes meeting his through the mirror, “Yes.”

“Sorry? Didn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “Yes, Daddy.”

The feeling of Harry’s cock stretching you out overwhelms your senses, your nails claw at the sink as he bottoms out. “Have to be quick,” He grunts as his hips start to move, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy at an unrelenting pace, “but I’ll make damn sure you know who you belong to once m’ finished.”

You can’t speak, your lips are parted as heavy breaths and choked moans roll off of your tongue as your boyfriend takes you. Harry’s right hand finds your clit, the pads of his fingers start toying with the sensitive pearl. “Look at you, takin’ my cock like the perfect slut that y’ are. Should fulfill more of your fantasies if this is how bloody good you’ll be.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes- yes, please!” You mewl, the prospect of exploring more of your desires with the man that you love makes you more aroused, your pussy clenches around his cock at the thought. “I- I love being your p-perfect little slut.”

“I know, angel. So fuckin’ perfect f’ Daddy.”

A whine leaves your lips, “God, Harry, I’m gonna cum.”

“Not before you tell me who you belong to, baby.”

Another whine leaves your lips; he’s playing a game with you and if you don’t obey the rules, you won’t get to orgasm. You need to orgasm.

“Yours, Harry. I- I’m all yours.”

He gives a particularly rough thrust and his teeth scrape at your ear, “Who’s pussy is this?”

You gasp, “Yours.”

“That’s right, angel. Now you can cum f’ me.”

Harry’s fingers on your clit continue to rub quick circles, his eyes fixated on your features twisting up in pure ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard; jaw slack, eyes pinched shut, pussy throbbing around his cock.

The feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice triggers his own orgasm. He buries his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the loud groan that reverberates in his chest, his stomach clenching as he empties himself inside of you.

“Holy shit.” You chuckle breathlessly as your orgasms begin to dissipate. Harry’s hand falls away from your clit and he gingerly begins to pull out of you, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the feeling.

“Are you alright?” He asks, helping you steady yourself as you straighten up.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. I do have a question for you,” You begin, just as you both start redressing, “were you being serious about fulfilling more of my fantasies? Or was that the testosterone talking?”

Harry grins, “Definitely not just the testosterone. We’ve never actually discussed what sexual fantasies you’ve had.”

“Do you have any?” You ask curiously, quietly wracking your brain for a possible answer he might give.

“Not very many, but I do have a few. Don’t think we should begin discussing them now, darling. We’ve been in here for a long time.” He replies, taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, then wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Right,” You giggle, “we should go.”

Harry reaches to unlock the bathroom door and leads you back out into the club, the both of you exiting with smug expressions on your faces and one shared thought…

If this was only one of your fantasies, what else could you both explore?

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inlandempir · 8 months

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post on one of the dev forums for disco elysium, titled "THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD". text version beneath the cut

There's been a lot of art and tech talk so far, it's all kinda dry or saccharine. I think it's time to juice it up by throwing in a proper essay.

THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD

The world of No Truce! (we do have a proper name for it, but we’re shy) is not what you’d call “a generic genre world”. It is not pseudo-medieval stasis, as Forgotten Realms was, nor is it Fallout’s campy barbarism with guns. It is also not a Harry Potter/Batman/vampire fantasy world, which is basically “our world with a secret/special world within it”. Neither is it the tech-obsessed ‘punks’ of steam and cyber. It’s a modern fantasy world, a fantasy world in its modernity, which roughly corresponds to the middle part of our XXth century. Now that kind of thing opens up an array of new possibilities. It is a world with a promise of non-staticness, meaning, things appear undecided — they could go one way or the other. It is close enough to our own world for things to have meaning in it, it is a proper frame in which to explore themes relevant to our own society such as bigotry, power relations, politics, bureaucratic apparati, geopolitical relations, philosophy, ideology, religion et cetera. A pseudo-medieval world is not a proper frame for truly exploring themes of, for example, sexuality, for it lacks 1) a proper concept of sexuality, 2) an actual idea of societal progress and 3) a clear ideological dominant, which would be the place where values come from. All you can do in a static, societally unstructured world is give out-of-place shoutouts to present day communities for cheap popularity (“this is exactly my sexual orientation, how did they know?!”).

We find the ideological dominant missing because the western world is traditionally culturally critical of ideological dominants – critical of both state and religion. Anyhow, a classic fantasy world would feature two main ideologies – the “good” and the “evil”, of which the former is selfless and compassionate, but the other one is selfish and cruel. The attempts to overcome that have given us the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is an asshole and pessimism rules the day. Unsurprisingly, Grittywelt is also static as hell and meaningful change is foreclosed from it. It is a “protection from false hopes”. As such, it is heavily unrealistic. Much more realistic would be people living in super gritty conditions, but not looking the part, that is, not really noticing the abnormal harshness of their conditions, because they don’t have much to compare them to, and being hopeful towards the next day, because surprise! This is how you do it. Survive, I mean. Being depressed is a luxury. In a way, I’d say we’re trying to create the obverse of the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is empathizable, sort of a hero of their own story.

The modern era is also a fitting vessel for anachronisms – do we not have actual cyborg limbs and donkey-pulled carts operating in the same world at the modern era? Capitalism can also contain little feudalisms in a way, in which a single man or single family controls the entire economy of a town or a village and profits from it. And at the same time, it can also contain little socialist utopias, scientist villages, in which everything is provided by the State. Aside from being a basic feature of reality (anachronism is nothing more than time failing to fit the stereotype about it), it is also a lovable creative tool, allowing for a plethora of what-if-scenarios. Imagine a modern world, only without television; imagine a modern world in which there never was a global war, imagine a world in which fossil fuels are less available. Now, if you will, imagine one which has forgotten its antiquity, and one, in which there is not just water between the continents, but something worse as well — an anti-reality mass we call “pale” (also more on that later). Now imagine one, which has a legitimate and operative “religion of history” in place, which seeks for people it deems special enough to be the “vessel of progress”. (This is not an alternate history thing, by the way. An alternate history takes place in our world quite recognizably and has no more than one divergence point from history as it happened.)

One might ask, why would we not create an even more modern world, if we wanted to maximise our possibilities? Well one of the answers is that it would have destroyed the necessary element of escapism, another is that we cannot create a good alternate Information Era because we ourselves fail to understand the Information Era (More precicely, we have the information era in its infancy and it works via radio relays). We are too close to it and it is too new to understand it, it is “in progress”. The third reason would be that technology is not a fascinating subject for modern science fiction. It’s become a natural part of our reality. We don’t believe it’s going to save us anymore – it has failed to deliver for too long. I am of the belief that the themes of science fiction today are societal, political and psychological (one could maybe add aesthetical to it, for we also love the world for its beauty). All fantastic or sci-fi elements are means for best exploring those themes.

