#heavy harry OC

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Complete!

Finally! A fully rendered RWS style digital painting of two railbastards.

[uselessalexis165]

Eh, y’know what? Fuck it, why not! Puts him in a fun little outfit as well

———

@engineer-gunzelpunk I couldn’t resist and I had to gave a him cool outfit too 🚂🖤💜

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Heyyyy it’s my boyyyyyyyyy! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING HIM! 🚂🚂🚂🚂🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🔥🔥🔥

Late Art Fight art dump

Just realised I've never posted these here. These are most of the locos (and a tug) that I attacked on last year's Art Fight event. Went through some funky art styles ngl lol😭 Some people I couldn't find any Tumblr handles for, so the ones without the "@" are directly linked to the user's Art Fight. (For those wondering who's pinging them, tis I, SeaRogue. Hope to see you all on this year's event 👀) Tagged in order of appearance (left to right): ThomasGamingForever @engineer-gunzelpunk @marxmatter @railwaycreature @papipeteyjames Abdussalamizuddin Cr-escent @seaswine StarstormX1 @savs-avvy MSAW @donkatthree @synthetic-rust @rouxipanda @arcadicapalsblog (Hopefully I tagged everyone/the correct people)

[whorediaries-09]

Sirius Black with a breeding kink where he goes 'spread your legs wider.' ???? For kinktober!!!

hello i'm foaming at the mouth??

i'll hold my breath;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, mentions of injury. a/n- i wrote this with older sirius in mind. ya'll can think whatever you want to.

prompt- breeding + 'spread your legs wider'

the diner. kinkotober masterlist. kinkotober rules

it feels like there's no one in the world. it feels like the world is silent. and you appreciate it. you don't want this moment to be gone. you want to stay in this state forever, his arm wrapped around you. his touch serene. the touch that lingers, crawls under your skin. it kisses your soul from the inside.

it's intimate.

he's got you as close as humanly possible. you like to think it's because he doesn't want to lose you. and maybe it's true. you had seen the sheer panic in his eyes when you'd knocked at his door, bloodied, defeated and escaped from endless hours of copious torture from your captivators.

he held you as you cried. he held you, bandaging up your wounds. his usually stable hands shaking as they held you. he kissed you for the first time. he told you he was afraid of losing you.

you'd held his hand, nudging his forehead with yours, breathing heavy against his mouth. you told him that he wasn't going to lose you anytime soon. you intended to stay.

he told you he loved you. he told you he loves you.

you drew circles on his cold palm. truth be told, the idea of losing him was just as haunting. the idea that you could've lost him before you even had him haunted you. you needed to feel that he'd be by your side. you needed to know that you weren't going to lose him anytime soon.

you turned around under the sheets, cupping his face with your bandaged hand. you stared at his pale, porcelain skin. the stubble on his cheeks. the soft dimple on his left cheek. under the glow of the shattered moonlight you saw him glow.

'sirius,' you whispered, the sudden covet too deep. you yearned for him, you yearned for his assurance. that he was there. that he was going to be there. that you weren't going to lose him anytime, ever.

his eyelashes fluttered before he opened his eyelids.

'yes, my love? are you hurt?' he asked, feeling the coarse fabric of the bandage with his fingers.

'no,' you said. you weren't. how could you be? he was finally yours. but you needed to know he was yours.

'i just...' you sighed, stopping mid-way.

'yes?' he asked, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. you couldn't say it. no. you needed to spell it out on his lips. so, you kissed him.

furious. hot. like a starved person. desire fueled inside you as you kissed him hard and deep. as you felt the notes of malt whiskey on his tongue. the scent of his aftershave and the cigarettes he smoked on his breathe. the slender fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. not like the first time you'd kissed him earlier in the night.

he pulls away, gasping for breath. in the iridescent light, he sees your swollen lips. he feels a warmth rush down to his nether regions. it feels like a incentive. but he's not sure. he decides to test the waters by running his fingers down your waist. you shiver. his touch is cold.

but you like the cold. you like the contradictory feel of your warm skin against his cold one. you almost beg for it. it's comforting. it's the beginning of something you know you want.

then, like the snap of a finger, he's straddling you. and sliding his t-shirt up, as he's kissing you. you feel his erection grow, hot and big as you touch him. you're trailing your fingers down his sides. his breathing goes erratic. his lips are all over your heated skin, kissing every portion it possibly can.

his fingers trail down to the elastic of your shorts. he's pulling them down. but you're shy. even though you're bucking your hips, telling him to touch him, you're shy. you've got your thighs pushed together.

he sits between your calves, holding his cock in his hand.

'spread your legs wider,' he says, voice stern. it's not a request. it's an order. as if he knows what you want. as if he knows that you crave him. as if he knows he's been your drug even before he'd been yours. but the truth was, he'd always been yours. you whimper under his stare. he slides his finger between your inner thigh, softly pinching the skin.

you jerk open your legs for him, barring your wet, aroused core. it's vulnerable. it's intimate. he slides between your legs, lining his cock with your cunt. he gasps, pushing into you. it's a wonderful burning stretch that you feel as he slides into you. as if you'd been waiting for this your whole life.

but you're greedy. you want more.

you pull him closer by his neck, as he pushes himself deep, so deep. he gasps, a broken moan escaping his lips. you smile, pulling him closer.

