softforcal asked:
hi baby. REQUEST TIME!!! Can you do one for Dom H being hella proud that his sugar baby did well on finals and papers? She was being a bit bratty while writing the essays and he had to coax her through it and get her to take care of herself because doing well means a lot to him. so he'd be so proud. and i need you to murder me please
***
She slinks up behind him, dragging her hands from over his shoulders to his mid chest as she pulls him in backwards for a hug. Her cheek pressed against his, breathing matching with his, she opens her mouth to murmur a greeting, but Harry's quick to it.
"How many words?"
She freezes, a pout on her face. "What?"
"You heard me."
"A thousand four hundred."
"Which means you've got six hundred left." His fingers move quickly on the laptop, refusing to look at her. He feels her jaw clench against his own, and he purses his lips. "Go."
"I'm taking a break," she tells him, walking around the sofa to plop down next to him, a smile on her face. "Let's take a break together."
"No. Go finish up."
She huffs and crosses her arms, laying her head on his shoulder and staring up at him. "But I wanna spend time with you."
"Imagine all the time you'll have to spend with me the quicker you finish that paper." It's like he has all these answers queued up and ready to go, and the truth is that he does because this is the third "break" she's on, pestering him to provide her with attention. Every answer is the same, every response from her is the same, however eventually he has to glance up and scold her back to the dining room and finish her paper. She'd been stressing over it for so long and now that she's four pages in, he doesn't want her creative process to end because he's agreed to a lengthy break. Besides, he knows her very well and once the break begins, once her laptop is forgotten and his is discarded, she'll never get that studious mindset back and right now he can't afford that. This paper has been bothering her to no end for the past few weeks and it's the last remaining one. Just one more, he keeps telling her and they'll be done for the semester, spending hours and hours putting copious amounts of love on each other, but she's been stubborn.
Of course, she's stubborn. It's who she is.
Her hands slyly push his laptop off his lap and replaces it with her head, staring up at him. "Not a very flattering angle," she lets him know, but did he really ask?
He finally looks down at her with a disappointed sigh – one that makes her heart hurt a bit, but it's the price she'll have to pay in order to get what she wants – and places his hands at his sides. "What are you doing?"
"Spending time with you."
"Do I need to physically carry you back to the table?"
Her eyes widen and she raises one hand, running her fingers through his strands. "Maybe."
He sighs once more and rises from the sofa, forcing his hands under her back to make her get off him. She lets out a yelp and a soft "no! no!" but he's not listening. He stands to his full height and places his hands on her waist, easily picking her up and, despite her moans to put her down, he throws her over his shoulder and begins to walk to the table.
"Put me down!" she grouses, crossing her arms. "I said put me–!"
He enters the kitchen and glances around. He opens up the refrigerator and removes something that she can't detect. It's placed on the counter and he continues to mess with some dish. He even walks to the sink once to wash whatever it is and once he's finished, he's still holding her with one arm, dangling over his shoulder, and walks back to the dining table. The dish is put down first and then his girlfriend.
