sorry about your parents

  • Ren: ...and that was the day I met Nora.
  • Ruby: Wow. You two had already been through so much before you even met each other and Ren, I'm so sorry about what happened to your parents.
  • Ren: Thank you, Ruby. Destroying the Nuckelavee has brought me a long awaited sense of peace.
  • Nora: Yeah and a date with me, finally! Honestly you can be so clueless at times.
  • Ren: I'm the clueless one? Who thought I was a girl for the first three years of knowing each other?
  • Nora: Hey! It's not my fault! The long hair and pink stripe threw me off.
Sorry About Your Parents
Icon For Hire
Sorry About Your Parents

Icon For Hire - Sorry About Your Parents (Icon For Hire)

I’m sorry about your parents, they sound like bad people
Your daddy sounds like a jerk
I guess your mama didn’t know the gift she got when she got you
I’m sorry about your life, you had it pretty rough
Bending over backwards, never good enough
You poor thing, it must suck to be you
And I know it’s not your fault, it never is, is it?

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

I get it, give me a little credit
I remember when I was that pathetic
Wear my scars on my sleeve, for all the world to see
Like look what they did to me quick, lay on the sympathy thick
You probably have the right to feel how you do
You were mistreated and cheated out of the childhood you needed
And now you’ll never succeed if you’re so convinced you’re defeated
If you’re obsessed with your yesterday then you’re destined to repeat it
And I know it’s not your fault, it never is, is it, is it, is it?

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

{PART 5} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut 

Summary; You’re hesitant to reveal your painful past to Jungkook, but time gets cut dreadfully short when Jungkook excuses himself upon receiving an interesting phone call.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5} {Part 6}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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anonymous asked:

Ok, so like if they had done an actual cap 3 instead of cw where sam and steve went after bucky and you go to write how that would go down, how would you have had the reunion/recovery go? do you think bucky would' want to be found?

I’m on mobile so I’ll have to format this later and put a read more in, but here’s what I would have wanted. Again, it’s long, I’ve thought about this at length.

We would have seen Steve and Sam, probably in Sam’s apartment reading and rereading files, crossing out leads, there’s a map with locations marked and also crossed out, Sam’s on the phone about another possible lead. Steve looks kinda defeated, it’s been 2 years and still he feels like they’re no closer than they were in 2014. Sam hangs up the phone, sits down next to Steve and says something like “Hey man, when he wants to be found then we’ll find him, and I got a pretty promising lead in Romania that says tin man is ready.” And Steve’s all “Sam, you gotta stop calling him tin man” - but he’s already collecting stuff to get ready to leave. And Sam’s close behind him like “Fine, how’s Robocop? Terminator? Man with the Midas touch?” “His arm isn’t gold Sam, can we go?”

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Hades!Harry pt. 1

  A/N: “Could you write about Hades!Harry??xx” I’ve never written anything like this before but i was so excited to step out of my comfort zone. I got a bit carried away so there will be a Part 2. Enjoy!


    Y/n didn’t find herself in scary situations that often. Her days consisted of tending to the crops, making sure her younger siblings are fed three times a day, and treading the two hour journey to the nearest market to sell anything she possibly could for extra cash. Her routine had been this way since her parents were killed out at sea a year ago. That’s all she knows; no major details or even a chance to bid them farewell.  

   They left, one morning, with the intention to trade goods with villagers that resided a couple hundred miles east of the Atlantic. They promised her and her two younger brothers that they would return in a month’s time. Unfortunately, the day after they departed, Y/n received a knock at the door and an unsealed letter with no return address stating that her Mother and Father had died. 

  “Ship caught fire. There were no survivors, sorry for you loss” 

    Y/n had been only seventeen at the time, but her wisdom was well beyond her years. It was that very wisdom that allowed her to take charge of the household and become the new guardian for her brothers. She wouldn’t call the death of her Parents ‘scary’. Incredibly tragic? Yes. But she had been raised to take on challenges when they’re thrown at her.

   The girl always stood by that, even when she found herself being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by two dark figures. She kicked, flailed and scratched every chance she got. There was no way they would take her without a fight. The brawny black figures had managed to pin her down to the bed and tie her hands behind her back with chains. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face as they picked her up and made their way towards the door. She began to wonder how she had not heard them break the door down. 

 'God I’m so stupid’ she thought to herself, though she knew very well that even if she had heard them break into the cottage, she would’ve ended up in the very same position.

   Just before they carried her passed the boys’ room, she was able to peek in and see that they were staring back at her in sheer terror. Her heart broke. She was helpless and she knew they felt the same. It was obvious that whoever these people were, didn’t take an interest in the children and that was the only bright side she could find in this predicament. They throw her in the back of a horse-pulled carriage, one of the men stayed in the back to make sure she didn’t escape somehow. The floor of the carriage was covered in dirt and hay, the walls of it were just high enough to hide her from anyone passing by.

   The man beside her, who she could now see was wearing all black armor, proceeded to tie a cloth of some sort across her mouth to prevent any screaming. He left her nose exposed, which gave her the idea that they wanted her alive for some reason. 

 Numerous hours later

 The sun began to rise and she regained consciousness. She didn’t remember falling asleep but she couldn’t blame herself, she’s human.  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, which caused her to hit the top of her head on the wooden barrier. “mmh!” She groaned in pain; the man that had sat with her the entire night, flashed her an unapologetic smile. A few seconds later she was being lifted once again and pulled out of the cart. 

  She took this opportunity to look around and try to figure out where the hell they had taken her. It was like nothing she’d ever seen.

 Before her, stood a castle, bathed in charcoal colored bricks and dressed with Gargoyles at the large, Redwood double-doors. Her feet were still bare and she couldn’t help but wince every time she stepped on a pebble. The armor clad men showed no remorse as they pushed and pulled her every which way. The doors opened slowly, almost as if the structure itself had been expecting her.

  Once inside, her feet were brought relief by the cold marble flooring in the corridor; her eyes darting across the room. She spied million dollar paintings, two grand stair cases, and several stone pillars that kept the manor standing. It was hard to miss the other knight-like men who were posted at just about every corner. Without a moment to think she was, yet again, being guided rather roughly to a location that remained unknown to her. She gave up fighting a long time ago, figuring that if she kept her sanity in tact, she may be able to think up a way to save herself or find someone who can.

  They dragged her up the set of stairs to the left, and through a massive hallway. The walls in this particular area were made, not of wood or stone, but of skulls. Hundreds, possibly thousands of skulls, bound together to form a wall. She wondered how they did it, and if those people had been killed for that dumb reason. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if her head would be an addition to the foyer. After examining the enclosure, she decided to look straight ahead. 

There at the end of the hallway, was another set of cherry colored doors. one door was slightly ajar and it allowed her to peek inside, the same way she did as she passed the room of her brothers not so long ago. She saw what looked to be a bed, a big one; garmented in a duvet the color of blood.

A bedroom?

They dropped her, upon their arrival to the room. They finally removed the chains from her arms as well as the cloth from her mouth. She fell to the floor, her arms covered in bruises and welts. She turned to face the men and opened her mouth to demand answers but was cut off off by the sound of another. A deep, raspy voice; coming from somewhere in the spacious room. 

“So glad you could make it”

She turned back to face the front, eyes locking with a man. He was tall and fit. He was someone she had seen before, she just couldn’t put her finger on where. “do i- hmm” she started but had stop and clear her throat, it had been hours since she had some water. “do i know you?” she asked, sheepishly. Something about his presence intimidated her.

“Yes and no” he smirked. He sauntered over to where she was sitting on the ground, rubbing at her sore arms. He crouched down to her level “you’ve probably seen me in an old carving or something of the sort” he ran his index finger across her jaw. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘i’m Harry. Although, if we’re being cordial I should give you my real name” he sighed. “Hades, lord of the underworld”. He studied the blank expression she was giving him. 

“I mean I added that bit about the underworld. Has a nice ring to it” he stated She still said nothing. “I’m not fond of it either, that’s why I make people call me Harry” he smiled before standing. She stared up at him, swallowing what moisture she had left in her dry mouth. 

“oooh don’t look at me like that” he chuckled. biting his bottom lip.

She clears her throat again “Why am I here?” her voice is smaller than its ever been. Part of her hoped he didn’t hear, afraid of how he would react. “Well, doll” He breathed. “I’ve been lonely for quite some time now. I used to have a lovely wife but….let’s just say….I let my temper get the best of me one evening” he snickered. She heard the men behind her stifle their laughter as well. 

