#[ All Signs Lead Back to You | Harry ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

erodasfishtacos · 13 days ago

Text

Is It Casual? || FWB!H ||

prompt: it's casual, right? but god, it really doesn't feel that way

word count: 6k

warnings: subspace, lack of aftercare, angst, lack of communication

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are other parts of this up and will be updated this month

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (2-5kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 375 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first TWENTY to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month!

The bar was clearing out, trivia night had come to a conclusion, and everything was winding down.

The big chalkboard in the corner still displayed the final scores, a lopsided tally where “Team Niall” had tragically lost by two points.

It was Tuesday night and everyone had work the next day which meant that there was a rush through the door and left them as the last ones to filter out because they always tended to lollygag even though most of them had early mornings.

The group of friends were all saying their goodbyes.

YN stood with Georgia near the AC vent, arm linked through hers for warmth because the cold blast from above made her huddle in closer.

Hailee and Jessa were a few feet away, still laughing about the last round of questions, and how the boys were such sore losers at every turn.

Someone always tended to leave Trivia night with their feelings hurt.

Niall, Harry, and Mitch were all arguing about the question that had them lose the game.

“Why the fuck would you say Delaware?” Harry scolds as he runs his hand through his hair, a scowl that was saved for Niall and Niall alone, “It's not even a fucking city. It's a state.”

“I got confused! Delaware is the smallest state!” Niall defends putting his hands up, pinks cheek from the beer he's had.

“No, it's really fucking not. It's Rhode Island!” Harry shouts back at him with exasperation, hands thrown up in annoyance, “Come on!”

“You're off the team,” Mitch adds in, monotone and bored as he tugged his keys out from his jean pocket - slowly but obviously trying to see himself out of the argument.

“That's bullshit! We're literally named Team Niall,” He argues with wide disbelieving eyes.

“It's not hard to change the name,” Harry adds in, agreeing with Mitch, and an annoyed roll of his eyes because even though the two have been friends since diapers - they fought more than middle school girls and made up just as quickly.

“Okay, well we work tomorrow morning and have seen enough of this cat fight,” Hailee announces as she wraps her hand around Mitch’s wrist, guiding her boyfriend towards the door.

Jessa trailed behind, waving goodnight to everyone with an amused smile tugging at her lips.

Niall is mumbling about unfair treatment as they all start heading towards the door.

“You did good,” Harry manages to slip next to YN, bumping her hip and then glancing over at Georgia, “You too. I didn't know about Montana's state flower.”

“Better do some studying before next Tuesday,” Georgia quips as she throws her arm around YN, who just laughs softly.

“You did a good job too, Harry,” YN compliments as she leads Georgia towards where they parked next to each other.

“Thanks,” He replies with a slight smile, he pauses as he realizes his car is next to Niall’s on the other side of the lot, “I'll see you guys next Tuesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” YN said, both she and Georgia giving a small wave as he headed off.

“You two should totally date,” Georgia says as soon as Harry is out of earshot, glancing back quickly to double check, “You'd be so cute together.”

YN shakes her head with an annoyed scowl towards her friend, “We both just got out of long-term relationships. I don't think that would be a good idea.”

Georgia made a dismissive sound, clicking her tongue, “Harry’s been broken up with Lauren for, what, four months? You and Ben ended things at least three ago.”

YN bit the inside of her cheek, the familiar tightness crawling up her chest, “You literally just think we should date because we’re both single.”

“And you guys would look hot together,” Georgia doesn't disagree with her accusation, “I mean…look at him. He's insanely fit. He carried four drinks with one hand!”

YN had noticed.

She wasn’t blind.

She remembered the way his hand had dwarfed the copper mug as he slid the Moscow Mule in front of her before passing out three other beer bottles.

And the size of his hands… yeah, she noticed that too.

“No, I'm not looking for a relationship and I doubt he is either,” YN reiterates as they get to their cars, “He's nice but I'm not ready to commit again.”

Georgia scoffed, pressing the button on her key fob - her car chirped and blinked to life, “Who said anything about commitment? I said a date, not a full ass wedding.”

“Goodnight, George,” YN sighed, her tone exasperated but affectionate, she unlocked her own car with a quiet beep,“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Georgia groaned, slumping dramatically with a frown coating her features, “I’ve got that god-awful presentation. You better pretend to care.”

“Always do,” YN said with a laugh as she slipped into the driver’s seat, glad the conversation had moved on.

Her head was already too full, her thoughts spiraling the moment Harry came up.

Ben.

Just the name made her temples throb, an implosion that she was trying to avoid because it made her head hurt at least once a day, sometimes more if she thought about him for too long.

It's been three months and it's been amazing to be out of a relationship with an immature man child who got insecure when she went to trivia night so he always tagged along, needed to be included when he hated trivia and rarely ever answered correctly.

So yeah, it had been a relief.

Being single was better than babysitting a grown man’s ego.

Georgia blew her a kiss before backing out of the parking spot with a little screech of tires.

YN gave her the middle finger with a smirk before starting her own engine.

It seems like every week now she was bringing it up, trying to play matchmaker for two people who were healing from heartbreaks.

YN only knows a little about the break-up.

Lauren rarely came to trivia.

When she did, she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

YN knew that Harry had ended it, even though it was hard—he’d said once, in a rare vulnerable moment, that he wanted someone he could build a life with.

Lauren didn’t want that.

She hadn’t gone easily either.

She’d shown up at trivia twice post-breakup, trying to win him back.

Each time, the group acted like they weren’t watching as Harry gently pulled her aside, voice low and kind, guiding her to the other side of the bar before walking her out to her car.

Ben had shown up a few times too, clumsy and bitter, trying to stake some kind of claim.

That hadn’t ended as well as with Lauren.

It didn’t end quietly because Niall and Mitch had to guide him out of the bar while Harry stood between them to make sure that Ben didn’t approach her again - acting as her makeshift bodyguard.

So now Georgia was rooting for two broken people to get together—not necessarily out of romance, but maybe just because the group missed their spark.

Missed the way YN used to laugh, the way Harry used to be sharper, quicker.

+ few minutes later +

“Hips up, come on. You’ve been teasing all night,” Harry grunts, voice low and rough the moment the backseat door thuds closed behind them.

There’s no hesitation—he’s already on her.

His hands at the waist of her skirt, fumbling big hands trying to find the zipper as he bullies her further into the space until her back hits the opposite door.

YN has to remind herself that she's just romanticizing this whole situation because it's her first time having a sexual relationship with someone she's not dating.

She convinces herself the excitement is what makes their chemistry so magnetic and nothing else but she knows she never felt like this with Ben or any other partner.

“Wasn't teasing,” YN manages to get out but she was already breathless, eager in a way she's never been with sex, her thighs dampening was a new sensation.

“No?” His tone is almost mocking, but laced with something darker—something feral, his fingers finally land on the zipper at her side, tugging it slowly down with infuriating precision, “Then your cunt isn’t needy? Am I reading the signs wrong?”

Her breath hitches.

God, she should be annoyed.

She should be offended.

But the filth coming from his mouth only fuels the heat already pooling low in her belly.

The way he says it—so confident, so cocky lights her up in a way she didn’t know words could.

“What signs?” YN pushes back because their back and forth only build up her arousal even further, searching for more dirty words out of his mouth.

Harry leans in, his mouth a breath away from her ear.

His words send a full-body shiver down her spine.

“The way you watched my mouth all night,” Harry murmurs, voice thick and gravelly.

His fingers press insistently into the soft, plush flesh just above the waistband of her tight skirt, “Saw you clench your thighs when I took off my coat.”

“You’re full of yourself,” YN manages, but the protest comes out barely above a whisper.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of his jacketat his shoulder, grounding herself in him because it still doesn't feel real—being able to touch him like this, have him this close.

There’s something that happens when she’s with Harry—this overwhelming impatience, a hunger that feels heavier, more intense than lust.

Like if she doesn’t get his hands on her, in her, she might actually combust.

“So you didn't want this? Haven't been looking forward to Trivia night for this?” Harry has this cocky smile on his face, his fingers haven't move at all from her waist and it was making her tick.

“Didn’t cross my mind once,” YN bites out, teeth clenched, her toes curling inside her boots, heels digging into the expensive leather of the car seat.

Her body is aching to be touched—every inch of her buzzing with restless need but she’s trying to keep control of the dynamic.

Barely.

Harry narrows his eyes slightly, amusement and heat flickering behind them as he begins to pull back.

The shift is subtle, but she feels the loss instantly—his weight, his warmth.

And that just won’t do.

Before he can move another inch, her other hand snaps up to grab at his jacket, fisting the fabric roughly and yanking him back toward her.

Their lips collide in a kiss so heated it steals the breath from her lungs.

His hand flies up to cup the side of her face, fingers splayed against her cheek and jaw, holding her in place like he’s claiming her.

The way he kisses her—hungry and messy and unrelenting, it feels like he’s trying to devour her, like he earned her mouth, like he owns it.

“Admit it,” Harry’s mouth is still against hers, barely separating to speak before he's dipping his tongue back into her mouth like he can't help himself.

“No,” YN chases after his tongue as he pulls back, trying to follow his lips because they were addictive and she wanted more.

Harry doesn’t let her take.

He sits back just enough, his body still caging her in, but now his eyes are on fire.

That same molten look she’s only ever seen when he’s like this—turned on and completely focused.

“Why are you being difficult, honey?” Harry hums as he moves to cup her knees where they're bent around him, ghosting down her right, and dancing along the hem of her skirt, “I know what you want. Don't need to be ashamed of it.”

YN feels a swoop on her stomach, the way he spoke never managed to not get her even more turned on for him, and the whole dynamic of feeling this aroused and playful was new.

“Then give it to me,” YN huffs out as she hitches her hips impatiently, blinking down at him - she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

He reaches up and captures one of her wrists, the same one curled tight into his jacket.

Gently but deliberately, he pries it free and guides it downward.

With his other hand, he hikes her skirt up, bunching the fabric at her hips until she’s fully exposed, her thighs spread, her breath trembling in her throat.

Then he moves her hand between her legs.

It takes her breath away—literally.

Her gasp cuts sharply through the close air of the backseat, a startled, needy sound as her own fingertips brush the soaked heat of her thong.

Harry doesn’t look away from her, not for a second.

She can’t help the shudder that racks through her when her fingers press more firmly to her clit.

It’s not the same as when it’s his hands on her, his mouth.

But it still eases the throbbing, even if just a little.

“Feel nice, sweet girl?” Harry nearly croons, it sounds fonder than it should for what they're doing, what they are, and aren't to each other, “You're filthy, touching yourself like this in front of me.”

There’s something unbearably hot about the way he guides her, how he’s using her fingers to pleasure herself the way he wants.

She opens her mouth to throw the insult back at him, to call him filthy, but all that escapes is a whimper as he withdraws her hand suddenly.

He holds it between them, his grip gentle but commanding.

Her slick glistens on her fingertips under the dim lights filtering through the foggy windows.

“Not wet for me?” Harry asks, cocking a brow with mock innocence.

“No,” she replies with a bratty edge, her chin lifting in defiance.

She’s proud of the attitude—but it doesn’t last long.

Because without missing a beat, Harry brings her hand up to her face, rubbing her soaked fingertips across her lips until her own arousal glosses them.

He doesn’t stop there.

Harry leans in and presses his mouth to hers again, tongue sweeping over the same place he’d just marked with her slick.

It’s possessive, greedy.

He licks into her mouth like he’s starving, and the kiss nearly sends her reeling.

“Please, I was wet for you all night,” YN finally gives in, “Was thinking about this.”

There’s no point in pretending anymore.

She knows how patient he can be.

Harry doesn’t rush.

He waits, teases, stretches her thin until she’s begging—and she always breaks first.

“About what? Getting your needy cunt touched?” Harry laughs meanly , albeit pleased that she relented because then he can really start being a menace, “Do you think about it all week? Do you think about me all week?”

She should say no.

She should lie.

Because she does think about him, not just the sex.

His laugh, his stupid jokes, the way he looks when he’s concentrating on a trivia question.

But she doesn’t tell him that.

She can’t.

“I want to come,” YN says instead because it seems safer than telling him the truth, she bucks her hips upwards towards his center but doesn't make contact.

“And I want you to behave,” Harry grunts with annoyance in his tone, hands coming to press her hips back down with a harshness that she hadn't had from previous partners.

She loved it.

She lets out a soft moan at the contact, even as frustration builds.

She wishes they weren’t crammed into the backseat of his car.

Wishes she could be stretched out on his bed, bare and unhurried, with his full weight pressing her into the mattress.

“I’ll be good,” YN says, her voice gone kitten-soft and breathy.

It surprises even her, the way it sounds—submissive and sweet.

Not like her at all.

“Show me what I want to see then. Be a good girl,” Harry sits back, his eyes tracing over her body, and resting down on the thick of her thigh - squeezing.

YN briefly wonders if this is how Harry had been with Lauren - dominant but attentive, and that's a twist of jealousy in her stomach that she'd rather not consider right now.

The skirt is already bunched at her waist, fabric wrinkled and forgotten.

Her hand trembles slightly as she dips back down to her center, hooking the gusset of her thong around her fingers and tugging it aside.

It was nerve-wracking to expose the most private part of herself to the man she was crushing on so deeply, had been for so long, and even though he's seen her like this before - it still hadn't become any less intimidating.

“Fuck,” Harry curses when she does so, his hand coming down to almost curiously roll her swollen, hard bud until his thumb, “So puffy f’me. Never seen a prettier pussy.”

And it's probably just a line, he has said those words to the girls that came before her but it still boosted her ego quite a bit.

Emboldened, YN arches her hips into his touch, a pretty moan slipping out as her head tilts back, exposing the soft, pale column of her throat.

“Desperate for my touch, huh?” Harry rasps, ghosting down to tease around her entrance, not dipping in but gathering the wetness there.

“If you don't make me come soon, i'll go back in that bar and get Will,” YN threans with her own smile because she knew he wouldn't like that, “He would get me off.”

Will was one of the DJ’s who ran trivia and he had taken quite a liking to YN, had made it known, and had asked her out a few times.

Harry didn't outwardly admit jealousy but would make snarky comments about how pathetic Will was, how annoying he was, and how he just needed to do his job.

His expression hardens instantly, brows furrowing, top lip curling.

“You think Will could get you off?” He snaps, glancing up from where his fingers still hover just shy of her cunt, “That fucker doesn’t even know where the clit is. You’d be getting licked out until next year.”

“It’d still be quicker than how long it takes you to get me off,” YN shoots back, chin tilted.

Her pulse is thundering in her ears—because she’s poking the bear, and she knows it.

Harry’s easy to rile when it comes to showing off.

He never backs down when his pride is challenged.

His jaw ticks once, eyes narrowing.

Then, in a flash, he's had enough.

“Stop fuckin’ running your mouth,” Harry hisses finally hitting his breaking point, it was impressive because he rarely got to that point this quickly.

Before she can fire off another comeback, Harry grips her hips and yanks her down the seat, until she’s lying flat, skirt bunched at her waist, legs parted.

The leather squeaks under her, echoing in the silence of the car.

His hands grips her ass, firm and rough, pulling her pelvis up until she arches toward him—and then he’s there, his mouth crashing onto her with no warning.

YN cries out as his lips close around her clit, tugging it into his mouth with punishing accuracy.

Her body jolts, trying to flinch back from the intense pressure, but his grip tightens—keeping her locked in place and leaving her no room to wriggle away.

Harry’s nose nudges against her mound, his lips and tongue relentless, like a man feral.

He barely comes up for air, working her over with deep, rhythmic licks and suction that feel like they’re pulling the pleasure straight from the source.

YN reaches down to grab at him, fingers tangled in his curls as she pushes into his mouth before trying to shy away.

He moves one hand from her ass, thumbing over her seam before he's nudging two fingers in until he can pet at the front of her inner walls, scissoring them to make her feel the light, welcome stretch.

“Ye-yeah,” YN can only gasp as the stimulation grows more quickly than she's used to, his fingers and mouth are so knowledgeable , know exactly what their doing, “Oh, I'm clo-close, H.”

His eyes flick up to her, barely visible from this angle, but the glint in them is unmistakable—dark, electric.

His mouth never lets up, tongue lapping at her, lips sealing around her clit again in a rhythm that has her thighs trembling.

His fingers pump into her at a steady, sure pace, and he knows she’s right at the edge.

And then he stops.

Just like that.

He lets her drop back to the leather seat, slick and desperate, the cool air hitting her exposed skin.

She blinks in disbelief, mouth open in shock, hips twitching in search of the sensation that vanished too fast, and watches as he rubs his face against the calf that was hooked over his shoulder.

Harry’s the filthy one, really, because he runs his tongue over where he'd just wiped off her arousal without any shame.

“No, no,” YN complains desperately, she had been so fucking close, tryin to hold it at that delicious almost there bliss for as long as possible and it was starting to fizzle, “No, I didn't come- Harry, I didn't-”

Harry comes to cup her jaw, effectively shutting her up with a thumb pressed roughly against her lip.

“If only our friends knew what a mouthy, greedy lil’ thing you are,” Harry admonishes as he tugs down her bottom lip, his nose nearly brushing hers, “I know you didn’t come, silly girl. I didn’t want you to.”

“But why?” YN snaps at him, the sensitivity was continuing to fizzle out like a sparkler come to the end of it’s life, and it left this unsettled, uncomfortable ache that she was never used to feeling because if a partner was getting her that close - she didn’t have the luxury to edge or she wouldn’t get it back then she just wouldn’t come that time when they had sex.

Harry doesn’t answer with words at first.

His hand drops sharply to her inner thigh, a slap of dominance that makes her yelp—not from pain exactly, but the sting of surprise, of being handled like that.

“Because I said so,” Harry retorts lowly, teeth clenched as his brow draw further together, “I don’t think you’ve earned it. Not sweet ‘nough for me yet.”