I have filled my page. That’s all for the time being. Thank you for reading.

Martin Luiga Writer

#posts #disco elysium #martin luiga #im looking for a specific thing from the devblogs so yall can get some highlights

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allwaswell16 · 5 months

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🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔

🌟 Baking In December by Itstilliswhatitis

Louis can't believe it! His sisters signed him up for a competition at some bakery and they won! Now he has to spend every day of December baking something with a random dude. Except, the random dude is named Harry and he's hot! Louis realises that this Christmas might be extra special!

🎁 Be Merry All by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}

there is a specific sort of oppression that comes with a miserable so-cal christmas, when it’s dark and dirty and rainy or else it's too hot and too bright and everyone’s hustling, and your family is all far away and the laundry machines in your building are broken and you’ve eaten too much take-out and all you want is two seconds of quiet and maybe a morsel of holiday joy.

🕯️ Can I Fly Home by @sadaveniren {Fic post}

“Nothing? A seventy-eight year old woman just gave birth. It’s clearly supernatural stuff at work. How could you say no?” “No.” “Come on, the mystery has to be getting to you just a little.” “Granny being horny isn’t a mystery, Lou. We’re supposed to be on a break until the new year. The real mystery is why you aren’t content to just stay in one place. We’ve hunted everything imaginable to hunt.” “And yet weird shit still ends up happening, fancy that.” He saw Louis change tactics, sticking out his lower lip, pleading. “Please? Check it out with me and then maybe we’ll come back here for Christmas.” AKA Louis and Harry have been hunting together since they were teenagers and it's beginning to take a toll. Harry wants to retire. Louis plans to die hunting. Maybe a "Christmas Miracle" is just what they need. An advent fic.

🦌 Christmas Advent Calendar by enchantedlandcoffee / @alarrylittlechristmas {Fic post}

A collection of holiday drabbles written and posted leading up to Christmas. One posted per day.

🥁 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 {Fic post}

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

⛄ the holiday remix - choose ur adventure advent series by warmcuppatea / @hlplease {Fic post}

“I love you so much, yeah? And we’ve talked about moving in together when my lease ends. And we’ll be spending so much time together for the holidays, and you know, we get on so smashingly-” “Louis-” Harry laughed. “Spit it out!” “-So I was thinking,” Louis laughed, rubbing his face. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m so nervous!” He laughed. “I was thinking we should test-run living together this month.” Harry and Louis are very in love, but moving in together feels huge. So, naturally, Louis has the idea to do a holiday test-run.

🔔I'll Be Home For Christmas by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {Fic post}

Harry's life seems to be going well. He has a great job working at Festive Furnishings, he has an amazing three year old son called Danny, and his favourite time of the year is approaching. Just as Harry thinks everything is finally going to plan, he finds out that he is going to be losing his home just before Christmas. Louis Tomlinson is happy enough with his lot. He's the CEO of a company he started years ago, Festive Furnishings, he has great colleagues, especially his assistant Harry, and he has the best nephew in the world. But the thing is, Louis is lonely. He has a beautiful house but it's too quiet, especially at this time of year. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. While struggling to find somewhere warm and safe for himself and Danny to stay, Harry makes a decision that might just change the course of everything... and bring himself and Louis closer together as well...

🍪 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {Fic post}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on now, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype. It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

🎄 kay's 25 days of smutmas by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow {Fic post}

Starting on December 1st, I will be posting a new smut fic everyday until Christmas! These are all one shots of varying lengths and content. As they are posted, I will add the links to this post, summaries and lengths will be included under the break! All fics will be Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson.

💌 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 {Fic post}

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

❤️ Love Actually [L.S.] by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass {Fic post}

Louis Tomlinson has just became Prime Minister of the UK. Harry Styles is a housekeeper at 10 Downing Street. Louis can't help but be enthralled with Harry. But, unfortunately, love has a funny of fucking punching you in the gut.

🎅 Neondiamond's 2023 Christmas Ficlet Party {Fic post}

If you know me at all, you’ll know that two of the things I enjoy most are writing fluffy ficlets, and Christmas. This year, I decided to combine the two and create my own little Christmas ficlet party all throughout December! 8 ficlets, 4 different pairings, many different tropes—all short, fluffy and festive! Perfect for a quick reading break with a warm drink!

☃️ Snow In Love by @lululawrence {Fic post}

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny. People thought they were already dating. Weird. An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

🌲 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {Fic post}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🔔 they're singing 'deck the halls' (but it's not like christmas at all) by doesanyonehearrunningwotah

Louis Tomlinson is no fan of Christmas. Between his douchebag ex-husband/co-parent, his two teenage kids, and the awful fact of his torn-apart family, the holiday season isn't looking to be all that festive. But maybe a boy's trip with his closest friends will lead him to something that'll make the season a little more bearable. Or the one where Louis' a bit of a grinch, Harry's a gorgeous present, and there's more weight to the past than either of them would like.

❄️ We Can Roll in the Darkness by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}

Top and Bottom Construction Co. - “We’ll get the job done, however you prefer it!” Louis looks up from the flyer, and back at Niall. “You must be joking?” Niall shakes his head, his mischievous grin only going wider. “Nope! I already researched them. They have glowing reviews AND they’re affordable. It’s perfect!” He pauses then to give Louis a cheeky wink. “Besides their website says they’re full service.” (Or the one where Louis and his best mate Niall decide to take the plunge and open a pub. The goal is to open Christmas Day, but the building renovations are proving trickier than expected. Insert: a construction company with a questionable name, a certain curly haired builder who catches Louis’ attention, and a little festive chaos along the way).

✨ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}

Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is. Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon. Happy Christmas, here's to many more.

#these are in alphabetical order because that's how I roll #adventfics #advent2023 #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #trackinghappily #1dficvillage #ficsfor4am

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jadeittic · 9 months

Text

THERE’S NO CHANCE!

“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”

HARRY STYLES + ACTRESS!READER SOCIAL MEDIA AU

It’s Oscars night! We don’t know if they’ll interact, but we’re hoping! Fingers crossed, who will win?

theacademy

liked by orlandobloom, sophiet, and others

theacademy Our host tonight is Harry Styles. Who will win?

view all 27,916 comments

username SHUT UP. IS HE WEARING THAT TONIGHT????

username RINGS?????

username His outfit!! Oh my god!

username i cant WAITTT OMG WHERE CAN I WATCH

username Aaah!! So hyped for tonight

harrynews

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harrynews Harry at the oscars red carpet!