“Anyways, i want another but I have standards. I’m five thousand years old, i’m not getting any younger and I know what you’re going to say ‘Harry you don’t look a day over twenty-three!’” he shrilled in a high pitched nasally voice. 

“I wasn’t going to say any-”

“Shh! I haven’t finished my monologue” he interjects. She, boldly, rolled her eyes.

“Long story short, you’re a smart, headstrong, young woman. I started watching you after your parents died…sorry about that by the way it wasn’t my intention” he confessed. Her eyes widened but she was frozen in shock by what she  had just heard. She waited for him to explain what he meant by that.

“I had gotten in a fight with Poseidon and it got a little out of hand I really am sorry, darling” his voice was filled with atonement. He looked back to her, searching for any sign of forgiveness. Even though was was the god of all things bad, he still possessed somewhat of a heart. She nodded, sensing a little bit of guilt in his words.

“What i’m trying to say here is, You’re my new Wife!” he declared. 

CAUGHT IN A LIE || PART 2

PARTS: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // epilogue

Pairing: Jimin x reader
Words: 7,760
Genre: smut, angst, supernatural au.
click here for warnings by part (potential spoilers).

When playing the lying game, there are but two rules. The first is to be convincing. Live the lie, breathe the lie, believe it so wholeheartedly it becomes your new truth. The second is to always remember there are other players in the game, some of whom have been playing it far longer than you.

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Imagine helping Steve & Bucky escape the airport

Part 1- Imagine seeing Bucky pull Steve from the water  

Part 2 - Imagine waiting for Steve to wake up

Part 3- Imagine being there when Steve finally talks to Bucky

Part 4- Imagine being in the car with Bucky and Sam

Part 5 - Imagine helping Steve & Bucky escape the airport

Part 6 - Imagine telling Tony where Steve was

Part 7 - Imagine Steve busting you out

Part 8 - Imagine finding out about Tony’s parents

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Protégé (M) [Part 5]

Originally posted by jjks

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Part 4]

Warning: Mentions of violence

Words: 10,882

When your phone receiver buzzed, you were poised and ready, jabbing your index finger against the speaker button. “Yes?”

“Morning, ma’am.” Jaebum’s voice drifted through the device, as cheerful as it always was, despite it just being a couple hours past sunrise. 

“Good morning, Jaebum.” You murmured, only filling the small gap of silence before he continued with what you’d been dreading to hear all morning.

“There’s someone here to see you,” He continued and you slowly exhaled. “A Miss Sorin Park.”

Your tongue glided over the edges of your teeth and back again, buying yourself time to settle the simmering annoyance that had been bubbling within you since last night. “Send her up.”

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SS as things said Pt 5
  • Morality: I am now your parent, sorry kid can't do a thing about it. Dinner'll be ready at 5
  • Prince: My hair looks great, therefore I win this argument.
  • Logic: Why are you mixing biology and football, that is like mixing a gift from above ever with Satan
  • Anxiety: If this is right I'll high five myself, if it's wrong I'll cry.
For The Love Of Harry, Part Two

Winter was definitely in full swing in London. The cold winds cut straight through a person with no apologies. You are not a winter person at all, and often wonder why you continue living in London when you would fit more appropriately in a year-round, warm-weathered climate. But you had to admit, you had fallen deeply in love with England since moving here a couple of years before. The architecture, the romance, your job, the people you worked with and had become friends with, the lifestyle. You love being surrounded by people who are so unlike those you grew up with in the US. And if you are being honest, you kind of enjoy being the only American among all of your friends. You like for your friends and acquaintances to ask you what something was like for you when you were growing up, and discover the similarities and differences between the two lifestyles.

As you came off the tube and walked toward your office, you were suddenly wondering why you had chosen to wear a dress and heels today The cold wind shot straight up your skirt, making you cringe and cuss as you eventually find your way through the front door of your office building. You swear it wasn’t that cold when you left your house this morning, that the temperature must have dropped 20 degrees since then. As the elevator door opens on your floor, you step out and smile and greet your co-workers as you pass them, exchanging pleasantries with each, then finally plopping down in your desk chair. You were grateful at that very moment for the heating vent that was directly under your desk. You kicked off your heels and placed your feet atop the vent, removing your coat but draping it around your bare legs and tucking it around, so that the heat from the vent traveled delicately up under your coat.

“Ooooh, that’s goooood,” you moan to yourself, with your eyes closed.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you a moment?” you hear your best friend, Kari, say.

“Yes!” you tease. “How are you today?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” she replied. “Well, I could, but who the fuck really cares, right? Why in hell did you wear a dress today? Do you not watch the forecast, love?”

“No tv, remember?” you remind her.

Kari rolls her eyes at you. “Never did understand that. What do you do in your free time if you aren’t watching the telly?”

“Not everyone likes tv watching, Kar,” you say.

“Nonsense,” she replies. “It’s a conspiracy to say such things. Shame on you for spreading false gossip.” You smile at her. “By the way, TJ wants your piece by the time you leave tonight. I hope you’ve got most of it done.”

You look at her surprised. “What? I was supposed to have until Friday!” you complain.

“Chance of bad weather by end of week,” she explains. “He wants everything ready just in case.”

“Fine,” you spew like a 4 year old conceding. “Go away, then. I’ll never finish it with you distracting me.”

“It’s a curse, this beauty,” she says teasingly as she leaves your desk and walks back to her own.

For the rest of the day you work diligently on your article. You have never in your life missed a deadline, and you weren’t about to begin now. By mid-afternoon you had barely taken a break from your work to even use the restroom, and had munched on only an apple and some almonds at your desk as your lunch. As you work on citing your sources and polishing what you have written, you have a cold chill that you think must have a life of its own as someone somewhere in the office has apparently opened a door that allowed a freezing breeze to flow through the room. You blow hot air into your cold hands and bend at the waist in your chair, trying to be as close to the heating vent at your feet as you possibly can, your forehead pressing against the edge of the desk top. As you groan at the amazing feel of the warm heat, you hear a familiar voice.

“You alright there, love?” Harry asks, giggling. You immediately sit straight up, nearly knocking your wheeled chair backward and catching yourself before you can fall in the floor. Harry’s eyebrows lift as he laughs from surprising you. “Sorry!”

You grin, shaking your head. “No worries,” you reply. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I was in the neighborhood visiting with a friend and realized this is your office building,” he answers, still smiling. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in without calling you first. Hadn’t seen you in awhile and thought I’d see how you are.”

“Oh!” you smile back at him. “I’m doing fine, thanks. How are you? Staying busy?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Staying quite busy, actually,” he answers. “Hey, what time do you get off work?”

“I just have to finish this article then I’m free,” you reply. “Maybe 10 more minutes?”

“Great! I thought since I was in the neighborhood anyway, I’d see if you could use a lift home,” he grins. “You mentioned awhile back you haven’t a car now. Can’t imagine the walk to the station is a fun one in that wind…and in a dress.”

Looking like you must have been an idiot for wearing it today. “Yeah. Didn’t realize it was so cold out when I left, and I was running late. Here, sit in that chair and I’ll finish this, then we can go. Thanks!”

In a few more minutes, someone walks to your desk. “You never told us you know Harry Styles!” the co-worker beamed.

Another employee steps forward to talk, too. “If I’d known you knew Harry, I’d have asked you to get me an interview a long time ago! How ‘bout it, Harry?”

“Back, you vultures!” you yell at them. “Shoo! Shoo! He didn’t come here to get harassed by you. He gets that enough. Why do you think I never told you I know him? Now, go away, all of you!” You smile as they all say something to Harry then walk away, but continue looking at him off and on. He’s used to it, but you deliberately didn’t tell people you knew him for that very reason.

After another moment, you save and send your completed article and slide your feet back into your heels. “Done!” you announce to him. “Sorry about earlier, Harry.”

“Not a problem, love, I assure you. I’m used to it, but thanks for that,” he smiles and stands. He helps you put your coat on then you pop your head into your supervisor’s office. “Goodnight.”

“I need your article before…” he starts.

“Check your inbox,” you smile. “See you tomorrow!”

You turn and smile at Harry as he follows you out of the office. You walk outside and, after getting into his car, he starts it and turns up the heat. “Won’t take long for the heat to kick back up,” he grins.

