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senor-plume · 7 months

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Reunion

Henry throws on his favorite shirt, a tie dye that he got at an Arlo Guthrie concert some years back. Pulling the shirt over his head he eye’s the bottle of ale that sits on the kitchen table. Reaching out with his left hand he grabs the bottle and takes a long pull from it. Friday night and not a thing going on. Luckily. With the drink in his hand he walks over the living room window and takes a peak at the great outdoors. Folks arriving for a CYO event at the school across the street. Looks like a basketball game as he spies on the young girls showing up in their cheerleader outfits. Some adults walking in and a young man about 20 has his head stuck into his cell phone, texting as he moves straight ahead. Henry closes the curtain tight and walks away quite glad that he is not playing a game of basketball tonight. As much as he complains about the loneliness of his life, he has adapted to it and some nights, such as tonight, he is glad for his solitude lifestyle.

The television is on but thankfully muted while the record player spins the vinyl album around at 33 and a third. A collector of sorts, he stops and stares at his records. A massive amount that must be well into the thousands. His father started him out young to the pleasures of music and he never looked back. His dad left him his old records from the 40’s to the 70’s when he passed away. Alphabetized, he goes down to one knee to look through the Z’s. Pulling out Frank Zappa’s first album he takes the record from its sleeve and stares at the grooves that the needle reads. Henry can, and will spend hours now gazing at his collection with pride bursting up through his soul. Nothing can or will make him as happy as rummaging through these records and trips to the Salvation Army for more is a true joy in his life.

Stopping only to gather up a plate of nacho’s and a few beers, Henry has just spent the complete Friday night alone with his records. He plans to leave the house tomorrow morning for a trip to the local hotel where a huge record sale will be going down. Once a month there is a gathering of all types of people selling off their albums and other music related items. Henry looks forward to this with unbridled glee. He takes to the computer and after seeing there was not one email waiting for him he begins to compile a list of albums that he must have and hopefully he will be able to find them there. Some records he just never stops looking for. Years and years he has waited for somebody to sell them off. A Beatles record nicknamed the Butcher Album due to the cover showing the Fab Four dressed as butchers covered in raw meat and doll parts. A true and rare collector’s item. He saw one once when he was visiting his sister in California. He had it in his hands and as he always does, he smelled the inside of the cover. There really is nothing finer than the scent of an old record Henry believed. The asking price for the album was a hefty 1000 bucks which he did not have at the time. He has saved up for the day it would appear to him again. He would not miss out on it again.

With the need to take a piss Henry, drunk now, as he always is on the weekends, he stumbles to the bathroom. Holding his cock he lets out a long sigh and out of the blue the telephone rings. He usually unplugs the fucking thing on the weekends but he must have forgotten. Shaking his dick he hears the answering machine pick up. It is a woman’s voice and it is unfamiliar. Without washing his hands, Henry walks to the bedroom to hear the voice say goodbye and then the tape rewinds. Who the fuck could that be? Henry presses play and he listens in carefully.

“I’m looking for Henry Coda. If this is the wrong number I apologize but I really want to find him. This is Anna Baez. I went to school with Henry back in the 80’s and I would like to invite him to our schools 25th anniversary. It’s this upcoming weekend…seven days from now and it will be a ball. So Henry, please if you could join us at the school at 7 in the gymnasium… I would be thrilled to see you again. We all would. It will be a blast. I hope this is the right number. Call me at 722-5733 to let me know if you can come. Thanks and goodbye.”

Christ. Anna Baez. Henry takes a long drink from the bottle…killing it and he heads to the bookshelf to pull out his senior yearbook. The cover says Binghamton Central High School. It has been years since he has looked at this thing. He takes a seat on his bed and opens the book. He flips through the pages with a bored look on his face until he comes to the page he wants. Under his nose is a picture of Anna. A blonde beauty who was quite popular in school. Unlike Henry she excelled in school, running for class president and winning. A cheerleader and if he remembered correctly, she was crowned prom queen…a prom in which Henry did not attend. His book was signed a few times and he reads a few.

“Have a great summer Henry…see you at the college.”

“Henry, keep playing that guitar and I am certain you’ll be top of the pops in no time.”

“You are one weird fella man. Don’t change.”

Henry never ended up going to the local community college and he never made it to the top of the charts. He was still weird and he has barely changed since the 80’s. He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. He remained on the bed thinking of school. How he hated it and most of the kids there…except for one girl…Nancy...or Nan for short. Nan, he had the biggest teenage crush on. She was always friendly with him but she was dating the same guy from their freshman year right up to the senior year. They were friends...she was kind to him and although her boyfriend hated him she didn’t care. She was nice. Rising from the bed he began to think about her. Nan, I wonder if you are even still alive and if you are I bet you have fourteen kids and a beefcake husband. He wandered out of his room and made it to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer. Cracking it open he heard the needle hit the label on the record he was playing and he knew it was time to flip it over.

Playing the Stones now he could not get his mind off of that girl. Nan. Henry hardly left his house for any kind of social event. Skipping family reunions and the like. But this...this could be...interesting. He wanted to see Nan and that was the only thing that made him pick up the phone to call Anna back.

She answered right away and sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. She told him that he was all set. That it was to be a casual party and that he could bring a friend or spouse if he wanted to. Henry asked how many people have signed up to go and she told him that it will be a packed event.

“Expect at least a hundred kids to be there. It will be lots of fun. And Henry, feel free to bring some of those records of yours with you. I bet we would all like to hear them.”

After saying goodbye and hanging up Henry crawled into bed and found himself...drunk and daydreaming about Nan and just what he could say to her. It made him nervous just thinking about it and soon he blocked it out and fell asleep with the full bottle of beer next to his head.

---------------------------------------

After about four beers Henry was ready to leave for the reunion. Dressed in khakis and a seersucker shirt he bent down to tie his shoes when he felt the urge to throw up come over him. He ran to the kitchen sink and made it just in time. Four beers down the drain, all sudsy and wiping tears from his eyes he went to swig some mouthwash around in the bathroom.

Outside now Henry tucked the cuffs of his pants into his socks and jumped onto his bicycle. The school was only a few blocks away and it was a pleasant night. He had no intention of trying to impress anyone there. His bike was fine and he enjoyed riding it more than driving anyway.

Along the way there his nerves grew worse and he checked the time on the side of the bank on the corners. 7:15. He was late and he did not care. He toyed with the idea of not showing...no one would miss him anyway but Nan…he was dying to see what became of her. He stopped his bike in front of the tavern Rocco’s and parking his bike on the side of the building. He went in.

“Henry! Long time no see my friend. How goes it?”

Rocco extended his hand and Henry shook it with a weak smile on his face.

“Get me a cold on please Rocco. Lord knows I need one tonight”

“What’s the big occasion? You got a hot date tonight? If you do, bring her here. I’d love to see the kind of girl you could pick up Henry.”

The bartender, a black guy with muscles that would put Schwarzenegger to shame cracked the top off the bottle of Bud and handed it to Henry. He took hold of it and brought it to his mouth and drained half of it in a mere two seconds. His eyes darted around but he found himself slowly calming down. The television above the bar was on showing some soccer match and the jukebox was playing the old Turtles tune.. .’Happy Together.’

“Henry, it’s been a while, a few days now perhaps since you last walked into my establishment. What’s been happening to you? You depressed? A fire destroy your record collection or something?”

“No. Just been busy is all. Listen Rocco, I need your advice here. I’m now headed to my 25th reunion at school and I am rather nervous about it all. There is a girl there...or a woman now and I really want to talk to her but I am a social dud. I have no idea what to say to her. What’s a good ice breaker? Something that won’t

make me look like a total dick head. Just a little dick head.”

Rocco smiled and said “ Ah Henry, you seeing an old flame tonight? Some girl who used to give you hand jobs in the basement? Something like that eh?”

“No...not at all. Just a girl who I was friendly with. Though I have to admit that I dreamed of her and those hands giving me some pleasure. I don’t know. I can’t think of what to say to her when I see her. I need your help here.”

Rocco pulled up a stool and thought for a while. “What did you guys used to talk about in school? Back then. What did you talk about?”

Henry thought for a while and he said ‘music.’

“Ok, then you talk about that. Just say that you heard an old song on the radio and that it made you think of her. She’ll be pleased to hear this…hopefully and there you go. You’ll be off to the races.”

“But I never listen to the radio...all those commercials and that terrible hip hop music they play now a days...It gives me a head…”

“ Then, forget the radio part..just say you heard a song…somewhere… and it made you think of her. Just wing it from there. She’ll want to know what song and then you’ll be in a real conversation and I bet it will be the first one with a woman for quite some time. Am I right?”

Henry sighed and took a drink from the bottle.

“Yeah, music, that’s kinda what I had planned on anyway.”

“That’s all you ever talk about actually Henry. This is the first conversation we’ve had that wasn’t about music or music related. You must really be nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. What time is it Rocco?”

“7:30.”

“Shit, I gotta go. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it man.”

Rocco wished him good luck and said that if he gets lucky with the girl to bring her over to the bar so he could see what all this nervousness was all about. Henry killed his beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar with a determined thud. He stood and with a wave left the bar and found his bike waiting for him. He climbed aboard and began his trek to the school.

-------------------------------------------------

Inside the gymnasium it was sweltering. He was informed at the front desk, where old Anna Baez was sitting that the air conditioners were on the fritz and to expect it to be a little warm in there. Warm? It was horrible. Henry went immediately to the bar and ordered a beer. A nice cold beer would really hit the spot and maybe calm his nerves a bit.

Drinking, he looked down to his name tag. Henry. Who the hell is going to remember me anyway? This is a mistake. He had maybe three friends in high school and they all went to universities and left him in his hometown alone and friendless. Sure, he knew some of the guys and gals at the record conventions but he wouldn’t be able to really cal them friends. He was a lonely guy who simply loved his records and beer. He looked up and watched all the people milling around and some dancing. A few guys whom he recognized as old jocks were standing at the bar, drinking and laughing, without a care in the world. Henry felt the sweat dripping down his back and he flapped his shirt a few times to get some air in there. His ears pricked up when he heard a Duran Duran song playing and he was just about to head over to the DJ booth to talk to the guy about his CD’s when he saw Nan walk in. The light from the gym was weak at best but he knew it was her although he could not read her name tag. My goodness…there she is he thought to himself. I’ll just wait for a while to let her mingle with the people that she really wanted to see and then, then he would walk up to her and reintroduce himself to her.

Henry wiped his brow with the back of his hand and struck up a conversation with the DJ. They shot the shit for a few minutes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Nan smiling ear to ear.

“Henry Coda...my God…you look exactly the same. You really do. My goodness...how are you?”

Henry’s shirt was sopped with sweat as he opened his mouth to return her greeting when a group of guys walked up to Nan and began to talk excitedly to her. Henry shrunk back to the DJ booth and just stood there watching them enjoying themselves. I wish I was normal he thought to himself. I wish I could talk and feel carefree with others. Instead I am a sweating fool all alone with a paid employee of this fiasco. He took a swig from his plastic cup and turned around to stare at the wall.

A few minutes passed while a Van Halen song played. Henry began to recall the time he had bought the album which this song came from when he heard a woman’s voice say something. He turned around to see Nan staring at him.

“Hello...anyone home? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a minute now silly. Daydreaming about music I bet. This Van Halen song sure brings back the memories don’t you think?”

“I was just playing this song a few days ago actually. All in all it’s a great album with very little filler. Sure, a few of the songs aren’t all that great on it but not many records from that period were masterpieces. You know what I mean?”

Nan smiled at him and told him that he has not changed all that much from 25 years ago. Henry smiled and tried hard to think of something to say to her. He decided to ask her about her life now but she spoke first.

“So tell me Henry...tell me about your life. Are you married? Is your rock and roll wife around here somewhere?”

“Wife? Ha, no...no wife. Never. Never was married. You?”

“Well, remember Davey? My boyfriend in school? We married after college and 10 months later we were divorced. Still to this day I have no idea what went wrong but that band of gold on my finger just cursed us. It was something else, I’ll tell you, I won’t be walking down the aisle again, you can count on that.”

Henry looked down at her finger and even in the bad light he could see that she was ring less.

“Gee, I’m sorry about that Nan. Geeze…will he be here tonight? Davey?”

“No, he moved to Washington State after our divorce was finalized. I haven’t seen him in years now. No kids...thank God.”

“Oh...well that’s good I guess...divorce can really be hard on kids; at least that’s what I’ve read in magazines and all. So…you live around here?”

Nan answered his questions and boy was there a lot of them. Henry at times felt like he was interviewing the poor girl but he really had nothing else to say to her so he asked questions. Query after query but she didn’t seem to mind at all. They talked for a while when he realized he was in dire need of a drink. He tried to back step a bit to get closer to the bar hoping that she would follow him...slowly but two steps back into his plan she stood right there, not moving an inch. He would have to ask her if she would like a refill on her wine...or what appeared to be wine. Maybe it was punch. It was red and that was all he could tell. In a break in the conversation he asked her if she would like a refill and that he could really go for a cold beer in this stifling heat.

“I know! It’s so hot in here...I can’t stand it. Want to go outside for a bit? I could use some fresh air and besides...and don’t tell anyone but I am dying for a cigarette.”

“Outside? Certainly. I’d like that. I’m beginning to melt in here. Please just let me refill my beer here. Can you wait?”

She nodded her head and Henry went to get a beer. Turning to Nan he asked her if she was good. She replied that another cup of wine would be great and she handed him her now empty cup.

“..and a wine please Jerry.”

The bartender filled up the two glasses and they headed outside. On the way to the front doors Nan was greeted with many hellos. Henry couldn’t remember her being so popular in school. It was mighty crowded and Nan grabbed his arm and pulled him along and he was happy to be lead away out of there.

Outside the cool air was a Godsend. They both needed the cool night air on their hot skin.

“Now this is much better, don’t you think Henry? So, tell me now…back in school you loved music more than anyone I’ve

ever known. You ever made a career of it? You in a band or anything?”

He felt like he was letting her down as he went on to say that not only was he not in a band but that as a career he chose media marketing.

“What exactly is that Henry?”

“You know those jingles you hear on the radio? I write them. I make commercials for the radio and television.”

“Oh my, how interesting...anything I would know?”

“You know Champs Fried Chicken? The chain of chicken places? Well that one ad..the one that goes

‘Champs...is the place to be

when your down and hungry,

a dollar 99 is all you got?

you’ll dig our chicken, you’ll dig it a lot.’

I wrote that.”

“Holy shit Henry, I know that song! It’s the catchiest tune like ever! Wow...I’m with a celebrity here!”

“Ha…well...it pays the bills. It’s not going to get me a gold record but I suppose I can’t complain.”

“Well, I think it’s awesome...simply awesome Henry. I’m not as famous as you but I guess my job is ok...I sell real estate in North Carolina. I’m not rich or anything but like you, I can pay the bills.”

Henry found himself relaxing a bit. The cool night air did him well and he found that he could keep up his end of the conversation. He went in a few time to refill their drinks. He was feeling alright by the time of his 9th beer of the night and Nan was really knocking the wine back. They talked about many things and a few people even recognized him as they made their way out of the gym to return home.

Around the time of Nan’s fifth cup of wine she realized that the party inside was dying down.

“I should really go back inside and mingle a bit more. You wanna come along with me? There has to be other people you want to see besides me.”

“Not really Nan...in fact the only reason why I came to this high school heat wave was to see you. You were always so nice to me...don’t think I’ve forgotten it these many years later.”

”Oh Henry, that’s so nice of you to say. Shoot...I should go back though. You sure you don’t want to come with me? I’ll buy you another drink.”

Henry thought about it and decided not to go in.