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username GIRL NOT HIM BEING ALMOST LATE AGAIN

username IF HE WAS ALMOST LATE THEN WHAT ABOUT YN

username HIS OUTFIT :(( im seriously going to cry

username he knows he ate

username He looks so nervous!

username HARRY 🤏🤏

ynnews

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ynnews YN at the oscars red carpet tonight!

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username YN wasn’t late, everyone was simply just early.

username SHES SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD???

username Her outfit is the exact opposite of Harry’s! So cute omg

harrynews

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harrynews First look at Harry at the Oscars on stage!

view all 380 comments

username GOOOODDD HE LOOKS SO GOOD

username His hair! His suit! His everything, he looks so handsome!

username im about to say unspeakable things rn

username HE LOOKS SO HAPPY TO BE THERE OH MY GOD :(

celebnews

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celebnews YN LN wins best actress Oscar for La La Land.

view all 5,416 comments

username SHUT UP.

username OH MY GOD YES I LOVE THIS MOVIE 😭😭

username Omg! she was so happy!!

username HARRY’S REACTION TO HER WIN IM SICK

username Deserved!!! This movie deserves all the awards it gets.

ynnews

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ynnews YN’s speech after her win for Best Actress! Congratulations, YN!

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username SHES SO HAPPY I LOVE HER SO MUCH!

username everyone was in tears omg

username I love how she didn’t exclude anyone in her full speech. She deserves the world

username WHOS ANGEL????

username maybe mr. ‘only angel’?????? harry styles???

username SHUT UP

harrynews

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harrynews Harry giving YN her Oscar!

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username HEART EYES. HE HAD HEART EYES FOR HER

username He looked like he didn’t want to let go!

username THE SMILES ON THEIR FACES I KNEW THEY WERE FRIENDS

username ynrry stans are winning at life rn 🥹

lloyddddddddddddddddd

liked by paulithepsm, annetwist, and others

lloyddddddddddddddddd Harry Styles and YN LN at The Oscars.

(I just met my long time celebrity crush. SHE SAID SHE WAS A BIG FAN OF MY WORK)

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username I DROPPED TO MY KNEES WHAT THE HELL

username LONG TIME CELEB CRUSH IS REAL

lloyddddddddddddddddd She said hi to me and asked for a selfie 😭

username STOP LLOYD IS SO REAL

username THE MORE I SEE MORE YNRRY PHOTOS THE TEARS KEEP DROPPING AND DROPPING

username not lloyd meeting yn before i did 😔💔

username SELFIE REVEAL???

lloyddddddddddddddddd The craziest thing is that SHE TOOK THE PHOTO ON HER PHONE.

username LLOYD IS LIVING THE DREAM

username another day of wanting to be lloyd…

harrynews

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harrynews “Being on this stage and kissing YN LN on the cheek? I could die happily.” — Harry after YN’s speech at The Oscars.

view all 5,627 comments

username CRAZY. HES CRAZY TONIGHT

username WHAT DID HE DRINK BEFORE THE SHOW?????

username Bro kissed YN once and hes acting like he holds the whole world in his hands 😭

username BECAUSE HE KISSED YN LN I WOULD TOO IF I WAS HARRY

username you sure her cheek is the only thing you kissed, harry?

username HELP????

username WHAT

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, laufey, rinasonline, and others

yourinstagram From the depths of my heart, thank you. Thank you for believing in me, and for being the driving force behind everything I do. Your unwavering support, dedication, and enthusiasm have touched my heart in ways words can hardly express. Thank you.

I promise I’ll start posting more. Love you x

view all 29,430 comments

username yn with her monthly post and still eating EVERY SINGLE TIME

jeffreydeanmorgan So proud of you! You deserve everything ❤️

devonleecarson ure amazing. ❤️

username from being a background actor to this! youve worked so hard to be where youre at now. you deserve it.

lloyddddddddddddddddd Congrats YN! So lovely to finally meet you 💘

username I NEED TO SEE THE SELFIE OR IM GOING TO RIOT

username YN, selfie reveal please!!!

harrystyles I am immensely proud of you and for everything you do and everything you are. ❤️

username HES SO EARLY THIS IS SO

username JUST THE WAY HE TALKS TO PEOPLE MAKES ME SOB

username HARRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username SO MANY YNRRY THINGS HAPPENING WHATS NEXT???? SELFIE OF THEM TGT ON HER STORY????

username I’m literally bracing myself for impact as we speak

username FR LIKE IDEK WHAT IM EXPECTING AT THIS POINT

harrynews

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harrynews Harry commenting on YN LN’s post!

view all 274 comments

username “for everything you do and everything you are” IS HE TRYING TO KILL US????

username OHHH IM SO UP I LOVE THEM ALREADY

username If they’re dating, I want her to be the one 🙏

username THATS ENOUGH IM ALREADY CRYING

username …can someone CALM ME DOWN

username this is a revolution i tell you

username No I am so happy to be alive and witnessing this rn

username WHAT RIZZ DID THIS GUY HAVE TO PULL THE YN LN????

yourinstagram via instagram story

harrystyles via instagram story

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fake ig #harry styles instagram blurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles × reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x you #harry styles instagram au #jadeittic

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hella1975 · 1 year

Text

im simultaneously terrified and excited out of my mind for june

#the highlight of the month should be seeing sam fender in ST JAMES PARK in his HOMETOWN in concert #OR seeing harry styles in not just LONDON but THEE wembley arena #OR flying out to america for a month long road trip with the moots #NOT ALL THREE AT ONCE #truly so blessed like yes saving up is gonna be hard #but I’ve found pretty cheap ways around things so far and I’ve already saved enough for the plane tickets and all of the concert shit #so I just need to save for the actual roadtrip (‘just’ as if I don’t need £1k+)#BUT STILL AJSJAKKAJAHSKKS #and like the way I’m seeing sam fender with one friend and harry styles with two different friends #and then flying out to see my favourite people ever that somehow care about me despite being on other sides of the WORLD #like hello???? bestie said ‘I’m gonna fill this life with love if it kills me’ AND THEN I FUCKING DID #need a tag for the america trip bc not only am I planning to spam post about it but also some of u rlly want to see me live react to america #which honestly be ready for a new level of annoying bc america is such a CONCEPT to me like it’s like a movie set #im partially convinced it isn’t real #so I’m just gonna be so disorientated and I WILL feel the need to talk about any tiny cultural different #rwbt 2.0 #<- that’s the tag #in honour of rwbt first edition 🫡#(red white and blue on tour)#(we’re back bitches!)