You chit chat during the once-familiar drive to your home. Your car was one that Alex had leased in his name, so you weren’t terribly surprised the day the towing company showed up and drove away with it. You realized you didn’t really miss having a car, and decided public transit would work fine for you. As Harry parks his car, you invite him for dinner.

“Harry,” you look at him, “I seem to recall that I owe you dinner. Are you free this evening?”

“I am, actually,” he smiles. “Are you sure? Kind of last minute, if that’s a problem.”

“No problem,” you shake your head. “I put a pot of stew in the slow cooker before I left this morning. Should be ready now.”

“I would love to then!” he agrees. You both go inside and you change out of your work clothes and into something warmer and more comfortable. As you come back downstairs, you see Harry in the kitchen, ladling soup into two bowls and searching for the correct drawer to find spoons.”

“One more over,” you instruct him. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough for a few meals with this cold weather.”

“Starving,” he said honestly. “Didn’t get lunch today, had a meeting. It looks and smells delicious!”

“Thanks,” you answer. “My mom used to make it every winter. Has a way of really warming your insides.”

You both sit at the table after you fix both of you a glass of wine, and enjoy the food. “It’s really good!” Harry says with a smile. “I’ve missed your cooking. Especially your grilling. Gonna have to do that again sometime. When the weather isn’t so bad, of course.”

“We absolutely will” you say. “So, tell me how you’ve been? Work and whatever else you’ve been doing that’s kept you so busy.”

“Loads of work,” he sighs. “Doing a lot of writing and some studio work. Spent some time in LA for awhile, tying up some loose ends and seeing friends.

“That sounds nice,” you grin.

“Do you ever get back to the states to see family and friends?” he asks.

“Don’t have any family anymore,” you answer. “And I’ve not seen my friends, but we video chat every now and then. Can’t really leave my job for that long, and neither can they.”

“No family?” he asks, surprised. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” you grin again. “My parents passed several years ago. They had no siblings and neither did I.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” he says, genuinely feeling sad about it. He can’t imagine not having his family in his life.

“Long time ago,” you assure him. “More stew?” you ask, seeing he’s finished.

“Not sure where I’d put it,” he laughs, rubbing his belly. “That was really filling!”

“My dad used to call it a “stick-to-your-ribs” meal. Filling and nourishing, get someone through a cold winter kind of meal,” you explain.

“Exactly,” he says. “Wouldn’t mind taking a bowl of it home, though, if that’s alright?” he asks, giving you a puppy dog look.

“Absolutely!” You’re happy he asked. “Except for the nights that Kari comes begging for something to eat, I don’t get to cook for anyone anymore. Kind of miss it sometimes.”

Harry laughs. “Sweetheart, anytime you want someone to cook for, please call me!” You both laugh as you ladle soup into a container and seal it with a lid, then put the remaining soup into a container for the fridge. You quickly wash the dishes and Harry insists on helping. As you finish, you both dry your hands on opposite ends of a kitchen towel as you smile at each other.

“Harry, I don’t know what you need to do now, but I was thinking about watching a movie,” you announce. “Interested? I don’t have a tv, but I watch on my computer. I’m a sucker for a good romantic comedy.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised that she asked. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” you say, walking into the living room. You start a fire in the fireplace for some added warmth and ambiance, then grab your computer and together you choose a movie to watch, setting it on the coffee table in front of you both. Harry pours you both another glass of wine, setting the near empty bottle on the table. You both enjoy the movie, laughing and feeling sappy. When it finishes, you close the laptop and look at Harry. “Have another bottle of wine if you want more?”

“As much as I would love that, babe, I should be going,” he says, looking out the darkened window at the night sky. “Seems to be coming down again. Think the snow is never going to end, I swear.”

“Pretty to look at, but not so fun when you have to get out in it,” you say.

You both stand, Harry grabs his leftovers, and you walk with him to the front door. “Thank you for dinner. Always delicious,” he smiles.

“You’re welcome,” you nod. “Thank you for the ride home, and for keeping me company on a cold wintery night.”

“Anytime,” he says, then leans to you and gives you a hug for a long moment. “I love spending time with you.” He pulls back a bit, looking into your eyes. “I’d love to do it again sometime real soon.”

“I’d love that, too,” you slow-blink at him flirtingly. As you both look at each other longingly, you secretly hope he kisses you. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes, then grins slightly as he pulls away, releasing your hug. You’re disappointed, but you never expected Harry Styles to be interested in you that way. He was your friend, and up until a few months ago, he was the best friend of your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t think they were friends anymore after what happened, but you honestly had no way of knowing. You had cut off all ties to Alex after you kicked him out, only seeing him once since then when he came to pick up the rest of his things.

“Stay warm, love,” Harry smiled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, then kissing you quickly on your cheek.

“You too, Harry,” you say. “Let me know next time you need to be cooked for,” you smile and he laughs.

“I will, I promise,” he says, then opens the door and quickly walks out to his car and jumping inside. He waves to you through the front glass as the wipers brush off the fresh layer of snow, then backs out and drives away. You close the door, thinking about the evening. If all Harry wanted was to be your friend, you would accept that. You liked being friends with him. You may have to learn how to squash down the butterflies that seem to flutter inside of you when he looks at you a certain way, or when he laughs at something you say, but you wouldn’t pursue more if you thought he didn’t want it, too. Or at least you would try.

*

Finally a bit of a break in the cold weather! You were only half-way through winter, so a nice warm interruption was just what you needed. You loved when you had a beautiful spring-like day when technically it should be blustery and…well, winter.

It was the weekend and you had already decided to be productive over your warm weekend by painting the spare room of your home that has needed a new, fresh look since you bought the house two years before. You could never get Alex to do it, even when he would say, “No, don’t do it. I’ll get to it eventually!” So today you were taking matters into your own hands.

As you prepare the room by taping the windows and trim, making sure you have all the supplies you need, you realize you forgot the ladder in the garage. One of the purchases that Alex absolutely had to have for all the things he wanted to do to your house. You walk into the garage and see it still hanging on the hooks on the wall, where it’s been since the day he bought it. You shake your head and chuckle slightly, then start to grab it from the wall when you hear your doorbell. You leave it and jog back through the door, into the house, and quickly to the front door and open it.

“Hey!” Harry says, cheerfully. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?

“It is!” you smile at how happy he is. “How are you, Harry?”

“I’m doing great. How are you?” he asks, as he kisses your cheek, his hand on your waist.

“Doing fine, thanks,” you say. “Want to come in?”

“Thanks!” He does and closes the door behind him. “You busy?” he says as he notices the rag on your shoulder and your hair pulled up into a messy bun, old comfy clothes adorning your body.

“Um, sort of…” you say, biting your bottom lip. “I’m painting my spare room today. Taking advantage of the beautiful day so I can open the windows.”

“Really?” he raises his brow. “Care for some help?”

“You want to spend this beautiful, sunny, non-snowy, non-cold day, inside my spare room doing manual labor?” you ask, teasingly.

“I do!” he laughs. “Got nothing better to do. And I’m already here, aren’t I?”

“Well, as long as you don’t mind, I welcome the help,” you thank him. “Come on!”

He follows you to the garage and grabs the ladder off the wall and carries it up the steps for you. It’s a bit comical watching Harry try to not bust holes in the walls along the way as he bumps this one then that one. You gasp and put your hands over your mouth a couple of times, trying to help guide him, until finally he makes it through the door of the spare room.

“Success!” he laughs, setting the ladder up in the middle of the room. “Was easy,” he jests, as he sees the look on your face and you chuckle.

“Ooook!” you say, changing the subject and he laughs. “So, this is the wall color, and this is the trim color.”

“Like that!” he nods. “Will look good in here, too. What is this room going to be?”

“I’m going to set up my music stuff over here on this side, and my workout stuff on this side,” you explain. “It’s been too cold to go all the way in to my gym, or to go for a run, so I’m going to make it so I can have a good workout here.”

“And what music things do you have?” he asks, curious.

“My keyboard and guitar stand, my turntable and vinyls, and….” you think, trying to remember, “Oh, and since it’s a large room, I want to put maybe a little sofa or something in here for when I’m reading or writing. Bit of a hobby room, I guess.”

He looks at you curiously. “A side of you I did not know. How does that happen?”