“I’m sorry Nan but it’s really too hot for me in there. I’m going to head to Rocco’s for a nice air conditioned beer.”

“Sounds splendid. Ok…I understand.

“It was nice to see you again Nan...really. Take care now.”

“I will. Thanks for visiting with me. I had a ball. Enjoy Rocco’s”

And with that they hugged each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

Around 1AM Rocco was placing the chairs up on the table when there was a knock at his front door. He checked the time on his wrist and went to tell them he was closed. Through the door he saw a woman standing there.

“I’m sorry Ma’am but I’m closed now. I open at 9 if you still need a drink in the morning.”

The girl was swaying a bit but managed to steady herself.

“Is Henry there? Henry Coda? I’m a friend of his.”

Rocco opened the door and told her that she just missed him.

“He left about 10 minutes ago. You don’t happen to be Nan are you?”

“Yes..why?”

“Oh boy was he going on and on about you. You made quite the impression on him tonight. He usually only talks about music but not tonight. It was Nan this and Nan that. Sorry you missed him.”

“Yeah, me too. Please tell him I stopped by ok?”

“I will. Goodnight.”

And with that she turned away and headed back to her taxi.

#alt lit #lit #short story

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loneindigo · 1 year

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The Man in Blue Cashmere

He took me out for ice cream on our “first date.” When I first saw him, he reminded me of a daddy long legs with lengthy spindly legs, knees bent, stooped against a fire hydrant. He was extremely attractive, and asked me to walk with him to his car parked a bit further away from my dorm. I asked if we could walk quicker, as he was a 6’8” WASP-ish silver-haired giant and a father to two daughters 14 and 16, and I was a college freshman who did not want to be seen with a 56 year old man near my dorm no matter how husband.

He had to stoop to enter the doorway of the Ben and Jerry’s on Newberry street. That’s what I liked about him, that we would attract the strangest stares, wondering why a 6’8” private equity managing partner was walking side by side with a self-assured Asian teen with an MIT shirt and leggings on. He would bend down to hear my voice, even though I thought I was projecting. I sat in the passenger seat of his blue Honda van and listened to rock music while I teased with the Rocky Road melting slightly on the spoon. I remembered David Bowie had recently passed away, and brought him up as a 70’s singer I liked so we could have something to talk about. He seemed glad to break the silence, and talked about how he had seen Bowie perform live in a bar in New York. We ran through a list of more singers, The Beatles, David Cassidy, and other performers I cannot remember afterwards.

His fingers scrolled through a list on his phone of restaurants nearby. I realized that I could not eat dinner with this man and give him the best performance of my life on a full stomach, so I turned my head away and counted to three in my head. 1… 2… 3... “I think there are a couple of hotels nearby?” He stopped scrolling and understood immediately. I felt regretful that I could not give him the chance to be the gentleman that he so apparently was. “Yeah…” We proceeded to look clumsily and busily at our phones, searching for hotels available for a one night stay as I grinned like an idiot, or one of those boys who catch big fish on their boats and smile for a picture. He was my big catch in Boston.

The hotel room was warmly lit with a bronze headboard, copper faucets, a black toilet, curtains that opened up to the Charles river, and a leather Eames chair next to the bed that I sat in while I waited for him to freshen up in the bathroom. When he walked out, I did my best to look oblivious, delicately pointing my toes resting on the ottoman while looking up at him. The rosy cheeked thin haired man had the look of an ibis flying low to pluck its unsuspecting prey out of the water, when he bent both of his titan legs down to press his lips on mine and allowed me to suck on his tongue and taste the clean pink insides of his mouth.

Later on, I would remember his bare thighs and how his straining tendons flexed through his cream colored pale skin.

#smut #boston #daddy issues

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siriusblackmakesmesoft · 3 years

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Soft

Sirius Black X Ravenclaw!Reader

Warnings: Very fluffy, use of she/her pronouns, a few physical descriptions of height and hair, reader being a childhood friend of Sirius and Regulus, use of the nickname bunny, sad Sirius :(

Word Count: 2592

enjoy :)

Sirius was having a bad day.

Usually he was able to move through them with little friction, a little extra quidditch practice, a little harsher joke at Peter's expense. Nothing too bad, just getting it out in little ways all day long, and by the end of the day he felt better. But today started bad. He had a nightmare, and if you asked him he would say that it was less of a nightmare and more of a flashback. He woke up sweaty and sticky and crying. Gasping for air, hands waving frantically towards his sheets and his heart trying to find proof of it being over. The sun wasn't up yet, and even though his brain told him to wake someone up, he just took a cold shower. Put on his favorite sweater and went to the gryffindor common room. The red chair next to the fireplace was calling his name.

On top of not sleeping well, he got a letter dropped in his tea this morning. He knew from the nameless front of the envelope that it was from his mother. The green ink inside only furthered his bad mood. Remus' look of sympathy was met with a tight lipped semblance of a smile, and when James pat him on the back he felt the urge to hurl. Pity is really the last thing Sirius wanted, ever, but right now he couldn't stand it. Mumbling some excuse to leave, he went to the black lake. Alone and quiet, that's what he needed.

Of course, with his luck, it didn't last long. His mood hadn't improved in the half hour he was alone, and he was sure being by himself much longer wouldn't have helped either, but the presence of another person irked him. Looking up and seeing his brother lessened the annoyance, he was positive James venting about Lily would make everything worse.

"I see mummy dearest wrote to you as well?"

The scoff Sirius let out truly was unintentional. He had been trying to reconnect with Regulus, and while it wasn't his idea, he really was trying. Having someone who knew, lived the very same thing that made his day start so awfully, was refreshing. He didn't have to act like it wasn't so bad, especially on days where he needed someone to say that it was.

"Only called me a disgrace 4 times this time around, didn't even mention how I was a traitor."

This time it was Regulus responding, a soft hum of acknowledgement, and a deep sigh.

"I win then, she only said I was a disgrace once."

It got Sirius to chuckle, a deep chuckle that was laced with sadness. The silence that followed was comforting, no expectation for conversation was something Sirius rarely experienced, and he was glad it was happening with Regulus. Laying back so he was flat against the ground, Sirius heaved a large sigh, dramatically flopping his arm over his face. Regulus stretched, tapped his brother's knee three times, and stood up to leave.

"You should visit (Y/N) soon, she wasn't at breakfast."

Sirius' thoughts were flooded with the girl, instantly raising his bad mood. He ignored the part of him that got annoyed when Regulus spoke of her, as if they were close. While she had always been in the lives of the Black boys, she held a tighter grip on Sirius. And he knew, everyone knew. He relished in it.

Regulus started walking away in the middle of his thoughts, and over his shoulder yelled, "If you see her, tell her I say hello!"

The rest of Sirius' day went quite similarly to his morning. He failed a herbology quiz, got a detention in potions, made James upset when he spoke up about his obsession with Lily ("If she said never in a million years, prongs, that usually means she wants you to leave her alone!") and while he felt bad when James face dropped and Peter shook his head, Remus saved him by putting his hand on Sirius' shoulder and said quietly, "It's okay, he knows how your days been."

By the time dinner had come about, Sirius was ready to be eaten by the squid in the black lake. He stopped the facade of his typical self just after his talk with Regulus, and while he knew he should eat, he just pushed his food around his plate. He tried listening to Peter's story, and the summary of the most recently finished book Remus was telling, but his eyes were blank, and so was his head.

He left dinner without a word, going to walk through the halls until he felt good enough to sleep. His feet led him to the Ravenclaw tower door, getting nervous as he approached the eagle knocker. He let his breath out when the riddle was easy enough to solve (to be fair, (Y/N) had once said the eagle adjusted what riddle was used based on the immediate judging of the intelligence of the student, and while Sirius didn't think he was stupid, he appreciated a simple ego boost in the form of an easily solvable riddle.) and he walked in, dragging his feet to the stairs.

The Ravenclaw tower was structured differently than the Gryffindor, but the stairs to the girls dorm were the same. After muttering the simple charm to make sure the stairs didn't slide him straight back down, he walked down the hall to the head girls room, hoping she was there.

When his knock was met with silence he walked in anyways. Thinking maybe even her bed would help him in this moment. And while as desperate as it sounded, he knew she wouldn't mind. Opening the door he was met with the blissful sound of the shower, the light under the door and the light humming coming from the ensuite being the best thing his senses have experienced all day. Sirius walked slowly to the bathroom door, stopping to look at himself in the mirror on her dresser. He looked as tired as he felt, the remnants of a bad day hanging so obviously off of him. A crooked tie, messier than usual hair, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like the physical representation of a bad day.

When he got to the door of the bathroom he paused. This wasn't an unfamiliar routine, yet in this very moment he was anxious. Doubt flooded him. Scared of a rejection that wasn't going to approach him. Opening the door was relieving. Like a thousand pounds were suddenly lifted off his shoulders. Lavender and vanilla took over his senses, the warmth of the steam, the sounds of light music and water hitting tile. He was sure this is what heaven felt like.

"Sirius? Is that you?" He felt even lighter when she said his name. That soft tone, the one she only used for him. The same one she used every single time she spoke to him. It never failed to give him butterflies, even on the worst days. Somehow just her existing made his world a little brighter.

"Yes, 's me, bun." He couldn't find the energy to say much else, and the good part about her was that he didn't have to. The silence he left was welcomed, one she would gladly fill up with the melodies of Beatles songs he showed her.

"Reg said you were having a rough day, that I should expect you after a while." Her tone was questioning, leaving him the space to tell her as much as he needed. She always did that, let him take control in conversations about such things. He admired it truly, wanting to keep her in his pocket forever.

"Hasn't been the best day, no." Sirius took a seat on the counter, next to a few lit candles, and began fiddling with his fingers. Taking deep breaths, inhaling her scent that was stuck to the air all around him.

"D'you want to talk about it? 'Ve only got my hair left." He didn't want to talk about it, not really. He hummed as an answer, and she started singing as if she hadn't ever asked. The room lit up with the scent of her shampoo, a smell Sirius knew quite well. It was lavender, matched her conditioner, and lingered on the pillows he slept on in her bedroom. It was the kind of warm smell that encompassed you in a bubble of safety, and the feeling of home. Sirius began to think about all the times she ever made him feel like that. All the times she ever made him feel safe, content in being who he was. Because she loved who he was. And her own comfortability with that, with him, was enough to make him secure in it himself.

"'M gonna make you close your eyes now, no peeking." She giggled lightly under her breath as she turned the water off, moving the curtain to make sure his eyes were closed. He didn't say anything, and he really didn't peek. With his eyes closed his other senses got stronger. The smell of her shampoo mixing with that of her vanilla lotion, the sound of her brush running through her hair, the ever so quiet hum of the last song that had played. He felt his entire body calm down, being completely soothed by her entirety. All he could sense, all he could smell and hear, was her. And it grounded him.

"You can open your eyes now, Siri, 'm decent." He almost didn't want to. He suddenly felt very sleepy, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in her arms and sleep as long as she let him. Once he did open his eyes, his heart fluttered. She was wearing an old sweater of his, knit by an older Gryffindor and given to him as a Christmas gift the last year he stayed here for the holidays. It was shades of green, woven together to make a chunky knit sweater that fell just past her hips. She was wearing his old pajama pants too, ones from an impromptu sleepover at his childhood home. He wasn't shocked they fit her, considering she hadn't grown since third year, but he was shocked to see she kept them.

She blew out the candles next to him, smoke billowing up and out of the jar they were in. She put lotion on her face and her hands, grabbing his hands and putting the excess on them. She grabbed his chin very lightly with her thumb and forefinger, moving his head around, as if to inspect him, and for a small moment Sirius was afraid of what she would find.

"You haven't been sleeping well. Haven't been eating either." She said it so surely. As if she could see it written on his forehead in black ink. Sirius shook his head softly, not wanting the warmth from her fingers to leave his skin. She smiled nicely up at him, moving her hand to brush his hair out of his face. He reached up to hold her wrist, trapping her hand against his cheek, and she smiled softer. She had to stand on the very tips of her toes to kiss his head, and it made him huff, and almost laugh, and she smiled victoriously.

She pulled him into her room gently. Pushing him softly to sit on her bed while she walked to get him some pajamas. She pulled out a shirt he gave her and some pants he left in her room that Remus had given him for his birthday. He turned to change, facing the bathroom door just as he had when he came here not long ago. Swiftly changed into pajamas he laid down with a content sigh. Being head girl surely had its perks, and one of them was a king sized bed in a dorm with no roommates.

"D'you want some tea, lovey? Could make it with the honey like you like." How she made him blush with such simple words always baffled him. She remembered everything, she always has. Sirius shook his head, and instead opted for holding his arms up and making grabbing motions with his hands towards her. Her giggle made him smile, it made him notice he was in a much better mood, too. She walked over to the other side of the bed, laying right next to him, and pulled his shoulders to make him lay on her stomach. His arms instantly wound around her waist, shoving his face as deep as he could into her body, holding her as close as he possibly could. Her fingers found themselves weaving into his hair, running through the locks like they were strands of silk. The quiet that encased the room was a lovely type of silence. The kind that Sirius wishes he had more often. No matter how loud and obnoxious he got, times like these were where he felt most himself.

After a while of silence, (Y/N) started humming a song again. As sleepy as it made Sirius, he couldn't let himself sleep.

"I love you, bunny." It was mumbled into her shirt, a half-asleep induced speech mess. She hummed at him, running her hands through his hair while she waited for the perfect moment to say it back. It wasn't a long time before she responded, but while she was waiting he moved his head so his chin rested on her stomach, and he looked at her. It was a tired stare, half closed eyes and a dopey sleep smile etched into his features.

"D'ya hear me bun? Said I love you." She giggled at this, his insistence, and leaned down to kiss his hairline.

"Love you too, Siri. More than anythin' in the whole universe." Her voice was just as sleepy as his, and it made Sirius think that the moment meant that much more to him. That even in their vulnerable, tired states, they felt confident in loving each other. A satisfied hum left his throat, and as he was about to nuzzle back into her shirt, she pulled his hair to make him look at her again.

"'Ya gonna kiss me g'night, handsome? Or should I go get Regulus." A half-chuckle half-groan left his mouth, knowing it's a joke, yet not wanting it be said.

"Should know better than t'say that, bun. Gonna kiss you till y'can't breathe." She giggles as he shimmies up to her face, and she giggles even harder as he kisses all over her cheeks. She knows he feels better, can see that she got her Sirius back to normal, and it makes her feel accomplished. And it makes her think about how she'd do it every single day for eternity if he asked.

"Gimme one proper kiss so I can sleep, you big doof." He laughs into her cheek, placing one last kiss on each one, and finally landing on her lips. It was a long kiss, pressing the final bits of his bad mood into her. A few extra short pecks and one long dramatic smack of his lips later and he is back on her stomach, under the quilt she has charmed to stay warm, with her hands in his hair. Sometime in the night, after they've fallen asleep, his hands wind up under her shirt, searching for the warmth subconsciously. And sometime in the night, Sirius has dreams of her wearing his shirt in their bedroom, and he wakes up in a good mood.

#sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #sirius black x reader #sirius black #regulus black

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mimikyugirl · 3 years

Text

Lovely Secretary

-one shot-

.Y/N is the newly arrived secretary and needs to get used to the routines of the band. .Pairing F!Reader with John Lennon.

.inspired by this post.

You woke up in the morning slowly, wishing more than ever that you knew how to go back in time to sleep just a few more hours.

To say it was morning is a poetic freedom, actually.

When you opened the curtains, you saw that the streets were still dark. Not even the sun was ready to receive you.

You crawled into the bathroom hoping that the warmth of the bath could replace the warmth of the covers and do a better job to wake you up.