'fuck,' you whimper. he stays. you feel him like the way you'd always wanted to. you're never going to lose him.

he pulls himself out, before pushing himself into you again.

'what a pretty cunt,' he says, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling you closer. your sweaty chests touch, and he buries his neck within the nape of your neck.

'thought i'd almost lost you tonight, sweetheart,' he says, thrusting, more erratic with each passing minute. it's as if he's trying to get out all those years' frustration he couldn't feel, touch you, hiding behind the veil of friendships.

'you're never going to lose me,' you manage out. you feel him so deep into you. it's as if he's always belonged there. 'i thought i was going to lose you before i could ever have you,'

the tip of his cock touches your g-spot and you're seeing stars. your toes curl. your breathe eradicates. your chest heaves as he thrusts and fucks you, stimulating the core tightening of your orgasm. your walls flutter around him. your nails dig into his inked back.

'fuck,' he groans, feeling you gripping him tight. 'gonna cum sweetheart?' he asks. your eyes shed tears of pleasure.

'y-yes, sirius, right there,' you say, chained with profanities and his name as your orgasm breaks away from your body and onto his stomach.

he fucks you through your release, his own thrusts growing sloppy. he grips your chin, maintaining eye-contact with you.

'i'm gonna fuck my babies into you, darling,' he says. you nod vigorously.

'and you-' he moans, biting his lip, as your walls clench around him at his words, 'you're going to look me in my fucking eyes as i do so,' he manages out.

he releases thick, hot ropes of cum into you. you feel it filling you up, satiated. he doesn't pull out. you feel him soften inside you. he kisses you.

'you're gonna look so pretty with your stomach swelled up with my babies,'

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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

©whorediaries-09, 2024.

[noxtms]

*   𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃   :   hi! i've been lurking at this group for some time now and am interested in jumping in. i've only ever done 1x1 so i wanted to know how interactive are players with one another outside their canon connections?

i don’t think that i fully understand the question ? as a group rp, it’s expected that everyone explore dynamics and plots with every character in the rp, and the last time i checked the masterlist, we had more original characters than we do canons. canon connections and canon ideas do not really factor that much into things, here, and people have been actively encouraged to lean into the au aspect of the group ? i’m genuinely struggling, so i apologise in advance this probably isn’t the answer you were looking for - i’ve never ever thought about that in terms of the rp since we’re all just here to write and connect with each other and that’s just... what we do. 

[12leafclover]

PokéSprite comms are OPEN!

Battle Scene: 1-2 pictured sprites vs 1 back-sprite against an in-game (or moderately edited) background with dialogue box

PokéTeam/Profile: In-game or made-up profile with up to 6 Pokémon displayed alongside the character

Gen III sprites will be exclusively in RSE style

-

Donate to ANY verified GoFundMe (on this list, or any I've reblogged) or Crips for E-Sims for Gaza.

Donating an E-Sim directly or paying the full price of one will get you ANY of these options and ANY customizations/complicated orders.

Send receipt as proof of donation to me on Tumblr or to honneeyyss@gmail.com with your request.

Donation MUST be from Sep. 5 or later.

Sprites can take up to half a day non-stop to complete.

-

WILL DO: fanart, NSFW, OCs, mech, mild gore, very human-like furries, you or a friend/family member with proof of their permission, Marvel comic characters

WILL NOT DO: animals/most furries, heavy gore, celebrities, historical figures, OFMD, Harry Potter, Attack on Titan, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, Marvel movie characters

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Hahahah yeah, I was over the moon when I found this. I hadn’t expected to find a RWS-type rendering of Heavy Harry as a character when I went out fossicking for articles about him beyond what was found in train books! And yeah, there’s a real thing about these articles being social commentary on what was going on with the VR and the general public at the time.

(For context, the VR was unable to build new locomotives owing for post war austerities, their faithful A2 express passenger classes were getting very old, the S-class Pacifics were getting worn out, and so a smaller, lighter express passenger locomotive design that was adapted with refinements from the H-class became the R class; which was then built at the North British Locomotive Works in Glasgow… but then that class was immediately jerked about with almost as soon as they were imported because the VR commission got bit with the urge to replace their fleet with diesels… )

I do believe that when Harry is referring to the Rs as ‘mannequins’, it was in order to suggest that they were only good for standing around and looking pretty.

Here’s the ‘mannequin’ R704, who was displayed at the Festival Of Britain in 1951.

As you can see, they are quite handsome looking locos (R704 was given ultra special polished boiler bands and gold lining for the Festival of Britain, but all of them in the class as outshopped were painted in this striking color scheme, quite a change from the dour VR Black that the entire fleet was painted in).

Another thing to consider is that the fleet was in a bit of a rough state after being worked very hard during the war and conditions didn’t really improve until the 1950 enginemen’s strike. With the above factors, bringing in new locos of both diesel and steam varieties was kind of on the cards, but the locals didn’t have to like it.