“Don’t know,” you shake your head and smile. “Embrace the mystery. I guess most of the time when we were around each other, you were probably hanging around Alex and the boys more than around us girls.” You shake the paint cans well and open them, pouring paint into a tray for the rolling, and into a smaller container for painting around the trim. “Roll, or cut-in around the trim?” you ask him.

He is still looking at you, not realizing he didn’t even know you were musically-inclined. He finally snaps out of it, “What?”

“Do you want to roll onto the walls? Or would you rather do the cutting-in around the edges?” you ask.

“Oh,” he says, “Um, I’ll roll.” He grabs the roller pole and gets it covered well, then starts painting the walls while you start the rest. As you both paint, you have music playing from another room and you both sing along as you work.

“So, love,” he says, “I don’t mean to bring up a sore subject, but have you seen Alex since you broke up with him?”

“Um,” you dip your brush into your cup of paint, “Yeah.”

“Really?” he is surprised. You were so angry with him that night. He still remember the punches you landed on your ex, and smirks thinking about them.

“Yeah, only once,” you say. “I texted him to come get the rest of his things, a couple of weeks later.”

“How’d that go?” he asks as he paints.

“How do you think it went?” you look at him as he looks at you, knowing. “I had all of his things setting out in front of the garage doors, so he was none too happy about that. I didn’t want to see him or talk to him, but he used his key to get into the house. I hadn’t thought about changing the locks yet, so it freaked me out a bit when he unlocked the door and came in before I could put the latch on the door.”

“Did he?” he looks at you, concerned. “He didn’t, like, cause any trouble, did he?”

You sigh a deep sigh. “Not really.”

“Not really?” he asks, stopping what he was doing and looking at you. You look at him and frown a bit.

“He begged me to take him back,” you admit. “Tried to…cozy up to me.”

“Tried to seduce you,” he states, more to the point.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I guess so. But, that wasn’t going to happen, and I let him know that, in so many words, pissed him off once again, and he stomped around the house, looking to see what I had no doubt kept of his that I apparently wanted.” You roll your eyes. “Like I need or want his crap. Yeah, I really want your porn magazine collection, you big perv.” Harry giggles, but doesn’t like you having to deal with Alex. “When he couldn’t find anything of his in the house, I waited until he was outside the door, then slammed the door in his face when he turned to talk to me, and I locked all the locks and put the latch on. When he started beating on the door, I threatened to call the police if he didn’t take his things and go.”

“What an ass,” Harry says. “He used to be a fun guy, but he’s changed a lot, I think.” You nod and keep painting.

“You’ve not seen him or talked to him then?” you ask him.

“No, and I’m glad,” he admits. “He texted me later that night, and for a couple of days after, wanting to try and talk and still be friends or whatever, but I didn’t answer and haven’t heard from him since.”

“Like Kari said, good riddance,” you say without looking at him as you continue to paint.

You both continue to paint for hours until finally, the room is completely finished, and you are both tired and paint-splattered. You finish what you are doing and turn and see Harry lying in the middle of the floor on his back, his hands on his ribs with his eye closed.

“Good God, I’ve killed Harry Styles,” you tease, as he laughs and opens his eyes. You walk to where he is and lay down next to him. “It looks good, doesn’t it?” You look around the room and so does he.

“Yeah, it really does,” he agrees. “We do good work!” He lifts his arm for a high-five, which you return, and he moans from how sore his arms are from painting, and you giggle. He smiles and looks at you, thinking you look beautiful, even with paint on your face and in your hair. He smiles as he notices a spot of paint on your nose. He uses his finger to wipe it away, not realizing he has even more paint on his finger, which smudges down your nose. Your eyes get huge as you look at him and he draws his lips into his mouth and shoots his eyebrows high, then giggles. You giggle, slyly dipping your finger into your paint cup which is setting near you, and trace your finger right down his cheek.

“No, you didn’t,” he says as you giggle. “I can’t believe…” he says, as he leans up on his elbow, crossing his arm across your stomach and quickly dipping his finger into your paint cup, then doing the same to you along your cheek and jaw. You both laugh as you lay under him, and he looks at you with a smile. He looks into your eyes, to your lips, then slowly lowers himself to your mouth, taking your lips to his own. He kisses you softly, tasting your kiss in return, then pulls back and looks at you again, to make sure you were okay with him kissing you. You lift the corners of your mouth slightly, enough for him to know you were definitely alright with his risk-taking. He leans to you once again, kissing you deeply, his hand on your ribs, then your waist, pressing his body against yours. You feel his hand caress you as you taste each other, your tongue exploring his as your kiss lingers for a long moment. Harry leans away and looks at you, and smiles.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, you know,” he says shyly, rubbing his hand along your hip, resting it on your waist.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask him, thinking his “long time” meant hours, days, maybe.

“You had a boyfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly. He leans to you once again as you wrap your arm up around his shoulder and pull your body into his. You kiss for another moment until you hear the doorbell downstairs. You stop kissing and look at each other, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Maybe they’ll go away, love,” he smiles before kissing you again, but you hear the doorbell again and Harry groans slightly.

“I’ll go see who it is. Hold that thought,” you sigh then move from underneath him as he lays back on the floor once again, smiling to himself, pleased that he had finally kissed you. You walk downstairs, smiling, and peek through the little peephole of the door, and see Kari’s eye on the other side, looking into the hole. “Geez!” you gasp, not expecting to see an eye up close. You open the door and Kari walks in.

“Feed me!” she begs. “Please! I’m starving, babe!” She notices the paint on your face and clothes and stands back. “Oh, is this a new look?”

You giggle at her. “Yeah, it’s known as Monet grunge. Is it me?” you say as you pose.

Kari kisses her cheek. “Sweetheart, you are always beautiful, even with paint face.”

“That’s the truth,” they hear Harry say as he descends the staircase, walking toward them.

“Oh! I’ve interrupted some weird sex thing, haven’t I?!” Your friend finally realizes the depth of what she just teased. “Have I?!” she says excitedly.

Harry giggles, as you explain. “Harry helped me paint the spare room today. We just finished a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” she says, a frowning look of disappointment on her face. “Just actual painting, eh? Alright, then. Now, can you feed me, please? I’ve been drinking and need nourishment,” she begs again.

“No,” you refuse, “but I will order some food for delivery. Harry, you in for some food?”

“Sounds good, love,” he smiles.

The three of you enjoy some take-away and talk for awhile, until you see Kari has fallen asleep, in one of the big, comfy chairs in your living room. You look at her and sigh, then look at Harry as he grins at you. You stand and cover her with a blanket, then sit back down again on the sofa, Harry pulling you more closely to him.

“You’re a good friend to her,” he says, thinking your friendship with your best friend is cute.

“She’s a good friend,” you smile. “Good for my ego, too!” you laugh and Harry chuckles.

“Yeah, think she has a bit of a crush on you,” he says, smiling. “But who wouldn’t have?”

You smile at his comment, then look at your friend again. “In the couple of years I’ve lived here, she and I have been through a lot together. I met her the first day I landed in England, at the airport. She had just flown in from a trip somewhere, and Alex was late picking me up, so I sat for a long time waiting on him, and she sat down next to me and kept me company.”

“Just like that?,” he smiled.

“She’s a bit forward, if you’ve not noticed,” you both laugh. “When Alex didn’t show up after 40 minutes, she grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the door, saying I could stay with her until my ‘sod of a boyfriend’, as she called him, got off his ‘bloomin’ arse’ and decided to come get me. She and I just hit it off and have been best friends ever since.”

“It’s good to have one person you can always depend on,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “She does lack a good sense of timing though, doesn’t she?” he laughs.

You laugh and agree. “That she does. Who is that person for you, Harry? That person you can always depend on.”

“I’d say, choosing only one, my mum,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s important to be close with your family.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I miss that sometimes.” He holds your hand sweetly, realizing you don’t have that with family anymore, and how that must feel.

“I hope you know, you can always depend on me,” he says, lovingly. “I’d like for us to spend more time together, if you want that, too, that is.” He takes his hand and caresses your jaw with it.

“I do want that, too,” you say, softly. He gently pulls your jaw closer and kisses you sweetly, then more deeply, as you let him pull you into him. You feel the rising heat of the kiss inside of you, before pulling away, as you hear Kari moan and giggle in her sleep, and you both look at her. Harry chuckles and kisses the side of your head, hugging you, then standing.