Brian asked you to be in the office twenty minutes before he did, which made you wonder if it was really worth even sleeping.

It was already your third week as secretary of the band and you had not yet processed that your daily job was to be with the Beatles. It was surreal enough to make everything else worthwhile.

The hot water in the bath helped wash away the tension from the previous day and prepare you for this next one.

In the last few days, the boys were preparing material for a new album, rehearsing excerpts for presentations and discussing the appearance on some TV shows. Brian had recently secured a contract for a photo section and an individual interview for each of them, in a well-known London magazine. George wanted to study the contract a little better and took it home, as did Ringo.

You had scribbled huge notes in the arms of George and Ringo at the end of the night:

"IF I FORGET THE CONTRACT BRIAN WILL KILL ME AND KILL Y/N !!"

They walked out of the studio laughing out loud carrying their instruments and promising they wouldn't forget, but they both did, leaving Brian irritated for the rest of the workday.

You brushed your hair and put on your favorite perfume after showering, taking a few minutes to remember the day that John had said it was also his favorite perfume.

On your third day at work, you had entered the studio room during one of the breaks to organize some music. You walked inside and closed the door slowly, humming one of the new tunes the boys had made throughout the afternoon.

You hadn't noticed that John was sitting in the corner with a cigarette.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.Lennon. I thought everyone was gone", you said looking astonished, afraid you might had interrupted an important moment.

"No problem, I'm just making time. I think it's a little cold to go out to smoke on the terrace", he said, getting up and collecting some cups scattered around the room.

"It's Y/N, right?"

You stopped for a moment and turned to John, who was standing looking curiously in your direction.

"Yes, Mr.Lennon, that's right".

The silence of the room was only interrupted by the rustling of papers and the faint clink of ceramics in John's hands.

"If you know how to do the job as well as you smell, I think the job will be yours forever", he said. You couldn't help but notice the smile that seemed to dance between John's words.

"Sorry, Mr.Lennon, what?"

"Your scent. It's absolutely delicious", he said walking behind you with a few cups in his hands, heading toward the door. John stopped for a few seconds and you could hear him taking a deep breath, letting the air out with a low moan.

"By the way, you can just call me John. I’m no Sir"

John left you alone in the room with a silly smile on your face, not quite sure how to respond or not knowing if he had shamelessly flirted with you.

Later, when everyone had returned to their instruments and you went to pour new cups of tea, Paul greeted you with a wink. "John told us you like the new song", he whispered when you leaned towards him, leaving your face hot, "Good to know".

Ok. Maybe John didn't say it was his favorite perfume but same thing.

In the studio, the atmosphere with the band was always very comfortable. George hated to ask you to get things for him, always reluctant and afraid to appear rude.

Ringo always showed up in the morning with a big smile on his face and some food. "I saw this cookie and I remembered you!", was one of the first things he said to you in your first days. He always treated you like a little sister who needed to be protected, and you loved him for it.

Paul always wasted good minutes signing papers and photos at the studio door, and it was his arrival that Mal was most concerned about.

"The diva has arrived", Mal would sigh to you on the mornings when you could hear the hustle and bustle of the fans from your table. Soon after, Paul would come towards you with the flirtation mode 100% turned on. He was a tireless flirting machine and loved to practice his lines on you.

John hardly ever came in the front door. Often you didn't even see him in the morning and he only seemed to materialize through the building's corridors in the afternoon. He liked to follow you like a stray dog while you were doing your chores. It was normal for him to offer to deliver a document or for him to spend any of the breaks making small talk with you. "Do you have a little time for me, Y/N?", he'd ask, holding two steaming cups in his hands.

You always had a little time for John.

The most difficult task in the early days was to fall in love with each of them at least thirty-six times a day. When Paul winked at you from across the room or said he was going to dedicate the next song to you, you definitely spent the rest of the day in love with him. But if George gently asked you to wait for him at the end of the day to go for a walk together, then you loved him that day. If John took you to an empty room to spend the break hiding, smoking together and talking about your favorite TV show, then that day you surely imagined what it would be like to kiss John and have him for you. Until Ringo said goodbye to you with a tight hug and a "Goodbye, dear", because from that moment on he was your favorite.

After choosing a black sweater and organizing your purse, the window showed the light that predicted a beautiful dawn.

You protected yourself from the cold with a beautiful yellow coat and jumped out onto the city streets for the daily walk to the studio.

You lived three streets from work and two from the apartment that the guys shared. It was normal for George to knock on your door in the morning for you two to share the walk, but today you made your way alone.

Once there, Mal was already seated on one of the reception sofas, awaiting for you.

"Don't you ever sleep, Evans?", "Only a few times a year", he answered, welcoming you with a happy smile.

The two of you worked together to prepare the rehearsal rooms in the time it took for Brian to arrive. Shortly after, the daily crowd of fans was already approaching the entrance.

You and Mal were at the reception desk organizing delivery times for some equipment the next night, when the screams that announced Paul's arrival began. He could be seen among the crowd wearing an elegant brown overcoat and nibbling on an apple.

"How come his eyes don’t hurt blinking at people that much?", Mal sighed, going to meet Paul outside.

"Ei love, good morning", Paul made his way inside the building, approaching the table to kiss you on the cheek, "What do we have for today?".

"Good morning Mr.Mc ... Paul", you said, stumbling over the words a little because of his presence, "Brian asked you to go to his office as soon as you arrived. Then, John said he wanted to go over that solo from yesterday but... "

"But John changes his mind in the same way that the wind changes direction", he completed while biting the apple.

The three of you shared a smile and continued talking about the day's amenities until you saw the crowd of people at the door step aside to let George and Ringo pass.

They entered together, both wearing sunglasses. Ringo went happy in your direction, shaking a small paper bag.

"Good morning Y/N! Good morning guys! Me and George brought muffins, Y/N, from that place you like", he said giving you a hug.

"That's very kind, Rings. Thank you guys so much", You remembered for the first time that you hadn't eaten anything in the morning.

"Please tell me you remembered that contract today", you asked, making a pleading gesture with your hands only to be received by Ringo's look of shock.

"Fuck, Y/N. I forgot. Again", "So it's safe to say that Brian will guarantee that today is my last day among mortals", you replied worriedly.

"I'll talk to him, I'm sure he can wait another day", he said, giving your hand a comforting pat.

"Is there a muffin for me too?", Paul asked reaching for the paper bag.

"We reserve it only for the people we actually like", George said jokingly, walking over and giving you a quick hug too. Paul complained as George wrapped him around the shoulders and carried him away.

"Did you sleep here today? We stopped by your house but you were already gone", Ringo said.

"I didn't but it might be a good idea the next time I need to wake up before the sun", you said taking a bite of the muffin. It was chocolate and banana. Your favorite.

"Thank you Geo!", You shouted before they disappeared into the halls, "Thank you Rings. I didn't have time to eat in the morning, this will save my life. Considering of course Brian is going to let me stay alive."

"We know that Brian has been demanding a little more from you", Ringo said putting his arms on the counter, "We're just taking care of our friend. Don't worry."

You shared one of the muffins with Mal, who was already looking worriedly at his watch.

"Any sign of John?", Mal asked, "None yet. When we left he was still in the room so it should be a few minutes for him to show up", Ringo said, "But I think it's best for me to go and prepare everything with the boys. See you there, Y/N?"

"Sure, Rings. I'll be up there in a minute."

The man waved goodbye and made his way into the halls of the studio. Mal didn't stay there long before he headed out of the building, something about parking a van and a wild fan.

The thought of John sleeping at home alone worried you. He might as well just spend the rest of the day sleeping and not even remember to show up at the studio. It would not be the first time.

You made a mental note to call their home phone in fifteen minutes if John gave no sign of life. Hell, if necessary, you would go there in person to drag him into the studio.

Lost in the thought of having to go there, you didn't realize that John was cautiously entering the table space behind you.

He was trying to control his laughter as he positioned himself as close to you as possible without being seen. He suddenly put both arms around you.

"GOOD MORNING, Y/N", he shouted hugging you tight from behind.

The scare was enough for you to let all the papers you were working on fly to the ground and also for you to scream as loudly as the fans outside.

"WHAT IN THE HELL JOHN! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?", you shouted, hitting him over the head with a pen.

John was still holding you tight while letting out the uncontrolled laughter.

Paul showed up running through the door, followed closely by George.

"Y/N?", Paul asked, running so fast towards you that his feet slid across the floor, "What happened? We heard you from up there", George said.

The two made their way to your desk, dodging papers on the floor, being able to see for the first time that what had happened was John.

"She's fine. My beauty was just too much for her this morning, wasn't it?", John asked resting his head on your shoulder.

You tried not to be embarrassed by how close John's body was to yours. He was still leaning over you, his mouth so close to your neck that it tickled.

"Well guys", you said, catching your breath, "John is here". George made his way back, shaking his head and Paul followed him laughing.

You you heard Paul say "So she was the one he was talking about that day?", but John distracted you fast enough.

"Are you going to come up with me?", John asked walking away from you, "We should start recording the new song and we want you there".

"You still have that solo to finish with Geo and Brian wants to see you in his office before rehearsal", you said walking around the table to start picking up the papers on the floor.

John promptly accompanied you to help, "The director wants me in his office, huh? Then I think I'm in trouble", he said.

You two spent a few minutes picking up the papers and talking about the dream John had the night before, until you heard the sound of footsteps going towards you.

"John, can you please get up there? You are already late and I really can't let you waste any more time here", Brian's voice came from above you.

There were rare times when he needed to control the attitudes of any of the guys, but seeing Brian angry was rarely a pleasant sight.

"I was just helping Y/N with the mess I made in the documents. Good morning to you too, by the way", John said with no hint of excitement in his voice.

He walked away saying "See you later, Y/N", and left you there with Brian.

"What happened here?", Brian asked as soon as John disappeared.

"I... I accidentally dropped a pile of documents but John... ", you started to answer but Brian interrupted you, "It's your job to organize the paperwork, not John's. Where's Ringo and George's contract, anyway? We're already two days out of date because you didn't hand me these contracts over".

He looked irritated.

"Sorry, I tried to remind them of the contract but they forgot again, I... ", you were interrupted again by Brian, "So you need to try better, yes?".

"Yes, sorry. I'm going to personally get them today" you said, embarrassed.

"Tomorrow morning without fail, Y/N", he said and it didn't sound like a negotiable thing.

Brian stomped away and you felt like you were holding your breath for the whole conversation. He was a sweet and kind person, but incredibly methodical and a perfectionist. You respected him a lot on that side too, since that was what made it possible for the band to be growing so fast. But just like Paul, when something didn't go the way Brian planned it, he became a much less caring and more calculating person, doing everything possible and impossible to know exactly where his plans had gone wrong and who was responsible.

You spent the rest of the day trying to make yourself invisible through the halls, afraid to meet Brian again and give him new reasons to be irritated.

The afternoon was spent in an isolated office on the third floor, between signing new contracts and talking to new suppliers. You couldn't even go to the rehearsal or have your usual coffee with John.

Later on, a soft knock on the door took you out of the mountains of papers.

Mal needed someone to go with him to the venue that was booked for next week. Your job would be to take him there and then home. You made a quick mental plan to go with him and then drive to the boys' house to pick up the documents on your way back. Without even having time to say goodbye to anyone, you made your way out with Mal.

It was a pleasant journey, everything went as planned and you could spend a few minutes sitting in the van with Mal, outside his house.

You were very inspired by his presence. All the dedication he had to the band was adorable and you knew he did it out of love. It gave you the strength to go through days like this.

Mal waved goodbye and you started your way to the boys' house.

The journey took about twenty minutes, but those twenty minutes alone in the car were enough for all the tiredness of the day to weigh on you. You parked your car in front of the boys' building and allowed yourself a few minutes to stand there, trying to control the tears that had accumulated throughout the day.

The conversation with Brian and the lack of sleep alone were enough to make your mental strain evident. Despite the love you had for the moments you spent in the studio, it was a difficult task to balance all the responsibilities.

Your eyes were still watery when you got out of the car, making it difficult for you to find the right key for the entrance.

Paul had given you a copy of the key the week before, since you had to go there often to deliver documents or wake them up when one of them forgot to show up at the studio.

However, after going up the stairs and fitting the key to the door, it was already open.

You walked in and found John sitting on the couch lost between TV shows. He was sitting in a funny way (but it wasn't the strangest you've ever seen) and he had a small cup of tea between his fingers.

"Y/N? Did something happen? I haven't seen you all day", he put the cup of tea on the coffee table and went towards you.

The room was empty and the only sound was the muffled noise of the TV. The lights were yellow and soft, the window curtains were closed, and John was still wearing the clothes he wore in the studio, despite having lost his suit on the kitchen counter.

"Hi, John", you said, locking the door and shyly entering the room, "Everything is fine, no need to worry. Brian asked me to come over here and get those contracts, y'know? Ringo said he would take it in the morning but he forgot".

John looked carefully at your face and immediately realized that something was wrong. You mentally judged yourself for not drying your tears better.

John stopped in the space in front of you, leaving you with your back against the door.

"Are you crying?"

"This is nothing, John. The day was just... I didn't think you would be here", you put a hand to your face to check that the tears would not escape again.

The lack of sleep and the rush to complete all the tasks hit you again.

John did not hesitate to come towards you and embrace you in a hug. He had a comfortable smell that you had already gotten used to.

For the first time in the day, you felt that the weight of the work leaving your body, allowing John to hold you.

"I'm here with you. It's okay" he whispered, letting his fingers run smoothly through your hair.

You two stayed pressed for long minutes by the door. A silent pool of tears dampened John's shirt, but you didn't care at the time.

"I know that Brian can be a perfectionist at times. I know that I'm a complicated person too and... ", he moved a few centimeters away to look you in the eyes, letting one of his hands rest on your waist and the other to dry your tears.

"I know there’s a lot going on, but we need you. It may seem that sometimes we’re too lost there to notice but we know everything you do for us"

Seeing John's face so closely now, you noticed for the first time how much older the boy looked. John had eyes that seemed to have seen much more than was possible at that age and you felt a great sympathy for him.

You saw up close everything they lost and went through to live their dream, all the moments that everything seemed so much bigger than them and yet they all had enough space in their hearts to take care of the people around them.

"Your presence in the studio is one of the best things that has happened since we have been there. We all agree with that, even Brian", he added.

John's voice was low and left a delicious feeling of comfort in you.

"Thanks John. I know it's not exactly your problem, but thanks for that", you said, lowering your eyes and bringing one hand to your face to dry the tears better.

"Anything that happens to you is my problem, love", John tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, "I really care about you a lot. I'll talk to Brian about your schedule as soon as he calls me, we will solve this okay?"

Without thinking, you threw yourself into John's arms again, being greeted by a soft laugh from him. It was your way of thanking all the affection.

"Just don't judge Brian too much, y'know?", he added, "He's just as stressed as we are, I'm sure he doesn't mean it".

John stepped away from you and held your hand between his.

"Do you need to go back now? The show you like is on and I think the lads will still be in the studio for a few hours. Will you stay here with me?", he asked. His eyes seemed to insist that you say yes and considering that the contracts only needed to be delivered the next morning, you agreed.

"It would be an honor to be with you, John", you said smiling.

He took the bag off your shoulder and placed it on the table while you started to take off your coat.

"Take your shoes off, too. George doesn't like us walking around the house with shoes", he said as he walked over to the couch.

You took off your shoes and followed him closely.

You and John spent a few hours sitting together on the couch, taking turns between laughing and eating the popcorn that John made in the middle of the night.

Eventually you were already tangled with him. Your legs mingled with John's on the couch and he had his arms around you. Your face was so close to John's chest that you could hear his heartbeat, resounding happily against you.