(I could go on about Operation Phoenix, the R’s teething issues, Harry’s shameful demotion to shunter (!!! Not joking! ) and the weirdness around it… but that’s a story for another post! )

I don't know who to send this ask so I'm gonna leave it out here for the public because it just came to me out of the blue: locomotive literature

And I don't mean literature about locomotives, but rather literature written by locomotives

Train biographies detailing their lives on the railway and documenting how things have changed since they were first built

Ghost writers publishing literary works written by trains

Trains with human editors sitting on their buffers as they write down what their engines say and making adjustments for those especially picky or who's words cannot be transcribed because they will be banned otherwise (looking at you Duncan)

Just

Train authors you guys

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Gruss Von Krampus!

Ok, it’s a day late but have a Harry Krampus anyway, he’s hairy enough to be one! Good engines get coal, bad engines get thrashed across the face and boiler with chains and branches!

[uselessalexis165]

Trust me, I can handle myself just fine against those visiting snobs.

Oh, really?

Let’s just say, men don’t like when women act just like them.

———

@engineer-gunzelpunk It was only a matter of time before I finally got around to drawing Harry 🚂🖤💜

———

reference under cut:

[daisywithnomakeup]

H220 Heavy Harry and R704 Taggerty-Thornton fight (wip)

Was gonna leave it as a sketch, but should I finish it? 👀

[whorediaries-09]

hey there love, congrats on ur upcoming bday although i do hope i'll be able to congratulate on the actual day) <3

my request is with your mind wants to leave ✒️ and slow morning sex with sirius, like cozy af, under the sheets, with rain outside, aftercare, the good stuff (i just want proper autumn already) please and thank you 🧡

hello darling, thank you for sending in a request and the wish hehe!

bed chem

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, fluff. a/n- blame sabrina carpenter for the fic title ☝️

little train. join my celebration!

you don't wake up to the raspy voice of sirius this morning. you wake up to the sound of rain pattering on the glass windows. he's unnaturally close to the warmth of your body, his tatted arms wrapped tight around your body. his chin his tucked in the crook of your neck. you feel his slight stubble tickling your skin.

you rake your nails over his cold skin, in an attempt to wake him up. he grips you tighter, pulling you closer to his naked torso. the sheets soft on your bodies sleepy bodies.

'sweetheart,' you whisper, turning your head to look at his sleepy form. he groans, hiding his face deeper within the crevice of your neck.

'i've got to go to work,' you say, trying to gently move his grip around your body. if you were being honest with yourself, you didn't really want to go to work. you'd rather just stay at home, soaked in the warmth of your boyfriend's heat, away from the gloomy, rainy weather outside. and make some love, too.

'i don't want you to go today, love,' he says, voice cold and raspy after a good night's sleep. 'stay today. i'll make you breakfast just the way you like it, and i'll make you tea too,'

'just breakfast and tea?' you tease, completely turning your body around to face him. he smiles, as your fingers remove scattered locks of hair from his face.

'maybe love too,' he says, sliding his hand under your sleeping shirt, fingertips cold against your hot skin. you let out a soft chuckle at his words, tension clearly developing between the both of you, but none wanting to make the give in and make the first move.

he traces his finger on your waist, curving down to your torso, watching as your breathes become slow and bothered, your hot skin picking up goosebumps from his cold touch.

'don't be such a tease, sirius,' you warn, fingers intertwining with his locks, as you pull him closer to your lips, least bothered about morning breath. he smiles against them, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. he hooks his finger on the waistline of your (his) boxers, slowly pulling them down.

'i'm not being a tease, sweetie,' he says, smirking. he flips you on your back, towering over you, his body between your spread legs. he bends down, placing his hot lips on your thighs, leading towards your core.

'so wet for me already,' he says, rubbing his thumb on your clit. his stubble scratches the soft skin of your inner thighs as he kisses them. you wrap your legs around his head, pulling him closer to your hot core. he slides between your legs, lips trailing all over your body, before he's positioned perfectly, his hardening cock at your slit.

'come on, sirius,' you whine. he smiles, running his fingers through his hair, putting the locks behind his ears. he enters into you slowly, feeling the warmth of your cunt pulling him so perfectly.

'oh fuck,' he gasps, as he starts moving in slowly. he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his hands around your waist as he does so. he thrusts and pushes into your slow and sweet, feeling you completely. your lips lock with his, moans and groans swallowed. you feel his tongue interlock with yours, as he slowly increases his pace, and pulling you impossibly closer.

you dig your nails into his back as he hits your sweet spot, the coil of orgasm bubbling in you. your walls convulse around him. you feel his thrusts go sloppy, and you bend your back, revealing skin for him to mark. he sinks grazes your skin with his lips.

'fuck, sirius,' you groan, as your orgasm hits, and your walls convulse and you release yourself around his cock. it stimulates his own, and you feel hot coils released inside you.