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

dad!headcanons — harry potter ♡

requested by @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 <3

harry potter x fem!reader, dad!harry, headcanons, fluff, headcanons for biological and adopted children

harry potter as a dad

biological children

•harry wasn’t sure if he wanted kids. he hadn’t had the best examples of parenting, he was never around young children or babies

•but when you came to him, pregnant, it felt like (almost) all of his worries fizzled. they weren’t as important as you, and the child you’d created together

•he visited his parents’ graves when he found out. to say hi, to ask for advice, to maybe just tell them they were going to be grandparents

•goes to see andromeda tonks too, where she’s raising teddy lupin. realises how much this child is something he wants

•when the time comes, he’s an amazing father

•splits responsibilities with you, never lets you end up doing everything

•has such a bond with his kid, and it’s not long before he’s tentatively bringing up the subject of more

•toys everywhere, he’s not a must-be-tidy-at-all-times dad. we’re talking magical train sets, muggle rubber ducks, doll houses, push cars, everything he passes in a shop somewhere

•naturally such a girl dad, but he is so happy with a little boy too. anything he can love

•makes such a big deal out of birthdays, really goes overboard

•raised around so many cousins and friends, massive family times, so many game nights gone wrong

•sincerely apologizing for the attention being a potter will bring his family, but they don’t really mind. at least he’s famous for a good thing

•as they get older, and they’re off to hogwarts, of course he’s missing them. he doesn’t want to stifle them, but the letters are twice a week, at least

•and your kids were raised well, with love, so they have no problem writing back to them all, and they know their home is always a safe place

•harry sleeps well at night knowing he created the home he wanted

•will cry at their weddings, if they happen

adopted children

•three scenarios — you’ve had a biological child, you want more, and for whatever reason that is, you two decide to adopt (harry’s fully supportive of this)

•or, for whatever personal reasons, you can’t or don’t want a biological child (harry’s fully supportive of this)

•or, not long after the war, the wizarding world is still overrun with orphans. there are leaflets everywhere begging couples to adopt. you wanted to expand your family as it was, and harry’s worries were overcome both by his previously mentioned visits, and his desire to not let voldemort ruin the lives of any more children

•whatever it is, he loves them like his own. because they are his own.

•all the prior headcanons, because nothing changes for either of you. your family may not be nuclear, but why should it have to be?

•if anyone pokes fun at their adoption, you best believe harry is up there like a flash to get someone seriously scolded, and you aren’t far behind him

•when the time comes to tell your kids, harry is perfect with it. he knows what to say. you don’t leave it too long either, harry knows what it is to feel lied to about your family

•if any relationships struggle around that time, the strain is physically clear on harry. but he waits for them to be ready, knowing how personal it is

in conclusion

•in any situation, harry loves his children

•he’s a good dad. nobody is perfect, he’ll maks mistakes, but not with the gravity of the one’s he feared

🏷️ — @faeriieblush @poppet05 @it-be-me-ella @juneberrie @ell0ra-br3kk3r @meredarling

#starstruckwillows #lightning era #golden trio era #harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter hurt/comfort #dad!harry #dad!harry potter #harry potter x reader #dad!harry potter x reader #headcanons #harry potter htc #harry potter headcanons #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader

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mydearesthrry · 9 months

Text

honeyed mornings - h.s.

a/n: new universe perhaps? dadrry with y/n and little miss daisy... love you, enjoy!

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, the sweetest little girl you ever did see, dadrry (again, a warning of its own), one f bomb

🐇 pairing: dad/husbandrry x fem!reader

💐 wc: 1.2k

summary: the little princess is in a chatty mood, and more home videos are born.

“Hi mama,” Harry purrs, a soft rasp in his voice as he walks into their shared bedroom. “What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Little peanut over here decided to come run into the room ten minutes after her Daddy left for his run.” She smiles widely, a happy gleam in her eyes at the sight of Harry being home.

“Really? Well that jus’ won’t do. Had y’up until three last night, Mama. Y’need your sleep." A boyish grin graced Harry's features at the mention of the night prior, earning an eye roll from his wife. How ‘bout I come back in here after I shower and we have a lazy day in? Can keep baby bunny in here so if she wakes up I can take care of her, if y’want. Sounds good?” YN couldn’t lie and say she didn’t get distracted watching her husband pad around their large room, slowly pulling off his clothes while he gathered things for his shower. She didn’t even realize that he’d stopped talking and just stood on her side of the bed, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Helloooo, is there anyone home?”

A giggle sounded in the spacious area. “Sorry, baby. Just got distracted. What did you say?”

“Nothing at all, lovie. Wait up for me, yeah? Be back in twenty minutes, tops.” With that he placed a soft kiss onto her forehead, brushing back her hair that had gone awry in the time he’d been gone, and walked over to the connected bathroom.

While she scrolled on her phone to pass time, her sweet daughter had woken up. “Good morning, sweet Daisy.”

“Hi mommy,” A yawn cut off the tiny girl, her hands coming up to her face to knuckle her eyes. “Is Daddy home?”

YN was about to answer before she heard Harry’s soft voice ring in the air. “Hi Tiny!” Harry’s voice made their daughter perk up, sitting up slightly while still in the crook of her mothers arm. Clad in a pair of basketball shorts with a towel in his hand drying his hair, he wore a loud and bright smile proudly. “Good morning, baby!”

“Daddy!” She squealed, making grabby hands toward Harry who immediately threw the towel onto a nearby chair, walking over to the bed in record speed. Pulling back the covers, he hopped in with no hesitation, grabbing his little girl and placing her on his stomach. They were chest to chest, faces mere inches apart, giggles coming out of his daughter's lips when he pulled a few funny faces and crossed his eyes for the sole purpose of hearing her laugh.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, distracted in their own little world, YN was hiding her giggles behind her phone screen that was recording the two of them interacting. “Good mooooorning,” She started, introducing the start of a new home video. “Today is… August 4th, been off tour for a good while now, Daddy and Peanut decided to get their day started early.”

“Tha’s me! ‘M Peanut!” Daisy shrieked, her little three year old voice bellowed. A soft pout made it’s way onto Harry’s lips at the sound of her small voice. She was so fucking cute.