The sound began to transport you back to the tiredness of the day, and the other sounds in the room began to fade as the comfort of John's presence rocked you to sleep.

It took John a few minutes to realize that you had fallen sleep. He spent a few seconds looking at your legs wrapped around his and also at the peaceful smile your sleeping face held.

He was sliding a finger across your face when he heard the door open. The three boys came into the room, laughing loud and talking animatedly, ignoring John's desperate gestures on the couch to make less noise.

George was the first to notice that you were sleeping there with John.

"Is dat Y/N?", He finally asked, nudging Paul so he could speak more softly.

John nodded and raised his hand to his mouth to ask for silence.

"I don't think I've ever seen her stand still for that long", George said with curiosity.

"Did you two by any chance... ?", Paul asked raising an eyebrow at the sight of John so close to you.

"No, Paulie, she just needed someone and... it just so happened that I was here", John said looking at you fondly.

The three boys by the door exchanged suspicious looks.

"Your dream was that she needed more than that then huh, Johnny boy", Paul said with a soft laugh.

"You better not do shit, John. She's a nice girl", Ringo said.

They all held their breath when you fidgeted on the couch, clinging to John's shirt.

"She certainly looks very comfortable with you, John", Paul said and you felt John's chest sway with a soft laugh, "Isn't it better to put her to bed?", George asked.

"Yes, take her to my bed and I sleep with George today", Ringo suggested, "Our room is the quietest".

"She looks adorable", George said and drew agreement from everyone in the room.

John did something you couldn't see, but George immediately asked him to take it easy.

"I'm just saying, John, you don't have to kill me"

Shortly after that you were carried to John's bed, which is where he decided you were going to sleep.

He said goodbye to you with a soft kiss on the forehead and pulled the covers over your body.

You woke up a few minutes later, missing John's warmth, and realized where you were. The pillow smelled mildly of his hair and the covers were soft and warm. Through the door you can hear the conversation of the four boys, all sharing the day's happy accomplishments. Among all four voices, there was one that made you feel at home. You were lulled back to sleep by the muffled sound of John's laughter.

At the end of this day it was easy to decide who was the guy who made your heart beat faster.

Something told you that your feelings wouldn't change when the sun came up in the morning this time.

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“I know you, Harry Styles” Pt. 2

aka “You’re an Angel”

how harry always be lookin’ at you ^^

AHHH so I’m so glad I wrote a second part of this! It got to be much more enjoyable once I just starting writing what I wanted and not keeping with the original idea I had lol. - I hope y’all enjoy: give me feedback and also I’d love some requests :)

Cannot believe I gave this a slight musical twist bahaha

Also more music was inspiring me to write (that’s usually how it goes) so main songs were: Besame Mucho - the beatles and Time of the Season - the zombies (both mentioned in the story but if you wanted to get ready lol

Word Count: 6.6k (lmao what is wrong with me) | Warnings: kissing, allusion to smut, mentions of covid/quarantine, a little self-doubt/allusion to insecurity, FLUFF

Part 1

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

His lips connected with yours. The kiss was chaste, but it felt so good. Your lips tugged slightly on his lower lip and Harry continued to kiss you. Then he gave you one more kiss that lingered on your lips, his lower lip slowly pulling itself over yours before he completely pulled away. The warmth of his lips remained on you even when he was gone, but you couldn’t help yourself from trying to tug him back down onto you.

You went to bed that night flustered, to say the least. You couldn’t shake the thought of what almost was down on that couch. It excited you, but it scared you a little too. You didn’t actually know this guy, even if he was famous Harry Styles. You wanted to get to know the actual person, Harry, before you did anything you might regret. It also scared you because this would eventually end. Your lives weren’t connected except for David and that was a rather loose connection. It wasn’t realistic to get involved with Harry, no matter how hot it felt to almost kiss him.

You woke up from the light flooding into your room, through the beautiful, yet impractical, sheer white curtains. You groaned, a slight grogginess from drinking last night. Then you remembered the events of last night, and you groaned louder.

“Oh God,” you moaned to yourself in disbelief, before sliding out of the bed. You padded to the window and looked outside, the view from here was incredible, the city to your left, the vast hills to your right. This offered you some comfort.

Then, you went over to the mirror in the corner of the room. Your hair was a mess from sleep, your eyes were drooping, and your clothes that you had slept in were askew. You rubbed your face with a single palm before setting out to the bathroom down the hall. You crept slowly, worrying you might run into Harry in your unideal state, which would make the events of last night all the more embarrassing. However, when you left the room, you heard music coming from downstairs and decided Harry was likely down there as well.

After the bathroom, you looked in your mirror once more. Your appearance was far more uniform now, even if you were still in your sleepwear. Harry still hadn’t learned what quarantine was so you were assuming he’d be in some nice outfit. You didn’t know what would be worse, going down in the oversized t-shirt you had worn to sleep last night or getting dressed like you actually had something to do today - when you didn’t. You decided to go with the easiest option, go with what you got. You added shorts underneath the shirt for some coverage and ventured downstairs.

There, the music became clearer to you. The Beatles’ rendition of “Besame Mucho” had just begun and Paul’s voice was extra sultry in it. You loved this song and you almost ceased to exist when you saw a shirtless Harry singing animatedly to it as he made himself cereal.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Harry. He had begun to sing to his cereal box when it had started, but he looked at you directly when he realized you were there. The way he sang out, “Besame, Besame mucho,” similar to Paul, was full of sexual yearning.

His tone made you feel something deep inside, but it also made you feel like you were right where you were last night. But it was morning now, no wine to blame. Just the two of you with your eyes locked and Harry singing “kiss me, kiss me a lot.” The two minute song seemed to last forever. However, when it finally ended, Harry released you from his stare. You were in disbelief that the tension from last night had been so quick to pop up this morning.

“Lovely song,” Harry threw out as he passed by you and went somewhere else to enjoy his cereal. You stood there, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. You shook yourself out of it and went to prepare your own breakfast.

Finding all the ingredients for your breakfast smoothie, you blended them up, poured it into a glass, cleaned up and headed out into the house. Slightly in search of you entrancing roommate, but also interested in taking advantage of all the space this house provided.

Harry was sitting in a different sitting room than the one from last night. You were happy with the change in scenery, not wanting any more reminders of last night. This room was smaller than the other, but it had a cute, little fireplace and you could imagine nights of laughing around the crackling fire, snuggled up next to someone you loved. You pushed the thought from your mind, knowing you didn’t have someone to snuggle with.

Harry had transferred his music to this room's bluetooth system and a random playlist was on, you assumed. He was happily chowing on his cereal when you entered and you smiled sheepishly at him. You crossed to the empty spot on the couch, the furthest one from his toned, tattooed, naked torso.

He raised his brows at your presence. “Hey,” you said, you had no clue what else you could say. “Hey,” he echoed in response. Silence. God, this is awkward, you thought. How could you have gone and screwed this up already? You mentally facepalmed.

Harry broke the silence, “Any plans for today?”

“Ah no, David doesn’t really have anything for me to do right now, but,” you stopped for a second to sip on your smoothie, “I think I’m going to take Checkers out on a walk at some point.”

Harry perked up at the mention of Checkers, “Let me know when, I’d love to get some fresh air and play with Checkers, too.”

You nodded, knowing the conversation was ending already and you’d go back to the awkward silence.

Harry and you went your separate ways again after breakfast.

At around 3, you decided it’d be a good time to walk Checkers so you grabbed one of his leashes and searched the house for the dog. In the living room, from last night, you found Harry, laying on his stomach, with his arms around the tiny pup, snuggling him and whispering to him.

You heard one snippet: “You’re such a cute lil’ baby, aren’t you? I love you,” he cooed to the dog below him. Your smile made an appearance on your face.

Clearing your throat, you notified Harry of your presence.

Harry flitted his gaze up to you standing behind him, brows raised once again. “I thought we could go for the walk, if you’re still interested,” you said, holding up the leash.

Harry jumped to his feet and thought better of making a comment about who the leash was for. Instead he said, “Yeah, thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Of course.” You leashed up Checkers and went for the front door.

“Actually,” Harry’s words stopped you, “do you think we could go out the back gate?”

You stood there slightly confused, you knew there was a path from the back, but you preferred walking to a patch of grass that required you to go out the front door.

“Um,” you started, not particularly wanting to change your plan.

Harry elaborated, “It’s just, I’d prefer no pap photos and the back walk is much more private.”

You understood his preference and you knew you didn’t want to be part of a twitter storm of “Who is that with Harry Styles!” and you, even more, didn’t want to be part of the twitter storm that followed the first: the deep dive into your life and then whatever terrible thing they decided to say about you afterwards.

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t want that either.” You switched courses and Checkers was roaring to go, prancing and yipping excitedly.

Harry mulled over what you said, he was, on one hand, glad you weren’t eager to be seen with him, but he also felt another feeling, possibly rejection, on the other hand, that you didn’t want to be seen with him. He didn’t know why he felt that, especially because he had been the one to bring it up.

Once out on the path, you actually let Checkers off his leash, he knew to stay close and since you weren’t walking next to streets you didn’t have to worry about cars.

That left you and Harry to walk beside each other while Checkers went around exploring and sniffing everything. It felt weird to have your hands next to each other yet not touching as you walked. The path was wide enough for the proximity of your bodies to not be as they were, but for some reason you and Harry had decided to walk within touching distance.

Harry wasn’t one for silence, you were beginning to realize, as he always seemed to be the first to fill it whenever it fell between the two of you.

First, he commented on Checkers and how smart of a dog he was for how small he was. You responded with something about how looks can be deceiving, even with dogs. Harry laughed. Silence. Then, he commented on the nature around the two of you and how beautiful it was. You only said “I love it.” Silence.

Harry was at a roadblock, mentally, there were no roadblocks on the path. The three of you had been walking for ten minutes and you had only said about ten words. Last night had been so fun for him and then you ran off and he felt like it all had been ruined. Now, today the two of you had been walking on eggshells around one another.

He thought back to last night and ran through the list of things the two of you had meshed on. There was actually quite a bit and he was determined to get back to the ease of conversation that had occurred between you two last night. Finally he had it. Travel.

“If you had to live in one country for the rest of your life, where would you go,” he paused, “And why!”

“Did you just pull out an icebreaker on me?” you asked, incredulous at the man walking beside you.

You had been content with the silence, but obviously had to bite at his question. It was a good question.

“I have no idea what that is,” Harry shrugged, crossing his arms nonchalantly. Your face turned to him and you couldn’t help your laughter. You could tell he was trying to be cute - and it was working.

You thought about his question for a moment.

“Am I able to travel still or am I required to stay in that one country at all times?” “You have to stay there at all times, but you can travel to different places in the country.”

You hummed at his response. “Alright,” you began, “Do you want to hear my thought process?”

Harry nodded eagerly, “Please.”

You knew you talking more would make him happy and honestly you were happy to oblige. As awkward as you felt after last night, you knew you had to shake it off. You were both adults, Harry probably has kissed plenty of his friends and it's been nothing, you sure had. You could’ve been another name on each other’s list of friends you’ve kissed. It was hard for you to think of a reason as to why it had been so daunting for you to face Harry today.

“Ok, so the smart choice for a travel happy person would be the United States because it is very large and you could travel around within the country to different places.”

Harry looks at you, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “Uh-huh,” he encouraged you to continue.

“But, honestly I’ve always wanted to get out of this country. So then my next idea was Japan because while it may be small, I love it there and everyone is wonderful. It’s just this awesome place.”

Harry’s smile was now an entire grin, he loved how animated you had become. “But?”

You laughed at the fact that he already knew what you were going to say. “Exactly, but! I don’t know the language, so I would have to spend a long time learning it either there or here first and as you get older, picking up a language is hard, and Japanese is a complicated language even if you are young.”

Harry nodded, again. This time you needed no verbal encouragement to keep going, travel excited you.

“Final answer,” you said, tone dire, like you were on a game show about to win the big money prize.

“Final answer,” Harry echoed.

He had flipped around and was walking backwards, you had no idea why, but he had wanted to get a better look at your face. It had lit up while talking and he just wanted to memorize the twinkle in your eye.

“France. It’s relatively large - with cities, coasts, and countryside. It's wonderful, filled with beautiful art and history. I speak the language already, and even though the French can be a little mean, I, also, in fact, can be a little mean.”

Harry bit back his laugh and clapped his hands.

“Wonderful answer, Ms. ...,” He paused, confusion filling his face, “I actually never got your last name, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you said before quickly telling him your last name, then he repeated his praise, adding it to the end.

You smiled back at him, feeling pride for your answer even if it was something silly. Harry made you feel extremely special. It was almost like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

You jumped a bit to get back in pace with him and he turned back around.

“What about you, Mr. Styles, where would you go if you could only live in one place for the rest of your life?” You nudged his exposed arm, the one that wasn’t covered in tattoos - just the eagle, as you repeated his question.

He sighed and looked at the sky, thinking for a moment.

“Are people allowed to visit me?” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“Sure, it’s not like you’re dropping off the face of the earth, people would know where you’ve gone,” you said.

“But you wouldn’t be able to visit me?” Harry followed up.

You responded to Harry with a question. “In this scenario are we both moving to places that we are never able to leave?”

He shrugged, looking to you for the answer since he had asked the initial question that had complicated the scenario.

You huffed and then took it upon yourself to decide. “Ok, so anyone who is not in a similar agreement as the one we have entered into in the scenario is allowed to visit you. So as long as your mum doesn’t enter into an agreement where she moves to one country for the rest of her life - that isn’t the same as the one you pick- then she can still visit you.”

Harry nods and snorts a little at how much you had just said in one breath. “Still no you though?” he teased.

“No me,” you confirmed, smiling that he was considering you in the scenario, even if it wasn’t plausable thing at all. Like you said, he made you feel special.

“Ok, well,” Harry finally began his answer, “I like France.”

He continued to look at you, but you knew he wasn’t done. “And I’m glad you cleared up the mum thing, because that would’ve probably swayed me back to England.”

He chuckled at himself, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and whisper a little laughing “Shut up.”

He went on, “I like the idea of Japan or Italy as well, but I don’t know the languages there either. I don’t know, even with my Mum still able to visit me, I just love my home.”

You bit your lip, that might just be the cutest thing in the world.

“I love traveling around, I do. But, I want to go live in the English countryside some day. Have a little farm and a little family. We could go into the city if we needed, but it’d be a quiet little life and it’d be all mine. So, if I could only live in one country for the rest of my life it’d have to be England.”

You blinked and smiled softly at the sentiment. He described something so beautiful and the way he said it, he sounded so sincere - he’d obviously thought about the idea before - settling in the English countryside with a family.

“That makes sense,” you started, your voice low, just above a whisper.

Harry must have thought he detected some sadness in your voice because he was quick to say, “Technically, you know, the English Channel is half English territory and half French. So if we wanted to see each other, we could take boats out and meet in the middle, without leaving our respective countries.”

You threw your head back in laughter, but then you stopped in your tracks. You turned to your right and went off the path to a little patch of flowers you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. Your body crouched and picked one of the taller wildflowers.

Harry had followed after calling to Checkers, letting the dog know of your pause in the walk. He and the dog came up to you. You turned your body back to Harry who was watching you intently.

“We could see each other,” you looked at him and extended the long flower to him. “But we wouldn’t be able to touch,” you studied him carefully, he was like a puzzle - and you weren’t very good at puzzles, “Not without breaking the rules of our agreements.”

Harry delicately touched the opposite end of the flower between you. His eyes flickered between the flower and your face. He smirked, “It’s a good thing that none of it’s real, then.”