“I’m sweet, I’m sweet,” YN knows she sounds like a begging puppy but he was the only person who brought of this desperation in her, this unhinged beahvior where she had no shame because she wanted him so much more than she wanted to keep her dignity.

Harry’s face softens—just a little.

His gaze travels over her flushed face, her trembling body, her wide, needy eyes.

Something fond flickers in his expression, just for a beat, and it makes her chest ache.

“Are you?” He murmurs, voice gone almost gentle in contrast. “How are you gonna show me?”

YN nudges forward to steal a kiss, relieved when he allows it but only for a moment before he’s biting down on her lip as punishment.

Her hand comes down to his center, gripping at him through the tight denim of his jeans, and it made her confidence skyrocket when she felt how rock hard he was for her, twitching underneath her palm at the unexpected touch.

“I’ll suck you,” YN tells him, it’s nowhere near the filth that he spills out but it still felt so foreign rolling off of her tongue, “Please, I want you in my mouth.”

“You’re already getting sweeter,” Harry croons as he bats her hand away, moving to unbutton his jeans, and shove them as well as his briefs down his thighs - he was intimidating, the size - the length and girth of him was enough to stretch the corner of her lips and make them ache, she remembers how it felt last week when she had swallowed him down and made her eyes water.

They’d only been doing this for a few weeks, with a break in between during the holidays when there was no trivia, and she still wasn’t use to handle someone as well endowed as him, her eyes had gone wide the first time she’d seen how pretty he was and he had given her this sleazy, proud smile at the time.

Harry wraps a hand around the base of his cock, thumb brushing the slick head.

Her breath hitches.

She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask.

That she’d wait for him to initiate.

But they hadn’t had penetrative sex yet, sure they’d only hooked up in his car a total of three times now but it hadn’t come up, he hadn’t mentioned even one word of it yet, and she realizes just how much she has been craving him, having him fill her up in a way she’d never felt before.

“C’mon, darling. You’re been so good for me now,” Harry hums as he thumbs over the ruddy, wet tip, it was welcoming, tempting.

“No, I -” YN cuts off because she wants to stop herself, she told herself she wouldn’t, “Want you to fuck me.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, his composed facial expression fades momentarily with the surprise of her words, and his hand stops on his length, “Fuck you?”

“Yes,” YN tries to sound sure of herself but it’s faltering, because she’s not.

“And you’ve earned that?” Harry prompts, his cool demeanor right back in place, the shock disappearing just as fast as it had happened, “Or are you being selfish and trying to get out of sucking cock now that you’ve gotten your own?”

YN’s brow furrow, “I didn’t come though.”

Harry snickers, boyishly because he’s getting off of this, “I forgot, your mouthiness has me distracted.”

And looking back, YN thinks this is what people talk about when they use the term subspace.

She’s never felt like this—never felt safe enough to let go.

Because she’d never experienced it before this point but something in her just breaks, she feels floaty and unashamed - there’s no insecurity, no worries about how desperate she’s acting because all she can thinking about is Harry.

It’s an arousal that clouds anything logical and it feels like she’s in the clouds, drifting and weightless, and that’s she’s fully relying on him to take control.

Tears prickle in the corners of her eyes, not from sadness, but from sheer overwhelm.

“Want it,” she whispers, voice cracking, “Please. I’ll s—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry hushes softly, his tone is more like his normal cadence and not that deep, horny rasp that he gets, “Honey, are you alright?”

YN swallows, her fingers dug into his arms, “Just want t’come.”

Harry laughs quietly, it’s one of the nicest sounds that she’s ever heard, and right now it seems like the most beautiful music to her ears.

“Okay, pretty,” Harry simpers, his demeanor shifts into something more careful, more cautious as he helps pull her up, “Not many ways to do it comfortably in here.”

Invite me back, please.

Is her needy thought, she wants to be spread out on his bed.

But his next words shut down that hope.

“Will you ride me?”

It’s not really a question.

He’s already guiding her, and she follows without fussing.

She doesn’t have time to mourn—he’s sitting back, pulling her into his lap, and her thighs bracket his hips as she lowers down, the thick, flushed head of him brushing against her folds.

The sight of it is obscene.

She wishes she could take a picture, frame it, live inside this moment where he’s so hard and she’s so desperate, spread open and slick with need.

YN’s impatient, she’s never felt so needy in her life, and she couldn’t believe they were actually about to have sex because even when she was with Ben - she fantasized about this more than she’d ever willingly admit to anyone, especially him.

YN goes to grip at him, to guide him but he bumps her out of the way to do it himself, his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, “Tell me what you want.”

“You, want you,” YN babbles, willing to say just about anything if that means that he’ll stop drawing this out.

Harry shakes his head, his expression suddenly serious, and voice more firm, “No, YN. What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me, I want you to fuck me - oh,” YN cuts out with a high-pitched moan because he’s painting himself down towards to press into her folds, thumping against her clit once before he’s tucking himself inside, and once his tip has breached his hands move to her hips to start moving her to sit down on him.

And it stretches, more intense than it’s ever felt with her partners in the past but it wasn’t painful, it was just a new sensation of accommodating, and he was bringing her down slowly, pushing her skirt higher up so he could grip her bare hips.

“Jesus,” Harry grunts out, it’s louder than he’s been since they had piled into his car, startling in the otherwise quiet space apart from their heavy breathing.

YN’s eyes widen, glancing up at him, and she’s knows she must just be moony-eyed, looking at him like he was the best thing in the world, her hair was falling into her eyes, startening to dampen as it got hotter, more humid in the confined area.

Harry lets out a low chuckle, his hand come to pet the hair back and behind her eye, voice hushed and sweet as maple syrup, “I’m sorry, sorry honey, didn’t mean to startle you. You just feel so good.”

“Yeah?” YN blinks at him, it was hard to keep anything straight but he was filling her up so fucking well that she didn’t feel like she was about to rip at the seams anymore.

Harry laughs again, happy and private as he bumps his forehead against hers, “Yeah.”

YN doesn’t do much of the work, her limbs are jello and the way Harry utilizes his grip on her hips has him doing the heavy lifting, hitting her spot dead on every single time, and his rhytmn isn’t fast but it’s steady, consistent, and hard.

There’s tears trickling down her cheeks as her orgasm starts to build again, faster than expected, and she actually feels a swoop of disappointment because it she doesn’t want it to be over when it feels like it really just began.

Her clit brushes up against his pubic bone, smearing her slick there as it gives her the perfect friction, and her fingertips are digging into the skin of his clothed shoulder because he was still fully dressed and that didn’t feel quite right but it was too late now.

“Can feel you squeezin’ on me,” Harry hums as he brings her down and sits her there, stops her hips from moving as he plants his feet and starts to thrust up into her, “Are you close, sweetheart? Do you need help?”

YN shakes her head, sniffling slightly as she rolls her hips into his thrusts, “Don’t wan’na.”

Harry doesn’t stop all together but he slows his rhythm, “Don’t want to what, honey? Talk to me.”

“Don’t want to come, don’t want it to be over,” YN admits as she blinks through the film at him and the look he has on his face, well it’s one that she’s never seen before but her brain isn’t in the place to be able to decipher that right now.

“I’ll give you another,” Harry promises, his hands slipping down to grip her bum and pull her even fruther into his lap until their chests are pressing together, tilting his head up to bite at the underside of her jaw, “I’ve earned a squeeze though, haven’t I? Get me wet, darling.”  And YN wishes those words didn’t get to her as easily as they did but it works, her hilts jittling to a stop as she grinds harshly into him, head falling backwards, and he starts sucking a mark right at the center of her throat that she can’t even start to be mad about.

“You’re so pretty, never seen anything prettier on my cock,” Harry groans as he picks up his thrusts, she was sensitive, it didn’t feel as pleasant but she still wanted it, wanted to feel how much he wanted her, and he was throbbing, “Fuck, where do you -”

“In me,” YN’s hand cups the nape of his neck, it felt like there was no other thoughts in her mind.

“Fuckin’ christ,” Harry responds as he squeezes her backside hard enough that she feels pinpricks of pain, knowing it was going to leave marks, and being happy about that, a memento from the best sex of her life, “How’d I get so lucky to get you on me?”

YN doesn’t have time to respond, wasn’t going to anyways when she feels him start to pulse, twitch as he starts to come, his hips slowing to a sluggish pace as he starts to come down from it, panting as sweat beads on his forehead - it was hot, sticky in the car now after all the physical activity.

Harry moves quicker than she can keep up with, plopping her back onto the seat and pinning her against the door as he wedges himself between her thighs.

It’s filthy, it’s something she’s never had anyone do but he swipes at her entrance, tasting himself before he’s wrapping his lips around her bud, and starting that tortuous pulsing that he’d done prior, only this time it doesn’t take more than a minute because she’s already hypersensitive from the first orgasm and he doesn’t tease.

No, instead he rides her through it, chasing after her like a starving man when she rears her hips away, and whines after she’s rode it out, “Too much.”

She was still floating, still teary as Harry wipes her up with a clean gym towel he had in his duffel, hands her an unopened bottle water before helping hero ut of the backseat, and walking her towards her car with a hand on her lower back.

He gives her a hug that seems far to platonic for what they just did, things suddenly awkward like they have been after every single time they’ve done this, and then he’s opening her car door and waving ‘bye’ before he’s heading back to his own.

YN doesn’t know why she starts crying as soon as she pulls out of the lot, why she has to park on a side road because her brain isn’t cooperating, and the pit of emptiness in her chest that wasn’t there prior was now gnawing away at her.

#harry styles writing #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #au writing #writing #harry styles fic #one direction #harry styles fiction

353 notes · View notes

astrogre · 5 months ago

Text

Astro observations 4

Lilith in Leo and Aries can have unconventional, rebellious hairstyles that stand out and perhaps aren’t considered what most say is beautiful but they do it for themselves e.g. a buzz cut, dying hair eccentric colours, having a flamboyant big hairstyle that others consider inappropriate to society

If you’re interested in being an actor, or ever wanted to know the roles you’d play best: look at the planets in your second house. They describe the kind of character you’d play well because 2H shows the skills and traits needed for us to make money. So if you were acting you’d get paid for showing the skills of the planets in your 2H in the role you’d get cast for. I’ve noticed actors who play roles that match their 2nd house planet become known, or most successful for it.

E.g Uranus 2H: Benedict Cumberbatch- Played as Sherlock holmes (role required themes of intellect, eccentricity, thinking outside of the box to be Sherlock) same with Dr Strange (very ironic because Uranus literally represents things that are weird).

Pluto 2H: playing as villains, morally questionable characters, surgeons, morticians, taxidermy artist, piercing artist, gang member, scaring people. Johnny depp has this placement and his most profitable roles were as Jack sparrow, Edward scissor hands, sweeny Todd, all to do with slicing using a sword scissors or a knife and immoral characters

I’ve noticed the fama asteroid doesn’t really depict the ‘good’ kind of fame, if you look into famous people’s charts, Fama tends aspect or to be in the house where they were in a scandal or something shameful.

E.g Kamala Harris has Pluto and Venus conjunct fama, she’s infamously accused of sleeping her way to power because her affair was made public

Ben Shapiro has his mercury conjunction fama, and I’m sure you know his views are not taken with the most respect. He gets harassed quite often for it.

Elon Musk has fama conjunct Uranus in 3rd house while he posts 4chan content and always is being called out for saying some ‘degenerate’ or ‘erratic’ opinion on Twitter.

Justin Bieber has Jupiter at 14 degrees conjunct the Fama asteroid in his 12th house—the house of hidden meanings and secrets. The degree, 14, aligns roughly with the age when he reportedly spent 48 hours with Diddy and was generously gifted a sportscar. He also got signed by Usher at 14 (Usher was Diddys mentee). Notably, this placement is in Scorpio, the sign associated with joint resources, power dynamics, and sex organs. Even now this remains a subject of gossip and speculation, with some suggesting that the generosity and “mentorship” (themes linked to Jupiter’s higher learning and expansion) from Diddy played a pivotal role in jumpstarting Bieber’s career, particularly in relation to the music industry’s power structures. Another thing to note is that he flew abroad from Canada to USA for this to happen to him which lead to him getting famous. (Jupiter represents foreign relations)

Fama is more of a humiliating but entertaining ‘tea’ placement. And not everyone wants to become a controversial kind of famous, some people may want to become famous for their talents and their contributions to the industry they work in. People who are famous and don’t have strong fama placements can actually have a good reputation with their fame. People won’t try to make fun of you or a spectacle of your life to mock you. This is why we can see very famous adored people like princess Diana have no fama aspects yet was in the limelight of it all. Whereas Camilla has Fama conjunct ascendant. Fama is more gossipy, the kind of stuff you don’t really want to be known for. Rumours that defame your character and make you look like a bad person.

If you want to see what nasty things people say about you behind your back, and what they gossip about, look at your fama asteroid.

I have noticed that Venus in the 8th house can result in them thinking someone is interested in them when they’re not. I’ve also seen that these natives really get hurt in love like there’s some unreciprocated dynamic in their relationships if they experience pain from them. It can be people trying to use them, like becoming friends with them so they can have access to a guy the native knows, you can have your partner “stolen” from you by others

Virgo Mars love to make their partners stressed or see them stressing out/ how they handle stressful situations. They will respect you a lot if you can take stress and high expectations, multi task them like it’s nothing, or taking in the toll but managing it with order and planning

Scorpio Mars/Mars in 10th/Mars ruled MC house have the scary smile. Your smile can be seen as rather menacing, uncanny. People like this that have this placement are Joseph Stalin, Joaquin Phoenix, Khloe Kardashian, Bruce Lee, Mark Zuckerberg, Usher, Charlie Sheen. I can’t describe it but it’s a smile that’s like “ILL KILL YOU 😁”, the eyes look haywire yet locked on target, the smile is exaggerated and almost too joyful, face distorted in excitement like it’s dying to start something, it makes sense since 10H can show bone structure and mars being here can add an edge to it.

Oh and don’t forget that Mark Zuckerberg smile meme (he also has Scorpio Mars), a lot of these natives are known for their menacing smile and presence. Also you guys are villainised yet kind of respected for it. I’ve seen it prevalent in the men. E.g Joaquin Phoenix’s joker smile, Charlie Sheen + Bruce Lee + Khloe Kardashian showing anti social behaviour and becoming respected for it. If you commit crimes people might like you more 💀

This made me think of the British musician Aphex twin, who has the creepiest smile. I looked at his chart and guess what? He has a Aries MC, midheaven ruled by Mars and look at that smile:

Mars in Cancer specifically in 1st house can hold a lot of resentment towards their mother, get into nasty arguments with her, name calling or blame their mother for how they look and find their appearance annoying. On a more positive note these natives can do everything in their power for their mothers. At best natives with this placement can be feminists, in support of women in power. At worst they can despise ‘pathetic’ women and end up treating their wives with the same level of hatred too. Or just degrade women because of their own insecurities

e.g. Lord Byron, a British poet who blamed his mother for his foot deformity and would often call her names and unleash his rage on his wife, cheating on her egregiously

Sun conjunct Uranus makes someone very good with innovation, numerical values, science and maths. Your big highlight in this life may be that you invent something not thought of before. E.g people with this placement: Ada Lovelace- the creator of the first algorithm, John Von Neumann- A scientific genius who pioneered the modern computer, game theory, nuclear deterrence. He was described as so smart he made his teacher cry from doing complex calculus in his head at the age of 6 💀.

Since 1H can show how you present yourself, it can tell you the clothing you wear in your daily outfits, which made me think of how each planet in the first house may dress.

Neptune 1H can wear fantasy clothing, cosplay, fancy dress, masquerade masks, covid masks, any mask, magical accessories like iridescent tights, tiaras

Saturn 1H can incorporate historical tradition clothing like a timeless TAILORED clothing, think top hats, timeless coats, Victorian style dresses, also can have corsets as Saturn shows restrictions. It reminds me of that 1800s kind of look

Moon 1H can wear soft comforting clothes like vintage slips, nightgowns, pyjamas and loungewear, babydoll dresses, chunky knit fleece/coat

Mercury 1H can wear smart uniforms, plaid skirts, blazers, graphic t-shirts with slogans or logos, suspenders, ties, glasses, just very witty and youthful

Pluto 1H can wear intimidating darker clothes like chokers, gothic clothes, long trench coats, hoodies, all black, latex, bodycon, face coverings

Jupiter 1H can wear cultural clothing like kimonos, sarees/lenghas, bohemian styles, togas/roman inspired clothing, or like embroidered tunics

Mars 1H can wear combat military clothing, like camouflage, leather, fingerless gloves, ski masks, harnesses, military jacket, those belts or garters that can hold weapons like knives and guns

Sun 1H can wear statement clothing, designer logo branded pieces, fluffy clothes like furr , jewellery, this one’s more varied because Sun is the expression of self so they can actually wear stuff based more on the sign

Venus 1H can wear standard beauty centered clothing like corsets, brooches, lace, satin, heels, off the shoulder tops, pointed loafers and ascots for men, impractical fabrics, they’re more likely to wear things that aren’t necessarily comfortable but they come at the price of beauty.

Uranus 1H can incorporate unique futuristic, punk, techwear, platform shoes , noticed men can look disheveled almost, unique pvc reflective metallic fabrics, can have tech in their clothes, asymmetrical clothing, shoes that don’t match, they can be known for their unique choices in clothing too. The kind that makes people stop and think “what am I looking at rn”

Planets conjunct your ascendant are basically the main contributor to the method you approach your life with. For an example an Aries ascendant conjunct 12H Mercury can have a “I CAN DO IT ALL” mindset to everything in their life while actually using their mind to whip up and improvise a plan quickly out of nowhere, whereas if mercury wasn’t conjunct - they may not be as quick witted for the situations that occur in their life or be as tactical, they’d be like action with little plan, a river with no path but trusting on its flow.