“Yeah bunny, y’are Peanut!” He grinned, kissing the top of her head that she’d dropped down on his chest, her face turned toward her mom.

“Where are we, little Bunny?” YN asked sweetly, reaching out to push a few unruly curls that had fallen into her daughter's face.

“Home!” She giggled.

“Which home, baby?” Harry said, lips still in her hair.

“The one with the water!” A cute drawl had made its way into her voice, unmistakably stolen from her father and his heavy accent.

“She means Italy, if these ever get posted… or leaked,” YN joked, knowing she’d probably release a few of these videos one day anyway. “Anyway, we’re in Italy, and we’re honestly having like… the time of our lives.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed in agreement. “Think this is one o’the most like, relaxing times we’ve had in Italy s’far.”

“Yeah!” Daisy agreed, not even fully knowing what her father was saying but agreeing nonetheless.

“Yeah, Bunny? Y’agree w’Daddy?” He smiled, pulling her from his chest to lay in the middle of him and his wife. Him and his tiny twin turned over at the same time, facing YN. Harry threw an arm over the two of them, hand coming over to rest on the slightly exposed skin of her thigh. She had on a large shirt that she’d thrifted from a random place in LA, nothing covering her lower half besides a pair of black cotton panties. The duvet came up to about her mid-thigh, which lay at Harry’s hip, and just covered Daisy’s calves.

“Yeah! Love Daddy! Daddy’s pretty– oh! But Mommy’s so pretty!” She babbled random things often, words coming together in a nonsensical stew.

“Oh, why thank you, sweet baby.” YN laughed, leaning forward to drop a kiss onto her daughter's forehead.

“Y’so sweet, little lady, aren’t ya?” Harry tickled the side of Daisy’s body, shrill giggles and loud laughter filling the air in a cast of yellow, the sun coming in through the blinds which accentuated their golden aura.

Wherever the little family went, love seemed to trail them in soft streaks of honeyed light.

“Sweets?” Their daughter perked up.

“Nonono, I said y’are sweet, baby, not sweets.” Harry tried to backtrack, but it was no use.

“Wan’ sweets! Sweets now, Daddy!” Both of her parents took a deep inhale, knowing that this was going to be an ordeal that lasted until noon, at best. They had a strict ‘no sugar before 12’ rule, one that Daisy was usually an angel to follow if she woke up at her normal time… which she hadn’t today. But the two of them also knew that Harry was basically a doormat for his daughter, and if she even asked in her sweet little voice, he would be persuaded without a word of detest.

“Oh God– Okay, we’re gonna say goodbye to the camera now before Daddy gets your sweets for you, okay?” YN said, sitting up and pulling up the covers to keep herself decent as she twisted her wrist for the camera to capture all three of them in frame.

“Bye bye! See y’later!” Daisy waved her tiny hand.

“Bye f’now, see y’soon!” Harry followed after her, sitting up as well and pulling his tiny girl into his lap.

“Byeeeeee!” YN giggled, leaning into Harry’s side when she felt his arm wrap around his waist.

She clicked her volume button to end the video, immediately going to her camera roll to watch it despite it being freshly recorded. She started the video on a low volume, a happy glow encasing her features. Harry watched on in awe, a blush covering his cheeks, love filling his eyes and making his eyes water slightly. He didn't ever believe he would get this-- get them.

“Sweets, Daddy?” Daisy giggled.

“Yeah, m’love, sweets.” And to absolutely no one's surprise, he caved. Harry stood from the bed, his hands underneath Daisy’s armpits as he hiked her up over his shoulder, her top half dangling from his body. Loud giggles and laughs filled the air as she lifted a hand to wave at her mom.

“Bye Mama!”

“Bye, baby!”

So much for a lazy day, right?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #dad!harry #dadrry #dad!harry styles #harry <3 #harry styles x fem!reader #husbandrry #husband!harry #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #honeyed moments universe

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shadowbriar · 3 months

Text

George Weasley - What Matters

Pairing : George Weasley x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.8k Warning : Takes place on the night after the Seven Potters event. Not proofread I'm too tired. Synopsis : Soothing conversation after what seems to be the greatest nightmare the couple had to live through. Notes : Part of Shadowbriar's 2024 Valentines Project. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

"Have you ever imagined a world where we’re not together?”

George frowns, lifting from the bed to lay on his side, his arm supporting his head. He watches her closely, seeing the glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. Supposed the nightmare of him arriving at the Burrow with blood soaking his shirt earlier was still etched in her mind.

The plan was a success, should one argue. Their objective was met. Harry is now safe and sound, sleeping in Ron’s room like a baby. Though some sacrifices needed to be made, loss to mourn and cry for, at least knowing that what they fought for was achieved would be the softer side of the bed they’ll sleep on tonight.

“No, never.” He says firmly, trying to provide some comfort for her “Why would I ever think that?”

She shrugs, “Reasons.”

Gently, George reaches for her hand and places it to his chest. He hopes that it could ease her wary mind a little. He wanted her to feel his heart beat, to feel his heat, to feel him. He knows that it would take more than sweet words and tender embraces tonight to get them through the night, to get them just a blink of sleep no matter how sore and aching their bodies are, but he has no idea how else he could comfort her when he too was still a little shaken from the event that occurred.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, her voice shaky as she tries her best not to let the tears fall “I should be the one comforting you, but I just—”

“Shh, it’s alright, Darling,” George says as he pulls her close “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” He reassures, patting her head gently “You’ll never lose me.”

“But I almost did, George. I almost lost you.”

“Love,” George pulls away a little, staring deep into her eyes with that boyish smile “It would take much more than Voldy’s gothic underling to keep us apart, trust me.”

She forces a smile, one that didn’t truly reach her eyes. Her stare was still vacant, like she’s trying to comprehend her surroundings and finding firm stepping after the rug beneath her feet was pulled. There has been no greater horror, no bigger fear and terror than the one she felt a couple hours ago.

“I can’t lose you,” She says to him “I just can’t.”

“I know. I can’t lose you, either.” He says gently, caressing her cheek “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“What’s left of you, you mean.”

George raised an eyebrow, “Meaning?”

“You lack an ear,” She tries to jest, smiling slightly bigger though her eyes still welled of tears “Can’t decide if it makes you lose a couple points in the appearance department or if it enhances it.”

“The latter, of course. You have one hell of an unkillable boyfriend,” He says proudly, grinning “Reckon muggles write it on their papers? A bloody ear fell from the sky. Imagine the horror!”