He plucked the flower from you with one hand and grabbed your now empty hand with his other. He spun you around and your laughter came out a little high pitched from the surprise of his actions.

“Harry!” you exclaimed, you loved his spontaneity, but you felt like you couldn’t show just how much you really enjoyed what he was doing. He was still spinning you until he extended his arm and you thought it was the end. Until he tugged you and you spun right into his chest, leaving you wrapped up in his arm and staring at his face right above yours.

As you worked to catch your breath, you placed a hand on his chest. You could feel his heart beating below your hand, it was practically in sync with yours. Harry didn’t know that though and he feared you’d think his heart was racing unreasonably. Your smile calmed him down as you continued to stare adoringly up at him. It was nice to be held so close. He was so warm and soft.

“Can you not run away this time?” His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious. His jaw flexed beneath his skin as his eyes squinted slightly at you.

“I’m sorry?” you licked your lips. You didn’t understand his question.

“Can you not run away before I can kiss you,” he repeats. Oh, you thought.

“Harry…” you trailed off, conflicted. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted him to just lean down and take your breath away with the touch of his lips.

“Just let me kiss you, please,” he was begging. Why did he have to beg? And give you that look that made you want to melt into him?

“We barely know each other,” you finally get out. It pained you to even put your thoughts into words.

“So what?” It was more of a statement, than a question when it came from Harry’s lips.

You realized he had a little clip on the top of his head, pulling back his curls. He still managed to look despicably handsome. He reached a hand to curl a strand of your hair between his fingertips. You sighed. Your eyes faltered from the hold his eyes had been keeping, his dimple making an appearance as he smiled sweetly down at you. You could tell that he knew what he was doing to you.

“Wanted to kiss you so bad last night,” Harry continued when he realized you hadn’t formed any words in the last minute.

He began to sway the pair of you slightly in the March breeze. You couldn’t stop your tongue from darting out and wetting your lips at his words. His eyes trained on your face of course didn’t miss the small movement. He only blinked.

“I wanted you to,” you said, still unsure of yourself, “I still want you to.”

His hand in your hair moved to the shell of your ear and trailed lazily onto your jaw. “Then I can kiss you,” he stated, but his voice faltered giving away that he was still a little uncertain.

You put pressure into the hand on his chest, “I’d say you’d have to make me dinner first, but you already did that.” He raised his brows at your change in tone, your words sounding slightly more flirtatious.

You knew what you wanted and hell, maybe this would be the two most fun weeks of your lives.

He leaned down to meet his lips with yours. Softly, your mouths danced together. You pushed your lips into his and his brushed against yours expertly. His pink lips were soft and you felt his bits of chin and mustached scruff on your skin. It all felt amazing. His mouth practically engulfed yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Your body responded by pressing closer and humming a slight moan of satisfaction. Harry liked what he heard. Eventually you both had to come up for air, unbeknownst to your counterparts, both of you had asthma and this hot kiss had taken away your breath a little more than you’d like to admit.

You pulled away from Harry a bit, but he kept his arm around you. “Seems like a good end to the walk, yeah?” Harry asks you. You bit down on your lip and nodded. Checkers had stayed close throughout your whole ordeal, thankfully, but it seemed like he was ready to go back home as well.

Back at the house, Harry and you flowed so much better now. Whether it was the chatting or the kiss, it didn’t matter.

You planned for dinner again, deciding on take out, talked about watching a movie tonight, and then occupied yourselves with various random thoughts.

Whenever you were in reach, Harry had his hands all over you. You weren’t complaining. You liked having him close to you. His skin was fiery while his rings somehow managed to maintain a coolness about them.

The two of you settled in the back room with Checkers. You laid on the couch, while Harry was on his back, on the ground with Checkers laying on his chest. He lazily ran his hand through the dog’s fur, his other hand was extended up and you held his large hand in yours.

Harry had insisted on being the music player for the evening. It had prompted the discussion of music selection switching between the two of them every day, which was reasonable. It wasn’t too awful, Harry and you had similar tastes in music and it was only one day if one of you wasn’t loving the choices being made on your off day. You liked the simplicity of it all.

Over the speakers, “Time of the Season” by the Zombies began to play. You started moving your head side to side to the beat. Harry began singing the main verse. Then you both sang out “it’s the time of the season for loving” not fully grasping at the meaning behind the words.

Harry shifted as the music played so he was sitting at eye level with you. Your face turned to meet his and he smiled as he sang, “What’s your name?” And you giggled and pushed his shoulder. He stayed right where he was, leaning in closer.

You spoke the next verse, “Who’s your Daddy?” while looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at this, there was no other word for what you had just done to him, it was simply hot.

He tried to grab for you, but you pulled away and sat up, still singing the song. “Is he rich like me?” You caricatured yourself as if you were a wealthy woman on a yacht, flipping your hair and fanning yourself, and finished with a bite to your lip.

Harry followed you up, taking over control of the lyrics, “Has he taken any time?” While he sang he pushed you softly into the back cushions, “to show you.” He pulled his body up over yours, face skimming over the front of your body, then when his face was at the shell of your ear he whispered, “what you need to live?”

You let out a shaky breath. His whisper against you sent sparks tingling straight to your core. He was pressed against you, waiting for you to make a move. The song and performance the two of you had begun was forgotten. You turned your head towards him and he moved to face you.

“Hi,” you giggled and brushed your nose against his.

“You’re an angel.”

“Oh?”

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met. Only makes sense that you’re an angel.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Down boy! Don’t go writing an album about me.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and he looked at you with slightly squinted eyes. Then he smirked, sneakily, “I just might! I can see it already: Quarantine Angel the Album.”

“You already have a song called ‘Only Angel’ and she was your ‘only’ one so you can’t have another angel?” You tried to sound logical, but you were playing with him and had to try to hide your growing smile.

“Ah-ha!” Harry jumped up at your words and pulled you up with him. This left the two of you standing chest to chest, his hands now taking up residence on your waist. “You are a fan, I knew it!”

“That proves nothing!” You tried to break away from his grasp, but he refused to let you go. Your body twisted in his grasp so that your back was now against his chest and he was hunched over you slightly, trying to keep you from running away.

He scoffed, “C’mon that’s one of my least streamed songs and it’s off my first album. You obviously listen to my music, Y/N!”

You didn’t dignify his remark with a response. You continued to wriggle in his grasp, but you actually were quite happy in his arms.

“You can say you listen to my music, angel, won’t make me like you any less,” He smirked down at you.

“You really are a narcissist,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, angel?” He moved his head around to try and see your face. You huffed, it was clear he wasn’t going to stop with the pet name now that he had it. “Did you say I really am an amazing artist?”

You finally wriggled yourself from his grasp and turned to face him, “No, I said you really are a narcissist.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line as you smirked at him. His mouth then shifted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. You’re not an angel. More like an evil nymph.”

“Why not just make me a demon?” You teased.

He was backing you up into the wall as you continued to talk. “You’re sexier than a demon,” he replied like it was common sense.

“Oh, alright.”

Harry pressed up against you, your back on the wall, his hands back on your body. “See,” he whispered, “That right there. Who responds to someone telling them they're sexy with ‘alright’?”

“I don’t know,” your blush crept up your neck, suddenly feeling much more shy. Harry caressed your cheek, urging you to make eye contact with him. It was hard, but you obliged.

“I don’t usually receive comments like that.”

“But you’re stunning, angel?”

“Thought I was an evil nymph…”

“‘M not calling you an evil nymph, as a petname, you’re so weird.”

“You said it first, not me. But, seriously, I’m not usually one who receives constant attention - like that…”

“That,” Harry paused, nibbling his lower lip, “makes no sense to me. I find you unbelievably attractive and then your personality makes you all the more amazing.”

You continued to blush at his praise. “That,” you poked a finger into the center of his chest, punctuating your words, “is because you're able to find the good bit in everyone that makes them attractive. Plus, most people find my personality to be rather...off-putting.”

Harry tilted his head at your response, the playful conversation had quickly turned serious. “How do you know I always see the good in people?”

“We’ve already been over this, I know you, Harry, you’re a kind person. You do good by others, even if they don’t always do good by you,” you looked at him meaningfully, you wanted him to know that was a good way to be.

“I can be mean sometimes, unkind, angry, jealous, spiteful, all of it. I’m human, Y/N. I like you, not because I like everyone I meet, but because of who you are. Who you’ve shown me you are.” His eyes were looking intently back at you and you thought you might melt. “Your personality is refreshing, it’s real and honest. Anyone who doesn’t like it just doesn’t like being challenged.”

Your eyes faltered from meeting Harry’s gaze. Your hand on his chest fiddled with his cross pendant.

He was wearing a white tank beneath an open short sleeve white button down. It was clean and refreshing. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing come out of his mouth. Like his shirt, it was refreshing to hear someone speak so kindly of you, even though you barely knew one another. It felt so good.

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

“You’re an amazing kisser, by the way,” you said quietly. Harry chuckled at your words and how you sounded so timid.

“Next you’re gonna tell me you’ve never been properly snogged.”

You disregarded his words, not trying to make yourself sound pathetic, that yes, no one had ever kissed you like Harry did.

“And I’m sorry I boxed you in before. I know you’re human and you have a full range of emotions. It’s unfair of me to say I know you, when I so clearly don’t.”

“Hey, hey, no. I know that’s not what you were saying. I just wanted to show you that I’m not perfect and I have my fair share of critics. Doesn’t mean I’m any less worthy of being treated well. Same goes for you. That was what I was trying to show you.” He wrapped you in his arms and you sighed content to rest your head on his chest and be engulfed by him.

“I want you to believe me when I say you’re an angel,” he kissed the top of your head. “And stunning,” he continued, kissing you again. “And sexy…” he trailed off, stroking your hair. You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest.

The two of you spent the rest of your day together, cuddled on the couch talking and flicking through the various streaming services David had, never able to settle on anything. For dinner, you decided on Chinese takeout and you ate it on the couch.

After you both were satisfied, you leaned into Harry’s side and he extended an arm around your shoulder. You placed one of your arms over his stomach and circularly rubbed him over his butterfly tattoo. You also threw one leg over his lap so your entire body was pressed against his. Harry liked the feel of your body on his, so he adjusted his arm to pull you flush against him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked. Harry nodded. “Ideas?” He laughed before saying, “Earlier when we were singing Time of the Season, made me feel like I was in a musical.” You echoed his laughter as you looked up at him from your spot on his chest. “Mamma Mia?” You suggested. “Love that one.” “It’s probably on one of these apps?” You scrowled through until you found it for free and flicked it on.

The two of you settled again, pressing closer even if there was nowhere closer to go. It just felt good to feel Harry’s body against yours. Warm and strong, yet soft. You both sang softly to the songs in the beginning, but you loved hearing Harry’s voice so much that you stopped singing along by the third song. You laughed along to the antics of the characters, but you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he would sing. He mostly kept his eyes on the screen, but would sometimes flicker them down to your face and smile dopily at you.

You fiddled with his necklace again when you would watch the scenes go by. You’d also comment on what was going on, you were never able to sit quietly during a movie or show, you liked to talk about it too much. Harry didn’t seem to mind, saying something if your comment warranted a response.

When ‘Our Last Summer’ started, Harry began to sing again and you motioned between Colin Firth on the screen and Harry. You said, “Harry and Harry.” He laughed while he continued to sing, the words slightly hiccuping due to his laughter. His soothing voice overpowered the three men, who weren’t actually that good of singers, despite him not trying to sing very loud at all. Then, you had to sing, “And your name is Harry!” when it came around. All Harry did was tap your nose and smile down at you. He wanted to tease you, but he liked how sweet you were being with him.

You continued to watch and about half way through the movie you shifted your spot so your face was in line with his. “You really are an amazing singer Harry, like to hear you right in my ear - it’s like magic.” Harry shook his head and grinned. “You’re too sweet to me, angel. Thought you said you weren’t going to give me special treatment.”

You pecked his cheek and bucked your head softly against his, similar to a cat. “It’s different now.” “I know,” he trailed off again. The pair of you turned your focus back to the screen, finishing the movie with some more side comments and kisses throughout.

When it ended, you yawned slightly, “I forgot how long it was.” Harry nodded his agreement. You began to sit up, but Harry pulled you back into him. A sigh left your mouth as you were able to explain how you wanted to upstairs and get ready for bed. “I just want to keep snuggling, angel, you’re so warm.”

“Harry, I need to go to bed.”

“Then sleep with me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sleep with me in my room. You’re such a child, Y/N.”

“Says the one who won’t let me get up and go to sleep just because he wants to keep cuddling,” you gave him a shake of your head with squinted eyes.

“Look, I can guarantee you will enjoy it. I’m a very gentle man in my sleep.”

You threw your head back, still in slight disbelief of the situation you currently found yourself in. Cooped up in a house with Harry and no one else - besides the dog - the end nowhere in sight, since the news kept telling you how dire the situation was, and him constantly flirting with you. Not to mention the casual kissing that always seemed like it was on the verge of going somewhere else. You had no idea what sleeping in the same bed as him might bring. Sure, you didn’t know each other all too well, but look at him, he was gorgeous and if he wanted you, you were definitely not opposed to giving yourself to him.

You blew the air out of your nose and looked back at him. “Fine,” Harry lit up at your words, “But, you have to go let me brush my teeth and change.”

“I can agree to those terms.”

Then the two of you set off upstairs, Harry practically dragging you by the arm. But the smile never left your face. Checkers had gone to bed hours ago in the den, he preferred to sleep downstairs.

Once you were ready, you headed down the hall to Harry’s room. You admittedly had done a bit more than just change and brush your teeth - full skin care, reapplication of deodorant and some lotion, you didn’t want to smell gross when you were sleeping in the same bed as him.

He’d left the door slightly ajar, but you still decided it was polite to knock. “Come in,” he called, he was already in bed. You stepped into the room in some sleep shorts and a shirt that ended below the shorts, meaning you appeared to be only in the shirt. The room was dimly lit and you scurried to the bed. Harry sat up and dangled his legs off the bed when you came over. You stood in between his legs as he looked at you, running his hand over your face. You loved when he touched you, even in the simplest of ways.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into his lap and you straddled him daintily. Your thighs rested on his and you felt his hands move to cradle your round bottom. He shuffled the two of you back so he was resting against the bedpost. Your hands rested on his chest so that your fingertips fell into the dips of his collarbones.

He was only wearing boxers and you had to remind yourself to keep your eyes at his neck or above. The tiger on his left thigh was almost fully visible and you just wanted to trace it with your mouth. He kneaded your cheeks slightly and you jerked your body forward into him in response. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re very...responsive.”

“Harry,” you practically whimpered.

You knew where he was going and like you said, you wanted to go there with him, but you could feel your exhaustion wearing on you.

“Can we wait?” You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m so tired and I know that it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us if I wasn’t fully into it.”

You took a hand and ran it through his locks, he sighed at your touch. He moved his hands up to your waist and rubbed up and down softly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just look at you and I just want to kiss every inch.”

You took one leg from around his waist so that the two of you could settle in for sleep.

“Same here,” you laughed quietly.

He gave you one last searing kiss before you fell asleep.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Tag list: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, @mellamolayla, @chillingbythesea, @thatgirlwithcamera, @reidsmemory, @socialfake, @harrxier, @imagine-that-1975

#harry baby #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #i know you harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles is domestic #harry styles angst #absolute kissy

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k-jay22 · 2 years

Text

I held your hand

I held your hand on that pretty Sunday mid evening.

You talked and talked about the days when I was young. I let you reminisce on when you'd pick me up from school as a child, even though I couldn't quite remember the events myself. I told you my future plans, and you explained you once had the same passion as I did.

I held your hand on that pretty Sunday mid evening.