“I’m going to go, sweetheart,” he says. “Someone worked me to death today. Afraid I’m going to be feeling that for the next day or so,” he laughs quietly.

You stand and walk with him to the door, and like the feel of Harry holding your hand. You stand at the door and look at him with a grin.

“Thank you for helping me paint, today,” you say. “Would have taken me much longer without your help.”

“I didn’t mind at all,” he says. “It was fun. I always enjoy spending time with you.”

You smile at each other, as Harry leans in to you and kisses you sweetly, loving the taste of your lips, pulling you into another deep kiss. You feel his hands move to your waist as he pulls your body closely to his once again. Your hand finds his jaw as you return his kisses, until you are both nearly breathless.

“I also enjoy kissing you,” he grins.

“Can’t explain how much I enjoy it, too,” you agree.

He kisses you again, then opens the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you tell him. He leans to you once again, leaving brazen, little kisses on your lips, then walking away. He turns and waves to you and you wave back, watching as he leaves. You walk back inside, hear Kari snoring in her chair and leave a light on dim so she can see if she wakes, then go upstairs, shower, and go to bed.

*

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, you spend time with Harry as you both can, but he finds he has to travel back to LA for some work needing done. One night while he is there, he video calls you.

“Harry?” you ask sleepily, looking at the screen then turning on your light, as it’s middle of the night in London. You had assumed it was Kari, needing you to come pick her up somewhere, either lost or too drunk to find her way back home.

“Hello, love!” you hear Harry’s voice and see him in the sunshine on the screen. “Shit, I woke you, didn’t I? Forgot about the time difference for a second, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “How is LA?”

“Warmer than London, I’m guessing,” he chuckles, knowing the weather has turned bitter again in England. “Beautiful here, today. I wish you were here, you would love it. Ever been to LA?”

“Um,” you think, still a bit bleary-headed but waking. “Yeah, once when I was a kid, but I don’t really remember it very well. I was young.”

“I’d love to bring you here someday,” he says. “Could show you around a bit.”

“I’d like that,” you smile.

“I’m sorry I woke you. I was just thinking about you and wanted to see your face,” he explains.

“I’m glad you did,” you promise. “Always love to talk to you.” He smiles from you saying it, liking to hear it. He hoped you liked him as much as he did you. “When are you back, Harry?”

“Saturday,” he says. “My flight lands Saturday morning. Are you home then?”

“Actually, I have to work this weekend,” you say, sadly. “My supervisor has required everyone to work this weekend due to the big snowstorm we’re expecting next week. It’s due-in next Thursday, I think, and we have deadlines for printing.”

“That sucks having to work the weekend, though,” he says, disappointed.

“Yeah, it does,” you agree, “But it’s going to be good money. Double-and-a-half pay will help if we lose time from the snowstorm.”

“Still, you should get time off. That’s at least 10 days of work in a row,” he says.

“It’ll even out,” you say, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, is it will suck not getting to spend time with you this weekend, because you’ll be working,” he says, smiling, his dimples shining. “I was looking forward to spending some time with you. I’ve missed you,” he says with a shy grin.

“I’m sorry. I’ve missed you, too,” you say, disappointed. “Guess we both have our own work obligations. Mine making me work the weekend, yours making you work in LA.”

Harry sighs. “Too true, love. Alright, going to let you get back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I’m not,” you smile and watch him smile. “Anytime, please.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time I call and it’s 3 in the morning,” he smiles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you say, then disconnect the call. You lay in bed, smiling and thinking about Harry until you fall asleep once again.

*

You work long hours the rest of the week, and by Saturday evening, you look at your vibrating phone which shows a call coming in from Harry. You smile, happy for the respite from your work.

“Hey! Make it back okay?”

“I did,” he says, happily. “How are you?”

“Working my life away,” you sort of joke. “Late night at the office.”

“You’re at work?” he asks, shocked. “Sweetheart, it’s after 10 at night!”

“Yes,” you say, resigned. “One of my co-workers refused to work the weekend and was abruptly fired, so guess who had to take over her column?”

“You’re doing your job and someone else’s? That doesn’t seem rightly fair,” he says.

“I’m getting a nice bonus because of it, so I’m not complaining,” you say, yawning.

“Love, I don’t like that you’ll be leaving so late,” he says. “It’ll take me a bit to get there, but let me come pick you up and get you home.”

“Harry, thank you, but it’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m staying at Kari’s tonight. She’s working, too, so we’ll just crash at her place. It’s not far from here, so it’ll be easier coming back tomorrow morning.”

“I really don’t mind,” he says, but you stop him.

“I appreciate it, but it’s late and I know you’re tired from traveling. I don’t want you to get out and drive all the way here, then all the way to my house and back home again. It’s really okay, and thank you for offering”.

He sighs heavily. “Alright. As much as I would love to see you, you’re right, I’m exhausted. Are you at least able to leave to go to Kari’s soon?”

“Yes,” you say with a tired voice. “I’m almost finished for tonight and she’s getting her things together now. Probably won’t even stop for food. I’m ready for my head to hit a pillow.”

“I can imagine so, babe,” he says, hearing how tired you are. “Get some sleep, and hopefully I can see you over the next couple of days. Let me know when you have time, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Working 15 hour days every day is wearing me down. I don’t know how you do that so often in your job.”

“Honestly, sometimes I don’t know either,” he chuckles. “Get sleep soon, love.”

You and Harry don’t get much chance to spend time together again for the next few days, with your long work hours and his schedule. You stay at Kari’s, collapsing to sleep every night, and Harry works long hours at the studio, and writing deadlines, so your time together is spent only in a couple of short phone conversations.

By Wednesday you are pressed for time, trying to finish your deadline. The weather forecasters are saying the storm is moving in a bit sooner than they had initially predicted, possibly even this evening rather than tomorrow. And as much as you love Kari, you have been living with her for nearly a week and you are just ready to be in your home again. You finally finish all of your work, submit it to your supervisor, and put on your coat to go outside into the blustery wind and cold. You are prepared this time, knowing the weather is getting bad, and have dressed appropriately in warmer clothes, snow boots and thick socks, and a heavy coat, with hat, scarf, and gloves. You had quite a walk from work to the nearest tube station, then another long walk from the station near your home, until you hit your front stoop. You stood on the warmer side of the glass doors, staring out at the hard-blowing snow. It’s wet snow, too, so you know the roads, if not already, were going to be a mess soon. You wrap your scarf tightly around your face and neck, pulling down your hat well over your ears, and tucking the ends of your gloves into your coat sleeves, trying to prevent any cold air from slipping inside. You open the doors and are nearly knocked off your feet by the strong winter winds, but find your balance and start the long walk to the tube station, hoping they’ve not started shutting them down due to the weather conditions. It takes much longer than usual, as you fight the winds, sometimes nearly being blown over by them. Finally after what felt like years, you step onto the platform and see you have a moment to sit and rest. It was exhausting and, even with the layers, you were freezing. As you sat waiting, you feel your phone vibrating inside your bra and pull it out with numb fingers. You see Harry’s name at the top of your screen and start to answer but then see the train pull up and stop, so you tuck it back inside your bra and step onto the crowded train car. You would call him as soon as you got home, he would understand. After the long trip to your home station, the train finally came to a stop. You made sure you were once again covered well before stepping back out into the frigid, strong winds.

Harry had tried calling your phone several times but got no answer, and you didn’t reply to his texts. He knew the storm had come in earlier than you had expected it to, and was worried about you getting home safely. He even called your office to see if you were still there, but was told you had left long ago. When he still had not reached you and was at his brink of worry and losing patience, he put on his warmest clothes and coat and got into his vehicle, flipping it into 4-wheel drive to combat the storm-ridden roads, then set off to try and find you. He slowly drove to where your tube station was, occasionally trying your phone again with no answers, then traced the roads back to your house, knowing the way you probably walked. It was dark, wet, terribly windy, and miserable out. He looked up and down the streets and sidewalks, hoping to see you somewhere.