Her laughter finally breaks. Though it didn’t last as long as George wished it would, the lingering smile on her lips was enough to tell him that the storm is slowly passing. Gently, he leans in and kisses her. How the night went by was certainly unideal but now that she’s here, laying on his bed, everything feels alright. Like the pain on his ear was reduced into a slight itch and the soreness of his body was caused by nothing but a typical quidditch practice.

The sigh she let go as they parted lifted tons of her burden. The corners of her lips were still curled, satisfied with the solace they could both find in each other though chaos still unravels around them. It was modest and unadorned, but much more than enough to soothe both of their scarred minds.

“I love you,” She says softly “I don’t want to ever imagine a world without you.”

“Then don’t,” George answers “Don’t imagine it, don’t think about it, don’t worry about it because it would never happen. It’s us or nothing, remember? That’s all that matters.”

She chuckles, “That’s a bit extreme now, init? Us or nothing?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have anyone other than you,” He argues, raising an eyebrow “Do you have anyone you’d have other than me?”

“There’s a short list of possible names.” She jokes once again “You’re in my top three at the moment, honestly.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay, top five now from that comment.”

George let out a satisfied laughter, pulling her head close to his chest that she could feel the echo of his chuckle and the steady beating of his heart. Her arms now encircle his waist. There seems to be too much space between them tonight though their bodies were cramped together on such a tiny bed. No close is close enough for the two right now.

“I hope you know I didn’t mean that.” She whispers to his shirt “There could be no one but you.”

“I know,” George says, planting a kiss to the crown of her head “I know, Sweetheart, I know.”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley fluff #george weasley oneshot #george weasley drabble #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x yn

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justmystyles · 9 months

Note

hi! your angst is so so good! could you please write something angsty around the Selena Gomez song “Lose You to Love Me” kind of about a girl learning to love herself after a toxic love with Harry and then them reuniting after growing up years later, please?

Lose You to Love Me

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: a run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings.

a/n: my friend, you have no idea what you've done sending this ask in. technically you do, because I posted about it after i received it. but this song popped into my head a little over a week ago, and has been running up there on repeat. it's been making me think about my life and relationships, and being all reflective or whatever. i hate it. 😂

I have been thinking about this story pretty much non-stop since you sent the ask, and was so exited to finally get it written. i hope it's what you were looking for, and that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

also, a note about the story, the italicized parts are flashbacks.

i know we’re on all on edge after last night, so why not throw some angst in there to make it worse!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

As you moved through the streets of London, you were so focused on making it to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to the faces passing you by.

But he was, and he recognized yours immediately.

“Y/N?”

You froze in place, causing the person walking behind you to crash into you. You apologized and stepped off to the side, looking in the direction of the voice. “Harry,” you breathed out.

Before you could fully process what was happening, Harry had rushed up to you, pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes, even after all this time he still gave the best hugs. Your mind flashed with memories of all the times you found yourself in his arms. Good and bad.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” He spoke against your neck before pulling back, taking your hands in his as he looked you up and down. “You look amazing. All grown up.”

“Yeah, you too.” You took him in, he had definitely filled out since the last time you saw him. Of course you knew that, no matter how hard you tried to get away from him, you never could get that clean break you so desired. That’s what happens when your ex is one of the biggest stars in the world.

“Gosh, it’s been ages.” He muses.

You purse your lips and nod. “Eleven years.” You feel a knot in your stomach, thinking back to the last time you two spoke.

“Harry, it’s just not fair to me.” You move the speaker away from your mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear your breath hitch.

“And you think you’re being fair to me? This is my dream, Y/N, and I can’t even enjoy it because I’ve got you making me feel bad, or like I’m doing something wrong every time I talk to you!”

“Yeah, well you were my dream.” Your voice is quiet, defeated. “But I guess it’s time for me to wake up.”

Harry is silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. “What,” he lets out a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wipe your eyes, sniffling softly. “It means I can’t do this anymore. You’re living your life, you’re finding your way in the world. I need to go off and do the same. Alone.”

Harry gives you a sad smile. “I tried to reach out a few times, I didn’t like how we left things.”

“I know, me either.” You agreed. “But I needed to just sever the tie. It would have been too hard otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him curiously. “For how I handled things, for how it ended…”

You held your hand up to stop him. “We were just kids, you were eighteen and an international pop star, you handled things as best you could.”

He smiled gratefully at you. “Do you, uh… do you have some time? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”

Your mind is begging you to say no, but your mouth doesn’t listen, agreeing immediately. “But I’ll pass on the coffee.’

“Still?” He smirks, remembering how much you hated coffee. “Some things never change.”

****

The two of you order drinks, and get settled at a quiet corner table in a small coffee shop, the conversation starts off simple enough, you catch each other up on your families, you tell him about your career, and how you had relocated to London three years ago for a big promotion. He shares a couple of stories of some of his more memorable moments over the years.

Even after a decade apart, you still managed to fall into conversation with ease. From the moment you had met when you were kids, there was this instant comfort between the two of you. It was no surprise to anyone when you started dating at fifteen. You were inseparable, going everywhere together. You were there at his XFactor audition, you supported him every step of the way. It was when things really started taking off for him that everything changed.

“Hi angel,” Harry’s voice was low and raspy, that’s when you realized you forgot to take the time change into consideration before you called.

“Oh my gosh H, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I–”

You’re cut off by his laughter. “It’s alright, I like when you wake me up. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mum is taking me dress shopping for formal today, I just wanted to see if you had any ideas what you’d be wearing. We could coordinate!” There was a long silence as you waited for him to respond. “Harry?” You asked. Maybe he had fallen back to sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. “I have some bad news actually.” He sighed before continuing. “They booked us a bunch of shows in the US, I’m not going to be able to come home for the dance.”

“Oh,” you did your best to mask the disappointment. It was just a dance, Harry was doing amazing things, and you needed to be supportive of that.

“Angel, I’m so sorry, I really tried…”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.” You assured him while also trying to assure yourself.

You heard a knocking on the other side of the phone, and muffled voices. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go Y/N. I’m so sorry, I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know H. I love you too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon. I promise.” The call disconnects before you can respond.

That was the beginning of the end for your young love. You had put on a happy face for everyone, especially Harry, but your family and friends were able to see right through it. He probably would have too had he actually been there.

You ended up going to your formal with your friends, but as they danced and laughed, you sat on the sidelines, staring at your phone waiting for a call or a text from Harry. And that’s what your life became from there on.