I told you as much information as I could about the past five years of my life that you'd missed for silly little reasons that aren't important now. You smiled, and you laughed about the time I told you I was fired from my first proper job. We talked about how bright the sun Shawn through your curtain draped bedroom window.

I held your hand on that pretty Sunday mid evening,

sat cross legged on your bedroom floor. My legs ached from the pois I held , but I didn't care. We looked at the pictures you had on your bedroom wall of the beatles. And in my mind I had replayed the times where you'd make us all stand in a circle in your living room, while you'd dance in the middle of our glee, singing out your favourite songs to the top of your lungs without a care in the world.

I held your hand on that pretty Sunday mid evening.

You told me you had more time. You spoke for the future, although I was uncertain. I told you I'd see you again, because I really thought I would.

I held my hand today, on this pretty Saturday mid evening,

and wished I was holding yours. It hadn't even been a full Callander week that had gone by when I listened to the words of our loved ones tell me you'd left us all for good. I ran down the stairs, and I locked myself in the small bathroom and cried. I knew that your time was coming, but the shock was as forceful as ever. My lungs felt deflated. I felt like I couldn't breath. I held the frail body of my sister today, and I let her cry in my arms. She'd been trying to keep her pain in, but I knew it wouldn't last. We begged to be able to say goodbye too you, although you wouldn't be present to hear or see us. Our pleas weren't answered. Our goodbyes were given in the form of our loved ones while we stayed behind In composure.

I held my hand today on this pretty Saturday mid evening

and I listened to all the songs you used to know. My eyes fixated on the last picture we ever took together. Some time in June 2016.

Tomorrow, I will hold my hand marking a whole week since the last time I physically saw you present and cognitive. I'll remember our last conversation, and I'll treasure the look on your face when you first saw me walk though your bedroom door and told me how grown up and good I looked. I'll keep those with me forever, like the Polaroids I wear on my bedroom wall, as constant reminders that you were here, and I'll miss you for just as long.

Grandad - 5/3/2022

#poetry #heartfelt

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beatlemaniac00 · 3 years

Note

Could you describe one more day in John's (or any other beatle's) life as a teenager? Like that, fanfic? I'd love to read it from you😔🌸🌸

I’ve never wrote a fanfic before, so I hope it’s okay! I was going to use bullet-points but I started it and it looked really bad. This is just 1.5 hours of his day, but I couldn’t find anything else to write about once in school without making this too long.

John Lennon’s typical morning

8 am

The alarm clock starts blaring as soon as the clock stuck 8, Mimi slamming the door open without a second thought for the boy half asleep in bed, she rips open the curtains letting the sunlight stream in to the room, hurting the eyes of the teenager still in bed.

It offends John how she is never late, like she sits outside his door at 7:59 waiting for the stupid alarm clock to go off. Just so she can torment him in to getting out of bed. He’s sure she enjoys it.

Pulling the blankets over his eyes, trying to shield them from the sudden burst of light coming in to the room, and damaging his eyes. Mimi, not one for faffing, quickly pulls the blanket off of him.

He knew he should’ve gone to sleep earlier last night, but the night before Pete was going to the pub, and who was he to refuse that? He isn’t old enough to drink, but that is that going to stop him from trying?

It was naive of him to think that Mimi would oversleep, or perhaps just forget to wake him up in the morning, but he hoped that, for once someone would listen to him and cut him some slack.

‘Up this second, John Lennon!’ Mimi shouted, ‘If you aren’t downstairs for breakfast in 5 minutes then you’ll simply have to go to school hungry.’ With that she gracefully marches out, shutting his door, no doubt going downstairs to start timing him.

Knowing what will happen if he doesn’t listen to her, he runs a hand over his face, like he is physically trying to remove the tiredness, rubbing his eyes so hard he starts faintly seeing little stars.

Two minutes of groaning, stretching, and contemplating if Mimi’s wrath would be that bad. He gets out of bed- deciding that yes, yes her wrath would be that bad.

He stumbles and tumbles around, messily pulling his white shirt over his bed-head, Mimi had ironed it the night before, and folded it neatly and placed it on his desk, but the way he was throwing his clothes on, it quickly started to make them crease.

His shirt hadn’t been tucked in properly, his tie was wonky, with the knot being a little too small, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get downstairs without getting an ear-bashing for being too late.

Quickly running to the bathroom to comb his hair- because that is the only part of his appearance he cares about- then brushing his teeth, and putting some deodorant on. He clambered down the stairs, hitting the banister several times on the way down.

8:15 am

15 minutes, of course the threat of sending John to school with an empty stomach was empty threat, you can’t learn on an empty stomach.

Mimi sending John ‘the look’ over her widespread newspaper when he finally came downstairs was enough to make him quickly sit at the table and start devouring the toast set out for him on the table.

‘Knew I shouldn’t have brushed my bloody teeth first.’ he thought, biting in to the toast, layered with a thick coating of marmalade.

He glanced at the clock.

8:30 am

He knew Pete would be here any minute to ride to school with him, so he downed his tea, slightly burning his tongue, grabbed his black school satchel and rolled his bike from the garden to the front of the porch.

Going to the front gate, he leaned over and saw a head of platinum blonde hair coming his way, Pete lazily riding his bike with one hand on the bar, the other on his knee as that was the ‘cool way to ride.’

Before John could even get to his bike, Mimi was opening the living-room window. ‘John, you’d better put those glasses on, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times before!’

‘Yeah John, how many times she gotta tell ya?’ Pete said while sarcastically grinning at him.

Reaching in to his pocket, he tentatively put on his glasses while glaring at Pete. Waving a hand in-front of his face when turning to Mimi, to make a point of him now wearing his glasses.

‘Happy now?’ John said passive aggressively while putting a leg over his bike and wheeling out the front gate.

‘Don’t take that tone with me, young man. Now off to school, both of you’ Mimi sternly replied, starting to shut the window.

‘Stay out of trouble and watch the roads!’ Mimi shouted before shutting her window completely, not leaving until the two young men are out of sight.

8:40 am

It should take about 10 minutes for Pete and John to get to school, but with them mucking about it normally takes about 30/40 minutes. Making them late for school almost every morning.

John reckons the school would ring Mimi about it, but at this point are just happy if he turns up and doesn’t cause much trouble.

‘Sit down and be quiet, that’s all they want from me’ he thinks bitterly ‘school is shit, wasting my time on this crap.’

Looking down the street and seeing none of his school mates, means they are definitely late. Him and Pete are just prolonging the inevitable by clowning around, trying bike tricks that have given them more scrapes and bruises than the fights they get in to or the cane of the teacher.

9:10 am

‘Hurry up, boys.’ the teacher bellows at the school gates. ‘If you keep on being late we’ll have to phone your parents.’

The teacher, obviously realizing their mistake as John lifted an eyebrow, cleared their throat ‘ O-or guardian.’

Obviously John doesn’t like not having parents, but sometimes he does love to make the teachers uncomfortable when they slip-up. This wasn’t the first time, and he doesn’t suppose it’ll be the last.

It did upset him the first time it happened, but he came to learn that this is the only time he can truly have one-up on the teacher, and he will use it to his advantage.

9:18 am

Idly walking in to his class, a whole 18 minutes late, he confidently strolls in as the whole class turns quiet and the teacher turns to him. He doesn’t particularly like the attention, but he’s damned if anyone will see that as an arrogant smirk graces his face.

‘Shotton, Lennon.’ the teacher spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Just sit down, and be quick about it.’

Both boys walked to their assigned seats, reaching in to their bags for their notebooks and pens. John noticing he hasn’t got a pen, glanced back at Pete.

Pete already knowing John wouldn’t have a pen, because he always forgets one. Got an extra pen and chucked it at John.

John fumbled to catch it, it loudly hit his desk a few times before dropping on to the floor. John kicked the pen towards him with his shoe before awkwardly (but still trying to be cool) sliding down his chair to pick it up.

Looking up, he realized the class was all looking at him. Clearing his throat, he looked at the teacher and nodded his head- as if to say ‘carry on.’

The teacher just glared between the two for about 10 seconds, before carrying on with his lesson.

‘Day’s only just began and I already want to go home’ John thought to himself before slumping in his chair. ‘Fucking school.’

#john lennon #the beatles #the beatles fanfic #the beatles imagine #this is my first one #john lennon imagine

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lynchianightmare · 14 days

Text

My bathroom curtain is The Beatles themed. Yes it is the Beatles. (I can post it later if you want) and it’s so fucking funny.

My parents and I have had it for approximately 7 years? And the reactions usually go:

1-That’s nice!

2-No reaction at all.

3-why do you have that?

4-okay.

5- “Mclennon” it’s a word used to describe the friendly lovely SUPER stable friendship John Lennon had with Paul McCartney, that never, absolutely never, reached levels of homoeroticness.

#the last one absolutely happened #super absolutely happened #believe the dource #SOURCE FUC #classic rock #john lennon #the beatles #paul McCartney #rock #60s #ringostarr #George Harrison #pop #60spop #love #they gay but they in love #MCLENNON

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venusandromedadjarin · 3 years

Text

I’ve Just Seen a Face

Ch. 2, Masters of War

Chapter Song Recommendation: I’ve Just Seen a Face by the Beatles

18+, slight angst, soft!Frankie, mention of stitches, mention of death, 2k words

Joan is nice enough to bring you a book after her morning rounds and it’s a much needed distraction from all the poking and prodding the doctors puts you through. The day passes slowly since you don’t sleep much. The doctor reluctantly agreed to lower the dosage on the pain medication, rolling his eyes throughout your arguing before finally signing off on your chart. That was hours ago, and even though your head and side is throbbing, your mind is starting to clear. The reading helps, even though you aren’t really sure what the book is even about. Laughter from next door breaks your focus from the pages, and you look up to see the clock reads 7pm. The guys are probably visiting Pope since the days officially over.

Your ring catches your eye on the counter and you stare at it for a second before looking away. Shaking your head, you open the book back up, thumbing at the corner of the page. You don’t look up when the curtain slides open, the laughter getting louder, before dissipating again when it’s closed, “Hey, can I.. uh, can I come in?” The voice is gruff, but soft and smooth all at the same time. It’s a conundrum that makes you smile against your will.

“Hey Morales, you’re already in the room so make yourself at home.”

“Frankie,” he sighs. When you look up at him, your brows knitting together, he elaborates, “You can call me Frankie.” He smiles sadly down at you, wringing his cover between his tan hands. You can’t help but stare at them, noticing the small scares that litter his knuckles and his thick fingers. Quickly, you shake your head and gesture to the foot of the bed before trying to scoot back. He reaches towards you when you wince, almost reflexively, “Here, hold on.” Frankie sets his hat on the counter next to the ring, hesitating for a second, before stepping towards you. He reaches out a hand and when you grasp it, he helps you sit up before grabbing the pillows behind you and stacking them up. He nods for you to scoot back and doesn’t take his eyes off of you while you do, squeezing his hand in the process and trying to not to gasp at the pain in your side. When you’re settled, he loosens his grip and moves towards the edge of bed, sinking down to sit at your feet. He leans so that his body is angled towards you. You’re both silent for a second before, “I wanted to say I’m sorry about Sergeant Kearnes…”

You stiffen for a second, glancing at the ring and you see his gaze follows yours. Before answering him you close the book, dog earring your page, and throw it onto the counter as best you can. “Thank you.” It comes out shorter than you expected it to and you blanch, “I’m sorry. I-“

“You don’t need to apologize, Costa,” he runs his hand over his short hair, fidgeting because he doesn’t know what to say.

“Alex.” Frankie lifts his head to look at you, his brown eyes searching your face and you find yourself smiling for the second time since he’d entered the room. “Why does Pope call you Fish?”

He chuckles, and it’s a sound unlike anything you’d ever heard. It’s a sound you could get used to hearing. Guilt trickles through you and you look over at the ring again, and he notices it, his chuckle dissipating. “We all have call signs. Well, except Benny,” Frankie looks towards the curtain, the men’s voices low on the other side. “Pope is the most faithful of the group… not to women, maybe. But to us. We’re a family. He has hope, so much hope. The guy’s insane sometimes, drives us crazy. Tom ‘Redfly’ Miller is the head of the team. He’s the oldest, too and the wisest. He’s pretty serious but he’s a good guy, his intuition has gotten us out of some messed up shit.” Frankie looks at you, only to find you watching him intently and he smirks, his cheeks becoming pink. “William ‘Ironhead’ Miller, he’s a fucking soldier if I’ve ever seen one. I’ve never met anyone more proud to be serving. Benny is his little brother. They both signed up after 9/11. Somehow we all ended up on Delta Force and now we’re a family.”

You tsk, “You still didn’t tell me why they call you Fish.” He blushes again, rubbing his hand over his hair before clasping them together in his lap. His nervousness makes you laugh playfully, “Tell me!”

“Whiskers,” he chuckles again and it’s your turn to blush. When we were training together, I kept getting counseled because my facial hair grows back too quickly.”

“No,” you breath out with a laugh. The movement makes your side prickle with pain and you grasp it, but motion for him to go on.

“I’m serious! I’d fucking shave at 0500 and then by noon it would be growing back. The whole base knew it and so someone made a joke that I had whiskers like a fucking catfish and, well.”

“Your call sign is Catfish?!” You snort and he blushes harder, but the minute he sees you whimper in pain he reaches towards you. His fingertips come to rest on your wrist as you grasp your ribs, your breathing labored from laughing. For some reason, you don’t shrug away from his touch.

Frankie glances down at his hand on yours before quickly pulling away. “I’m sorry, Alex” he stammers. You shake your head, glancing toward the ring again. He studies you as you look at it, watches as you wipe a few tears away and then shrug. “Hey,” his voice is soft and you look back at him, this time your grey eyes search his face, looking for any sign of malice or bad motives. When you find none, you make eye contact, his brown eyes soft in the dim light. “Maybe this is overstepping, but do you want to talk about it?”

The curtain slides open just then, and Pope sticks his head through, glancing between the two of you while Frankie looks startled and embarrassed all at the same time. “The guys are heading back to the barracks. Are you staying here, Fish?” Pope doesn’t miss the way his best friend looks towards you, asking for permission or for an order to leave, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way you subtly nod towards Frankie.

He clears his throat, glancing back at Pope, “I’m going to stay a bit longer.” The man nods before closing the curtain, and a minute later there’s scuffling and laughing next door. Frankies shakes his head, “That’s probably Benny.”

A door closes and the room quiets down again. Soon after, Pope’s overhead light turns off and the only lights that are on are the dim ones on your side and the reading light Joan clipped to your I.V. stand. You silently study each other for a moment, the faint blush creeping back onto Frankie’s cheeks. When you finally speak, your voice comes out stronger than you expect it to, “Beau was complicated.”

He waits for you to go on, but when you don’t elaborate he knits his eyebrows together, “How so?”

You sigh, picking at a loose thread on the blanket covering your legs and suddenly aware that all you have on is a flimsy gown. “We met when we were really young, in college before he enlisted. I was going to school for journalism and I never thought I’d land in the Middle East. It was never vey serious, but by the time we graduated, we’d been on and off for a few years so we decided to move in together. It was rough, he wasn’t faithful through it, and I decided to go back for a Masters. Right when I was about to graduate, he came home with the news he enlisted and I was livid. Beau went to basic, and I got a job as a journalist for a huge news station… When I got the offer to come overseas and photograph the war, I wanted to turn it down, but he claimed it would be good for us. So I did, I packed everything up and threw it in storage. About a year in, he proposed on the base we were at so that we wouldn’t have to split up again and then we got moved here. We’d only been engaged a couple months, and it’s not like we had the wedding planned. Our life is here. Well, he wanted it to be.”