Neptune in 11H might make you difficult to find online, your stalkers are seething. Maybe you don’t post, can have hidden private accounts or your page can look really magical like a Pinterest board but it’s hard to get a lot out of you solely based on your digital footprint

Also another thing, Neptune is NOT your friend lol, Neptune is a deceiver. I find it so interesting because people see Neptune as pure but it distorts reality and blurs the lines but makes it really pretty. Reminds me of Glinda from Wicked or hextech from arcane. It can be difficult for even the native because they may not realise they can deceive others as much as they do it to themselves. Wherever Neptune is in your chart can show who you deceive. Or how you’re deceived 3H siblings, 4H lying to family or about where you come from etc. You can also be lied to about missing family members or the roots of where you came from. 7H could be your clients and romantic partners can lie to you about what they want, 12H people could lie about you behind your back but you can struggle to trace where it comes from, you can also be completely oblivious to your subconscious thoughts. 10h can easily make you the scapegoat at work.

Venus 6H and their consistency in their beauty routines e.g skincare is what many aspire to. They are constantly glowing up since 6H shows our daily routines and self improvement so having Venus here can make you look prettier day by day. It’s like that “oh you keep getting prettier than the last time I saw you..”

Uranus 6H can overcome an illness that nobody would have thought they would. This is because wherever Uranus is in the chart can show where you rebel and bounce back in a way that nobody expected. With it being in 6H which also rules your health, you can surprise others by your illnesses, if you are ill you can have a rare condition or you’re the kind of person who gets sick like all the time but recovers the next day

Virgo moons feel sooo much fulfilment in being the cause of someone else’s satisfaction, it made me think of the UK onlyfans model Lily Philips, she slept with 100 random men in 24 hours in a documentary, afterwards she cried and felt horrible and used and said that she was most upset about the fact that she couldn’t make them all finish. A very sad documentary. But it really highlighted the nature of Virgo moons NEEDing to serve, to please. They say Libra are the people pleasers but honestly I’d give that one to Virgo, except usually virgos pickier with who they decide to please.

Lily Philips also has Fama conjunct Neptune, she’s famous for the sexual fantasy she portrays and the false image she shows to others, she’s so different from how she acts when making her OF content. This also proves my earlier said point about fama being scandalous as well because Lily has SOOOO much hate and gossip due to her “deceiving” image that’s the influence of Neptune for you. Might analyse her chart later.

Having both Pluto and moon in the 1H can create a silent brooding type of attractive. Adrien Brody has this placement and really embodies an edgy but comforting gaze. He is tall, has emotional melancholic eyes from moons effect yet has high contrast, intense dark features. I think it’s a really interesting mix of traits to have in the first house

Chiron in Libra can make someone be rather insecure of their appearance, usually body and face or femininity. They feel like they’re not beautiful enough. Anya Taylor joy , Maisie Williams, Kylie Jenner, Dolly Parton, Freddie Mercury, have this placement and all have publicly known insecurities based on their appearance despite them being inspirational to others for getting the limelight and praise without looking like everyone else. They pick at themselves quite a lot.

I always raise my eyebrow when I see a Pluto conjunct Lilith/Uranus in a chart. That person can be very dark, they can bring about a side of humanity that most people don’t want to discuss yet are fascinated with. They are capable of some really…. scary things. Especially if all 3 asteroids and planets are conjunct to each other. Pluto is intense it’s dark, it’s controlling but when it’s conjunct Uranus it now has chaos, rebellion, Lilith also rebels but it’s unapologetic, it may make people scared and trigger primal fears because of how messy the person is, these people can be really explosive. They’re also really intimidating, i could imagine the group anonymous that leaked classified government documents having this kind of placement. They literally go into the guttural trenches of inhumanity and bring out its findings then present it to the naive public like a cat dragging a rodents scathed body to the owner expecting a reward. It can be impressive sometimes, you often think “how did you even come up with the idea to do this?”

#astrology #astro posts #astro notes #astro placements #astro community #astrology observations #astro observations #astroblr #astro #learning astrology #neptune 1st house #pluto in 1st house

920 notes · View notes

warnersister · 1 year ago

Text

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

2K notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 8 hours ago

Text

Harry

502 words | Harry Castillo x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist Summary: you meet the perfect guy, and things become intimate Warnings: 18+ mdni. Meet cute, f!oral (Harry eats it from the back), rimming, anal play, praise kink, piv. No age specified

a/n: drabble for the trope search @jolacheese (anal play) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for being my sweetheart, and for beta-ing me💕🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

The first time you saw him, it was at the Tribeca Film Festival. You were there for business. He was wearing a black suit, an emerald ring shining around his finger. You smiled at each other.

The second time, you were reading a book on a bench, in a park. He was jogging. You smiled again when he passed by you.

The third time was in a restaurant.

“Third time we meet,” he said, eyes so soft you wished you could drown in them. “That's a sign, isn't it?” He gave you his card, told you to call or text him if you wished. Harry Castillo.

Your first date was in a restaurant.

His brown eyes were beautiful, his smile devastating. Wearing a black sweater and pants, all casual but the clothes were fitting his body perfectly. He invited you for a nightcap, and pressed you against the wall leading to his bedroom. When he kissed you, his hands roaming over your body so sensually, you knew you were screwed.

Several dates and weeks later, you were on your elbows and knees, ass tilted back in his $12 million penthouse, with the most beautiful view in front of you. But you didn't care about it.

You couldn't think about anything else but his hands on your hips, and his cock pushing into your cunt.

Once or twice, he pulled out and ate you from the back. Pussy first, his nose brushing against your ass so perfectly, his big hands keeping you open for him.

Your ring, then. Making you stifle a cry into his satin sheets, as he lapped at it, softing its resistance. Then he darted at it with the tip of his tongue.

He straightened up and thrusted in again, slowly. Your wet, tight pussy was taking him perfectly, and little groans escaped his throat.

He wasn't in a rush. He loved to fuck you slowly, deeply. Loved to lean towards you, covering your back with his broad chest without leaving your heat. Seizing your chin with two fingers to kiss you.

Loved to feed your cunt his whole length, again and again, his hands holding your hips as if they were molded for it.

He slid his hand to your ass and spread your cheeks to reveal your tight ring, still glistening with his saliva. Brushed it with his middle finger, spreading the wetness a little, then replaced it with his thumb. He didn't push, at first. He just kept his finger there, feeling you throb under his skin.

He kept fucking you, slowly, deeply.

His knuckle slightly passed the barrier that was eager to let him in now.

“You're gonna come for me, baby?” he asked, his voice low and soft as velvet. “I can feel how much you love it, having my thumb right here, right where you need it.”

You whined, unable to answer. Your moans got weaker and weaker until you clenched on his shaft, listening to his praise.

Harry Castillo.

Yeah, you were screwed.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary

npt (some moots who might like it ❤️) @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @604to647 @schnarfer

#harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo x you #materialists #pedro pascal #the materialists #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo smut #harry castillo materialists #harry castillo fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #materialists 2025 #materialists movie #trope search

158 notes · View notes

lnfours · 9 months ago

Note

Heyyy congrats on the milestone🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Can you please do prompt 6 and 9 from list 2 where lan picks drunk reader up from a night out and just kinda takes care of her

Thank you💜

thank u anon! also the thought of this warmed my heart in a way i can’t describe ☹️ alsooooo best friend!lando bc.. yeah!!!!!

prompt 6: “hey, you’re shivering…” followed by their hand gently tugging your body closer to theirs while they rest their chin on top of your head.

prompt 9: being extremely gentle when you’re close to them.

join the 12k and annual celebration!

“where’re you at?” lando’s voice sounded through the speakers of your phone. however, you didn’t catch the sound of the jingle of keys in the background, or the sound of his front door closing.

“mm,” you hummed, turning around on the sidewalk to look at the bar behind you, “harry’s?”

he chuckled softly on the other end of the phone, car door closing as he hopped into the drivers seat, “you don’t sound so sure.”

“‘m not,” you slurred, “whatever bar has the really overly talkative dj. can’t believe he decided to get on the mic during the only good song he played all night. can you believe that?”

he smiled on the other end, putting the pieces together on where you were, “well, what song was it?”

you hiccuped quietly, but he caught it on his end, “best song ever by one direction!”

“that asshole,” lando said, typing in the address for the bar you were at, “listen, i’ll be there in ten minutes, alright? you stay put. don’t go anywhere with anyone. got it?”

you fake saluted, even though he couldn’t see you, “yes sir,”

“good, okay, i’ll see you soon.”

“see you soon,” you smiled, hanging up the phone before sitting down on the curb in front of the bar. after sitting there for a few minutes, your friends had finally walked out of the bar.

“we’re heading back to abby’s!” your friend, jasmine, smiled, “you coming?”

“no,” you shook your head, “my ride’s almost here.”

“did you call an uber?”

“something like that,” you smiled, “don’t worry, i’ll be fine.”

“what do you mean ‘something like that’?” the blonde, abby, asked. her question was answered a few seconds later when a car pulled up in front of your group. the mclaren being a dead giveaway of who you called.

the girls teased you, a cluster of ‘aww’s and ‘how cute’s coming from them before you flipped them off playfully. lando rounded the back of the car, clad in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that was a sign that he had been planning on going to bed before you called.

“evening ladies,” he smiled at the girls behind you before looking down at you, “ready, princess?”

you nodded, sticking your hands out to him. he helped you up off the curb, noticing your shivering state. the nighttime breeze and the revealing dress you were wearing making you cold.

“hey, you’re shivering,” he said, pulling you into a hug and leaning his head on yours in efforts to warm you up, “why didn’t you bring a jacket? you know it gets chilly at night in the fall,”

you hummed, basking in his warmth and the smell of him. he smelled clean, like he had just gotten out the shower, with a hint of the scent of his laundry detergent. his cologne from the day before still lingering on his skin. he smelled like home.

“accidentally left it on my bed,” you mumbled into his chest, his head resting on top of yours, “wasn’t cold til i came out here.”

he chuckled, “probably helped sober you up a bit,” he said, pulling away from the hug and leaning down to brush a stray hair from your face, “hungry?”

you nodded and he smiled, “okay, let’s get you in the car.”

you let him lead you to the passenger side door. the both of you bidding your group a goodbye as they all watched with knowing smiles and smirks.

once he got you buckled, he closed the door and made his way to his own side. he pushed the heat up for your side of the car, wanting you to get warmth back into your body.

“what’dya want for food?” he asked, pulling away from the curb before looking over at you.

“really want pancakes,” you said.

“you want pancakes at,” he paused to read the time on the display of his car, “eleven o’clock at night.”

you nodded, looking over at him and god he couldn’t say no to that face, “please?”

“okay, pancakes it is.”

you smiled, absentmindedly reaching for his hand on the center console, your cold hands wanting the warmth from his body back, “your hands are warm,”

he smiled, letting you hold his hand in yours, despite the fact that they felt like icicles, “because i actually dress according to the weather, thank you.”

“says the man who wears hoodies in the middle of summer,” you retorted, “no room to talk.”

he laughed softly, pulling into the parking spot in front of his house, “got me there, i suppose.”

he managed to get you in the house easily, you sitting at the kitchen counter and watching him rummage through the cupboards to find the ingredients to make pancakes. you couldn’t help but stare at him in the dim light, your heart clenching in your chest as you watched him.

he was making you pancakes. at eleven at night. after picking you up from the bar. what about him wasn’t there to love?

your feet were moving before you could think about it, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. he smiled as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, his freehand coming down and placing it over yours.

“tired?”

you hummed in response.

“once you eat we can go to bed,” he said, his voice soft as he poured the batter into the pan, “promise.”

“can we cuddle?” you asked, picking your head up and smiling at him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“whatever you want,” he smiled back.

613 notes · View notes

rjunhuang · 2 months ago

Text

how the harry potter boys would react to you hooking up with someone else. — part two.

featuring: cedric diggory, neville longbottom, blaise zabini, oliver wood, theodore nott.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. informal writing?? they're a bit toxic. bullying. boys are dumb. kissing. unhealthy coping mechanisms. my depiction/fanon!theo. mentions of weed, smoking & other substances. mentions of sex.

note: here's ur part two!! thank u for all the love and support for the first part. y'all had me smiling and shit. send in requests for more prompts if y'all would like that.

part one | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

cedric! there's no doubt that cedric diggory is a people's pleaser. all in all, he has a heart of gold but he's blinded by naivety to realise the red flags of his friend group. unfortunately, their toxicity does sometimes have an affect on the said golden boy. thus how a heated and disheartened rant about how you chose roger davies over him to his friends would lead to gossip, tattletales, and undeniable amounts of insolent comments. the 'rumours' of you and davies would spread like wildfire with those chatterboxes, and especially not positive ones on the ravenclaw guy. you'd caught clear moments where cedric would be snickering along with his mates as their eyes followed the motions of your boytoy.

he'd been laying down on the fresh grass with the support of his elbow, a cheeky grin spread across his lips as his gaze switches back and forth between his friends and the couple. some goon would get the brilliant idea to throw a core of an apple at roger. cedric's cheery expression would immediately drain out of him and be replaced with one of regret — "wait, come on, you didn't have to do that." he'd even shoot you a sympathetic look when your gazes connect.

this would be a common occurrence as his friends only grew more confident with their obvious distaste towards your fling. almost every matter would result in an apology from cedric, whether verbal or not.

"my friend was being a dick so, uhm, sorry about him. truly." his voice soft and airy; it brings the same sensation as a sugar cookie.

on the other side of things, you'd begun receiving bouquets of flowers and hampers of your favourite foods — someone was definitely keeping an eye on what you sneakily snacked on during classes. it would always be signed with a beautiful doodle of a butterfly, and sometimes if you were lucky enough, a short sentence of a romantic affirmation. it would've been creepy had there not been cute attempts from your admirer to prove otherwise. every note addressed to you would always have some sort of psa in brackets like 'i'll totally stop if you want me to', 'i really hope i'm not coming off as creepy' or a silly self-deprecating joke to turn the intensity of it all down. it also couldn't be creepy given the time with cedric's friends and this secret admirer fiasco being so obviously correlated.

you knew for certain that these gifts weren't coming from roger. sure, the attention the ravenclaw gave you made you feel desired and attractive.. but he barely even cared to get to know you. dates with roger were so dang boring — it felt like an awkward, unwarranted staring contest. it was clear he was only attracted to you visually. roger would never know you the way this secret admirer (who was so obviously diggory) did. it made you feel giddy — the epitome of a high school student in love. it wouldn't be long before you dump davies.

entering his muggle studies classroom, cedric would find a note placed on the desk where he usually sits, along with a daffodil. it reads — 'i hope you like flowers, diggory, because our date's going to be at the greenhouse.' unlike him though, the note is signed with the clear letters of your name. it's safe to say cedric was having trouble focusing on the rest of his class, his head in the clouds at the thought of you returning feelings.

neville! it's unspoken rule that you and neville longbottom were to be herbology partners no matter what. it became a habit after years of doing so. you two worked best in the partnership of each other, earning highest ranks in the subject throughout all your years. but.. that was it, really. the moment you stepped out of the greenhouse and entered to real world of hogwarts, all sense of familiarity between one another left your bodies. you always chalked it up as neville being too shy to interact with you outside of class, and vice versa. it didn't really bother you. something about those tender moments during class hours warmed you up like no other. it was special and vulnerable and if it could only be obtained between the confines of many plants and some jabbering students; so be it.

to neville, it made sense that you guys were strangers outside of herbology. i mean, merlin, you were one of a kind. you brought a light into a room that no one could resist looking away from. like moths drawn to a flame, you gained sort of a status among popularity. there was no way a guy like neville should be seen near a person like you. or so he thought.

it shouldn't have been a surprise that neville was one of the last to find out that you were going on dates with dean thomas of all wizards. aesthetically (and probably personally for all he knew too), dean and you were a match made in heaven. both popular enough, well-liked, and most certainly good-looking. yet despite it all, neville still couldn't help but feel so bummed. he didn't even want to think of what it meant for your upcoming lessons in herbology together. how you'd stop clutching onto his shoulder to laugh at whatever awkwardly funny thing he'd said or no longer timidly compliment his good work for the day before leaving the class. would you smile at him less? reserve them for dean instead? the thought was awful enough and neville was certain he didn't want to know the answer to these insecurities.

when the next lesson of herbology rolled in, you were definitely surprised to see neville seated with hannah abbott instead. you tried to shrug it off, thinking of it as a one time occurrence. but, oh, were you so wrong.

he was ignoring you. you knew by the way he'd purposefully avoided your eyes with a gulp as you'd try to catch his attention during class. he'd placed himself rows away from you, secretly admiring you with yearnful eyes. the thought of you and dean never left his mind. and if you tried to talk to him? he was straight out the door the minute class was dismissed, running away in his usual, clumsy manner.

the lack of neville's presence in your life saddened you a lot more than you expected. you found yourself drawn to the greenhouses even during odd hours, reminiscing over the memories you had spent there with the gryffindor boy among the years.

the dirt under your hands seems to ease your mind of any worries as you take it upon yourself to fix a broken potted plant. you'd be so preoccupied by the task, you fail to notice a certain boy walk in and get stunned by the sight of you in there. neville's arm flying up and almost knocking over an empty glass jar was what brings your attention to him. you have to resist the small smile creeping up the corner of your lips. neville, on the other hand, straightens up after he gently places the jar where it supposed to be. his head is down as he mumbles, "right, sorry, i'l—" "stay." your gloved hand immediately flies over to grab his wrist, doing your best not to dirty him. "please." the pleading eyes of yours seem to work as neville makes no attempt to dash out as usual. he stays firm in his place, watching you with wide eyes. seeing that he doesn't speak up, you do the honours instead. "i've missed you. you don't seem to want to sit with me anymore." you gently start with a soft smile. the words 'i've missed you' knock the wind right out of neville. his heart stutters and mind dizzies. "oh— i just— dean, you know? thought you wouldn't have wanted to talk to me anymore. i—i mean dean's great! perfect! you're super fit. obviously, great. who wouldn't like you? hah, i certainly do, but i didn't want to bother—" your lips are crashing against his the next second with burning cheeks. it shuts neville up from his rambling. he can only gawk at you when you pull away, his face beet red. "i think you're pretty fit yourself, nev." you manage giggle out.

blaise! michael corner was great. those were the words you used to describe your recent date with him. those were also the words your friends, pansy parkinson and theodore nott, affirmed back to you. they, along with a silent blaise zabini, were the first to hear the news about your love life's new contender.

sitting by the courtyard, you twiddle your thumbs nervously after revealing your budding romance with corner. pansy, the closest to you physically and personally, happens to notice your skittish demeanour — well, it's hard not to. "michael corner? the ravenclaw? that's great. he's great." her voice slightly strains and you don't know if this is her attempt to ease your nerves or if she's incapable of genuinely complimenting a man. "oh, yeah — great." theodore adds, with a devillish grin, which earns a shove on the shoulder from the girl. they then share an odd look (well, more of a glare from pansy) together. there's a silent conversation happening which only confuses you. who knew nott and parkinson suddenly gained the ability of telepathy. dismissing their odd reactions, you take the opportunity to glance over to blaise — who has his head down, reading a potions textbook. you don't know why you yearn for blaise's approval but he remains silent, deeply entrenched in his reading. you chalk it up to him being in one of his nonverbal, introverted moods and don't try to take his lack of interest in the news too personally.

over the course of time, nothing much changed between your friend group. it still contained the dynamic of pansy and theodore bickering, whilst you and blaise mediated. though, once in a while, you jumped in on the banter yourself.