When Harry would come home, things would be better, but still not what it was. Because he’d be gone for such long stretches, his time was spread so thin when he was home. He would want to spend time with everyone, which didn’t leave enough time for the two of you. You would tag along as much as you could, but your one on one time was lacking. It got to a point where you couldn’t even go out on dates, constantly being bombarded by people asking for pictures or autographs.

That’s when you decided to spend your time behind closed doors. Harry said it was so he could focus on you, but part of you wondered if it was so that he could keep you secret. You knew that there were girls all over the world that wanted to be with him, his team knew that was part of the marketability of him, of the whole group. The second the two of you stopped hanging out publicly, the insecurities started creeping in. From then on, every time you saw a picture of him with another girl, you wondered who she was, why it was okay for him to be seen with her and not you.

As the two of you continued to talk, you glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit,” you interrupt him. “I’m so sorry Harry, I actually have to go. I have a meeting I need to get to.” You stand from your seat and collect your things. Harry stands with you.

“Yeah, of course.” You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Hey, you should come to the show tonight. If you’re free I mean.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s Wembley. How many times did we talk about this?”

“A lot,” you smile wistfully, remembering those conversations. Whenever he was feeling discouraged about his journey, you would always be right there to pick him up, assuring him it was going to work out. That he’d be onstage at the famed stadium, and you’d be right there cheering him on.

“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Full circle and all that.” He said with a smile. “Besides, the whole family is going to be there. I’m sure mum and Gem would love to see you.”

It would be nice to see his family again. You had been all but officially adopted into the clan, spending holidays, dinners, birthdays with them. You were at Harry’s house just as much as you were at your own, possibly more. Sure, you had mourned the loss of your relationship with Harry, but it also broke you that you lost that second family.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You agree.

“Amazing.” He pulled you in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you tonight. Just check in at the box office when you get there, I’ll take care of everything.”

****

You made it to your meeting on time, but you were anything but present. Your mind kept going back to Harry, how great he looked, how happy he was to see you. And then the memories started flooding back.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice and gentle knock on the door call your attention away from your phone.

“Yeah?”

She sticks her head into your room. “We’re leaving in five minutes, are you ready?”

“Ready?” You suddenly remember that your parents were supposed to be taking you and your sister out to dinner. “Oh, I uh… no. I think I’m going to pass if that’s okay?”

“But honey, we’re going to your favorite restaurant.” You could see the concern spread across her face.

“I know, but Harry is supposed to call and check in. We haven’t had a proper phone date in weeks. I want to make sure I don’t miss him.”

“Y/N…” your mother says in a warning tone. After Harry missed out on formal, you had completely changed. You’d go to school, and then immediately come home waiting to hear from him. You would drop everything the second his name popped up on your phone screen.

“Mum, next time. I promise.”

Your mother lets out a sigh and nods, leaving you alone.

About an hour later, your phone pinged with a text from Harry.

Sorry love, can’t call tonight. Talk to you soon, promise. XO

****

After your meeting, you slipped out of the office. You knew you weren’t going to get anything done today. Besides, you needed to find something to wear tonight. You called Heather, your oldest and closest friends, asking her to meet you at one of your favorite shops.

You told her about your run-in with Harry, and his invitation to go to his show.

“You said no, right?”

“Yeah, I said no. That’s why we’re here, you’re helping me pick an outfit for a concert I’m not going to.” you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N, I say this as your friend, this is a terrible idea and you definitely shouldn’t go.” She says completely seriously. “Do you even remember what life was like for you back then?”

“Come on!” Heather grabbed your arm, trying to pull you out of the booth. “Come dance with us!”

You pull out of her grip, checking your phone for a notification. “I can’t H-”

“Harry’s going to call,” she finishes your sentence. “Y/N, you’re both my friends, but you’re my best friend, so I’m going to be real with you. Harry’s a wakner.”

“Hey,” you reply defensively. “He is not, he’s just really busy. He’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“I do know. And I also know that while you’re sitting here staring at your phone, you’re missing out on life. But he’s out there living it. You deserve better than that.”

“Right, and in a couple of months I’ll be living that life with him.”

Heather’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to university.” You state plainly, her eyes go wide in shock. “Harry is going to get me a job on his team. It won’t be glamorous, and it probably won’t pay much, but we’ll be together and everything will be good again.”

“Have you told your parents about this plan?”

“I have, they aren’t happy about it, but I’m eighteen, so there isn’t really anything they can do about it.”

“And you really think this is the best idea?” She asks you.

“Yes,” you say, a little louder than intended but you needed to get your point across. “Harry and I are supposed to be together, and if this is how it needs to happen, this is how it’s going to happen.” You grab your purse and stand from your seat. “I’m going home, it’s too loud here for me to hear him anyway.”

After that, you stopped going out when your friends invited you. They didn’t understand your relationship, and they were always on your case about it. It was easier to just stay home and wait for Harry. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. You were fine with that. It made it easier for you to focus on Harry, and be there when he had time for you.

As far as the job, that never happened. About a week after you graduated, you received a call from Harry. He told you that he fought for you, all the guys did, but his team said they weren’t able to make a spot for you.

You were devastated, but you did your best to hide it from him. That didn’t last very long, however, as that was the point where the cracks in your facade of ‘supportive girlfriend’ started coming through. You started seeing what everyone had been telling you, that Harry was out there conquering the world while you were putting your life on hold, spending your life by the phone waiting for a quick text or five minute phone call.

****

When you arrived at Wembley, you gave your name at the window and were immediately ushered to a backstage VIP area. You walked in and smiled to yourself at the turnout. You recognized almost everyone in the room. You stayed by the door, not wanting to interrupt when Gemma’s eyes traveled in your direction, She did a double take before smiling wide and running to you.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it!” She pulled you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned. “Harry told us he ran into you, and invited you to the show. But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come!”

You giggled at her excitement. “Of course I’m here, I told him I’d come.”

“I know, but you’re so nice, I figured you’d say that to his face and then just disappear.” You both laughed, before she took you by the hand, leading you into the group. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on!”

You went around the room, greeting those you had known a decade ago, and meeting the new members of Harry’s entourage. Everyone was so happy to see you, you were being pulled in a million different directions trying to catch up with everyone. They had told you that Harry was with them earlier, but had to leave to get ready. You were grateful for that. It would have been too much to be there with him, and his family.

**** When it was time to go out to the front of house, Gemma locked her arm in yours and you walked together. She stayed by your side the whole night. The two of you were always close, she had always treated you like you were sisters. Often joking that someday Harry would make it official. She made you promise not to leave without giving her your number, she said she wasn’t about to let another ten years go by without seeing you again.