Frankie sighs, searching your face for the inevitable tears, but none come, “Do you love him?”

You look up at him, sadly before whispering, “I used to. Am I bad person for that?”

“No, Alex.”

The two of you sit in silence for awhile before Frankie leaves, and by that time you’re so exhausted you don’t realize he leaves his cover next to the ring.

The next morning, the doctor discharges you after taking out the stitches in your scalp and checking the ones in your side. Your concussion has pretty much healed, but your head still aches if you focus on something for too long. As you’re gathering your belongings and about to pull on the medical sweatpants, you hear someone clear their throat on the other side of the curtain. Pope’s getting the last round of x-rays to make sure he’s cleared, so you call out and ask who it is.

“It’s me.. uh, it’s Frankie.” Your heart leaps a little and you try to calm your nerves before calling back to him to tell him he can come in. He looks shy in the bright light as he enters and sets down a pile of clothes on the counter, letting the boots he’s holding drop to the floor. “Um, Brandt is back from her post and I figured you might want clean clothes…” he trails off, wringing his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you smile at him before taking the pile and going into yours and Pope’s shared bathroom to change. Your stitches tug when you pull the shirt over your head and you grimace, trying to keep your breathing even for your lung’s sake. Looking in the mirror, you realize how exhausted you look and you can’t wait to shower back at the barracks. You pull your jeans before splashing water onto your short hair, trying to tame it. Frankie looks up when you come back in the room, and you think you see his eyes shine a little but he quickly looks away while you sit down next to him to pull on your boots.

“The team has a meeting later, but after that we were going to go to dinner at the mess and then that movie they’re showing in the warehouse. Figure there’s nothing better to do.”

You look over at him as you finish lacing your boots, arching a brow at him, “Catfish, are you asking me to come?” He startles and looks down at you, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I-I don’t want to be disrespectful, I just-“

“Yes, I’ll come with you,” your smile makes his blush deepen, his own smile playing at his lips. He stands up to his full height, waiting for you to finish, before grabbing his cover from the counter.

“Here,” he takes the ring gently and holds it out to you, expecting some sort of backlash, but you silently take it and tuck into your jeans pocket as you stand up. Against your protests, he picks up the bag with your cameras and salvaged clothing before holding the curtain open for you. The main door to the room is open and you blanche at the strong lights in the hallway. The hospital bustles around the two of you as you make your way to the entrance. He tugs his cover on before pushing the door open.

The heat from outside forces its way through the doors before you even step out into the blazing sun. The base is calm. The Beatles pours out of a radio near a handful of soldiers playing basketball on the make shift court which makes you smile, “Beau would be whining about getting his ass kicked out there.” You laugh, holding a hand to your brow, trying to block some of the light.

Frankie studies you before making his way towards the barracks and you fall into step beside him. He walks slow for your sake, afraid of making the wound in your side or your lung ache. “Are you okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, “Honestly?” He nods down at you, his cover blocking the sun from his eyes and you can’t help but feel slightly disappointed you can’t seem him in the sun fully. “I’m better than I have been in awhile. I miss him, but I miss the Beau I knew years ago. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

The song grows louder while you both walk past, and you hum the lyrics, Had it been another day I might have looked the other way…

Taglist: @amiedala @icanbeyourjedi

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x OC female #Triple Frontier #santiago pope garcia #Pedro Pascal characters

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edourado · 4 years

Text

Together, ch viii

This is probably the silliest thing I have ever written for these two.

Please don’t abandon me.

Much love.

----

“Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande are leading the charts”, Karen said one morning, while they both lounged in bed, after he decided - well, she persuaded him - to skip his jog just once.

“Hmm”, was his reply, eyes closed. “And they are...”

Karen chuckled, and he suspected she had already told him about those two people.

“Singers. Extremely famous.”

“Oh.”

It had become a running joke. She would read him pop culture news once and awhile, claiming he knew far too little about what went on outside his own life and general politics.

David was actually the cause for that. He had called one day, to give them updates on the puppies - now named Blake, the girl that belonged to Leo, and Iron, the boy that was Zach’s - and said something about someone called Black Pink, which turned out to be several someones.

“It’s this Kpop band, Leo plays their stuff non stop”, he told Frank, when he looked confused. And then, immediately, “Do you know what Kpop is?”

“Should I?”

And Karen thought that was so endearing, kissed him and said he was “adorably clueless”, and started reading him these news here and there, that he barely understood most of the time.

“You liked Lady Gaga”, she said, turning to look at him, a sliver of sun on her skin, from a gap in the curtains. “Remember, we watched that movie?”

“The, uh- with the girl that gets famous and the guy…”

“Yes.”

“That’s her, then. Ok.”

Another day, he was sitting at the door, while Leilani played with Pooka in the hallway, when she took out her phone and turned to him.

“Can I do a Tik Tok with him?”

Frank looked at her a little puzzled, and she showed him her phone. “Like a video? For the internet.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Karen came back from the walk with Lady and he asked her about it, after they all got inside again.

“It’s like Instagram, but mainly for teenagers, they do these challenges.”

He blinked.

“It’s social media, like Facebook and Twitter.”

She showed him said Tik Toks on her phone and he watched a few, only to declare “I don’t get it”, giving her phone back to her after a few minutes.

“You never tell me about people I know, like… Prince, he’s cool”, he said after she told him something about someone called Frank Ocean.

Karen blinked at him.

“Frank…” she started, her voice almost careful. “You know he- he died, right?”

“What- Prince did?”

“Yeah. A few years ago.”

That truly surprised him.

“Shit. How?”

He spent a few days in a controlled rage about that fact, and started going through a list of artists he knew and liked, checking they were still alive.

“Any more of the Beatles die?”

“No, they’re good.”

It was Karen’s turn to be surprised when she came home from her own jog one day, to find him sitting on the couch watching reality TV. The Kardashians, to be more specific.

They had watched the OJ Simpson season of American Crime Story, and she had explained to him that Robert Kardashian was the father of a very famous family that had a show that was still on.

“I thought it would be like… Different”, he explained when she asked, extremely intrigued, why he was watching that. “But they’re just… Famous because they’re famous, I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, no one does”, she said, walking to the bathroom to take her shower.

To Karen’s further surprise, he kept watching the show.

“That’s that rapper you told me about”, he said, when Kanye West showed up on the screen one day.

“Yeah, he’s married to Kim.”

“Will it last longer than her other marriage?”

The Kardashians became background noise for a while, and Frank’s knowledge in current pop culture improved greatly, and he spent a lot of time on his computer after Caitlyn Jenner transitioned, researching, Karen suspected.

Eventually, he stopped watching the show, claiming he couldn’t handle anymore.

“You know what you should watch?”

She sat down to watch Queer Eye with him, and while he didn’t cry once - like she had, the first time she watched it - he didn’t get distracted, sometimes commenting things like “That’s fucked up”, or “nice”, or laughing at something or other.

Frank sat through six Star Wars movies - which he knew about but had never watched - but was fidgety once he started on the more recent ones, turning his attention to the dogs almost immediately, giving up on actually finishing the saga.

He sat for almost an hour one day on a video call with Leo, while she explained to him what her favorite Kpop bands were and why.

“Do you understand what they say?” He asked, and Karen smiled, sitting at the desk, looking at her own computer.

“That’s what Google Translator and subtitles are for”, she girl replied. “And some of them speak English. And I’m actually picking up on some words, now. ”

Little Victor from upstairs told him that he was reading the Harry Potter books for the first time, and while Frank knew about the books, since his own kids had read them all, he knew next to nothing about it.

“I know Harry”, he told the boy, as always lying in his hammock, while Victor sat in his own fire escape, little legs dangling. “And there’s his friend, right? With the red hair?”

“His name is Ron”, said Victor.

“And there’s a girl, too. Her name’s complicated.”

He made Victor laugh while pretending not to know how to say the name “Hermione”, going “Herman? Herald? Horace?”, and the kid giggled.

Karen found him reading “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” in his hammock, after Victor lent it to him, before going inside to have dinner.

“It’s a kid’s book”, Frank whispered to her when she got out to join him.

“The first three are, very kiddy. But the other four are more mature. Stick to it, you’ll see.”

“You read it?” He asked, reaching out for her hand.

“Yeah”, she said, and then smiled. “When I was eleven. But!” She went on, when he made to argue that they were, in fact, kids books. “The last one came out when I was, like, nineteen, and I didn’t read it until I was twenty one, so there’s that. You’ll be fine.”

He read the three books that Victor lent him in two days, and told her that “shit was starting to get intense for Harry” after he finished the Goblet of Fire.

“Is he gonna end up with Hermione?” He asked during diner one night when Victor tossed him The Order of the Phoenix.

“I’m not gonna tell you!” Karen protested, putting a big spoonful of mashed potatoes in her plate. “Why? Do you want them to?”

“Nah”, he said. “I’m just asking, because I think her and Ron make more sense.”

“Aw. Do you ship Romione?”

He looked at her, swallowing a mouthful of steamed broccoli.

“Do I what the what?”

Karen smiled. “Nevermind.”

His pop culture knowledge hadn’t made it to the lingo yet.

#how do you think Frank would react to popculture?#kastle #kastle fluff #kastle ff #frank castiglione #karen page #the punisher #daredevil #quarantine drabbles

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years

Text

CMDN

A/N #1: So I got a request on my main blog to write a fic using “Fluff #12 and Misc #16 (or both!!)” from this list by @honeyboychangbin a week or two ago. Now, writing a regular fic takes time (way more time than a musical fic), and I obviously had to come up with something using one or both of those sentence starters. I went for both. This fic is actually actually part of my “A Week at Penny’s” series (Part 1 | Part 2). Also, two songs kinda inspired me while I was writing: “LDN” by Lily Allen and “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper.

------------------

After the traumatic night they had experienced, Alice, Rowan, and Penny woke up with bags under their eyes. Ben and Tonks were already with the rest of Penny’s family eating breakfast.

“Took you long enough to wake up,” said Tonks between two bites of her toast.

“Wonder why,” replied Penny as she glared at Tonks along with the other two girls.

“Oh… Right…” replied Tonks, flustered, as she remembered what had happened the previous night.

“I had a very weird dream last night,” said Ben, eating his cereal, as the other girls took their seat around the table. “Filch had the body of a teenage girl…”

“Keep telling yourself it was a dream,” muttered Penny, still glaring at Tonks, who had taken a page from the newspaper to hide behind.

“What?” asked Ben, turning to Penny.

“Nothing, nothing,” said Alice before Penny could reply. “Anyway, what are the plans for today?”

“I don’t know… Maybe we could visit a neighbourhood in London?” suggested Penny.

“You don’t say! I thought we would visit a neighbourhood in Glasgow,” said Tonks, her mouth full of bread and jam.

“You could use the Floo powder if you want to,” offered Penny’s mother.

“It’s ok, Mum. Nymphadora was just being sarcastic,” said Penny, smirking as she noticed Tonks scowling.

“Ok, dear. Well, I’m off to do some shopping with Beatrice. See you this evening,” said Penny’s mother as she left the flat with Beatrice.

“So, where should we go?” asked Penny.

“What about the British Museum?” suggested Rowan. “I’ve always wanted to see the Rosetta Stone!”

“Oh, please, no! Not a stuffy museum. We do enough learning during our time at Hogwarts, I just want to have some fun during the summer!” exclaimed Tonks.

“Come on, Rowan, there’s gotta be a neighbourhood in London you want to see?” asked Alice to her best friend. “And don’t say the neighbourhood of the British Museum,” added Alice as she noticed Rowan was about to say something before closing her mouth again.

“What about Camden? I heard it’s really edgy and there are loads of vintage clothes available that are dirt cheap!” suggested Tonks.

“Camden? I don’t know… Not really the safest area in London,” replied Ben.

“Camden? The British Museum is in the Borough of Camden,” chimed in Rowan.

“Yeah, but I think Tonks meant Camden Town, not the entire borough. The British Museum is in Bloomsbury,” explained Alice. “I think Camden Town would be fun. It would give me a reason to wear the Doc Martens Andre gave me for my birthday. I can’t really see myself walking around Chelsea with them.”

“But I heard there are drug dealers hanging outside the station,” said Ben.

“Ben, they won’t force you to buy anything, if they approach you at all,” reassured Penny, patting his hand.

“Not to mention my pink hair will fit right in,” chimed in Tonks, tousling her hair.

“I don’t know…” said Rowan, rubbing her arm as she looked away, worried.

“Awww, come on, Rowan. There are second-hand bookstalls…” said Alice, wiggling her eyebrows.

Rowan’s eyes lit up at the mention of books. “Really? Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Alice shrugged before looking at all her friends. “So, what do you guys say? Are you ready for a fun day in Camden Town?”

Everyone slowly turned to look at Ben, who looked defeated. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice…”

“That’s the spirit,” exclaimed Tonks, slapping Ben on the back.

Once they were done eating breakfast, the girls went back to Penny’s room to get ready while Ben headed to the bathroom. Rowan and Ben were the first two ready and they waited for the others in the living room.

“What is taking so long?” asked Ben, looking at his watch.

“Well, they were styling Alice’s hair into two buns at the top of her head before I came here, and I did hear Tonks say something about makeup, though Alice didn’t seem too keen…” started saying Rowan before being interrupted by a scream coming from Penny’s bedroom.

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST! STOP HITTING ME!” they heard Tonks shouting.

Penny popped her head in the living room, her hair in a high half ponytail, looking slightly embarrassed. “Won’t be much longer now. Just need to remove the makeup from Alice’s face…” As she walked away, Rowan heard her mumbling under her breath: “Tonks will definitely not become a makeup artist…”

Ten minutes later, the three girls arrived in the living room, all dressed up for Camden. Penny was wearing a denim miniskirt, with an off-the-shoulder neon top, paired with loose leg warmers and white sneakers. Tonks’ look was going for punk. She was wearing a Queens t-shirt, ripped denim shorts, fishnet stockings, and heavy-duty boots. She was also sporting a heavy dose of dark eyeshadow and black eyeliner. As for Alice, she was wearing a Beatles t-shirt, a slightly ripped pair of denim shorts, her Doc Marten boots in which Minnie Mouse socks were peeking out of. She also had a black and blue oversized checked flannel shirt tied around her waist.

“What the… Tonks, are you going to a costume party?” asked Rowan, staring at her friend.

“What? No! I just want to look like someone who hangs out in Camden all the time.”

“You look more like a tourist trying to pass off as a local,” pointed out Alice.

“And you look like a Sloane Ranger trying to pass off as edgy,” retorted Tonks.

“Ok, you two, we don’t need another argument like with Mario and Cluedo. Let’s get a move on, otherwise, we’ll be in Camden next year,” said Penny as she pushed Alice and Tonks toward the door, followed by Rowan and Ben.

They headed toward Highgate Station. As they waited for the tube on the platform, Tonks took out a little mirror from her pocket and started to frown as she looked at her reflection.

“I think I overdid it on the eyeshadow,” said Tonks.

“You think?” replied Penny, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not the only thing you overdid,” muttered Alice as she handed Tonks a tissue.

“Thanks,” grumbled Tonks, taking the tissue and trying to rub off the eyeshadow. Unfortunately, she handed up looking more like a raccoon than anything else. “Ugh! If only I could use Scourgify!”

“We are not allowed to use magic outside of school. Remember, we have the Trace,” reminded Rowan.

“More like the Curse if you ask me,” grumbled Tonks as Alice handed her a pair of sunglasses.

“I’m sure there’s a Boots in Camden where we can get our hands on some make-up remover,” said Alice as the train arrived.

“People keep make-up remover in their boots?” asked Tonks, but no one heard her due to the train.

They embarked on the train, and, four stations and some escalators later, found themselves outside Camden Town Station.