"oh, nothing better than ganging up on nott, yeah?" theodore would sarcastically chime in with the roll of his eyes.

things with michael had been going well enough, a little slow maybe. your time spent with your friends on some days got cut short due to your plans with him. sometimes, you swore you saw a twitch in blaise's jaw whenever you brought up your fling's name. but maybe that was your imagination — how could blaise be annoyed or upset if his expression remained completely neutral? had you not known him better, one might think he was bored in the company of his friends with that face of his.

after weeks of slacking off, you decide to make this particular day a studious and productive one. given your big age, it was best to be responsible and get some extra reading done for your studies. you can't blame blaise for his similar habits — education at hogwarts seemed to be growing tougher day by day. it's why today you'd do your rare visit to the library. struggling to reach for a copy of 'magical drafts and potions', you feel yourself grow a little self-conscious by your foolish-looking predicament. however, a hand from behind startles you, saving you from the plight. you blink in surprise, craning your head to see who this mysterious helper is. blaise is looking down at you with a hint of a smirk. he's still hovering behind you, hand clutched onto the spine of your desired book. the ghost of his smirk is irresistible to look at. you feel a little shameless staring at his lips like this but, merlin, the intensity of this moment has you fully engulfed. you swear you see his smirk widen a little and blaise takes the opportunity to poke fun at your blatant staring. "still think you want corner?" blaise's voice is monotone to a deaf ear, but you can tell he's feeling a bit smug. he gives you no chance to reply, handing the book over before walking out. you stand there baffled, bewildered and actually questioning if any other wizard could set your heart ablaze the way zabini just did.

oliver! oliver wood loved his routines. he loved to wake up at dawn to train before the morning birds are even ready to sing. he, well, endured the classes he's forced to sit and progress through in order to keep quidditch in his life. he loved to charge back into the fields after lunch, ready for another day of practice. and surprisingly to most, he loved to hang out with you by the black lake afterwards, all sweaty and disheveled from the exhilarating sport.

he's not oliver wood if he's breaking these habits.

so the one day he didn't show up to your cute little meeting point, you're stunned. you thought — oh godric, all those jokes you made about 'a bludger getting to him before you-know-who ever did' have finally come true. he must be dead if he's not living up to his schedule!

but you're wrong. he's certainly not in the care of madam pomfrey or working overtime at the quidditch field as both places were definitely deserted when you came by to check.

so where the hell was the captain? see, unbeknownst to you, oliver caught you snogging marcus flint right as he approached the lake. slytherin quidditch captain marcus flint. he found it crazy how out of all the students you could've picked to kiss, it was the one man oliver despised. they were practically enemies. and though you owed him no decision-making in your love life, oliver felt betrayed. hence, he turned his heels, making no effort to disturb the two of you as he stormed his way back to his dorm.

the following silent treatment and petty attitude from him left you more or less disheartened. he was a close confidant, and the way he managed to drop you without a word shattered you. he'd stop talking to you overall. you even learned from a conversation with alicia spinnet that he'd started to become a lot more grumpy during practices — harder on his teammates, giving them lesser breaks, he'd brought forth a sort of 'no pain, no gain' attitude into the environment.

any time you glanced his way, you noticed the bags under his dark eyes. clearly, his nights were nothing but restless. if you thought he was obsessed with quidditch before? you'd hate to see him now. he'd never left the fields or his broom unless madam hooch or, worse, professor mcgonagall dragged him out of there by his ear themselves.

concerned would be an understatement. this man was tweaking out all because of you and flint. pretty sure he'd recovered from quidditch loses better than this.

you're practically rushing to the hospital wing when you hear the news that wood collapsed in the middle of practice. that lack of sleep must've gotten to him because oliver is beyond exhausted. madam pomfrey has forced him into bedrest (she'd have him shackled to the beds had it not been illegal) — he can certainly lay off quidditch for a while. worry paints your features as you peer down at oliver, clutching onto the side of the bed. he can only (attempt to) glare at you as you flood him with questions about his health. "why haven't you been sleeping? have you been eating? why are you overworking yourself like this — interhouse isn't until next season." oliver scoffs, his throat a little croaky. "why do you care?" he grumbles, crossing his arms like an upset toddler in the process. "don't you have flint to fret over?" and it hits you — after days of this trivial behaviour from wood — that this man was fucking jealous. you don't know if it's inconsiderate to laugh at this realisation, so you resist. "we ended things." is all you give him, holding back from any sort of expression. it's clear you really don't feel bummed by it. the reaction you get from him is beyond elated. he breaks out into a grin and you can practically see the confidence return to his system. he's looking at you like he wants to sweep you off your feet and kiss you. like he's just won the lottery. so bloody euphoric, all oliver can reply is "oh."

theodore! he is a pretty codependent person in my eyes. especially since he's recovering from a weighted past. when you started hooking up with ernie macmillan, all his bad habits came crashing down. you were his anchor — he'd often vent to you about his problems with his father at home or whatever struggles he faced with his friends sometimes. he hated to know that any brewing feelings he had towards you were never going to be reciprocated.

he started going to class high. it's so miserable to witness. he promised you before that he'd quit or at least lay off on his substance related habits a bit — that he'd only do it socially if he wanted. showing up to class with red eyes and a mind elsewhere was not smoking socially. it's a miracle professor snape had his biases towards slytherins because if another teacher as observant as the greasy haired twat were to catch theodore, he could kiss goodbye to hogwarts. thankfully, snape never noticed this change either, too busy shaming a gryffindor during his classes instead.

soon, you were hearing rumours of nott breaking every girls heart out there. it's one game after another with them. which was all the more surprising because theodore was never really a player. most of the public saw him as one of those untouchable hot guys — he was much less likely to sleep around compared to his other slytherin companions. it was like theodore had done a full hundred and eighty. his mindset was; if you were going to be messy, why couldn't he?

your final straw would be at the news of his newfound habit of getting into fights. seeing him enter the great hall every morning with a black eye became an uncomfortably common occurrence. sporting and piling up this many wounds was a horrific sight. it seemed like even malfoy and his goons were growing concerned.

theodore had been on his way out after breakfast — probably ready to sneak into a hidden cranny or abandoned room to light himself a joint before classes were to start. only merlin knew whether he'd decide to skip a few of these classes or not today. his exit out the great hall was cut short when he passes by the hufflepuff table. in a matter out seconds, one of the boys from the house is pinned to the table, food scattered and other peers watching in horror. theodore's knuckles turn white from how hard he's clutching onto the guy's collar. you can only helplessly shoot up from wherever you're seated. the expression theodore holds is too grim that you have no backbone to interfere. whatever he's sneering to the hufflepuff is inaudible to the rest of the students present. it's not long before one of the faculty pulls them apart — "it's far too early for such nonsense!" screeches mcgonagall in her distinguished scottish accent.

judging by whatever the hell you had witnessed earlier that morning, you knew you couldn't keep allowing theo to shut you out like this.

pacing around in circles, you wait in the moonlit courtyard for your close friend. without a doubt, he'd show up in need to escape the chaos of the slytherin dungeon. there'd been many nights where the two of you sat here together, hiding from patrolling teachers or mr. filch. the theodore with you then was boisterous, happy, healing. he felt far from the guy you were about to confront. a soft footstep against the gravel behind you is the signal that gets you to whip around. you face the dark haired man with a stern expression, walking over to him in a fierce manner. "what the fuck has been going on with you?!" you whisper-shout, frustration evident when you shove his chest back. theo's reaction is to clench his jaw, his eyes not daring to meet yours as he looks away. he stumbles back a bit from your push. "i don't know what you're talking about." he attempts to brush you off. feigning nonchalance and disinterest, he keeps his hands stuffed into his pockets. this doesn't stop you from inquiring further. you bring up anything you can — "is it your father again?", "malfoy then?", "stress? merlin, theodore, just talk to me." the two of you bicker back and forth, each sentence spat growing more and more exasperated. finally, theo fesses up, tired of your endless and awfully oblivious queries. "merlin— it's you!" he hisses out, running a desperate hand down his brown locks. "it's you and your loser loverboy and how my stupid heart can't fucking handle watching you be happy in the arms of another man who isn't me." you notice how the rim of his eyes begin to grow red. it startles you but you can't ignore the excitement in your heart either. "and you thought it was smarter to ignore me rather than confess?" for the first time in the argument, your tone is one of lighthearted humour with the corner of your lips itching to smile.

245 notes · View notes

unabashegirl · 7 months ago

Text

the cover | part 2

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: hello everyone! I hope you are doing as good as expected. Liam's death has been a tough pill to swallow. I can't begin to imagine how his close friends and family might be feeling. I honestly feel like I haven't assimilated. It's just so sudden and unexpected.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all of the one shot (+8K) and exclusive scenes, various one shots and much more :)

word count: 3.3K

The hum of the car engine and the rhythmic sound of tires on the motorway created a comforting backdrop as Harry and Y/N cruised along, leaving the city far behind. The sun dipped low, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The scent of takeaway coffee and crisps filled the air, with the windows cracked open just enough to let in a cool evening breeze.

Harry, who insisted on driving first, had one hand loosely on the steering wheel, his sunglasses perched on his nose. Every now and then, he glanced over at Y/N with a teasing grin.

“You’re quiet for someone who signed up for a whole road trip,” he teased, nudging her with his elbow. “Thought you’d be the one keeping the conversation going.”

Y/N smiled, sinking back into her seat. “Just enjoying the peace before the chaos of my family.”

Harry laughed, the sound warm and comforting. “You act like they’ll eat us alive.”

“They might,” Y/N muttered, earning another chuckle.

Soft music played from the speakers—an eclectic playlist Harry had made, full of road trip classics. When Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac came on, Harry grinned and cranked up the volume.

“Oh, this is a good one,” he said, tapping the steering wheel. “You have to sing along. Road trip rules.”

Y/N tried to hold back a laugh. “I’m not singing.”

Harry, undeterred, started belting out the lyrics dramatically, completely over the top. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, eventually caving and singing along—though much less theatrically.

“There you go!” Harry said, laughing. “Now it’s a real road trip.”

The moment slipped into a comfortable rhythm—the music, the open road, and their easy companionship making the miles disappear. Y/N found herself relaxing, but the weight of the upcoming wedding lingered in the back of her mind.

After a few hours on the road, they pulled off at a small roadside diner nestled in the countryside. The fresh air was a welcome break from the car.

“This looks like a good spot,” Harry said, stretching as they got out. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at him, the sun catching the sharp angles of his face, making his curls look effortlessly perfect.

They walked into the diner, greeted by the soft chime of a bell over the door. The woman behind the counter didn’t seem to recognize Harry, and it was a relief—just two people grabbing a bite, no fuss.

“This is nice,” Harry said, sliding into a booth by the window.

Y/N smiled, knowing what he meant. “It must feel good to just be normal for a minute.”

Harry nodded, leaning back with a content sigh. “No cameras, no pressure… just us.”

They ordered burgers and fries, and Harry insisted on getting milkshakes to complete the meal. The conversation flowed easily, laughter breaking out as Harry joked about the wedding and Y/N’s family.

“You’re terrible,” Y/N said between laughs, wiping her eyes.

“I’m just preparing for what’s ahead,” Harry replied with a smirk. “Perfect fake boyfriend mode.”

After eating, they wandered around the small town nearby, snapping photos of the countryside. Harry held up his phone, grinning. “Stand by that tree,” he directed, and Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged.

“Why are you taking photos of me?” Y/N asked, half-heartedly posing in front of the sprawling oak tree.

“Because,” Harry said with a grin, snapping away, “you’re part of the adventure. Gotta document it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, but I’m taking one of you too.” She grabbed his phone, snapping a quick photo of him standing with the tree and hills in the background. His goofy smile made her heart warm—Harry, carefree and happy, just her best friend, far from the pressures of fame.

They lingered a bit longer, soaking in the calm before Harry checked his phone. “We should hit the road if we want to make it to Edinburgh before dark.”

Y/N nodded, feeling content as they climbed back into the car. The road trip was turning into something more special than she’d expected. She glanced at Harry as he drummed his fingers along to the music. There was something unspoken between them, as if a shift was happening, slow and subtle, yet undeniable.

As they approached the castle, the setting sun cast a golden glow over the estate, its stone walls and ivy-covered turrets straight out of a fairytale. Y/N’s stomach flipped, nerves kicking in as the car bumped along the gravel driveway.

“We made it,” Harry said, parking the car. “Ready?”

“Not even a little,” Y/N muttered before her door was yanked open, and she was pulled into a whirlwind of hugs and greetings. Her mom was first, squeezing Y/N before pulling back to critique her hair. “Sweetie, a haircut before tomorrow might be good, don’t you think?”

Y/N forced a smile as her aunt chimed in agreement. Her heart sank. Her family always had something to nitpick. It didn’t take long before her cousin brought up a dreaded subject: “One of the groomsmen is single. We thought you two might hit it off.”

Y/N’s stomach clenched, ready to politely deflect, when Harry’s voice cut through. “Hey, love, what did I miss?” He strolled over, all confidence, slipping his arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, leaving her family speechless.

His presence immediately eased the tension, and Y/N leaned into him, grateful. “You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Better now,” she whispered back.

Her mom’s eyes darted between them, clearly surprised. “Harry! I didn’t realize you were coming with Y/N.”

“Yep,” Harry replied smoothly, shaking hands with the rest of her family. “Thought it’d be fun to make a weekend of it.”

Her family exchanged glances, mentally recalculating their plans to set her up with anyone else. Y/N could only smile, leaning into Harry’s warmth, thankful for his perfect timing.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, clutching the edge of her oversized t-shirt as she padded over to the bed. The atmosphere between them was still light, but there was an undercurrent now—an unspoken awareness that lingered with every glance. She climbed into bed, sitting cross-legged as she pulled the covers over her lap.

“This is surreal,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. “My family, this place… us pretending to be something we’re not. It feels like I’m in a weird dream.”

Harry looked over at her, his phone now abandoned on the nightstand. “It’s not that weird, is it?” he said with a soft chuckle, his voice low in the quiet room. “I mean, we’ve been through worse, right?”

Y/N snorted. “True. But this is different. There’s more at stake here. My family’s already plotting wedding dates for us in their heads, I just know it.”

Harry grinned, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow so he could face her more fully. “Well, let them plan away. They don’t need to know the truth, and if it helps you get through this weekend without the endless setups, I’m happy to keep playing along.”

His words were casual, but the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and reassuring, made something stir in Y/N’s chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the weight of the day, or the strange intimacy of being alone with him in this room, but she felt the pull between them more intensely than before.

“Thanks for that,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her for a beat longer before he shrugged lightly. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends.

Y/N nodded, trying to shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface, something they hadn’t yet addressed. She laid back, sinking into the plush pillows as she stared up at the canopy overhead, trying to quiet her racing thoughts.

“Goodnight, H,” she whispered.

Harry turned off the light, settling beside her as the room plunged into comfortable darkness. “Goodnight, love.”

But long after the room had gone still, Y/N found herself wide awake, her thoughts spinning. The warmth of Harry’s presence beside her was impossible to ignore, and though nothing had changed between them in any outward way, something deep inside her knew that this weekend was going to shift things—whether they wanted it to or not.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Harry’s arm remained wrapped around her, the subtle weight of it grounding her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She had always known Harry was protective, the type of friend who would go out of his way to make sure she felt safe. But this—this was different. This was intimate, a closeness that blurred the line between friendship and something more.

She swallowed, trying to focus on anything but the way her body was responding to the warmth of his presence. “You always this smooth?” she asked, half-joking, though her voice wavered slightly.

Harry’s chest rumbled with another quiet laugh. “Only when I’m with you.” His voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was something underneath it that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N shifted slightly, feeling her pulse quicken as she let out a quiet sigh. “It’s going to be a long weekend, isn’t it?” she murmured, unsure if she was asking him or herself.