'you were so good,' he says, laying you down, not pulling himself out just yet. you feel his cock soften inside you and you moan softly, still sensitive. he lays down behind you, wrapping you tight with his arms, and pulling you closer. he trails innumerous kisses on your arms, neck and face, burying his face within the crevice of your neck. you sigh, contently, cradling his face in your palms, eyes raking over his beautiful face,

'i love you so much,' he pecks you on your lips, tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear,

'i love you so much more,'

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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

[loviestyless]

Whispered Temptation*

Summary: Nova simply couldn’t help herself but test Harry’s patience, pushing him until the tension between them got too much. Just how she had planned. (rockstarry x oc)

Warnings: drugs, mean harry, smut, dom!harry, bratty sub, oral (m receiving), public sex, praise kink, slight exhibitionism

A rhythmic tapping of heels against concrete echoed backstage as Nova allowed the excited chatter of the crowd to wash over her while she awaited the cue to hit the stage. Nervous energy flooded her veins, making it almost impossible to stand still while she toyed with her outfit and messed up her curls. Bending over slightly to get a closer look in the mirror placed perfectly in her view, Nova found herself pushing her tits up in her shirt so more cleavage was on display and tidying up her red lipstick that had smeared slightly in her rush to leave her dressing room on time.

Five minutes until show time and Nova LaRoy felt fucking invincible. She didn't care she was merely the opening act, the crowd would be hanging off her every note just like they did each night without fail. They may have bought the ticket with the sole intention of seeing Harry Styles but they would leave this venue tonight seduced by Nova's talent.

The thought alone made a cocky smirk tug at the woman's lips. Everyone fucking loved her.

"That fucking bitch!" A deep voice rumbled in the distance, thundering footsteps hurrying with purpose in Nova's direction. The darkness dripping off his words should have made Nova nervous, knowing full well the type of anger this man could harbour, but instead, it simply made her snicker to herself as she continued to admire her reflection.

Crew members scurried about backstage, their actions turning into a fearful frenzy as they made themselves busy to avoid getting caught up in whatever was about to take place. Nova found herself suddenly alone, microphone in hand as the minutes until her cue ticked away.

Her bandmates had already taken to the stage, messing around with their instruments to pass the time until the curtain rose. Just the right amount of anxiety settled Nova's stomach, making her jittery and determined to put on the best show of her life. Her cherry red guitar was propped up on the stand by the stage, ready and waiting for her grand entrance and Nova found herself itching to stomp across the stage and strike the first chords for the screaming crowd to enjoy.

Suddenly the waft of cherry perfume flooded her senses as Harry's reflection appeared in the mirror behind her. His cheeks were flushed with fury, matching the fire in his eyes as he located the person to spark such emotion deep within him.

Judging by his appearance - black leather trousers left partially unbuttoned and the absence of a shirt - Harry had been in the middle of getting dressed into his stage outfit when he'd discovered what Nova had done.

"You!" Harry spat, dark eyes locking on Nova's honey brown as she spun to face him, not realising he was closer than she first thought. His tall frame towered over her, their bodies inches from touching. But she didn't shrink back like he wanted. Instead, she made herself stand taller, chin held high as a devilish smirk played at her painted pink lips.

"It's me..." She teased, acting oblivious to what was inspiring such rage within the man in front of her. His inked chest heaved with heavy breaths as he struggled to contain himself and Nova found herself forcing her gaze to remain on Harry's, not trailing down the expanse of his toned torso emphasised by the red hue of the stage lighting.

From the very first day she met Harry Styles, it had not been lost on her how attractive he was. He was effortlessly pretty in the way that only rugged rock stars could achieve and Nova often found herself wondering if she would have fallen for his natural charm if it wasn't for his huge ego. After mere hours on the road, the woman quickly discovered that there was a side to the famous rockstar that his fans were kept from seeing.

Everything had to go Harry's way and if it didn't, there would be hell to pay. Trashed dressing rooms and pathetic temper tantrums followed in Harry's wake and it became very clear that if the rockstar didn't like you, then you'd better stay out of his way. His snarky attitude and diva-like temper were fuel to Nova's sharp tongue and no matter how many times Harry expressed his dislike for her, she couldn't help herself but purposefully piss him off.

As one can imagine, it caused a lot of tension on the road.

"Give it back." His words were stern and dripping with authority. Harry was obviously under the impression that being the star of the show every night gave him the right to boss everyone around. Most people did as he said, knowing their lives would be easier to avoid upsetting him. But Nova was never one to do as she was told.

"No idea what you're talking about, honey." Sweetness oozed from her lips, the playful nickname only winding the rockstar up even more. His sharp jaw clenched, left hand moving to cup her chin tightly to keep her attention on him instead of the crew member that had appeared to try hurrying her onto the stage. Her band was watching from the stage, rolling their eyes when they realised that she was being held up by yet another petty argument with Harry fucking Styles.

"My coke. Give it now." A hint of desperation tainted his words, barely detectable but Nova could sense it as he demanded she give back what was stolen.