“So… Do I ask some random person wearing boots for some makeup remover?” asked Tonks looking around at the passersby.

“What? No! Boots is the name of a store! Really, Tonks, do you think Muggles keep various products in their boots,” said Penny, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know! I literally just saw one take out a little bag of pills from his boots and handing it to someone,” said Tonks, pointing toward a shady looking man near the station’s entrance.

“Eeek! Drug dealer!” exclaimed Ben before running toward the Boots.

“Tonks! Don’t point!” whispered Alice as she pulled Tonks’ arm down. As she glanced behind her, she noticed the strange man staring at them. “Ok. Everyone, just act normal and let’s walk quickly to Boots.”

Once inside Boots, Alice went to buy makeup remover while Penny was busy reassuring Ben and admonishing Tonks for her behaviour.

“It’s not that it’s a particularly dangerous neighbourhood, but please don’t point at people doing strange stuff. They can be quite unpredictable.”

“I knew we should have gone to the British Museum,” grumbled Rowan.

“It would be much safer,” agreed Ben.

“Penny already said it. Camden isn’t dangerous, but, like anywhere else in London, there are some unsavoury characters that are better left unprovoked,” explained Alice as she was putting her wallet back in her bag. “Now, let’s go out and enjoy our day, okay?” she added as she poured some make-up remover on a tissue and started getting the makeup off of Tonks’ eyes.

Once Tonks didn’t look like a raccoon anymore, they made their way toward Camden Market. Rowan and Alice stopped at a secondhand bookstall, while Tonks made a beeline to a vintage clothing store. Penny looked at the various crafts being sold while Ben stayed close to her. Eventually, they all joined up at the store where Tonks was, as she was still busy trying on clothes. The store’s employee seemed vaguely annoyed by all the clothes piling up in front of her fitting room.

“He’s so gorgeous, I think I’m gonna faint,” whispered Penny to Alice as she looked at the employee with a smile.

“Really?” replied Alice, only briefly glancing at him as she kept looking at clothes flying out of Tonks’ fitting room.

“Too bad there aren’t any guys like that at Hogwarts,” whispered Penny with a gleam in her eyes.

“That’s because they graduated. That guy is old. He’s probably, like, 20?” said Alice before returning her attention to Tonks. “Tonks! Are you going to choose something or are you trying to try every piece of clothing in the store?”

“Oh! I already picked what I want to buy for myself. Now, I’m trying to find some clothes that will traumatize Andre. His reactions anytime someone wears something he considers unfashionable are priceless!” explained Tonks, popping her head from behind the curtain.

Alice looked at her for a moment, remembering all the times Andre had judged her outfits, including the time he threw the September issue of Vogue at her and it landed on her head. “Take your time.”

With that, Tonks took twenty more minutes of trying on clothes, before making her final selection and buying it. Alice and Penny also convinced Ben to buy a t-shirt that looked good on him and Rowan had gone and bought a bagful of books. They then headed off to eat lunch at a fish and chip shop.

After lunch, they explored a bit more of the market and walked down Chalk Farm Road. Alice had placed some of the books Rowan had bought in her Boots bag as it was getting a bit heavy for Rowan to carry everything she had bought. Penny kept an eye on Ben who was very far from his comfort zone. The people he saw in Camden were miles away from what he was used to seeing in his town. Hairs of multiple colours, clothes with holes in them, ostentatious makeup, piercings in places other than ears, tattoos. Tonks looked perfectly normal compared to everything he was seeing. To the local crowd of Camden, Tonks did look like a tourist trying to pass off as local, just like Alice had said. As for Alice, Tonks was right. She mostly looked like a well-to-do girl having a slightly rebellious phase. Unfortunately, said phase wasn’t rebellious enough to let Tonks get a tattoo, as Rowan witnessed Alice dragging Tonks out of a tattoo parlour while she waited for Penny outside a vintage store.

“Awww, come on! I would look so cool with a tattoo!” complained Tonks as Alice pulled her out by the collar.

“You are 14, Nymphadora!”

“Don’t call me that! And I’m sure Tulip would approve!”

“Yeah, because little Miss Dungbomb is a paragon of reasonability… Anyway, can’t you make a tattoo appear on yourself with your whole Metamorphmagus abilities?”

Tonks stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Alice, blinking. Alice stared back for a moment before her eyes widened just as a smile was spreading across Tonks’ face.

“Oh no…”

“Thanks, mate! I never thought of that!” exclaimed Tonks, as she stared at her arm and started to concentrate.

“Wait! Not here! Muggles could see you,” whispered Alice between her clenched teeth as she grabbed Tonks forearm and dragged her inside the vintage store where Penny was.

“Please don’t tell me she plans on buying more clothes,” said Penny as she saw Tonks enter.

“No, I had to get her away from prying eyes while she was trying to give herself a tattoo,” said Alice loud enough for the store clerk to hear. She stared at her. She stared back, suddenly realizing how odd it sounded. “With a Sharpie,” added Alice before letting out a nervous laugh.

The clerk just raised an eyebrow before returning to what she was doing.

“That was a closed one… But how did she get the idea?” whispered Penny.

“Well…” Alice started, looking away.

“Alice…” said Penny, pursing her lips.

“I might have pointed out she didn’t need to go to a tattoo parlour to get a tattoo, her being a Metamorphmagus and all,” whispered Alice.

“Oh, Alice…” started saying Penny, pinching the bridge of her nose, before being interrupted by Tonks who was proudly showing her right wrist.

“Look! I gave myself a tattoo!” she exclaimed, resulting in the store clerk to stare at them again.

“What the… A duck?!” said Alice, too startled to notice the clerk staring.

“Why would you give yourself a duck?” asked Penny, also staring.

“I don’t know… It’s the first thing that came to mind…” grumbled Tonks.

“Woah! You got mad skills with a Sharpie!” exclaimed the store clerk as she looked over Penny’s shoulder.

“GAH!” let out Alice, startled. Merlin, they would be sent to Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy just because Tonks gave herself a duck tattoo!

“A Sharpie?” asked Tonks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh. Ummmm… You know, a permanent marker. Sorry, she’s really bad with brand names. Now, Alice, why don’t you take Tonks outside where Rowan is, while I pay for this shirt,” said Penny as she pushed her two friends towards the exit.

“Don’t forget your friend who’s hiding in the fitting room,” said the clerk, pointing at the closed fitting room from which you could see Ben’s sneakers peeking out from under the curtain.

A few moments later, Penny exited the store, holding a small bag as well as Ben’s arm.

“Ok, I think we can call it a day because I don’t think Ben can last any longer,” said Penny, glancing at Ben’s pale face.

“Sounds good to me,” said Alice, letting out a sigh of relief. Watching over Tonks in the Muggle world could be a handful.

They made their way back to Camden Town Station, where the drug dealer from earlier still was. As they passed him, they all avoided eye contact, except for Tonks, who waved at him, showing off her duck tattoo in the process. Once inside the station, they made their way to the platform but had to stop Ben from getting on a train heading in the wrong direction, as he was in such a hurry to leave Camden, he didn’t notice it was heading toward Edgware instead of High Barnet.

When they finally returned to Penny’s flat, Penny and Alice let themselves fall on the couch, looking tired. As Rowan went to drop her books in the bedroom, and Tonks and Ben settled down with Alice and Penny, Penny’s mother inquired about their day as she was preparing dinner in the kitchen. The two London natives looked at each other before saying: “It was… interesting.”

“I got a duck tattoo!” exclaimed Tonks.

Penny’s father looked up from his newspaper in astonishment, staring straight at the tattoo.

---------

A/N #2: First, here’s Alice’s outfit. Second, I feel like the quality of this fic is a bit of a rollercoaster. There were moments where I would be inspired and then, nothing, but the fic was far from being finished. Writing about wizards in the Muggle world is fun, but that story was coming to me in blurbs and music sequences. Oh, and this takes place in during the summer before their 4th year, hence why Ben is scared of everything.

#hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #jacob’s sibling #alice beaumont #penny haywood #rowan khanna #nymphadora tonks #ben copper #beatrice haywood #request #camden #london

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givemequeen · 5 years

Text

extra toothbrush ; teddy!george x reader

request: could u write something with george where he's helping the reader with homework? idk a/n: in this fic George’s siblings are off in uni or whatever they did after school. also what the fuck is the spelling of tough? like shouldn’t u read it as ‘tou’? and it would make more sense if it were ‘tuff’ in this easy i will- i actually kind of like this pairing: geo x reader summary: feeling hopeless about the homework and getting George to help you. warnings: nothing, stress about homework tho ALSO DO UR HOMEWORK/ PROJECTS, DONT LEAVE IT TO THE LAST DAY LIKE I DO year: ‘59? during school word count: 1,518

GUYS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT IT (if u do) SO I KIND WRITE MORE LIKE THAT

do you like sneaking out at night? the lil bathroom counter top thing? ^the one where reader wraps her legs around his waist? do you like the cuddling?

EVEN IF ITS LITTLE THINGS!! I WANT TO IMPROVE MY WRITING :)

You looked at the pile of papers you had on your table and sighed. You were never going to get this done and you shouldn’t have left this to the last day but here you were, stressing about you are never going to finish all the papers you had to write up. The clock on your wall read 9 pm, you had finished dinner and would have to go to sleep soon.

But when you would be able to go to sleep? Never. Because you were never going to finish your work in time. George lingered on the back of your mind, he sure as hell hadn’t finished it... unless? What if he had finished it? Maybe he could help you, even if he had not finished his homework he could help you, maybe you could get somewhere.

Without thinking twice you packed your homework in your bag and climbed out your window. “That was dumb.” you thought as you landed on the floor, your parents weren’t home, making you home alone, you could have walked right out the front door and no one would have said anything since no one was home to say anything.

In no time you were under George’s window and you were throwing pebbles at it. You saw the curtain pull back and the window opened. George looked around and down at you, a smile appearing on his face and then a frown. He was happy to see you but why were you here this late? George didn’t like it when you walked alone at night, he cared for you and your safety.

You climbed up to his window and slipped inside, your bag fell from your back but you didn’t care. Once he closed the window and turned to you you went to hug him, George laughed and fell back onto his bed. You cuddled onto his chest, his warmth and scent engulfing you and making you feel a hundred times better. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

“Everything alright love? Whatcha doing here this late?”

“I hate homework. I hate school. I hate everything.” you grumbled, your voice slightly muffled by his clothes.

“Even me?” he asked with a fake sad tone.

“Yes,” you said. “Joking, I love you,” you added quickly when you felt his chest quickly rise and fall due to his laughs.

“And I love you but what's wrong?” George asked as he ran his hand through your hair. You pulled back, slightly rasing yourself, your hands holding up your weight.

“I haven’t done the homework they set for tomorrow. But in my defence, they set it yesterday! I have a fucking life, don’t they know that? And other classes!” you complained before plopping down.

“Ow!” George grimaced in pain when you fell onto his stomach, your chin digging down.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“‘S alright, I’ll help you.” George offered, you arose once more this time with a smile on your face, not a pout.

“You finished it?” you asked excitedly.

“You think that highly of me?” he questioned, one of his eyebrows arching in surprise.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” you stuck out your tongue to him.

“Wow thank you so much yn. Very mature.” George said, you got off him and smiled proudly. He laughed and followed you as you went to pick up your bag. “Lets do this then.” you nodded and emptied your bag on his carpeted floor. You sat down cross-legged and George picked up his work before copying your moves. “Alright, take a look at what I’ve done and we can go from there...”

Doing homework with George went by rather quickly and by the end of the session you were so fucking tired. You had a book on your lap, your head on George’s thighs. He had his back against the side of his bed, his legs extended and he was looking down at you. You had closed your eyes but they fluttered open when he stroked your cheek. “Hmm?” you asked as you turned to face his stomach.

“We’re done,” he whispered not wanting to fully wake you up.

“I don’t want to go back home,” you complained and wrapped your arms around his torso. “It’s far away and it's cold and you’re warm and it's lonely.”

“Stay here.” this made you open your eye.

“What?” you asked suddenly much more awake.

“Sleep over here, with me, don’t go back home,” George repeated pushing your hair out of your face. You propped yourself up on your hand and smiled

“Won’t your parents mind?”

“I doubt they’ll see you, they usually go to work before I leave the house. And if they did, they wouldn’t mind, probably be pissed at me for having a girl over and having you climb in through the window...” George said with a contagious laugh. “But never you, they love you.” you beamed at his last remark and leaned forward to kiss him.

“Wait, I don’t have any clothes,” you said groaning and falling back onto his lap.

“You can use my t-shirt to sleep in.”

“And for school tomorrow?”

“We could...” he trailed his fingers up your stomach. “Skip first period, go to yours and get your clothes?” his fingers went up to your nose, he bopped them garnering a delighted smiled from you.

“Sounds like a plan.” you both got off the floor. George walked over to his wardrobe while you sat down on the bed.

“Here you go.” he stuck out his hand, you grabbed onto the t-shirt but he didn’t let go. Instead, George pulled you up, his other hand went around your back and pulled you against his body. You gasped at the sudden moves. He finally let go of the t-shirt and used the same hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “You are so fucking beautiful and intelligent yn, I love you so much,” George whispered, you blushed and looked away from him. He gently cupped your chin and made you look up to him. “Never forget that, alright?”

“I won’t, I love you too Geo.” his hand went up to your cheek and you leaned against it, sighing contently at the warmth and your eyes closed. “You are so talented, the way you work that guitar of yours... And you’re so handsome, so cute, my little baby boy.” you opened your eyes to find a massive grin on his face.

“I’m not cute, I’m tough,” he said pouting.

“Oh yes, my tough teddy boy.” you stood on your tippy-toes to kiss his lips.

“Go get changed.” George laughed letting go of you. You walked away and squeaked when he pinched your bum.

“George!” you hissed as you slipped into his bathroom.

“What?” he retorted, his hands up in defeat. Once you came out he had also changed into his pyjamas.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you asked him.

“Yeap, under the sink.” George followed you to the bathroom and opened a new toothbrush for you. Just like with the t-shirt he didn’t give it right away. You went to take it but he pulled apart. “Give me a kiss.” you rolled your eyes but gave it anyway.

“Thank you,” you said once he gave the toothbrush to you.

“No problem my love,” George answered as he put toothpaste on both toothbrushes. You both brushed your teeth and it took much longer than expected, you could stop laughing at the faces George was pulling. But you finally managed to rinse your mouth and get ready for bed. You sat on the counter, your hands tucked under your thighs, as George finished up. He walked in front of you and situated himself in between your legs.

You wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer to your body. Your hands snaked around his neck and his hands went around your waist. George’s eyes scanned your face, his eyesight shifted from one of your eyes to the other before landing on both. “God, you’re so beautiful yn.” he groaned, one of his hands went to the side of your face and he pulled back any hairs that might have landed on your face blocking his view.

George peppered your faces with kisses earning amused giggles from you. He picked you up and walked you out of the bathroom, with his foot he closed the door of the bathroom and later on turned off the lights. You cuddled onto him and whined when he gently set you down on the bed. But you weren’t apart for long, after turning on the light on his bedside table and the main light of the room off, George joined you in bed.

He tugged the covers and pulled them over the both of you. Once you were both warm and cozy he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close, your back pressed against his chest. His heartbeat was thumping against your back and it soothed you. “Goodnight my love,” George whispered once the light was shut off.

“Goodnight Georgie.”

tag list;

@thebeatleswritings @beatlevmania @i-love-queen-3000 @brians-metaphor26 @honimello @julessworldd @storiesfrommirkwood @beatles-babee @geostarr @thiccjelly17 @crab-king-69 @in-the-frap-of-the-gods

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