Harry’s hand tightened just a fraction on her waist, his thumb brushing the edge of her ribcage. “It doesn’t have to be,” he whispered, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she lay still, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. It felt like an invitation, a choice she didn’t know she’d have to make. She wanted to say something—anything to break the tension that had started to build—but the words caught in her throat, too heavy to speak.

Instead, she stayed silent, her mind spinning with possibilities she didn’t dare entertain.

The moments stretched on, the castle’s wind whispering through the cracks in the stone, a reminder of the world beyond this room. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in a situation neither had prepared for, pretending to be something they weren’t—yet somehow, it felt more real than it should.

Harry’s voice was a quiet hum in the darkness when he finally spoke again. “If it gets to be too much, just let me know. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a blanket. “Yeah,” she whispered. “We always do.”

And despite the uncertainty that lingered, she allowed herself to lean into him just a little more, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a fragile sense of peace.

The next day arrived with the welcome party in full swing. The castle grounds had been transformed into a lavish setting with fairy lights strung between trees, soft music playing in the background, and long tables covered in elaborate floral arrangements. It was all as grand as Y/N expected, but she had other things on her mind.

As they approached the group, Y/N could feel the familiar sense of dread creeping up on her. Her family had always been a bit overwhelming, but with Harry by her side, the stakes felt higher. The weight of their fake relationship loomed over her, making her hyper-aware of every glance, every whispered comment.

Her mom was the first to make the introductions. “Everyone, this is Harry,” she said with an exaggerated flourish, as though presenting some sort of prized possession. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

The group’s attention shifted to Harry, and Y/N braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions. Sure enough, her aunt—one of the nosiest people Y/N had ever met—jumped in first.

“So, Harry, how did you and Y/N meet?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Harry beat her to it, his voice smooth and confident. “We’ve been friends for years,” he said, glancing down at Y/N with a soft smile. “But recently, things just... fell into place.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by how effortlessly he lied. His voice was calm, his words so convincing that even she almost believed them. The way he looked at her, like she was the center of his world, made her heart do a strange little flip.

Her aunt nodded approvingly, clearly buying into the story. “Well, it’s about time, isn’t it? Y/N’s always been too focused on work. It’s nice to see her finally settling down.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Settling down? She wasn’t sure she even believed in that, let alone the idea that her family thought it was long overdue. But she plastered on a polite smile, not wanting to create any tension.

Harry’s hand found its way to the small of her back again, and she felt the warmth of his touch seep through her dress. “I wouldn’t say it’s about settling down,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. “Y/N’s too ambitious for that. She keeps me on my toes.”

The group chuckled, clearly charmed by his response, but Y/N’s mind was racing. The way Harry was handling the situation, so calm and collected, made her realize how deep into this charade they really were. And while it was supposed to be fake, there was something about the way he was acting—protective, reassuring—that made her wonder if it was more than just a performance.

As the conversation drifted on, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Harry, trying to read the expression on his face. Was he just playing his part, or was there something deeper behind the way he was holding her so close, speaking about her with such genuine affection?

The party continued, with more introductions and obligatory small talk, but Y/N’s mind kept returning to that moment—the way Harry had looked at her, the warmth of his hand on her back, and the weight of the unspoken emotions hanging between them.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, Harry leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “Want to sneak out of here for a bit?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for her.

Y/N glanced around at the sea of relatives, the endless chatter, and the forced smiles. The idea of escaping, even just for a little while, was tempting. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered back, a grin tugging at her lips.

With a quick excuse to her mom about needing some air, they slipped away from the crowd, making their way toward the quieter part of the castle grounds. The noise of the party faded as they walked down a path lined with tall hedges, the soft glow of the fairy lights barely visible behind them.

Once they were far enough away, Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank God,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I thought I was going to lose my mind back there.”

Harry chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on her back as they strolled further from the party. “You held up well,” he said, glancing down at her. “Better than I would’ve.”

Y/N shot him a sideways look. “You? Mr. ‘I can charm anyone’? I don’t believe that for a second.”

He grinned, but there was something in his eyes that softened as he looked at her. “It’s easier when I’ve got you by my side.”

Her heart did that strange flip again, and she cursed herself for letting his words affect her so much. This was all pretend. It wasn’t real. But as they walked together in the fading light, the castle looming in the distance, it was getting harder and harder to remember that.

As the evening drew to a close, the soft glow of fairy lights gave the garden a warm, magical feel. Guests had settled down at their tables, and the soft clinking of glasses quieted as the groom stood up, ready to give his speech.

The crowd hushed, eyes turning to the head table where Y/N’s cousin sat, beaming at her soon-to-be husband. He cleared his throat, his voice steady but emotional as he began to speak about the woman he was marrying.

“When I met her,” he started, looking lovingly at Y/N’s cousin, “I didn’t know what I was missing in my life. She has been my best friend, my confidante, and my greatest supporter. She pushes me to be better every day, encouraging me in everything I do.”

His words hung in the air, and Y/N, sitting beside Harry, shifted uncomfortably. As much as she was happy for her cousin, the familiar ache of longing settled in her chest. This kind of love, this partnership, felt so distant—something she admired but never experienced herself. Her thoughts drifted before she even realized it, thinking of Harry beside her.

She glanced at him quickly, wondering what was going through his mind. He seemed lost in thought, eyes forward but a subtle frown tugging at his lips, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his glass.

The groom’s voice cracked slightly with emotion as he continued, “In my hardest moments, she was my rock, my stability. I’ve never had someone I could lean on like that until her.”

Those words cut through Y/N like a jolt. Leaning on someone... having that kind of trust, that connection. Her mind swirled with the memory of the night before, of Harry pulling her close in bed, his arms steady around her. For a second, she let herself feel what that could be like if it wasn’t just a game.

She was about to push the thought away when she felt something warm brush her hand. She looked down and saw Harry’s fingers, tentative at first, before gently intertwining with hers. Her pulse quickened as his thumb slowly grazed the back of her hand.

She looked up at him, her breath catching slightly, and saw him already watching her, an unreadable intensity in his eyes. It wasn’t playful or casual like it usually was. There was something else—something that made her heart pound harder in her chest.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the world around them had faded away.

Y/N swallowed, nodding, but her throat felt dry. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she murmured, not entirely sure if she was telling the truth.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Harry’s grip on her hand was firm, his gaze unwavering. The air between them felt charged, thick with the weight of unspoken things.

He didn't say anything else, but he didn’t need to. His hand remained clasped in hers, a silent reassurance, and maybe something more. But they weren’t there yet. Neither was willing to take the leap into what that more could be—at least, not tonight.

The groom’s speech concluded, and the applause broke the moment. Y/N reluctantly pulled her hand from Harry’s, though she could still feel the warmth lingering on her skin. As the attention shifted back to the celebration, she stole one last glance at him, her heart racing for reasons she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

But it was becoming harder to ignore the way Harry’s touch felt like something she’d been missing all along.

--> part 3

376 notes · View notes

grapejuicenharry · 7 months ago

Text

Angel - (sick harry blurb)

In which Harry gets sick and Y/N takes care of him. (almost 2k words)

warnings: just fluff, clingy and soft h

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

The early morning light filtered through the baby pink curtains of Y/N’s apartment, the sun shining brightly against the window. But it did nothing to hide the dreary weather outside. Rain pattered against the glass, the persistent drizzle a constant reminder of the cold that had settled in overnight.

Harry had come over to Y/N’s apartment the previous evening after their study session at the library. They’d cooked pasta together and had dinner while watching TV.

Y/N stirred first, groaning at the heavy weight on her, her bladder achingly full. She opened her eyes slowly, rubbing the sleep from them, and looked down at Harry, who was practically on top of her. His head rested on her boobs (his comfort place), tucked under her chin, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and his legs tangled with hers. His breathing, usually steady and even, came in shallow puffs. Y/N frowned, shifting slightly to get a better look at him. His cheeks were flushed, and strands of his curly hair clung to his forehead with a sheen of sweat.

“Harry?” Y/N whispered gently, nudging him. He groaned in response. Furrowing her brows, she carefully moved his hair from his forehead to check for a fever. “Oh, baby… you’re burning up.”

Harry cracked open one eye, the usual bright green dulled and tired. “I’m fine, just give me two minutes, I’ll get up,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse and gravelly—a clear sign the weather had hit him harder than he wanted to admit. “Just a little cold.”

Y/N checked his fever by placing her hand on his neck, confirming what she’d already suspected. “You have a fever,” she murmured, carefully detangling herself from his clingy grip despite his half-hearted protests. “And you’re definitely not fine.”

“Where are you going?” Harry whined softly, his face disappearing under the blankets, with only his eyes and a head of curly hair peeking out.

Y/N smiled softly at him; he looked so cute peeking out from the blanket. “I’m just going to run you a bath and make some soup. I’ll be right back, alright?”

Harry let out a muffled groan but nodded, not having the energy to argue. He ducked his head back inside the blankets. He loved when Y/N took care of him like this, comforting and doting on him, even if he hated stressing her out. He wished they could just stay in bed all day, skipping all responsibilities.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N entered the bathroom, checking the water temperature to make sure it was warm enough for Harry—he liked his water practically steaming. She always teased him that one day he’d burn his skin off, but he’d just laugh. She added some essential bath salts to help his body relax. Once the bath was ready, she walked back to the bed and gently tugged at Harry’s arm.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” she coaxed. He grumbled but let her lead him to the bathroom. She helped him sit on the edge of the tub, lifting his shirt off, Harry didn’t realize how sore and achy his muscles were until she raised his arms. Eyes half-closed, he groaned as she guided him into the warm water. He let out a contented sigh as the warmth eased the tension in his aching body.

Y/N left a soft kiss on his forehead, then headed to the kitchen to make some soup. She chopped vegetables and added them to the chicken broth, keeping an ear out in case Harry needed her. The comforting aroma filled the apartment. She checked on him a few times to make sure he hadn’t dozed off in the tub.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N had always loved cooking—it was a true passion of hers. She enjoyed trying out new recipes and having Harry taste them. Most of the time, they turned out delicious, though occasionally they didn’t, but Harry never told her that; not wanting to hurt her feelings. Cooking was something she’d shared with her dad, who was an amazing cook. She still remembered ten-year-old Y/N trying to make muffins with him. Smiling at the memory, she continued stirring the soup.

Once it was nearly ready, she returned to the bathroom, towel in hand, and helped him out of the bath. She made him sit on the closed toilet seat, standing between his legs as she used another towel to dry his hair. Harry leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into her stomach. She kept rubbing his hair with the towel until his curls were dry. “Feel any better?” she asked. He nodded against her stomach, making her smile.

Y/N gently tipped his chin up to check for improvement, He whined at her but still letting her do. His cheeks were still flushed, probably from the steam and cold, and his lips parted with shallow breaths. Placing her hand on his forehead, she noticed it was still warm but better than before. She helped him into a fresh pair of sweats and settled him on the couch, wrapping him in the softest blanket and rubbing Vicks on his forehead. He scrunched his nose, making her smile.

After handing him a bowl of soup, she watched as he took slow sips, visibly relaxing as the warmth spread through him. “Is it good?” Y/N asked, though she knew it was.

“So good,” Harry replied immediately, his mouth full of soup. Honestly, he’d eat anything she made, even if it tasted like garbage—though luckily, she was a fantastic cook. A few minutes later, he muttered, “I told you I’d be fine,” between spoonfuls, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly grateful.

“Uh-huh,” Y/N replied, handing him a couple of cold medicine tablets. “And I told you that you’re definitely not fine.” She smirked as he took the medicine without protest, finally too tired to argue.

Once he was settled, she sat next to him, getting under the blanket. Almost immediately, he leaned over, resting his head on her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Can we stay like this for a bit?” he murmured, his voice a soft rasp.

Y/N smiled, gently rubbing his head. “As long as you need,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. He shifted closer, nuzzling his face into her chest, clinging to her as if she was his lifeline (and she was), drifting into a deep slumber.

Y/N held him close, her hands gently rubbing his back and stroking his hair, comforting him and helping him feel better. The sound of rain pattering against the window and his slow, even breathing created a soothing lullaby, lulling her toward sleep as well.

In that quiet, comforting space, a deep warmth filled her heart. Just being there for him when he needed her most felt so right. And from the way his grip tightened on her, she knew he felt the same.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

#harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles book #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #one direction #1 direction #grapejuicenharry #harry writing #angelcore

387 notes · View notes

megalony · 5 months ago

Text

Christmas Display

This is my first Christmas imagine of the season for Eddie Diaz, I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Requested by the lovely @neonkiwi I hope you like it lovey.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: With it being the Christmas season, Eddie brings his family down to the station to see the illuminations and decorations. It doesn't quite go as planned when the lights have a... bad effect on (Y/n).

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angling her head to one side, (Y/n) carefully tiptoed out of the front door and onto the porch. Her arms bound around her middle and her eyes set on her husband as she stepped closer to him.

Once she was on the edge of the porch near the front window, (Y/n) leaned her right side against the wall and crossed one leg over the other.

"Please be careful."

Her voice was soft and quiet, she didn't want to give Eddie a shock if he didn't hear her come outside to watch him.

Her eyes followed Eddie as he took a step down on the ladder, just enough so he could lean down and catch a glimpse of her. The look in his eyes almost reflected the string of lights in his hands and his smile made (Y/n)'s knees go weak. The way he flashed his teeth and winked done at her had (Y/n)'s arms tightening around her waist.

Christmas was always hectic in their home.

They had four kids running round whose favourite holiday was Christmas. They all loved decorating the house. Chris had a thing for decorating the Christmas tree, something he liked (Y/n) to do with him. Andrew liked putting out the teddies and gonks and all the little trinkets that got dotted around the house. A few of which were always forgotten to be put back up in the loft with the rest of the decorations.

Belle absolutely loved collecting snow globes to the point Eddie had cleared one of the cabinets in the living room so she had a space to display her vastly growing collection. And Lou was only two so at the moment she enjoyed running around with whatever decoration she had found and she liked to hand things to Eddie so he could pin or hook them up.

The inside of the house was complete with tinsel, a silver tree in the living room and a smaller trinket tree in the dining room that had more childlike and strange decorations. There were ornaments scattered about, a lot of tea lights and gingerbread teddies and candy decorations. (Y/n) loved that their house looked a lot like a grotto.

With all that being done, Eddie had decided to move onto the outside of the house. They didn't do much in terms of decorating outside. There was a sign on the grass telling Santa to stop by, a few candy cane lights dotted along the path leading to the cars on the drive. And just a strong of multicoloured lights that hung over the guttering above the bay window and the front door.

"Aren't I always? Besides, I'm nearly done." Eddie straightened up to hook the strong of lights onto one of te hooks above the guttering.

(Y/n) had spent a good twenty minutes untangling those lights and carefully winding them up so it was easy for Eddie to string them along the house.

(Y/n) kept her eyes on Eddie as he leaned over the edge of the ladder to hang the last edge of the lights on the corner of the guttering. She held her breath and tightened her arms around her middle when he looked like Eddie was about to topple over the side of the ladder.

He knew just how to lean and balance his weight without falling, but it didn't stop (Y/n) from becoming nervous. She didn't fancy making a trip down to the emergency room today.

The words "All done," passed Eddie's lips before he slid down the ladder and patted his hands over his hips to clean the droplets of water and flecks of dirt from them.

"My hero."

Eddie wasn't sure whether (Y/n) was being sarcastic or just trying to be sweet; her expression was somewhere in between.

His lips curved into a grin and he headed over to her, wasting no time in binding his arms around her waist so he could reel her into his chest and steal a kiss from her. His nose nudged against hers, tilting her head back so he could deepen the kiss and (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath to stop herself going lightheaded when Eddie glided his tongue across her lips.

She felt him smiling against her and his hands gave her hips a squeeze. When they parted, he tilted his forehead down against hers and a hooded look flooded his dark chocolate eyes as he grinned.

"I got those sweets for the kids, you know." He seemed to breathe the words into her mouth before he swooped down for another kiss, tasting the flecks of sugar that were glittering across her plump lips.

It didn't take much to figure out that (Y/n) had found the sweets Eddie had added to the candy bowl in the living room. And he was only teasing, every time Eddie walked past that bowl he would be diving in for a sweet, it was usually the pair of them that ate the sweets more than the kids.

"And you didn't get me any?" The way (Y/n) pouted had Eddie's heart jumping in his chest and he tried not to groan when he felt her fingers gliding up and down the back of his neck and tangling in his hair at the back of his head.

"Hm, I got you your favourites in the cupboard."

Eddie kissed her again, deep enough that he was almost pushing (Y/n) back against the wall.

When they parted, (Y/n) waited patiently near the door while Eddie spun around and moved to grab the ladder. He walked down the garden path along the side of the house and headed through the back gate to put the ladders in the garden. He would put them away in the shed later.

(Y/n) headed inside, leaving the door open behind her as she heard Eddie's boots clattering against the porch as he jogged to catch up with her.

Her eyes danced around the decorations as they walked through the hall and after a moment, (Y/n) reached out and turn the hallway light off. It was just a little too bright with the house lights on. The lights in every room had been turned on by the kids when they wandered around putting up the decorations.

Having all the lights on and some of the LED candles and battery lights on was just a bit too bright and (Y/n) was starting to get a headache.

She veered into the living room, a grin forming on her features when she saw all the kids had gathered in here.

Chris was sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with Andrew, a heaping of green card between them, some glitter, scissors and pens scattered around the table. They looked like they were drawing and cutting out The Grinch decorations and (Y/n) knew they would want to do a window display at some point too.

Sat behind the boys was Belle, the five year old was curled up on the sofa, a string of tinsel around her neck and she was holding the end, swishing it from side to side like it was a fan she was showing off.

(Y/n) weaved around the armchair and sat down on the floor with the boys, smiling brightly when Andrew shuffled over until he could sit between her legs. The six year old leaned back so his back was glued into (Y/n)'s chest and he started to giggle when (Y/n) perched her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.