She knew he depended on bumping a few lines before his set, unable to battle his crippling stage fright without a little help. It wasn't as if she had planned to steal the drugs from his dressing room but the opportunity was right there for her to take when the door was left wide open with no one inside. Besides, if he didn't want someone to take something he was so reliant on, perhaps he shouldn't leave the white powder out on the coffee table for anyone to snatch.

"Oh!" Nova suddenly gasped, hand on her chest in mock realisation. "This is your coke. My bad."

Instantly, her fingers dipped into her bra and fished around for the little baggie of crushed bliss she'd placed there for safekeeping. As she did so, Nova didn't miss the way Harry's eyes drifted across her chest, lingering on her breasts in her low-cut top for longer than needed.

Heavy bass suddenly flooded through the speakers, causing a round of screams to ring out through the entire arena and forcing Harry to remove his grasp from Nova's jaw. She had around thirty seconds to go bounding onto stage or her band would be forced to improvise the opening song.

"Oops, that's my cue. Gotta go!"

"Don't you fucking dare?" Harry snarled, his fingers gripping Nova's wrist and tugging her harshly so she stumbled into his body. Their faces were mere inches apart as fury blazed in Harry's eyes, brows knitted together in a harsh frown.  "Give me the coke, sweetheart."

"Come get it, honey." Her voice oozed seduction as she pulled the top of her thong above her mini skirt slightly, stuffing the drugs between the cotton material and the heat of her skin, revelling in the swirl of emotions making the air grow thick between them. Harry's brows raised slightly, a little taken aback by her bold action and what it implied - especially considering she had never given him such implications in the past.

Taking her opportunity, Nova stepped back once again, this time able to grab her guitar and prepare herself to run out in front of the crowd before her band got too pissed off by her antics.

"You think that will stop me, sweetheart, you've got another thing coming," Harry smirked, no doubt a plan forming in his mind on how to get Nova back for this. "I always get what I want."

"Is that a promise?"

Blowing him a kiss, Nova sauntered onto the stage, ignoring the ache between her legs at the promise of what would be awaiting her when she got off stage.

.......

Cigarette perched between her lips, Nova found herself leaning against the side of her tour bus as the night air cooled her flushed cheeks.

Heavy rock music floated through the air, drifting from an open fire exit and serving as quiet background noise in the otherwise peaceful parking bay. The small walkway between her and Harry's tour bus offered enough privacy that she doubted anyone would be able to find her until she was ready to socialise again. Her bandmates were no doubt in the middle of sweaty mosh pits, enjoying Harry's show like they did every night while crew members were too busy sorting through endless piles of equipment ready to pack up the stage the moment Harry went back to his dressing room.

Having stepped offstage almost two hours ago, Nova found herself needing to unwind alone - the screaming crowd still ringing in her ears as she processed the insane night she'd had. Every time she took the stage it never truly hit her that she was finally living out the dream she'd been working so hard to achieve for years.

It all became a little overwhelming in the time between her set and hitting the road to the next venue and she found reflecting on her life while chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes was the best way to process everything.

Tonight, however, all that consumed Nova's mind were those dark green eyes glinting mischievously with lust as she made her way through the setlist.

As the final song of Nova's set rang through the arena, the singer could feel Harry's intense stare watching her every move and knew that she had to make this song count. Sweat glistened on her chest as the heat of the lights bore down on her and Nova found herself using it as an excuse to tug her top over her head so she was strutting about the stage in her black lace bra and leather mini skirt.

Sure, it was a little excessive but it was all part of her charm. And it most definitely caught Harry's attention judging by how she caught him sneakily trying to adjust himself in his pants as he watched on from the darkness of the side stage.

"I was in your wet dream

Driving in my car

Saw you at the side of the road

There's no one else around"

The atmosphere of the crowd was electric, singing at the top of their lungs as they recognised the lyrics from when Harry covered the song a few months prior. Her messy curls clung to her sweaty forehead, a taunting smirk tugging at her lips as she swayed her hips with every step across the stage. She forced herself to remain focused on performing rather than glancing over to assess whether Harry was still watching what she was doing.

"You're touching yourself, touching yourself

Touching your, touching yourself

Touching yourself"

As the lyrics left her painted lips, Nova slowly trailed her hand across her chest and squeezed her tits - earning screams from the crowd that made her smirk with confidence. The song continued with Nova feeding from the energy of the crowd, chuckling slightly at some of the signs people were holding up in the front row and waving to those she recognised from previous shows.

"You climb onto the bonnet

And you're licking the windscreen

I've never seen anything so obscene"

Her singing became lighter as she acted as if she was breathless, taking her opportunity to tease Harry by getting onto her knees, spreading them just wide enough so that her skirt rode up her thighs but didn't expose the material of her thong underneath. Leaning back slightly, she rocked her hips slowly as her honey-brown eyes locked onto Harry's darkened green. His amusement had disappeared, completely taken over by lust.

"It's enough to make a girl blush

It's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"

Her fingers trailed down her sweaty body, tantalisingly slow while she teased the crowd and the rockstar side stage as she inched closer to the waistband of her skirt.