“Come on, love, where are you?” he said to himself. Some of the roads were bad enough that they were already closing them due to high snow drifts and ice, and Harry had a bit of trouble a couple of times getting through. When he is within just a few blocks of your house, his eyes roam up and down the streets and sidewalks, until he sees the figure of a person walking slowly, trying to get through the snow and ice, then stopping as if needing to rest. Harry got closer, trying to see if it was you, or someone needing help, always willing to help when he can. He sees the person take another step then fall on their hands and knees into the icy snow, staying in that position for a moment, before trying to get up again. Harry pulls his car closer, then quickly gets out and goes to the person. He pulls the hood of his hoodie and coat over his woolen, cap-covered head, and bends to help the person up. He feels panic and relief all at the same time as he realizes the person is you.

“It’s me, babe,” Harry hollers against the strong winds. “Come on!” He helps you up, but you have trouble walking, your legs and feet frozen and barely able to move anymore. “The car’s just here!” He puts his arms around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground, moving you to the passenger side of the car and helping you inside, then closing the door. He runs back to his side, climbing in, and slamming the door closed. He looks at you with worry. “Are you okay?” he asks, but you are too frozen to speak, and past the point of exhaustion, closing your eyes and leaning against the head rest of the leather seat. He makes sure the heat is on full blast then as quickly as the weather will allow, he drives to your home and into the driveway. Coming around to your side of the car, he helps you to the front door, where he finds your keys in your pocket and unlocks the door, getting you both inside the house before closing the door behind you. You are both breathing heavily, and he notices the ice hanging on your hat and scarf, and on the wisps of hair that have come out from under your winter cap. “Babe, are you okay?” he asks, as he helps get your wet outer clothes off of you. You don’t answer, not really hearing him, just looking at him through exhausted eyes, like you aren’t sure if you are dreaming or not. He pulls off the scarf and hat and removes his own, then rubs the skin on your face. “Come on, love.”

He helps you into the living room and starts a fire in the fireplace. He sees you are just standing, not moving, not talking. He grabs the floor pillows and warm blankets, and pulls your coat the rest of the way off of you. “Sit here in front of the fireplace,” he says as he helps you down to the floor, knowing your limbs are probably freezing and painful to move. He wraps a blanket around you, removing his coat and sitting closely to you, his legs around you and wrapping his arms around you, covering your legs with another blanket. “Better?” he asks as he feels you shaking. He sees you nod your head and rubs your arms and legs, trying to improve the circulation you’ve lost from the freezing temperatures. He kisses the side of your face, feeling it’s still freezing. After a bit, he thinks you feel a bit less rigid and more relaxed. “How are you doing, love?”

“So tired,” you say, nearly at a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” he says. “Crazy girl, trying to walk all that long way in this weather. I’m just glad I found you.”

“Couldn’t get…my legs…to work anymore,” you say quietly and shakily.

“It’s okay,” he comforts you. “Gonna get you all warmed up now. I’m just going to go fix us both a hot drink. You stay here in front of the fire, alright?” You nod, he kisses the side of your head, then stands and goes to the kitchen to make the tea. In a few minutes, Harry walks back into the living room, just as the electricity goes out. He stops for a second, thankful for the light of the fireplace. He looks and sees you lying down on one of the large pillows in front of the fire. He sets the mugs on the hearth then sits next to you. “Come on, love,” he takes your hand. “Made us some hot toddy’s. That should help warm you up inside and out.” You sit up and take the mug from him, your hands still shaking but not as badly. “Power’s out now. Good thing for the fireplace, yeah?”

You nod, taking another drink. “It’s good, thanks,” you say, holding the cup out a bit, then taking another sip.

“Not everyone’s liking, but when you’re cold, it hits the spot,” he says with a grin, sipping his own.

You take another sip then set the mug back on the hearth, pulling the blanket back up to your chin, then hiding your face in its warmth for a moment.

“Feeling better?” he asks, rubbing your back.

“Yeah, much,” you say, looking at him. “Thank you for coming looking for me.” He grins at you. “Why did you?”

“Couldn’t find you,” he says, moving hair from your face. “I knew you left work. I called and they said. You weren’t answering your phone. The worry just kept building. I wanted to make sure you got home safely, that you were okay.”

He grins at you again as you look at him. You’re not used to people being that way with you. You’ve always been the one who took care of everyone else. He’s always been sweet to you, and you know he cares for you, but to risk going out in a winter storm to make sure you were safe…even Alex wouldn’t have done that. You lean to him and kiss him sweetly on his lips, feeling him pull you slightly closer to him. You pull back a bit, then he sees you shake again, seeing the exhaustion still in your eyes.

“How about we lay here and rest for a bit, hm? No power for awhile, I’m guessing,” he says, then adjusts the large floor pillows so you both can rest comfortably in front of the fire. “Gonna have to share those blankets though,” he giggles, and you smile, then lay on the pillow, facing the fire. Harry lies down behind you, covering you both well with the blankets, then putting his arm around your waist and kissing the side of your face, then your neck and shoulder. “Rest, babe.”

*

You have no idea how long the two of you lay in front of the fire sleeping, but it was still dark when you woke, hearing Harry snoring lightly in your ear. Somehow you had managed to turn around and was facing him. He was holding your hand in one of his, and had his other arm under your pillow. You lay beside him, watching him sleep, and thinking. Harry must really like you to have done what he did. At first you felt he maybe had just felt sorry for you after Alex hurt you, and just wanted to be a friend to you. Then over time, you questioned in your mind your level of friendship, or if he wanted more. But his kiss. You’d always heard that you can tell a lot about a person by the kiss you share. You didn’t know what that meant for the longest time, but maybe you were beginning to understand better. You never really felt much of anything when Alex kissed you. But Harry…that was a different story all together. When Harry kissed you, you felt it from your reeling head to your curled toes. He made you feel like all he wanted was to taste your essence. Like you are the most delicate dessert that he can never get enough of.

You lay, watching his lips. The perfect shade of pink, you think. And so soft and gentle. You watch them as he sleeps next to you, feeling the burning desire inside of you to feel his kiss again. You didn’t want to wake him, but God, you loved his kisses. You gently snuggle closer to him and lightly kiss his lips, then pull back and watch him continue to sleep. You lean to him again, placing your tender kiss on his lips, lingering a moment longer, then feeling his own kiss you back as his hand squeezes yours lightly. You pull away again and look at his face, as he opens his eyes, gazing at you. You see the firelight in his eyes as he watches you. You swear when he looks at you, he must be able to see straight into your deepest thoughts and feelings. You study each other, saying nothing, as you lean toward him and kiss him once more, your lips melting into each other naturally. You feel his hand release yours as it travels to your waist, your back, drawing you closer to him, as his breath seems to catch in his throat for a short moment. You feel his leg wrap around yours as he kisses you almost desperately. You slowly move your mouth from his, to his jaw, peppering kisses and nibbles along the precision line and down his neck. You hear a light moan from his throat as he rubs his hand up and down your back, kneading your ass, your thigh, pulling your body as firmly against his as he can with clothes on. Your mouth trails to his Adam’s apple and kisses it, then lowers inside of his shirt, kissing his tatted chest.

He moves his face to yours, kissing you deeply, then traces his lips down your neck, leaving little bites along the way, loving how you whimper slightly from them. You feel his hand moving inside your shirt, over your ribs, then smoothing his hand lightly over your bra-covered breast. He lifts the fabric of your shirt, kissing the silky top of your breast over the lace trim of your bra, slowly inching the lace down, revealing your nipple. He breathes you into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, teasing it into a hard nub. He tastes you before turning you enough to treat the other the same. You watch him as he looks at your breasts, full as they are, fitting perfectly in his large hands as he massages them, suckling them with his mouth until he is satisfied with how erect and saliva-soaked your nipples have become. He traces his mouth back to yours and kisses you passionately, his breathing increasing as his hands find your waist. Nipping at your lips, he feels your hand move to the large log growing rapidly in his jeans. He moans at your touch, kissing you even more intensely. He lifts you enough to pull your shirt over your head and unclasps the hooks of your bra, as you make haste of unbuttoning and removing his shirt. His eyes trail to his jeans, seeing your hand freeing him of them. Harry impatiently slides his jeans down and off, his socks being lost in the denim heap at his feet, then turning back to you. You gasp slightly as you see his tattoos, prominent against the fire light. Those tattoos do something to you, and it had been ages since you’d seen them. You lean to him, planting kisses on some of them, darting your tongue over one of his nipples, then nuzzling your face into his soft curls as you feel him unfastening your jeans, while sucking and pulling on your breasts once again.