She would happily help the boys make some decorations if they wanted, or she would stay quiet and supervise. When Andrew held out a marker pen for her, (Y/n) figured he wanted her to draw on the features of the Grinch faces he was cutting out.

Tilting her head to one side, (Y/n) caught sight of her youngest and she grinned before she looked back down at Andrew.

"Eddie…" The way (Y/n) quietly sang his voice peaked Eddie's attention and he leant his hip against the armchair, looking at his wife.

But when he noticed (Y/n) silently pointing towards the tree, he huffed and folded his arms over his chest. He had been wondering where abouts their two year old was. The little girl was trying to blend in with the decorations, thinking she was stealth and couldn't be seen.

"Lou." The sharp, stern tone to Eddie's voice made the two year old jump and she gasped loudly.

Her head turned to the right and her big doe eyes set on Eddie as her jaw dropped and she froze in place. She was pushing up on her tip toes, both hands stretched out as she tried to take one of the decorations off the tree that hadn't long been put up.

Her eyes stayed locked with Eddie even as he angled his head to one side and rose a brow at her. She seemed to move her hands very, very slowly like she thought Eddie wouldn't notice she was still reaching up for the candy cane decoration.

"No," Eddie drawled in the same warning tone but his eyes widened when Lou reached up and snatched the candy cane like this was a game and she wanted to win.

The toddler screamed excitedly and started running when Eddie hurried towards her with his arms stretched out in front of him. He made a point of stomping his boots against the floor which caused Lou to scream again, in a fit of giggles as she stomped her own feet and seemed to keep her legs straight as she ran.

She clutched the candy cane close to her chest and started to gnaw on the top of the plastic decoration, still giggling and squealing as she left the living room and tried to turn towards the hall.

A very loud squeal pelted past her lips when Eddie's hands slid beneath her arms and he scooped her up from the floor which caused her to kick her legs out in front of her. She wriggled and squirmed in his hold but Eddie kept a tight hold over her and cuddled her into his chest.

"No madam, we don't eat the decorations." Eddie swiftly snatched the toy from her hands before she could sink her teeth into the plastic and take a chunk out of it. At least she had only drooled on the decoration, it wasn't squashed or mangled and could go back on the tree- somewhere higher up so she couldn't reach it.

"No, mine!"

A low whine left her lips when Eddie tucked it into his back pocket so she couldn't try and snatch it back from him and he kissed her cheek to distract her when she whined again like she was about to cry.

"No, it's mummy's and she won't like you trying to pinch the decorations. Have a sweetie from the bowl."

To make his point, Eddie turned around and headed back into the living room and pointed to the candy dish. He couldn't help but frown when he noticed the dish had a rather visible dent in it already. All of his family had seemingly been at the sweets then while he had been busy with the rest of the decorations. He might have to hide this bowl soon if they went through so many sweets each day like this.

He picked out a chewy sweet and handed it to Lou who was still cuddled up with her back against his chest and her legs swinging out in front of her.

While she was satisfied with a sweet, Eddie walked back around to the tree and took the decoration from his pocket. He made a point of hanging it right near the top of the silver tree before he moved over and eased down into the armchair behind (Y/n). He spread his legs so they were curved around (Y/n) and he saw Lou down on his lap, watching her wriggle around to get comfy. He knew in an hour or so she would be fast asleep taking a nap.

His hand began to glide up and down Lou's chest as she wriggled and shimmied from side to side like he was dancing in a world of her own.

And he set his sights down on his wife who was sat in between his legs, still with Andrew on her lap. Eddie loved how (Y/n) was curved around Andrew, her elbows tucked into his sides and her arms around him like she was caging him in as she started to draw some faces onto the green card for him. Her chin was still perched on his shoulder and every now and then she turned to kiss his cheek.

Eddie didn't want to nudge (Y/n) or jolt her and cause her to mark what she was drawing so he settled on gently pressing his knee into her shoulder and nudging up and down her arm to get her attention.

"Any plans next week?" He murmured quietly while he leaned his head to the right and rested his cheek on his hand and his elbow on the armrest.

"I don't think so, why what did you have in mind?"

(Y/n) straightened up and tilted her head back on Eddie's thigh so she could stare up at him. She loved the softness pooling in his eyes and that grin on his face that made him look love-drunk. Eddie looked calm and serene and relaxed, it was a large difference to how he used to be when (Y/n) met him when he was high-strung and always afraid to just sink into the moment and relax.

"The station gets to put on a Christmas display this year, your dad's setting up this interactive thing. Lights, decorations, the whole thing. Thought you could bring the kids down to visit when we set it up."

The 118 had been given the good news that for a few days next week, for the lead up to Christmas, they would get to do a display for the community. All calls would be redirected to other stations so the public could come to the 118 and visit. There would be decorations, a light display, something in the theme of Santa's grotto and they always gave out presents to the kids.

Eddie thought it would be good to bring the kids down to see. Bobby told the team they could bring their kids and families to see the display first before they let the public in.

All the kids would love the display since all four of them were hooked on Christmas, and it meant Eddie would get to spend some time with them and do something fun with them while still technically being on shift.

And it also meant that Bobby would get to see his grandkids and show them around the displays and what they were doing at the station.

"Sounds lovely." (Y/n) pressed a kiss to Eddie's thigh and nodded up at him with a lay grin on her features.

She would gladly bring the kids down to take a look, it would give them something to do in the afternoon one day next week. They all loved going to the station and if it was all decorated they would never want to come home.

It would be fun.

***

A grin spread across Eddie's features when he heard an all too familiar squeal and a few babbling voices nearby.

It looked like his other team were arriving.

He turned on his heels and headed towards the station entrance, peering round just in time to see his family heading his way. Chris had his arm looped through (Y/n)'s elbow, standing close to her side so he didn't have to bother bringing his crutches for the walk down.

Andrew and Belle were a few paces ahead, barrelling towards Eddie with their arms stretched out in his direction. And Lou was bundled up in her pushchair, sitting on the edge of the seat as much as she could with the buckle around her waist. Her legs were swinging back and forth and she was desperately trying to climb out, wanting to rush ahead towards Eddie too.

"Dad!"

"Hi daddy!"

"Hi baby, you all been good?" Eddie leaned down and scooped one of them up in each arm and peppered a few kisses along their cheeks.

Sometimes when he looked at Andrew and Belle, he could see why people got confused and thought they were twins. They were the same height, they both shared (Y/n)'s sparkling eyes and the same cheeky grin. Added with the fact that there was less than two years separating them, it was very easy to mistake them for a pair of twins.

"Yeah, look." Belle leaned back in Eddie's arm and unhooked one arm from around his neck so she could point to what she was wearing.

The five year old had on a woollen red dress with a silver belt around the middle and a layer of white fluff around the collar so she looked like Santa. It was matched with sparkling leggings and her hair was up in a braid. And when Eddie looked down at Andrew, he noticed his boy was wearing a gingerbread jumper, one of his favourites.

"Wow, you both look lovely. Why don't you go find grandad for me, he's hiding somewhere."

Eddie set them both back down to their feet and pointed them in the right direction, towards the gym on the left. He turned back around just in time to have Chris barrell over to him next and bind him in a tight embrace. He tilted his head down to kiss the top of Chris's curls, noting that he too was in a Christmas jumper which was green with an elf on the front.

"Loving the jumper, buddy. Are you ready to see the lights?"

"Yeah, you're showing us round, right?"

"Yeah, don't worry. We're not going on any calls today, we get to stay here and do the display." He ruffled Chris's hair and watched him hurry to go and find the others. A grin lit up Eddie's face when he looked down at Lou who was now whining and stretching her arms out towards him, desperate to get out of the pushchair and move about.

He crouched down in front of her, mumbling "Alright baby, come on." As he unbuckled her and scooped her up.

He loved the dress she was wearing. Bright pink with dark red and white candy canes dotted all around and a sparkly scrunchie in the centre of her head, not that she had a lot of hair at the moment given that she was only two, but it made her look very cute.

When he stood up again, he let his eyes drag up and down (Y/n) who was wearing a red and white striped dress to match the kids theme. Red always looked good on her, in Eddie's humble opinion.

A grin lit up (Y/n)'s face when Eddie's arm secured around her waist and he reeled her into his chest like they had been apart for days, weeks, months. Not just a matter of hours. She instantly looped her arms around his neck and perched her chin on his shoulder, smiling widely even as Eddie leaned down and stole a kiss from her blushing lips.

"Have they been good?"

"Of course; although they've all been ready to come down here since breakfast."

It had been a bit hard to distract all four kids when each of them were eager to come down to the station. Both the boys were very set in their ways in the fact that if they knew they were going somewhere, they wanted to go right that very second. It was why (Y/n) and Eddie usually didn't tell them about big plans until the day before or even that morning, so they wouldn't get too concentrated and focused on that one event.

They had all done some painting, watched tv and then did some board games until it was time to take a slow walk down to the station. (Y/n) was worn out already from keeping them all busy so they wouldn't get upset about having to wait until just after dinner to come down to the station for some Christmas fun.

"Of course they have," Eddie murmured against her lips, stealing another three or four kisses until they both heard the kids footsteps bashing and running around the station floor. "Alright, let's go take a look."

(Y/n) kept herself tucked up into Eddie's side as they headed into the station. She moved the pushchair in the corner so it was out the way of anyone trying to come in and all the interactions that were now set up all around the station floor. They wouldn't need the chair anymore, Lou was hyped up and ready to either run around or be carried like a princess.

When Eddie set the toddler down to her feet, (Y/n) reached beneath the pushchair and found her backpack. It was a tiny fluffy bag with a dog on the back and more importantly, a handle connected to the bag so they could hold onto Lou and stop her from wandering too far.

A soft look welled up in Eddie's eyes as he crouched down and slid Lou's arms into the backpack before he wound the strap around his wrist and smothered his lips against her temple in a sweet kiss.

(Y/n) curved both hands around Eddie's bicep when he stood back up. She pressed into his side and merged her lips with his shoulder as they walked further into the station.

She scanned her eyes around but (Y/n) couldn't help wincing when she heard the Christmas music blasting from the speakers. It was rather loud. The music wasn't doing much for the headache she had been suffering from all morning, but at least it was the good Christmas songs that were clearly coming from someone's playlist.

Her head tilted back and she looked up towards the annex where the kitchen was. There was a projecting light shining onto the glass balcony, reflecting an image of Santa and then switching to snow, and then finally a reindeer. Just looking up there had (Y/n)'s head spinning and she cast her eyes back down again to reevaluate her head.

"Mummy look, we're matching." Belle waved her hand out as if (Y/n) wouldn't be able to spot her in the rather empty station.

She glanced over and her smile widened when she realised what Belle meant. The five year old was wearing her Santa dress, and there was Bobby stood next to her in a pair of black trousers with a Santa jacket on and the hat to match. All he was missing was a white beard.

"Ooh, you found Santa."

"No, it's grandad." Andrew shook his head and took Bobby's hand as if to prove his point. None of the kids really believed in Santa, not even Lou because (Y/n) and Eddie didn't entertain the tradition of pretending presents came from someone else and leaving cookies and milk out for Santa.

It was a novelty of Christmas more than a belief in their household and that was fine with all the kids. It was like the easter bunny, they knew that was just a fun game of sorts.

"Is it?" When they walked over to them, (Y/n) reached one hand out to squeeze her dad's arm and she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "This place looks like the North Pole." It was a compliment and (Y/n) loved the proud smile that lit up her dad's face.

They had done wonders in such little time and (Y/n) was glad the station got to show off like this and be open to the public for three whole days. It was so much better than putting in all the effort and only doing this for one day like they had done for Halloween.

"Thank you. Come on then, let's go round the interactions."

Bobby had Andrew and Belle on either side of him while Eddie kept hold of Lou and (Y/n) had Chris one step in front of her. The eldest kept looking over his shoulder to grin at both parents before he turned back around to take everything in.

Chris was enamoured with lights and music. He was hyposensitive, the louder and brighter the better, nothing upset him or got too much for him, he loved all of it. So being here was sensory heaven to him.

"Why aren't you dressed up?" (Y/n) perched her chin back on Eddie's shoulder and leaned up so she could whisper in his ear.

She had caught Chimney and Buck out the corner of her eye and both of them were wearing Christmas shirts and had green elf hats on. Eddie looked like the odd one out simply wearing his work trousers and cotton shirt with the station logo in the corner.

"I've got my jumper and hat waiting in my locker. I'm not dressing up yet so you can make fun of me." There was a light-hearted teasing tone to Eddie's voice that made (Y/n) grin and peck his cheek. He wasn't too eager to dress up at Christmas. Eddie didn't want to be Santa, which Bobby was thankfully doing.

He had agreed to be another elf like Chimney and Buck for when the public started flooding in, but for today he was simply wearing his uniform. He didn't want to dress up yet and have the kids stealing his hat and Hen was offering to do people's make up, Eddie knew the kids would smudge it if he had it on now. And no doubt (Y/n) would smudge his make up purposely.

Eddie preferred to dress up for Halloween, that was a holiday he really enjoyed because he could be a zombie or a vampire or something spooky. Although at Halloween, he had been picked to be the werewolf. The only kids that were scared of him were his own kids. Andrew wouldn't go near him and Lou screamed and wouldn't stop crying, even when Eddie took the wig off. He wasn't doing that again.

As they made a slow walk through the first interaction, Eddie couldn't help but look down to his left.

He felt the way (Y/n) tightened her hands around his bicep until she was practically scratching her nails into his skin and she was pressing her cheek into his arm so much that surely it had to be uncomfortable for her. He tilted his head down until his lips smothered the top of her head.

"You okay, baby?"

"Hm… I think Chris likes this one." (Y/n) nudged her nose against Eddie's arm and managed a smile as she looked at Chris.

He was walking so slow (Y/n) could barely pick up her feet without bumping into him.

This interaction was like a tunnel arch. Black fabric was hanging over their heads in an oval arch and there were tiny lights in the fabric that looked like stars or snow. There were projections of snow falling on either side and a few little moving ornaments on either side and a waving Santa prop. The music differed in this tunnel to the tunes playing in the rest of the station.

In here, it was playing chiming bells loud enough that (Y/n)'s ears were starting to ring, but all the kids were laughing and clapping. Even Lou had a skip in her step as she seemed to hop rather than walk and she was continuously clapping her hands together.

By the time they reached the third interactive display, (Y/n) felt like her head was about to explode. But she did her best to put a smile on her face and try to take in her surroundings and appreciate all the displays. A lot of work had gone into them and (Y/n) would hate for the team to think she didn't care rather than the fact that she wasn't feeling her best self today.

"Here we go, I think you'll like this one the best." Bobby leaned down towards Belle as he opened the door to the makeshift grotto in the centre of the station.

(Y/n) hung back a step and let Eddie head inside first with Lou trotting in front of him since the doorway was rather small. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, looping both her arms around Chris's shoulders so she could kiss his curls and walk in with him.

She loved how he started to laugh and held onto her arms as they walked inside in tandem.

When they walked in, (Y/n) couldn't help but squint and a shudder tore through her system.

God, it was bright.

The inside was blistering white like they were encased in snow. There were plastic sweets and candy canes and lollipops scattered around like sticks and signs. And polysterene balls covered in fluff to look like snowballs. Bells dangled from the ceiling, a projection was aimed at the ceiling to look like snowfall.

But what made (Y/n)'s head split apart was the projector aimed at the far wall right next to the chair she guessed would be used for Santa giving presents to the kids. The projector was displaying elves running in snow and chattering away in an interactive video. (Y/n) couldn't make sense of what they were saying from the way her blood was pounding through her ears and her head felt like it was splitting apart at the seams.

She tried to focus on the kids rather than the display.

Belle clambered up onto the red and gold chair, kneeling in the middle so she could try and reach up for some of the tinsel and fluff pinned to the wall as she babbled something to Bobby who stood beside her.

Andrew was circling around in little zoomies, happily tapping all the decorations and chattering about something.

Chris pulled out of (Y/n)'s arms so he could head over and watch the interactive video. His hands shook at his sides in a happy stim and he stood next to Eddie who had crouched down with Lou in between his thighs. The two year old was squealing and patting her hands on the wall where the elf was shaking a present and asking if any kids wanted a gift from Santa.

"Elf! Elf!" Lou kept bashing her hand on the wall until Eddie gently curved his hand around hers. He pecked her cheek and quietly told her to watch what the elf was doing rather than try to hit him like that.

When (Y/n) looked to the left corner of the grotto, her head tilted at an angle as she watched Andrew. He was fascinated with the tree. It was a white tree with lots of toy trucks and cars hanging as decorations, but each branch was twinkling and lighting up in various colours. The LED lights glimmered in ocean blue, lime green and fire truck red, all in intermittent flashes. Even the stem of the tree was changing colour.

It looked lovely, but it was far too bright and stimulating for (Y/n). The longer she looked at Andrew watching the tree with a round of giggles, the more (Y/n) felt like she was going to be sick.

Her arms encased around her middle and she tried to swallow down a whimper as she closed her eyes.

Her head was getting worse. She needed to go and sit down somewhere without all the stimulants and the kids who were each babbling and screaming and making (Y/n)'s senses overload.

Eddie pressed another kiss to Lou's cheek when she started to giggle uncontrollably. But when he looked to the right over his shoulder, the bright smile on his face started to fade a little. His brows furrowed and his head angled to the side when he watched (Y/n).

She turned around and headed to the door, but she looked like she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She was leaning heavily on the wall when she headed out and Eddie's heart jumped when he watched her stumble.

What was she doing? Did she feel sick?

Pushing up to his feet, Eddie stepped over to Bobby and held out the strap connected to Lou's backpack. "Won't be a minute." He muttered quietly before he jogged over to the door and hurried out after (Y/n).

"Amor, you okay?"