"It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough

It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"

Harry's eyes never left Nova's and suddenly everything faded around her as she focused solely on the gorgeous tattooed rockstar giving her his full attention. Her fingers grazed over the material where his coke was currently hidden in her thong, breathy moans tainting the lyrics drifting through her lips and Nova didn't fail to notice the flush dusting Harry's cheeks at her action.

Forcing herself to remove her seductive stare from Harry before she sparked rumours neither singer wanted to deal with in the morning, Nova returned her attention to finishing the song. Getting back up on her feet, Nova reigned back the sexual display she was putting on and returned to a level of professionalism required of her to do her job.

As the final notes of the song echoed through the arena, Nova dared one last glance side stage and found Harry had promptly left. Most people would assume this was so he could prepare himself for taking his place on the stage in half an hour.

But Nova knew he was biding his time until he could make her pay for her little performance.

"Did you enjoy yourself out there?" Harry's deep voice cut through the silence that now hung in the air. So engrossed in thought, Nova hadn't realised the music had stopped and distant chatter filtered through the streets as streams of people made their way home.

Leaning against the end of his tour bus, Harry's silhouette loomed in the walkway between the buses - the limited lighting casting intimidating shadows across his sharp features. Nova remained silent in Harry's presence, instead taking another drag from her cigarette as she awaited for the man to pester her for his coke. The absence of a smart remark was enough for the rockstar to continue taunting Nova, taking slow steps towards her in the darkness as he tried to earn a reaction.

"Acting like a slut for thousands of people to see." There was an edge to Harry's words and Nova had to refrain from smirking to herself when she picked up on it. As much as he tried to maintain his usual angry demeanour, it was obvious he was currently being fuelled by sexual frustration.

"You sound jealous." Nova purred, nonchalantly taking a final drag of her cigarette while she watched Harry slowly approach her. She flicked the butt of her cigarette onto the concrete, squashing it with the heel of her boot before speaking again. "Need some attention, honey?"

The rockstar's trademark cherry perfume flooded Nova's senses once more as his presence loomed over her. One minute he was a few metres away, the next his arm was leant against the tour bus, pinning Nova in place with his body mere centimetres from hers. His green eyes glinted mischievously as they locked on her honey brown, causing Nova's breath to hitch slightly in anticipation of what he might be planning.

"What I need is for you to return what you stole, sweetheart." His voice was rough from a mixture of lust and the strain from performing, sparking a wave of desire to roll through Nova and settling as a throb between her legs. His thumb came up to her mouth, lingering on her bottom lip as she pouted playfully. Opening her mouth, she allowed him to push it in further with the silent demand to suck. Nova wasn't one to do as she was told but she also wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to tease the sexy rockstar with his body pressed against hers.

A soft moan rumbled in the back of her throat as she set to work, ensuring Harry knew exactly what she could offer the moment she got on her knees for him.

The cold night air suddenly turned thick as Harry's eyes trailed down Nova's body, lingering momentarily on the miniskirt riding up her thighs and threatening to expose the thong keeping his drugs in her possession. Nova smirked as she noticed this and decided to get things moving - her core was aching and Harry wasn't moving fast enough for her liking.

"Like I said before, come and get it." She shrugged, her brows raised slightly as she dared Harry to follow through with what he was implying. "You know where it is."

Immediately, Harry's fingers ghosted down her stomach, toying with the waistband of her skirt while his lips attached themselves to her neck. Nova found herself relaxing under her attention, the tension that had been building all night finally starting to uncoil as the promise of release was on the horizon. Tangling her fingers in Harry's long curls, she tugged gently as he busied himself marking up the pale skin of her neck and was instantly rewarded with a soft groan.

Nova felt Harry's hand dip past the waistband of her skirt, teasing her cunt over the fabric of her thong and letting his fingertips graze the small bag of coke hidden close to her dripping sex. It took everything in her not to moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to her.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He breathed, finally stepping back after retrieving what was stolen. "You're fuckin' trouble."

The pair shared a soft chuckle in agreement, Harry's shaking hands desperately working to open the baggie to get the drugged-out bliss he was denied before his show. Right as he was about to tip a line out on the back of his hand, Nova snatched the bag out of his grasp.

"What the fuck-"

"Call yourself a fucking rockstar?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tugged down the neckline of her top, exposing the lace bra Harry had been admiring hours prior. "You won't even snort coke off a pair of tits."

His eyes widened slightly at the realisation of what she was suggesting, curse words tumbling from his lips as he rushed to help her unclasp her bra. Her nipples hardened against the cool air the moment Harry relieved Nova of the lace garment, allowing her chest to be on full display. Being hidden between both tour buses while everyone else was still inside the area had its perks and luckily for Harry, it meant he could bury his face in a gorgeous pair of tits without being interrupted.

"Shittin' hell" He cursed, lustful gaze admiring the way Nova squeezed her tits slightly just to tease him. She wasn't stupid, she knew he was a man who was easily distracted by a woman with a nice rack - as had been demonstrated a few times tonight.

"Go on then," She purred, tipping a messy line of white power along her right breast, brown eyes watching Harry with anticipation. "Indulge yourself, honey."