“Lie back, baby,” he whispers. You do as he says, as he pulls your jeans down your body, still damp from the snow earlier in the evening. He looks at you, lying on the floor in front of him, naked except for your lacy pink panties. His eyes roam up and down your body slowly, as if he is trying to memorize every measure of you, making you squirm slightly but turned on all the same. He slowly moves over you, like a panther about to devour his prey, and says with wild eyes, “So beautiful.”

You reach your hands to touch his tattoos, then his ribs, as he leans down and kisses you once again. That kiss. It does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. Harry presses his chest against yours, as his mouth kisses from your lips to the crook of your neck, traveling down until reaching your collarbone, where he once again nibbles and bites at you, sometimes to the point of slight pain, but it was a good pain that you didn’t want to stop. He slowly kisses his way down your body before parting your legs and settling himself between them. He massages your hips as he kisses across your tummy and groin, then lower further, leaving wet kisses on the insides of your thighs, causing you to barely breathe. He nuzzles his nose into the fabric of your panties from between your legs, up to your most sensitive spot, then kisses it, pulling at your clit through the fabric. Your breasts move rhythmically with your increased breathing, as Harry continues to tease your clit over your panties, until they become soaked from your own wetness. Harry notices the saturated fabric and moans, kissing the damp softness of your panties. He looks at you again as your eyes meet, then looks again between your legs, pulling the panties from your body and tossing them on the floor next to you. He places light, sucking kisses above your clit, enjoying your soft, shaven mound, then nudging your clit lightly with the tip of his nose as you catch your breath. He spreads your thighs further apart, holding them down and out of his way, before planting kisses on your lips, parting them with one finger, that then gently slides inside of you. He hears your breathing change slightly, as he nibbles on your inner thighs, kissing each sting to soothe it away. Harry sucks in his breath as he slides two fingers along your slick folds, lightly coating your clit with your wetness, then pushes them inside of you again, his tongue teasing your clit gently.

There was something about the fact that neither of you were saying anything. Normally you loved good dirty talk. Turned you on like nobody’s business. You were a firm believer that a really good kiss, or amazing filthy talk, are some of the best foreplay there is. But the fact that it was completely quiet except for the crackling fire, the spitting ice and snow against the house, and Harry’s mouth tasting your body, somehow made it very intimate. Like he was taking his time, learning what you like, wanting to pleasure you beyond your expectations, better than you have ever experienced.

You gasp loudly, suddenly shocked out of your thoughts, as you feel Harry’s hot, wet tongue plunge deeply inside of you. He presses his face firmly between your legs, as you feel his moan vibrating against your most sensitive parts. You feel him swipe his tongue from your lips up to your clit, not once, not twice, but three times, each time a bit more slowly and intentionally, and you moan loudly from the intense pleasure of it. You’ve never been quiet in sex, and Harry was learning this quickly, but it told him he was making you feel exactly as he wanted you to, exactly what you needed to feel. He looks up at you as he suctions his lips around your clit, teasing it with his tongue, his fingers finding their way inside of you again, curling up and pulling back to him slowly, over and over again, against the spot he knows will do you in. You moan his name loudly, your hand moving to his curls, pulling his face against you, slowly bucking up against each stroke of his fingers inside you, causing him to moan but not let go of your slippery nub. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so much during sex. You look at him again, seeing only his curls between your legs as he works eagerly to make sure you are enjoying it as much as he is. He kisses your clit, looking at your face as he feels you squeezing his fingers. His tongue traces lightly over you as he continues working you inside. He swallows hard, pressing his nose against your tiny button, licking you from his hand to your sensitive nerves over and over. He feels you clamp tightly around his fingers and watches your face as you begin to tremor in orgasm. You moan “Harry!” loudly as your body trembles and quakes with overwhelming release. You hear him moan more aggressively as his lips and mouth smack and drink your juices, cleaning you thoroughly with his strong tongue. Your hands grab the blanket under you, balling it in your fists as you slowly learn how to breathe again, looking up at the ceiling as you feel Harry’s fingers move from inside you and rub you gently along your slit, soothing you, then crawling up your body. You see the glistening remnants of you on his chin and cheeks and now brightly red and swollen lips, shining from the fire’s glow against his face. He smears his hand lightly over his face, then kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his mouth. He pulls back again and you still see the wild look in his eyes.

“Again, love?” he asks.

***********************

Thank you for reading Part Two of For The Love Of Harry. I hope you liked it, and I welcome your feedback, asks, and comments. Thank you for the good response to Part One. I will begin working on Part Three this week, and I’m curious to read your reaction to Part Two. How you respond to my writings will determine if I continue writing stories to post, so please, if you like it, let me know! Also I will be starting my Music Series, a collection of Harry short stories and one shots, based on songs and lyrics, as well as creating a Masterlist if it seems people are enjoying my writings. Please keep in mind I’m used to writing in screenplay format, so adapting my stories for posting is new to me, and I apologize for any mistakes. And I still deal with my smut-demons, so Harry, if you read any of this and are offended, please feel free to let me know and it is history! :) Thanks for reading!

Now Or Never (Part 11)

Pairing: Arthur (Mr.) Ketch x Reader
Word Count: 1,247
Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (female). Minor tiny bit of dirty talk.
Sequel: Part 11/12 of Now Or Never

Authors Note: ***Important*** I don’t want to get blasted for knocking Ketch so far out of character so please read this note.  He falls out of character in this update. He shows heart, emotion, fear, vulnerability.  With all the changes he’s been through the man isn’t going to remain the stone faced assassin. So please don’t send me messages telling me he’s out of character.  I know he is and it was an intentional decision.

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Are You Serious? - Tyler Seguin (#16)

Originally posted by flyersphiladelphia

I looovveeeeee me some Tyler! Who doesn’t! Also this gif makes me so so so happy. I’m literally awful at writing about fights but I think this one turned out alright!  Let me know what you think guyssss!  Much love! <3

Word count: 891

Warnings: swearing, couple’s fighting

Request: “Can you do an imagine of tsegs like getting into a fight with his girl but then regretting it then acting all super nice and everything u kno u kno? ahhaha” - @boston-hooligan

********

“Hey babe” you looked over in Tyler’s direction as he stomped into the house and slammed the front door.  Tyler had just gotten home from practice and to say it went poorly was an understatement.  The Stars had lost a huge game at home, 5-1 and you never wanted to blame your boyfriend for anything but he took a couple really dumb penalties that led to some cheesy goals.  You knew he had more than likely had a strip ripped off him at the morning skate so he was less than thrilled.  “How was practice?” you asked meekly, not really sure if you wanted to hear the response.

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When Eyes Meet: Prologue

AN: That sound you hear? Yeah that’s me. I am so freaking happy with how it turned out, it’s amazing. @royslittleharper will be posting the companion piece soon, so be on the look out. Without further ado, I present Katherine, Kit, Blair in her debut .


    Some days never seemed to end, and in Katherine Blair’s personal opinion, they were usually the sucky days. So, it seemed appropriate that the worst day of her life should go on for an eternity.

    She did her best to catch pieces of the condolence her parent’s downstairs neighbor was attempting to offer. But her attention was split between the three most important people in her life; the people who needed it most. And right now, only one of them was in sight.

    As quickly and politely as possible, she excused herself from the older woman’s grasp, and made her way over to the far side of the room. At seven years old, Natsume was her youngest brother, and by far the quietest. With an intelligence that far surpassed the rest of their family, the kid was already in middle school classes.

    Silently she slid down the wall to sit next to him, and a second later his hand was in hers. “Kit.”

    “Hmm?”

    “You’re not going to leave … are you? You’re staying here, right?”

    Kit sighs, they’d had this conversation no fewer than six times in the past four days, and everything she had read online, had told her it was completely normal. Natsume was feeling scared, abandoned, and unsure about the future; he needed the reassurance and it was up to Kit to give it.

    So, she did the only thing she could think of, she pulled the kid into her lap, and wrapped her arms around him. Natsume had never been one for personal contact, he preferred his space, but when it came to Kit he had always wanted to be cuddled.

    Despite the age distance, they were the closest of the four siblings. When she had lived in Central City, her youngest brother had called at least three times a week for hour long conversations.

    “Seth still hasn’t come out.”

    Kit could only grunt a response. No amount of banging on the door, talking, or bribery had convinced the oldest of her younger siblings to come out. Personally she had considered it a victory that she’d convinced him to come to the funeral at all. She hadn’t been surprised when he had locked himself in his room the moment they had returned home.