His brows furrowed as he headed over to (Y/n) when she stopped a few feet away from the grotto. She had her back to him, but it looked like she was stooped forward with one hand cradling her temple and the other bound tight around her waist.

Eddie barely had chance to reach out for her before she collapsed. Her body stumbled to the left before her trembling knees caved in and she crashed down to the floor. He winced and his heart jolted at the way her head crashed into the stone floor and he wasted no time in crashing down to his knees in front of her.

"Baby? Baby, talk to me. What's wrong, hm?" Both his hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he tried to gently tilt her head so she was looking up at him.

Her knees were curled towards her stomach and both arms were huddled near her chest, but Eddie couldn't get her to look at him. Her eyes were half-lidded and her head kept angling down like she was trying to tuck her chin down into her chest.

If (Y/n) felt sick or was going to be sick she wouldn't have collapsed like this but she hadn't passed out, she was still conscious.

The whimper she let out broke Eddie's heart but he had to press his chest down into his thighs to try and listen to what she was trying to murmur. He leaned his ear near her lips and furrowed his brows, concentrating hard to work out what she was whispering.

"H-head."

"Head? Your head hurts?" That was as much as Eddie could make out and it confused him.

He moved one hand to try and lift her eyelid to check her pupils, but he reeled back when her eyes suddenly and quickly rolled to the back of her head. Her lips parted like she was about to say something else, but a horrible trembling set in her system and had her body jolting back and forth on her side like a fish out of water.

The way (Y/n)'s arms suddenly snapped forward sent jolts of electric rushing through Eddie's nerves. He watched in panic and intensifying horror as (Y/n)'s elbows pushed out but her forearms and hands bent towards her chest. Every muscle tensed up and pushed out against her skin and her head bent back, pushing her trachea out as she started to violently spasm and shake.

She was having a seizure.

This had never happened before. Eddie had been with (Y/n) for seven years and not once in that time had she ever suffered any kind of seizure. And Bobby had never said that (Y/n) had suffered seizures or problems like this when she was growing up.

"Fuck! Fuck, oh mi amor." Leaning over her a little more, Eddie moved his left hand to her back and tried to rub his hand along her back while he pressed his other hand beneath her neck to feel her pulse and check she was breathing okay.

After a few seconds, he moved his hand and reached around for the radio clipped to the back of his belt. Thank God he didn't take it off and leave the radio in his locker. He doubted anyone would hear him over the music blasting from the speakers and from the interactions.

"Somebody bring me a medic kit outside the Santa interaction. I've got an emergency over here."

He placed the radio down beside him and changed his hands so his right hand was on her shoulder and his left hand was holding her thigh. He didn't grip tight or try and move her at all, he just kept (Y/n) in place so she stayed on her side. He couldn't have her leaning forward and hurting herself or lying on her back and risk choking on her tongue or saliva.

"You're doing so good, baby, keep breathing for me."

After a few seconds, Eddie snapped his head up and his eyes blew wide when the grotto door opened. He looked up at his father in law who stood in the doorway, frozen to the spot with wide bulging eyes and panic written all across his face.

Just as Chris and Lou tried to push past him, Eddie waved his hand in their direction and started clicking his fingers to get the kid's attention.

"Get back in there! All of you inside now. Don't let the kids out here." Eddie could see Chris and Lou freezing behind Bobby. They stopped trying to push past when they heard the gritty, violent tone in their dad's voice that meant business.

Bobby seemed stuck between wanting to rush forward and help and wanting to stay with his grandkids. But he quickly turned around and ushered them all back inside the grotto when he noticed Hen was running over with a medic bag in her hand. She could assist Eddie while Bobby kept the kids occupied and calm in here.

"Oh God," Hen huffed as she crouched down behind (Y/n) and placed the bag to her side so it was between her and Eddie but far enough away that (Y/n) wouldn't smash her head back on it. "Has she suffered with seizures before?"

Hen couldn't remember either Bobby or Eddie commenting that (Y/n) had even a mild form of epilepsy or that she had suffered sporadic seizures at any point in her life.

"Never."

He looked away from Hen to look back down at (Y/n) and he continued gliding his hand up and down her thigh just in case she was still conscious and could hear or sense him.

Hen snapped on a pair of gloves and pressed her fingers against (Y/n)'s throat to check her pulse, but her eyes darted over to Eddie when (Y/n)'s head slammed back and a gurgling noise emmited from her lips.

"Baby…" Eddie voice droned off into thin air as he moved his hand to cup the back of her neck so he could tilt her head forward again. He hated how tightly her jaw was clenched and how her throat was tightening, he could see each muscle pulling tight like an elastic band about to snap. And her trachea was pushing out like she was contorting into a strange shape.

He smoothed his thumb over the side of her neck and narrowed his eyes as he hunched over her, leaning his face closer to hers.

Another strange sound muffled past (Y/n)'s lips that were tightly clenched together as opposed to hanging open like when she first began seizing. And each breath she took started to become wheezy and gurgling which made Eddie's heart rocket up into his throat in panic and anticipation.

But the slither of blood that started to froff past (Y/n)'s mouth with bubbles of spit made Eddie choke on his own breath.

"No, no! Oh mi amor, please!"

A growl vibrated through Eddie's chest as he shifted his hands round to cup either side of (Y/n)'s face until he was practically squashing her cheeks. His thumbs pressed against her lips and parted them so he could peer into her mouth. Just as he suspected. Her jaw muscles were clenching and her teeth were biting down on her tongue. She was biting harsh enough to sink her teeth right into the muscle and blood was steadily pooling in her mouth, froffing down her lips and turning her teeth a stained orange shade.

"Get some diazepam and a tongue clamp." Eddie didn't bother to lift his head as he spoke, his gaze was entirely focused on trying to make sure his wife didn't choke.

He gripped (Y/n)'s chin in his left hand and moved his other hand to try and expertly wriggle his fingers into her mouth to open her jaw. It was hard to try and loosen her jaw and it was something he thankfully had medical training to do, but it was even harder when he had to tilt (Y/n)'s head forward so she didn't start to choke.

As soon as he loosened her jaw a little, blood started to flood down (Y/n)'s teeth and over her jaw onto Eddie's hands. He could see how her tongue was swelling up already so he tried to press his fingers down on her tongue to make sure her airways didn't block.

She was gasping and struggling to take proper breaths as it was.

His eyes locked on Hen as she got a needle filled with diazepam and carefully but swiftly injected it into (Y/n)'s shoulder to try and stop the seizure.

"Come on mi amor, calm down for me. Come on." He coaxed gently with one hand on her neck keeping her head forward and the other hand keeping her mouth prized open. He could feel her jaw twitching, desperate to clench down as her jaw muscles were tensing and desperately contracting.

But after a minute, Eddie breathed in relief when he visibly saw the shaking slowing down and she stopped spasming and writhing so much. And he could feel the tension beginning to loosen in her jaw, although the blood continued to pour from her mouth.

"Good girl." Leaning over, he pressed a few dozen kisses to her temple before he lifted his head when Hen tapped something on his shoulder.

He gratefully took the tongue clamp and carefully wiggled it into her mouth. He winced when (Y/n) jerked and whined when it pressed into her tongue that no doubt would be aching and pulsing with how it was bleeding and starting to swell. And Eddie could already see the deep puncture marks into her tongue as if it had been speared with a fork.

The moment Eddie let go of her jaw, (Y/n)'s mouth pressed shut and her teeth chattered around the plastic clamp in her mouth. Her muscles were still tightening and it was seemingly hard for her to relax. Both arms were pinned into her chest and her legs hadn't loosened from their bent position like she was trying to curl into the fetal position.

"Baby, baby are you back with me?"

Eddie couldn't help the way he winced when (Y/n) screamed. It was a feeble, broken sound but the way she scrunched her eyes closed and contorted her features made tears well up in Eddie's eyes.

He held his breath when (Y/n) pressed her face forward until she was smushing her face into his knees. But the way she coughed and spluttered blood onto his trousers and dribbled blood onto the floor had him shivering.

(Y/n) found enough control to try and flap her tense fist against her mouth, knocking against whatever plastic was pressing down on her tongue and jaw. She didn't want whatever it was. She didn't like it. She couldn't speak. She could hardly breathe without wheezing and sounding like Darth Vader.

She heard Eddie murmur a soft "Okay, okay," as he removed the clamp from her mouth which caused her to gag and spit the horrible taste of blood from her mouth.

Her fingers just managed to loosen enough to grip Eddie's wrist and she yanked on his arm, pulling it towards her chest so she could brush her face against his arm.

"I… hurts. W-… where…?" Each word seemed like a different sentence mushed together, but the sentiment was clear.

(Y/n) didn't know what was happening. She didn't know why she was on the floor or why she was bleeding or why she felt like she had been contorted into a strange shape and crammed into a tiny box.

"It's okay, you're alright now mi amor. Please try and keep this in for a little bit for me, it'll help with the blood I promise."

Eddie sank his teeth down into his lip when (Y/n) whined and gasped as he pressed the clamp back down on her tongue. He couldn't take the risk of moving (Y/n) onto a gurney and transporting her to the hospital while her tongue would still be swelling up and bleeding heavily.

She could started to choke, they couldn't lay her on her side on the gurney and if she laid with her head back she was at risk of swallowing her tongue. Especially if she went back into another seizure.

"How is everything out here?"

Bobby carefully poked his head around the door of the grotto. He had Lou in his right arm with her head looking over the back of his shoulder and his other hand gently cupping the back of her neck. He was stood in the doorway so he was blocking the view from the rest of the kids who knew something was going on with their parents outside.

"I'm gonna have to take her to the hospital." (Y/n) had never had a seizure before, therefore she needed to go and get checked out. They had to get an MRI, do some tests, take bloods and see what had caused this and if it was going to become an apparent condition.

And Eddie needed to check she hadn't bitten right through her tongue and get her some pain meds and get the bleeding under control.

He looked up at his father in law who sighed but nodded. "The kids can stay with me, you take her to get checked out and call me as soon as you can."

They didn't have much other choice. It was either (Y/n) going to the hospital with her husband or her dad because one of them had to go with her and one had to look after the kids. And Bobby knew Eddie would be the best one to calm (Y/n) down and go be with her or else he would only be worrying with the kids. Bobby would keep the kids here at the station and occupy them for the time being until he knew what was going on with his daughter.

***

Tilting her head forward, (Y/n) buried her face in the crook of Eddie's neck and looped her arms around the back of his neck. She pressed up into his chest that rumbled as he chuckled lightly and curled his arms around her waist. It was soothing to feel his hand gliding up and down her back and when he pressed his lips to the side of her head, (Y/n) almost melted.

She felt groggy. They had been here since yesterday afternoon and (Y/n) was desperate to go home, but she couldn't be discharged yet.

Not until she had been prescribed some medication and they had observed her on those meds for at least twelve hours to make sure they were working and had no adverse reactions.

"Feeling any better?" Eddie murmured quietly against her temple and he moved one hand to cradle the side of her face, encouraging her to lean back so he could check her over. Again.

(Y/n) nodded, flexing her fingers against his neck and clicking her jaw into place as if to show that she had full control back over her muscles again. The only issue was her tongue that still felt swollen and she could feel each cut from her teeth. Her tongue was throbbing. She hadn't been able to eat much yet due to the pain and uncomfortableness.

Eddie stroked his thumb across her jaw and gently pressed his thumb into her lower lip until (Y/n) let him see her tongue. He winced at the sight of it. Each tooth had made an imprint and her tongue was double it's usual size. He was surprised she could still breathe clearly and somewhat speak normally with it like that.

"Jesus, baby…" He sighed and tilted forward to attach his lips to her temple, but he pulled back when he heard a few familiar voices and noises coming from the hallway. "Oh, I think your surprise is here."

Adrenaline bubbled up in her chest and her hands tightened around Eddie's neck as she looked over his shoulder with a growing smile. She hadn't been sure what he was talking about earlier when he said he had a surprise. (Y/n) hoped it would have been him taking her home until the doctor told them about waiting for some medication and getting it into her system first.

Now she knew what it was.

It was their family.

As if on cue, the hospital room door swung open so wide it almost collided back into the wall and an all too familiar sight flooded the room.

"Mum!"

"Mummy, we here!"

Her arms unhooked from Eddie's neck so he could push up off the bed and turn round to watch them all flood into the room. And (Y/n) opened her arms in their direction.

Chris got to her first. He flopped on his stomach on the side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her lower waist, burrowing his face into her chest like he was trying to hide his growing smile. Andrew was next, he clambered onto the bed and sat down in between (Y/n)'s crossed legs. He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before he held out an elf teddy to her.

"I got you this, mummy."

"Thank you baby, that's very cute." (Y/n) pecked his cheek and then kissed the top of Chris's head. She gladly took the little green elf she was handed and she made a point of cuddling it to her chest to watch Andrew grin brightly.

"Daddy," Belle wrapped herself around Eddie and clambered up onto his lap when he sat down on the chair next to the bed. She cuddled into his chest, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her and attached his lips to the top of her head.

Eddie had spoken to all the kids on the phone last night before they went to bed, as they had stayed the night with Bobby and Athena. Bobby had been down to the hospital in the evening just to see (Y/n) and check in on the situation and he had been on the phone to Eddie this morning.

The doctor suspected the seizure was due to photo-sensitive epilepsy. They had followed up with an MRI and two different light tests which and an ECG to see if different lights and certain flashing images sparked anything and acted as triggers for (Y/n).

She was going to be put on some low dose seizure medication which could easily be adjusted in time if she started developing more seizures. Eddie was hoping this first one wouldn't be the first of many and that it could be easily controlled.

"It's mummy!"

"Yes it is, girly. Go say hi." Bobby pecked Lou's cheek as he walked into the room with his youngest grandchild perched on his hip with her cheek on his shoulder.

He advanced over towards the bed, murmuring a soft "Hi sweetheart," as he eased Lou onto (Y/n)'s other side and kissed her temple in the process. He moved to sit on the end of the bed near (Y/n)'s ankles as she had Chris under her right arm, Lou under her left and Andrew still sat in between her legs.

"Made you this." Lou stated proudly and thrust a card out at (Y/n), almost poking her eye out in the process.

"Oh, thank you princess." (Y/n) kissed Lou's cheek and cuddled her close, trying not to squish either of the kids beneath her arms so she could try and open the card.

It was a pale blue card with a neatly drawn snowman on the front which had been oddly covered with cotton balls and a large handful of red sparkles had been thrown onto the page with some clear glue. It was clearly made by Lou with hazardous skills, but the thought was lovely and (Y/n) loved the scribbling all over the inside of the card.

She recognised her dad's handwriting which said 'hope you feel better mummy, lots of love.'

"Do you feel better?" Belle spoke quietly as she leaned over on Eddie's lap so she could hand over another card to (Y/n) and a little paper candy cane covered in sparkly silver and red glitter.

"A lot better, baby. Daddy's looked after me." (Y/n) opened the card which had a lovely green gonk on the front made to look like a Christmas tree. She recognised Belle's handwriting which said 'Merry Christmas mummy, feel better!' She could feel tears bubbling over in her eyes at all the little gifts she was receiving.

And when she looked from Chris to her dad, she smiled wider when her dad handed something to Chris which he then gave to (Y/n).

"I made this one." Chris whispered in her ear and started to tap the card which had a Christmas tree on the front with lots of foil and coloured mosaic paper. It looked like a lovely abstract tree that almost looked like it was a stained glass window piece of art.

"They're all beautiful, I feel very loved."

"We're gonna look after you now, not daddy." Andrew spoke with such certainty that Eddie rose a brow and chuckled.

"Oh really? You're taking my job are you?" Eddie glided his hand up and down Belle's arm while he leaned across to nudge Andrew who smiled sheepishly and ducked his head. They all wanted to go home with (Y/n) and look after her. Whenever one parent wasn't well they would all try and bake or make them drinks and watch movies in bed with them.

(Y/n) closed her eyes with a grin when she felt Chris pepper kisses to her cheek which in turn caused Lou to stand up and do the same. She laid all the cards out beside her on the bed and cuddled the kids closer, especially when Belle tried to climb across to join in.

"Wow, I should get ill more often." It was only in jest and it made the kids and her dad laugh, but (Y/n) felt Eddie's hand swat against her thigh as he stood to his feet and leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

"Only if you want to be on bedrest. I don't need a heart attack thank you."

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz family #eddie diaz imagine #evan buckley #bobby nash

273 notes · View notes

skarlaya · 5 days ago

Text

8x17 Reaction

I’ve seen some… interesting takes on the episode, so I thought I’d share my thoughts after watching it twice because I think in the heat of the moment some people misconstrued a lot of what went down during the kitchen argument. This is going to be long so sorry about that in advance:

1- Eddie did not “almost raise a hand” to Buck, not even close. I watched this scene again multiple times after seeing the appalling takes people were sharing online… and they are completely unfounded. He grabbed his shoulder a little roughly (probably more roughly than Eddie himself intended to) and pointed a finger in his face… was this jarring? Yes. Was it violent? Absolutely fucking NOT. Could someone who has a history of trauma be triggered by that split second rough movement? Of course… just like I’m sure there are people who get trigged by something weekly on this show. If Eddie grabbing Buck’s shoulder while angry triggered you, then I can only imagine how triggered you must have been by Bobby slamming Buck into a wall in S1 while threatening him, and Chimney punching Buck to the floor in S5, Athena slapping Harry or Buck nearly breaking Eddie’s ankle because he was so caught up in his jealousy that he wasn’t in full control of himself while playing basketball. None of these actions make these main characters violent abusers. You know who was a violent abuser? Doug. There’s no comparison.

