I Want (H.S Fanfiction)

Chapter 12- Eat Your Fucking Pancakes

I AM SOOO CLOSE TO 1K LIKE I NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN 1000 READS, THAT IS SO FUCKING AWESOME! HOLY SHIT THIS IS ACTUALLY KIND OF FUN. SOMETIME IT'S REALLY HARD TO THINK ABOUT WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT BUT ITS TIMES LIKE THIS WHEN I AM JUST ABOUT TO UPLOAD AND I CANJUST REFLECT ON HOW COOL THIS REALLY IS SO THANK YOU.

PLEASE REMEMBER TO VOTE AND SHIT.

Chapter 12- Eat Your Fucking Pancakes

"Guys we have a problem!" Liam howled out to all of the house. I walked down the stairs, like any human would the boys however, jumped one by one over the second floor railing. The even managed to land as sharply as they would if they had just jumped in the air.

"Well what is it, we were playing Fifa?" oh yes Niall because Fifa is the most important thing in the world. "No that's food or money." Wait I didn't say that out loud I'm sure of it this time, how do they keep doing this? Niall just sat and smirked at me as if he knew exactly how confused and creeped out I was.

"19 year old Honey Dean has been reported missing. The young female was last seen on January 12th 2015 at the Cambridge Bank at around twelve in the afternoon. She has long brown hair with golden eyes, she is 5 ft 6 all and we believe that she has no tattoos to be recognised with."

That's me! They ae showing a picture of me on the fucking news. It must be Jake! I have nobody but him, I left nobody but him.

Flashback

"Promise me that if we are both still not married by forty, we have to get married." Jake and I were sat on a field having a Sunday evening picnic, that we have had every Sunday since we were seven. Today is Jakeey sixteenth birthday and, he was pretty popular at school (and incredibly rich) meaning, he could have quite easily have thrown an awesome party. And yet all he wanted was to sit on some grass, watch the sunset, and eat food with me." Jakeey, I promise that if we are both not married by thirty four, because I am not walking down the aisle with a single wrinkle on my face." The two of us just sat and laughed for ages.

God I love this kid.

End of flashback

"Sir, do you think it is best for me just to go home now?" PLEASE SAY YES! PLEASE SAY YES! PLEASE! "No it's time for you to get back to training." Training, really? They just found out that the police are looking for me and all harry wants to do is train.

"Right what you're going to do is; punch this bag until I feel your done for and then your gonna practice gun usage. Both before and after shooting." I groan in response, really just want to wake up in my flat and this all be a horrible dream. You know them dreams when you wake up and you don't remember shit... yeah those.

I have been punching and kicking for like half an hour now, my body is as weak as a new born. Or as weak as someone who has just been beaten to a pulp, with only minutes until they drown in the pool of darkness that is death. "Harry please let me stop, I'm so tired." I extend the so as my body leans against the cold brick wall. "No. Believe me Honey you can go on just five more minutes. Then you can take a 5 minute break before shooting." Believe him ha. He is a fucking criminal who wants to train me to kill.

"Okay come here your hands are all battered" Harry motioned me to go sit in the basements bathroom. "This may sting a li- ah what's the point of lying. It is going to hurt a shitload." I nodded, going to sit on the edge of the bath tub while Harry got a first aid kit from above the white sink. Once Harry had finished cleaning my fist, he planted a soft kiss on each sore knuckle. I took this time to sit and study his face, he was less smoking hot and more of a work of art. Something that should be preserved and looked after. If Harry was like this all the time I would feel honoured to have the opportunity to just treasure every piece of him. I would strive to learn and know every inch of him. Whoa, every inch of him, now that would be an interesting mission to handle.

But know he is a complete arse 80% of the time. "Personally I would say its more 75% arse and 25% loveable but broken spirit."

"Harry tell me why all of you know exactly what I'm thinking." Once is a coincidence, two is suspicious but three times is a pattern. And this was one strange pattern, I never say what's going on in my mind by accident. "That's a story for another day, care to join me in bed?" Harry takes his large hand and places it at arm's length. "I thought we were going to practice shooting."

"We will save that for that tomorrow, now come on lets go to bed."

Next morning - well 4:30am

"Come on big batty. Its breakfast then straight into training. There's a stack of pancakes with your name on it."

"I could get used to this sort of treatment." I responded giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Harry then seemed to get a bit red, which was super cute. I guess he is just so used to the rough sex that he has forgotten what it's like to feel. To have a happy stable relationship with someone female. The girls here, just his own personal sex toys. And let's face it, he is already half way there.

"Believe me, I'm trying so hard to treat you like a princess and not a like an everyday whore."

"Well Mr styles there is an easy way to fix that, you see I like my hair pulled and I like being chocked. But I also like to cuddle and have my nose and forehead kissed when I drift to sleep. So in theory just treat me like a princess but master, fuck me like a whore." I crawled over to harry, who was stood at the edge of the bed. I began planting soft kisses under his ear, traveling all across his neck. Attempting to leave no part untouched. "Hey I slaved since three this morning, eat your fucking pancakes. While I now go fix the stiffy you caused."

"Hey I slaved since three this morning, eat your fucking pancakes. While I now go fix the stiffy you caused." I mimicked Harry; to the best of my ability. A small giggle escaped my lips while I began munching on the food Harry, so kindly, prepared.

"You need to know how to use these. Though I hope you never have to." We were now back in the basement a table of guns lying side by side, was presented. Harry loads an automatic for me to use. I kinda... accidentally... sort of pointed the gun at him. "Honey, target's that way." I reposition myself to face the target. "One hand, not two. Turn sideways to the target. Looking along your shoulder, down your arm, straight line to the sights. Bring up the gun. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Too fast. It's all in the breathing." I try to steady my breathing but it was too difficult when there is a sex god stood so close to me that you couldn't even slide a sheet of paper between our two bodies. "Hold it firmly. Don't grip it. Breathe in. Focus. Breathe out. Squeeze gently."

Fuck yes! I hit that bitch in one fucking shot. "Did you see that? I shot it right between the eyes. Can I go again please, please, please?" I pleaded, who would have known I would get excited by the thought of shooting something, or someone.

A whole hour we've been down here, shooting and having a laugh. I think Harry has finally realised that I'm not as relaxed about the whole contract shit and he has just given up. It has made it easier to connect with him on an emotional level. We can laugh, talk about our lives and express our emotions without that fucking contract weighing down on us.

And I am really happy. So, so happy.

"Harry... It's your dad."