    She’d deal with that later, she had other things to deal with at the moment. Like Great Aunt Muriel heading straight towards them. Immediately, Natsume turned in her arms and buried his head in her neck. Kit couldn’t blame the kid, she only wished her mother was still alive so that she could do the same.

    But she wasn’t. So, Kit tightened her arms around the munchkin, and prepared for war. Aunt Muriel, was technically Great-Aunt-Muriel. The woman was a bitter old biddy, who had been forced to raise her Kit’s father, when her grandmother had just vanished one day. She was controlling and mean, and despite all of that her father had loved the old woman. He had never been able to say no to her, which made it a good thing that her mother had.

    Aunt Muriel had hated their mother. First for her race, then for “stealing” her father, and finally for how her mother had acted. Kyoko Blair had been a free spirit. Every month her hair had been a new color or style, her nails were always done in some outrageous fashion, and she purposely kept her Japanese accent thick, just to annoy Great-Aunt-Muriel. Her mother had never left out the GREAT, specifically to remind the woman of her age.

    Kit had been a witness to several arguments over the years; from the different piercings, to the tattoos. Her mother had been a rebellious spirit, and the stark opposite of her father.

    Elliot Blair was the definition of a military man. He thrived on the order Aunt Muriel had brought him up in. He liked rules, and being on time. It’s what had made them such an odd couple. The one time he had refused Aunt Muriel had been when she’d demanded that he divorce her mother.

    Elliot had made it clear, Kyoko was there to stay. They were soulmates, their eyes proved it. What had followed were years of passive aggressive snipes and forced, fake politeness in front of her father. The man had gone to his grave thinking the two women actually got along. A true testament to just how much they both loved him.

    For years, Kit’s mother had been the wall standing between Muriel and her children. She had never let the woman get closer than the occasional visit. And Kit knew why. Muriel didn’t like her … or her sister for that matter. She saw them as replicas of their mother. Trouble waiting to brew. The boys however, she wanted the boys.

    Kit had already had one argument with the woman about custody. Thank God for her mother. Her mother had made sure the will had been iron clad; Kit retained custody of her siblings until they turned eighteen years old. They were to stay together, as a family. It was a huge blessing in the middle of an even bigger shit storm.

    “Katherine.”

    With a sigh, Kit forced her eyes up towards the woman, “Aunt Muriel.”

    “Why don’t I take little Nathan, so you can properly thank those who attended.”

    Kit scowled. Having four children had left her parents with a lot of room for names. And with two different heritages they had plenty of names to pick from. Her mother had named her and Seth surprisingly. She had chosen western names. When Kit had asked why, she’d simply shrugged and said, “I liked the names I liked.”

Her father had named the two youngest; Aki and Natsume. Aunt Muriel had thrown a fit right up until her father had declared that he had chosen the names. She’s sweetened right up after that, but had still tried to “westernize”  the names. She had called Natsume, Nathan and Aki, Abi.

The fight that had taken place between her mother and aunt was legendary. In fact Aunt Muriel had been banned from the apartment for six months after each incident. She hadn’t tried it again until now.

And the sheer fact that the woman was attempting to assert dominance right now, made Kit’s blood boil. Her parents hadn’t even been in the ground for an hour, and so far she’d questioned Kit’s ability to parent, host a funeral, and insulted half of her culture.

And to be completely honest she was done playing nice. She carefully nudged Natsume to the side before standing. “First of all, you bitter old biddy, his name is Natsume, and you damn well know it. My father, the man you raised, picked it, so RESPECT IT. Second of all, I’m fairly certain that everyone here understands that I’ve just buried my parents, but you. They also understand that my first priority is my siblings, which means if my brother needs a hug, I’m going to give him one.

I do not need you to hold him. I do not need your help picking out their clothes. I do not need your commentary on my parenting skills, because if you haven’t noticed my world is spinning right now, and all I want to do is cry, but I can’t! I can’t because I’ve got three kids depending on me. And before you start, yes …I realize I’m young. Yes I realize I’m only twenty-three. If I didn’t before, you’ve made it very clear over this past week, but I will figure this out because I am determined to keep this family together. So, butt out!”

    The look on Aunt Muriel’s face was nearly enough to justify the outburst. Then she saw they eyes on her and the embarrassment was quick to follow. Finally, Aunt Muriel’s face turned red and Kit was certain that she was in for an earful, when someone said, “Well you heard her. Time for you to go.”

    Kit’s eyes slid towards the voice, and she couldn’t help but smile. Anna Baily was a small woman, and stronger than an ox. She had a presence that demanded respect, and the woman had been the first one to offer help. She hadn’t said one negative word, had only offered a helping hand.

    “You heard her Ms. Blair. Time to go.” At the sound of Commissioner Gordon’s voice Kit let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

    Muriel said nothing as she simply turned on heel and left. A moment later Natusme’s hand was back in hers. Kit could only give a tentative smile as Anna and Commissioner Gordon approached.

    She offered her free hand to both of them before giving her thanks, “You have no idea how grateful I am right now.”

    Anna smiled, “From what your mother told me about that woman and what I just witnessed I have a fairly good idea.”

    “Katherine, on behalf of the entire GCPD I’m very sorry about the loss of your parents. You father was a damn good cop.”

    “Thank you Commissioner.”

    “If there’s anything I can do …”

     “I’ll let you know.”

    Jim Gordon simply nodded before walking away, and Anna Bailey captured her attention. “How’s Aki doing?”

    Kit shrugged, “Hard to tell. Aki’s been dramatic from birth, she’s in mourning but … it’s hard to tell.”

    “I hope you don’t mind but I brought Maia, I figured a friendly face would do her some good.”

    Kit watched the girl on the other side of the room. Maia Bailey was Aki’s best friend, and had been for some time. She put up well with the drama, and had some magic way of getting her sister to calm down during hysterical moments. And almost, if by magic Aki appeared. The eleven year old had followed Seth’s lead and locked herself in her room following the funeral. Unlike Seth, there had been loud sobs, and wailing from the other side of door.

    With a running leap, Kit watched as Aki threw herself onto her best friend, in a heap of tears. Narrowing her eyes, Kit focused in on Aki’s face to find mascara smudged across her cheeks.

    Kit could feel her eye start to twitch. Her parents had a no makeup rule until age thirteen. And Kit had made it clear that rule was still in place, when she’d found her younger sister rifling through her make-up earlier in the day.

    Too exhausted to investigate, Kit simply slumped a bit. “Dear,” Anna Bailey’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she focused on the woman again, “Have you had any luck finding a job yet?”

    Kit could only shrug, “Not yet, a few applications but it hasn’t been my main priority yet.”

    “And those applications are for where?” Kit just smiled. Of course Anna saw straight through her, “You’re a trained chef my dear, and I was hoping to hire you myself. And before you say anything this is not pity, this is me wanting the best. More often than not I have several guests over every night, and well, I like good food. I don’t want an answer right now, we’ll talk later. Just think about it, hmm.”

    Kit watched the woman head towards the food on the other side of the room before slumping back down against the wall. Natsume snuggled into her side a moment later. “We’re going to be okay, he says a moment later.”

    “So certain, are ya?”

    “Yep, I had a dream last night.”

    Kit smiled down at him, “About what?”

    “A bat, with eyes the same color as your left one.”

    “Is that so?”

    “I think it means you’ll find your soulmate soon.”

    More than once Kit had thought about the owner of the blue eye. She’d stared at it for hours when she was a child. She and her mother had spent hours dreaming up what her soulmate would be like. How they looked, how they talked and acted.

    Her favorite bedtime story had been her mother telling her about the first time she’d laid eyes on her father. She and her friends had been surrounded by military men at a local festival. They’d been making fun of the straight laced military uniforms when suddenly she locked eyes with a man across the way. Everyone else had disappeared, and she was suddenly staring into green eyes, that she had only seen in a mirror. The rest had been history.

    Kit let out a sigh, “Who needs a soulmate, when I’ve got you?”

    Natsume simply stared up at her, “I never said that you need him … but I think he needs you.”

    Kit wasn’t sure she could handle another person needing her. She had enough on her plate as it was, and working out the dynamic of being a twenty-three single mother of three with being a soulmate was not something she wanted to try at the moment. So, for now, she just pulled her baby brother closer, and wished for the day to be over.