2- Buck was not afraid of Eddie in this scene and he did not flinch; we don’t even see Buck’s face when Eddie gets in his space but his head does not jerk back and he doesn’t move away, nor does his face show any sign of fear or discomfort when the camera cuts to his face when Eddie steps back. He doesn’t even show annoyance or anger about it, because he never for a second was worried Eddie would hit him

3- Eddie was not the only one being a dick in this argument. Buck came home with groceries that he picked up despite knowing Eddie intended to do the shopping, and he did that intentionally because he was mad that he found out Eddie got the EPFD job from Ravi. He’s mad and hurt that Eddie is leaving again but deep down he knew he would be, mostly he’s just mad and hurt that Eddie yet again didn’t tell him he was leaving (and this time he told other people first). Buck and Eddie have very distinct patterns when they argue and those are on full display here: Buck is passive aggressive with his intentional remarks and prods at Eddie to get a reaction, and Eddie lashes out and says harsh things

4- What leads Eddie to point his finger in Buck’s face is that Buck accuses Eddie of not being sad enough over Bobby’s death when he passive aggressively says “I’m sorry I’m sad that Bobby’s dead”. This is not Buck defending his own grief, this is him attacking Eddie’s grief by saying Eddie isn’t sad enough or not as sad as Buck. That accusation is what makes Eddie lose his cool for half a second, which is exactly what Buck intended because arguing with Eddie is easier than dealing with their shared grief

5- Buck actually IS making everything all about him right now, and I admit on my first watch I was pretty annoyed with Eddie for this line but on my rewatch it was obvious that Eddie is right. I think it’s hard for us to see that at first because we identify with Buck’s grief easier since Bobby was our “captain dad” like he was for Buck, and we also felt Buck’s helplessness at watching Bobby die. Leading up to the funeral, Buck was leaning on Maddie somewhat and was there to talk Chim into attending the funeral, but it seems like once the funeral was over and there were no more items on the checklist to get through he caved in on himself. We don’t see him reaching out to Athena or May or Harry to ask what they need or looking for ways to support them… he isn’t talking to Hen about her unique experience of having been in the lab quarantine with Bobby vs his own guilt over not being able to save them all or trying to help Chim cope with the knowledge that Bobby chose Chim’s life over his own… he isn’t letting Eddie work through the guilt over not being there when they needed him (and in light of this scene, it adds new context to Buck’s light and dismissive “hey, you’re here now” when Eddie told Ravi he should have been there… Eddie is trying to reach out and Buck is dismissing his pain, without realizing it). Ever since the funeral, he is spiraling exactly as Eddie said… he’s seeing the fact that the 118 isn’t eating together as his family abandoning him instead of recognizing that they all just need some time to process their grief in their own ways. He’s evaluating his friends to give their grief a score, and subconsciously he’s judging their grief scores against his own and each other’s instead of opening up and sharing their grief together. And he’s not happy for Eddie about the EPFD job, even though he would have tried to be before Bobby’s death (as much as it made him sad to think Eddie really wasn’t coming back now)… he’s judging Eddie for leaving again even though he knew Eddie would have to go back to Chris eventually, because how can Eddie leave him again after Bobby died, how can Eddie just move on when Bobby is dead? And he automatically accused Eddie of not thinking he did enough to save Bobby, when what Eddie is saying is that he blames himself for not being there when the team needed him. Grief is selfish, because it’s impossible for your feelings not to hang over everything else including how you think you’re looking after your loved ones. Buck is trying to live up to what Bobby told him in that the others would need him, but the way he is going about it is all wrong - he’s focusing on it through making sure he’s doing enough and not on what anyone (including himself) actually needs.

6- Eddie did not imply that Buck didn’t do all he could to save Bobby, that is not what “I don’t know, Buck, I wasn’t there” means. It’s not Eddie doubting Buck, it’s Eddie voicing yet again that he blames himself because he wasn’t there. He knows Buck did everything he could, but he also knows they can’t know how things would have gone if Eddie had been there inside the lab. But Buck has been so focused on his own grief that he still isn’t hearing Eddie when Eddie is trying to get him to understand how much he’s hurting over not being there so Eddie throws out a passive aggressive parting shot of his own

7- We’re not going to see a more in-depth apology for the kitchen argument because it’s not necessary for the narrative and we can assume they had a discussion off-camera in which Eddie reiterated that he was a dick and didn’t mean to be so harsh, and Buck in turn apologized for intentionally provoking a fight and being cruel with his passive aggressive words. They’re both at fault- Buck started the argument on purpose and Eddie ended it by being slightly more of an asshole. When Buck came home to find that Eddie came back, he forgave him instantly simply because Eddie came back - he saw him at his worst (see passive aggressive cruelty) and he came back anyway. He was absolutely going to still be a petty bitch about the note right up until he saw Chris, but he’d forgiven Eddie the moment he realized Eddie came back

8- The note was petty AF but Eddie is petty as is Buck. I’m sure Tim and the writers wanted the symbolism of Buck waking up to a goodbye note from Eddie like Eddie did from Shannon, but where Shannon never came home Eddie came back to Buck and he brought Chris. Buck should absolutely be a petty bitch about the note from time to time, though, because it’s Buck

Grief is messy, but like Buck once said to Maddie you lash out at the people you know will always forgive you (the people who love you). That’s simply a part of human nature, we’re flawed creatures.

#buddie #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

102 notes · View notes

amorchai · 8 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): ron weasley x reader

words: 872

warnings/tags: fake dating, mutual pining.

“since when was this a rule?” ron’s dejected tone pulls you from searching your bag for the mints he asked and follow his gaze to the small standing sign outside the small hogsmeade café. your fingers feel the curve of the small packet of spearmint sweets and place them in ron’s awaiting palm while you read the sign yourself.

‘second hot chocolate free for couples only.’

“i think it’s just a cute thing for the holidays,” you try, tugging on ron’s plaid jacket to try and pull him into the café, desperate for a warm drink to battle the cold air. “no fair, just because i don’t have a girlfriend doesn’t mean i shouldn’t get a free one. people in couples are supposed to be happy why do they get free stuff?”.

rolling your eyes at your friend and his dramatic tone, you talk when he shoves a few mints into his mouth, uncaring of the obnoxious chewing while doing so. “i don’t know i don’t work here, you know?”.

you try to tug him once more, but ron keeps to his spot, and he’s tall enough that you fail in moving him even an inch. you can see your own breath and your fingers feel numb from the frost, yet ron is mad he has to pay ten sickles for a warm drink.

“ron,” your tone serious, desperate to be in the warmth, so close but far you think about just leaving him here to wallow while you go inside to look for harry and hermione. “we can get it for free, y’know?” ron speaks after swallowing his sweets.

he’d been thinking, planning to himself so they can both save that few sickles worth and you turn to him reply, as gullible as a fish, “how could we get it for free? we aren’t a- oh.”

ron smirks at your expression, the tip of his nose and cheekbones pure red from the freezing weather evading his pale freckled face, and also from the proposition. “oh,” ron mocks lightly, watching as your expression gapes, moving from the sign and to him.

instead of waiting for your reply, ron places the mint packet back in your bag before his fingers trail down your arm and slither in between yours. and you won’t lie, the warmth of his palm is horribly inviting. how is he still so warm through this weather?

he guides you both in and you swear you must look like an idiot, facial expression nervous and darting around the café, since the place is mostly filled with fellow hogwarts students. “follow my lead, yeah?” ron glances back at you and all you can do is nod.

the small barista turns to face you, a glint in his eyes and cheery smile, a telling to you both it was probably his idea for the couple-based promotion. “how can i help you?” he asks, dish towel over his shoulder and another female barista making the drinks to the side, the smell of coffee so calming.

ron raises both your joined hands, clearly to show the man behind the counter, but playing it off by pointing to the menu, “two hot chocolates, right, babe?” ron turns to you. your wide eyes turn from your friend and to the man before nodding small, “y-yes, yes thank you.”

why is there butterflies in your stomach? and why do you not want ron to pull away?

“if you find a seat, we’ll bring them right out to you!” the man is smiling, nearly more than ron was. with his own smug grin, ron tries to play it off with a, “how much will that be?”. the man waves you off, “eight sickles. second one is free for couples.”

“that’s cool, right, love?” ron turns to you after handing over the money but you’re too busy trying to pretend you are melting at the pet names. ron leans down to kiss your freezing cold cheek and you can smell his minty breath, his free hand following to feel after, “let’s find harry and hermione, and get you warm, huh?”.

you nod frantically, pulling on ron’s hand and rushing yourself over to the side where you find harry and hermione’s waiting expressions. harry’s eyebrows are tugged, almost hidden beneath his glasses while hermione looks horridly concerned.

“uh- what was that all about?” asks harry once you both sit down, ron holding out your seat just to add that little extra boyfriend-ness despite being out of sight from the counter. “free hot chocolates,” you rush out, rambled and hermione raises a curious eyebrow to you as if she’s analysing your reactions.

“yeah?”

ron chuckles, hat pulled from his head and sprawled on the table while he allows his matted rough ginger hair to fall against his ears, “couples drink free hot chocolates.” you and harry look at each other when he shakes his head amused, watching as you try to act casual.

“thank god you weren’t with me,” harry tries to lighten the situation slightly but you aren’t listening, trying to ignore how much you miss ron’s palm in yours and his lips against your cheeks, not bringing up the fact ron paid full price for his hot chocolate anyway.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐡𝐩 𝐠𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚 ⁑ ron weasley ᡣ𐭩 #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley fanfiction #ronald weasley #the golden trio

311 notes · View notes

renmorris · 1 year ago

Text

all it takes is one drink for Harry to be left to rot and die in the bad ending

it's very smart about this. during the second tribunal you reach a point where you can try to make a case for yourself, and the way the dialogue tree is structured is familiar. you’re being lead to believe that if you have done enough right you can win enough points to be taken back.

its a sham, of course. the outcome is already set in stone. if you have the murder weapon, the confession, the motive from Dros? none of that matters

it's all about the presence of witness, the advocate because Harry’s humanity has already been signed away by Jean and co. it's not even about the drinking, not really. it's much pettier than that. Harry can drink in every other ending, as long as he has a witness he’s safe. it's about how the system conducts itself when it’s being watched.

from the Cuno ending. Jean knows 100% that he’s leaving Harry to his death. so it’s time for people to stop acting like he isn’t.

#disco elysium blogging #disco elysium #harrier du bois

428 notes · View notes

smilelikeacheshirecat · 8 months ago

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Bridget Hearts x fem!reader

Genre: mostly fluff, mention of bully

note: OC name Cherise aka daughter of Cheshire Cat

word count: 1.2k

Summary: Bridget finds herself lost in the woods after the vks were chasing her and had gotten hurt. As she tries to find her way back to the academy, she had cross pass to a past friend

"Come out Bridget" Uliana called sweetly. "We were just having a little fun right" she said followed by a cackling laugh along with her followers; Harry and Morgie as they continue looking for the princess who's hiding somewhere.

They were at it again, bullying poor Bridget when all she wanted was to be friends. And like always, in exchange for her kindness, she gets tormented by the vks but that still doesn't stop her from befriending them and it seems like she won't stop until she does but for now she must hide.

Bridget then notice they were getting closer on her hiding place and the only escape is the window with no other hiding place unless she makes a run for it through the forest.

With no other choice, she opened the window and bolted towards the woods. Just as she hide behind the safety of the trees she saw the vks passed her previous hiding place before looking somewhere else to find her.

Knowing she wasn't safe yet, Bridget decided to walk further into the forest just to let the vks cool down and eventually forget about her.

"They won't look for me in the forest right?" She said to herslef.

But as time passed, little did she notice how unfamiliar her surroundings has started to be. She doesn't know where she is, everything looks the same and it's no help that the sun was nearing to set.

"Oh where am I?" Bridget asked herself, looking left and right.

At first she didn't thought too much of it since she can still see the academy but she went a further into the forest and now she's lost. And now, the sun is almost setting and she's not one that enjoys the dark. There were all sorts of path leading to who knows where. In wonderland there may be signs that don't make sense but she's quite familiar with but the woods here don't have any.

Just when she thought all hope is lost, the princess heard something, just far from a distance where she stands. She heard someone . . . humming? This deep in the forest? Well she's not really in the place to judge since she herself is in the forest. But unlike her, she's already panicking as the sky began to darken and yet this person is humming like they haven't had a care in the world.

Bridget followed the soft sound until she finds herself to a large tree and within its branches was a girl, lying with its . . . tail? swinging back and fort.

It was a girl but with a fluffy tail and cat-like ears on top of its soft blue hair. The girl was just humming a soft tune as if lulling herself to sleep. But what really intrigued her was the colour of its fur. It's familiar with its soft colour pattern of soft blue with pink strips. An unlikely colour for normal cats here but quite normal in wonderland to one particular person she knows.

And then it hit her.

"Cherise?" Bridget called out to the cat on the tree.

"Hmmm" the cat-like-girl responded, not even bothered to open her eyes. But she's already of her presence.

Cherise Cat, unlike her father, Cheshire Cat —who likes to prank unsuspecting people in his woods—she likes to relax in her tree and away from people that would bother her. But she still entertains anyone who crosses her path. Especially this little prissy pink Princess of Hearts.

"Oh thank goodness you're here." Bridget let out a sigh of relief as she approaches the girl and her tree.

Cherise open one of her eyes now fully awake from her nap. She stretches her limbs before facing the princess.

"My, my, what curious steps have led you here? Were you searching for something, or did something find you? But then, does it matter which came first"

Cherise was always one that speaks in such riddle manner which to anyone else might find quite annoying but Bridget like it whenever the two would hold their rare conversation.

"I'm kinda lost and I was hoping yo—" Bridget admitted.

"One is never truly lost if they're heading somewhere, even if that somewhere is just beyond reach. But tell me, are you truly lost, or do you merely wish to see what's just out of sight?"

"Well . . . ” Bridget look down on we fiddling fingers as she recalls the events why she was lead to the forest.

"I was just out going for a little walk but then I got confuse where the path I came from since—" before she could continue Cherise suddenly appeared before her, just a few feet close, her grin still in full display. To others it would frighten them instantly but Bridget was quite use to it and honestly find it comforting.

"You don't have to lie to me princess but I wouldn't force you to tell me either" the cat-like girl said as she levitates off the ground and above Bridget's head. It wasn't that she wasn't interested but she could see how uncomfortable the princess was in sharing so she let it be. "You'd need only to follow me" Cherise said before she starts to floats along a path.

The princess smiled grateful for not pushing her to open up and followed quickly.

Along the walk you Cherise wasn't even flying that fast but Bridget was falling behind. She looks back to the girl below and notice the faint limping movements on the girl's left foot.

The cat tilted her head before vanishing into thin air.

"Cherise!" Bridget called out, panic arise again when she saw the cat disappear. She was about to run but stop when she felt soft hand on her leg, she looks down and find the grinning cat inspecting her leg closely.

"Well that won't do" Cherise said before conjuring a bandage and gently wrap the swollen foot.

The gesture and how gentle Cherise was being made the princess blush but let the cat-like girl do as she please.

When the cat was done she disappeared again and reappear right in front of her with her hands stretch out. "This is as far as you go" she said. As much as she likes Bridget's company, she wont let her limp all the way back to school.

The statement made Bridget confuse since it seems like they're still deep inside the forest. But nevertheless she took the cat's hand. Cherise's hand was soft and warm but before she could further speculate the touch.

Cherise then pulled the princess close then twirl her around, evaporating both her and the princess. Bridget was shock from the motion but then when she compose herself, she realized that they were back at the school and in front of her dorm room.

The cheshire cat had teleport them back to the school in just a second.

"What the . . . " she turns to face the girl who was now floating just above her, with her famous cheshire grin still on her face.

Bridget notice that Cherise was slowly disappearing again but before she could, the princess suddenly blurted. "Thank you" as she gave her a smile of her own.

Cherise grins widen, she reach to the princess' hand and left a light kiss before her body disappear, leaving Bridget alone to rest. "Until the next time princess" the cat's voice fades along with her presence leaving only her smile before it completely disappear.

181 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year ago

Text

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption

Can We Start Over? masterlist

“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”

You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.

“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”

And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.

The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.

You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away.

You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.

You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.

When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.

You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica

You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!

You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.

You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.

It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.

. . .

Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.

He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.

The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.

“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”

The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.

So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.

Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.

“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”

Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?

“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”

Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.

Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.

The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.

As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.

“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”

“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”

“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.

Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.

“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“

“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”

Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.

“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”

“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.

Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.

He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.

“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.

But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.

“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.

“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.

But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”

You stopped and turned to look at him in question.

“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.

You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?

“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.

“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.

“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”

Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.

“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“

“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”

What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?

But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.

“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.

Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.

You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.

When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”

You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”

You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.”

Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.

“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.

Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.

You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.

“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.

“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”

You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”

“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.

Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”

You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.

Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.

You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.

“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”

You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.

You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.

He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.

Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.

You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.

“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”

“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”

“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.

“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”

. . .

“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”

You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.

You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.

But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.

“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.

You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”

“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”

Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.

“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.

Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”

Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.

. . .

You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.

But traffic is unpredictable.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.

“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”

You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.

And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.

When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.

“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.

“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”

You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.

You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.

“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.

You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”

“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.

He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.

After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”

Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?

You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual. So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.

At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.

“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.

Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”

You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”

“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”

You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.

In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.

“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.

“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.

Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”

It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.

You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.

After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.

“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.

“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.

“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”

You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.

You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.

Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.

Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.

You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”

You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”

“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”

“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.

Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.

Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.

“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.

Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.

When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.

He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”

“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.

He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”

You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.

You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.

. . .

You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.

“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”

You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.

. . .

You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.

“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.

“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.

Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.

But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.

Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.

The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.

“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.

“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.

Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.

“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.

He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.

Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.

“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.

“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.

Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.

You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.

“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”

“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!

Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”

“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”

You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.

Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.

“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”

Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.

But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”

Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.

“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”

Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?

He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.

“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”

When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.

He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.

Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”

You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.

When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.

Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”

He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.

When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.

He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.

“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Part 3

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @theastrologie @sassamanda77 @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin

560 notes · View notes