"With fucking pleasure" Not needing to be told twice, Harry pressed his lips to Nova's in a lustful kiss before moving expertly south to snort the line without hesitation. Tipping his head back, he let out a loud groan that sent waves tingling through Nova's body. Not even bothering to wipe his nose, Harry allowed himself to indulge in more than just the coke, sucking at the sensitive skin of her chest with desire.

His free hand toyed with Nova's left breast, squeezing it softly and toying with her nipple all while he marked up her right with hickies that would last for days. Hot breath tickled her skin and Nova leaned her head back against the cool surface of the tour bus, whimpering with pleasure as she let Harry do what he wanted.

His hips pushed harder against Nova's body as he switched to suck her other breast and a quiet gasp filled the air as she felt his hard length on her thigh.

"Perfect, darlin'" He hummed quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "Perfect fuckin' tits, sweetheart. So sexy."

"That's all I'm good for?" She teased, curling her fingers in his hair and pulling him away to look her in the eye. Blown pupils, swollen lips and white powder dusting his nose made him look dazed - a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as pleasure filled all his senses.

"What's wrong? Happy to act like a whore but don't wanna be treated like one?" Harry immediately bit back, snaking his hand around her neck and squeezing slightly to keep her focused on him. Her smart mouth was pissing him off just like Nova had planned, all she needed was to push him a little more and she'd get the rough fucking she was after.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, darling." He whispered, bringing his face closer so their lips were practically brushing together. "Bad girls don't get fucked like princesses."

"Fuck-" She breathed out, the wetness collecting at her core practically dripping down her thighs at his words. As much as she hoped she appeared more composed than she felt, Nova just needed to feel relief. Her whole body was on fire and judging by the flush in Harry's cheeks and the bulge in his leather trousers, he too was feeling the tension.

"Give me back my coke and get on your fucking knees, baby." Harry's voice was sharp with authority and paired with the squeeze of his fingers on her neck, Nova knew the time for teasing was over. Silently, she obeyed. Harry shoved the coke into his back pocket and watched in slight disbelief as Nova sank to her knees and waited patiently for her next instruction.

"Good girl." He praised and a smile curled at Nova's lips. "Now put that mouth to work and suck my fucking cock."

"What's the magic word?" Her voice was playful despite the tight fist the rockstar had on her messy curls.

"Now."

Nova's fingers immediately tugged at the zipper of his trousers, her eyes locked on Harry's who watched her every move. She worked expertly to tug down his trouser just enough so that his cock would spring free from its confined, brows quirking upwards when she noticed he had been commando all night as if to ask: 'Really?'

All he did was shrug his shoulders in response, his chest heaving with anticipation as her delicate touch curled around his thick length. Adjusting her position slightly, the concrete dug into her knees as she let a string of spit drop onto Harry's tip, collecting it with her hand before slowly working his length to make sure he was fully ready for her mouth.

"Shit-" Harry's head tipped back with pleasure, small grunts filling the air as he tried to keep his composure. "Feels so good."

Taking this as the indication to go further, Nova took him into her mouth with a soft moan, revelling in the salty taste as she worked him slowly. Her hand covered what wouldn't fit in her mouth, making sure to give him her full attention.

"Nova. Fuck-" Harry's hips bucked forwards unexpectedly, causing her to gag at the feeling of his length hitting the back of her throat before she was ready. As soon as Harry noticed, he backed off a little with a small apology but Nova was unfazed.

Instead, she took it as a challenge. She willed her throat to relax and took him deeper into her mouth, making sure to swirl her tongue over his tip as she sucked to make him squirm. Gorgeous moans tumbled from Harry's open lips and Nova peered up at him through her lashes to see his eyes had fluttered closed and brows knitted together with pleasure.

The sight alone was enough to get Nova soaked and she found herself in desperate need of relief, something she wasn't currently getting from Harry. It was time to take matters into her own hands...literally. Taking advantage of Harry being too wrapped up in his pleasure, she trailed her free hand down past the waistband of her thong and began to tease her clit slowly.

Her rhythm never faltered on Harry's cock as she continued to toy with her clit, her soft moans only adding to the rockstar's pleasure. It was only when she pushed a finger past her folds that her attention slowly became focused on herself, something that Harry was quick to pick up on.

"Just can't help yourself, can you?" His voice was husky with lust as his fist tugged Nova's hair hard enough that she was pulled off his cock with a soft pop. A playful smile brightened her features all while she continued to work herself deeper towards the blissful waves of an orgasm crashing over her. "Always have to misbehave."

His rough hand snaked back around her neck, squeezing a little as he demanded she get back on her feet. Reluctantly, she did as she was told, the fire in his eyes persuading her to go along with his instructions so she could finally get the dick she'd been dreaming of for days.

Without warning, Harry had spun her around and had her pinned against the tour bus with his tall frame. Her bare tits were pressed against the cool surface of the bus, serving as a welcome relief to her burning skin as Harry's hot breath ghosted her neck. Dragging his tongue against her fevered skin, the rockstar nibbled and sucked his way upwards until his teeth tugged at her earlobe.