The show was incredible. Harry was incredible. As you watched him up there, you felt your chest swell with pride. Despite what had transpired between the two of you, you couldn’t help but get emotional watching him live the dream that the two of you had spent so much time talking about. He had done it, but on a level that neither of you could have even imagined.

As you listened on, your mind wandered, thinking about the girls those songs were about. The girls that had come after you. You felt tears begin to pool in your eyes as you remembered the first one.

“Come on guys, put it away. Y/N is going to be here any minute.” You heard Heather plead. “This is her first time out since the breakup, she doesn’t need to see it.”

After the phone call where you ended your relationship, you were inconsolable. You cried nonstop, mourning your relationship, the future you were supposed to have, and all the time you wasted waiting for him. Your friends would come over often, but they would mostly just hold you and offer words of encouragement to you as you cried. Nobody was able to get through to you, they weren’t even sure how.

About two months after the breakup, you got this surge of determination. Harry had taken away enough of your life, you weren’t going to let him do it anymore. You texted Heather, and she agreed to gather all your friends for dinner.

You walked in and saw her trying to pull the phone out of her boyfriend’s hands. “What don’t I need to see?” You ask, everyone’s attention snapping to you.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Heather assured you.

You nodded, leaning in to hug your friend, quickly diverting and grabbing the phone out of her hand. You looked down at the screen and saw a paparazzi shot of Harry walking hand in hand with Taylor Swift, it was an article about the budding relationship between the two singers.

“Oh,” you said, dropping the phone on the table. “I uh… I just remembered I’ve got to…” your brain was too cloudy to come up with an excuse, not that they would believe it anyway. You turned and rushed out of the restaurant. Heather hot on your heels.

“Y/N, wait!” She followed you as you ducked into a nearby alleyway, getting to you just in time to watch your back slide down the wall.

You wrapped your arms around your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. Heather sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her.

“I… he… I…” You couldn’t form words, too upset to do anything but cry.

“I know babe, I know.” Heather said in a soft tone, rubbing your back comfortably. “I told you he was a wanker.”

You chuckled lightly, your breathing starting to return to normal. You looked up at your friend with tear stained cheeks, your breath hitching as you regained composure. “We just broke up. I’ve been locked in my room crying, and he’s been with her.”

“He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re so much better than all of this.” She held your face in her hands and gave you a determined look. “You’re a fucking catch Y/N, he’s an idiot for not seeing that.” You nod, pretending you agree with her. “Let’s get you home. We’ll get a bunch of junk food and watch sad movies. Get all the tears out.”

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” Gemma pulls you from your thoughts.

You suddenly realize the house lights are up, and people are filing out of the stadium. “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s just crazy to think that he went from the weird boy with the dumb jokes to that,” you gesture toward the stage.

“Oh, he’s still the weird boy, he’s just telling his dumb jokes to a whole lot more people.” She joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go backstage.”

“Oh, no no no, you go. I should…”

“Not a chance,” she interrupted you. “You’ve gotta come back and see him.” You narrow your eyes at her, wondering why it was so important that you see him, but she just smiles innocently and leads you back to the VIP room.

****

You and Gemma get comfortable on a couch in the back corner of the room, so lost in conversation that you don’t even notice when all eyes in the room land on the door, cheering Harry as he enters. He walks through, offering hugs and handshakes, thanking people for coming and graciously receiving compliments on his performance.

Once he’s made his way to the back, he stops, silently observing you and his sister gossiping and giggling just like you always had.

“You’d better not be talking about me, or I’m telling mum.” His voice pulls you from your conversation, and you both turn to look at him.

Gemma grins and jumps from her seat. “You were outstanding.” She pulled him into a hug, saying something to him in a hushed tone.

He smiled gratefully at her as she sat back down, Harry turned to you with a curious expression. “Well? What did you think?”

“H,” his nickname fell so easily from your lips, as if you had never been apart. You stood up, looking at him with so much awe that he was taken aback. “You did it. I’m so,” you sigh with a shrug. “It was incredible.”

He smiled, dimples on full display. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what that means to me.” He steps in front of you, pulling you into a firm embrace. You were so lost in the moment that it didn’t even register that he had called you by his pet name for you.

Gemma stood behind you, making sure to get Harry’s attention, she winked at him with a smirk before matriculating back into the crowd, allowing you two a moment.

When you finally separated, Harry looked down at you, his gaze so intense that you felt your cheeks heating up. “I should probably go,” you finally speak up.

“No, wait.” He says in a panicked tone. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

You furrow your brow, not expecting that. He’s in a room full of the most important people in his life, and he wants to be alone with you? “Yeah, sure.”

He leads you out of the VIP area and down the hall to his dressing room. He opens the door, signaling for you to enter. He follows behind you, closing the door once you both cross the threshold.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before Harry finally breaks the silence. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Me too, thank you for inviting me.” You smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I, uh…” he takes a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I miss you.”

You look up at him in confusion. “Harry, it’s been eleven years.”

“And I’ve missed you the entire time.” He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “I was so stupid back then, so stupid. I know I wasn’t fair to you.”

“I told you, it’s fine, you were a kid. You did the best you could.” You assured him.

“I think running into you today was fate.” He ignores your words and keeps going. “We’ve both grown up, I’ve grown up. I see what’s important in life now.”

“Harry…”

“There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many things that happened that I wanted to celebrate with you, but I couldn’t. Every sold out show, every award, all of it, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”

You were speechless. You were listening to his words, watching the vulnerability in his face, all of it completely overwhelming you. Out of everything that could have come from your run in with Harry, this was probably the last thing you would have expected.

“I don’t… what?” Was all you managed to choke out.

“Listen, I’m not saying we jump right back in and pick up where we left off,” your eyes went wide at his words. “I broke your trust, that’s something I need to earn back. But I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“Try…”

He reached out, taking your hand and sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “I want to show you that I can be what you need, what you deserve.”

“What are you asking?” You ask, searching his face as if it held the answers.

“I just want to be in your life again, be your friend. I want to get to know you now, I want you to get to know me now, and see where things go from there.”

You stood in silence, looking into Harry’s eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he’s looking at you. You nod your head slowly. “Okay,” you respond, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully, you nod with a smile and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Thank you thank you thank you. I promise I’m not going to mess this up.” You chuckle against his chest. “What’s so funny?”

“Heather is going to kill me.”

A bark of laughter escapes him. “I’ll protect you,” he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

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