"Need me to teach you a lesson? Hmm." His tone was dripping with arrogance but Nova didn't care to bite back at this moment. For once she was going to keep quiet and let him take what he wanted. A small nod was all she gave him, unable to trust her voice from wavering the moment she opened her mouth but this earned her a sharp tug on her curls in reprimand.

"Use your words, sweetheart." He purred, rolling his hip against her ass to remind her of what she could have if she did as she was told. "Lord knows it's never been an issue before."

Harry's foot gently nudged Nova's legs further apart as his arm wrapped around her waist, waiting for verbal consent before touching her aching cunt.

"Please, Harry-" She whined desperately, pushing her hips backwards slightly in an attempt to get him to do something, anything, that would ease the ache between her legs. "Fuck me, please."

Harry's fingers slowly began to circle Nova's clit over the fabric of her thong while she spoke, his movements just slow enough to keep her on edge and drag this out for longer. He could tell she was holding back a little, perhaps unsure how far Harry wanted to take this, but he was determined to make her feel comfortable.

"You can do better than that, darling." He demanded, "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Harry, just fuck me. Teach me to be your good girl, please." Nova's breathless whines got Harry's cock throbbing with need, a bead of precum collecting at the tip as he pictured all the possible ways he could truly teach her a lesson. But they were outside where anyone could catch them at any moment. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd walked offstage but he did know that the crew would soon be wanting to hit the road for the next stop.

If he wanted to take his time with Nova, it would have to wait until he had a night in a hotel. For now, they'd just have to fuck out the tension between them and Harry was more than alright with a quickie after a night of so much teasing.

"Need to be quick, sweetheart. Don't wanna get caught." Harry panted, peppering lazy kisses against her skin as he took his thick length in his hand and began to drag his tip along her clothed cunt.

"Don't care, just need you inside me." But when Harry continued to tease her, she quickly added. "Please, honey."

"So polite." A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her thong aside. Without hesitating, he entered Nova with a groan of pleasure, his mind completely overwhelmed by the feeling of her tight cunt taking him so well as his thick length stretched her out. "Fuck, baby. So fucking perfect."

His fingertips dug into Nova's hips as he slowly began to move, heavy breaths and pretty moans of pleasure rang through the air as Harry took control. It took all of Harry's strength to keep her right where he wanted, pinned tightly between his sweaty body and the cool surface of the bus as she squirmed with desire. As much as she knew they needed to be quick, she wanted Harry completely - she needed him to kiss her, to fuck her, to give all of himself to her. Their current position made it almost impossible for that to happen but she supposed that was what she'd asked for, to be taught how to behave.

As Harry had alluded to, bad girls don't get what they want.

"H-Harder, need more." Nova moaned and Harry growled in response. His hips snapped sharply upwards, causing his cock to brush against her g-spot as he fucked her as she demanded. But it still wasn't enough. She wanted to see him, to watch him fall into the depths of pleasure while he fucked her - this wasn't her.

Never had she been so needy, so desperate to be so close to someone during a quick hookup. Harry was different, she wasn't sure why but he was, even with such a horrible attitude.

"Harry-" She went to speak up, but it seemed as if he was feeling the same.

"I know, sweetheart." He nodded in understanding, pulling out quickly and allowing her to face him once more. "Wanna watch as you fall apart."

His strong arms gripped her thighs, helping her jump slightly so he could wrap her legs around his waist. Their mouths met in a heated kiss as Harry pushed her back against the bus once more - Nova's moans being swallowed by Harry as he made sure they wouldn't get caught. Nova's hand tangled itself in his curls, tugging hard enough to make his eyes close with satisfaction, the other wrapping around his cock to guide him back inside her.

From this new position, she immediately felt him hitting the perfect spot with every thrust.

"So deep." Her words were breathless, her mind going blurry as waves of pleasure began to build within her. "Needed you so bad."

"Oh yeah? Needed me to fuck you like the slut you are?" Harry taunted, sweaty forehead pressed against hers as he continued fucking her with a surprising amount of energy considering the long day he'd had. "Fuck you raw, fill you to the brim with my come?"

The sound of skin slapping and fevered moans filled the air as Harry picked up the pace, his rhythm never faltering as his lips attached themselves to the soft skin of her neck once again, making sure she was marked up just to his liking.

"Yeah, baby. I want it all. Need all of you." Everything was starting to become a little hazy as she succumbed to every feeling rolling through her body. Harry knew exactly how to please her and her body was responding accordingly. Her toes curled in her boots, eyes rolled shut and lips fell open as she felt the wave rising in her lower stomach.

"Look at you, such a good girl taking me so well." He praised, smirking as Nova let out a loud moan, tight cunt clenching around his cock with approval. "Can't wait to take my time with you, spread you out on my bed all night."

His hips began to falter, every thrust bringing the pair of them closer to release. Neither of them cared how loud they were being, whether any lingering fans could hear them from the other side of the arena walls.

"Harry." Nova's head fell back against the bus as she threatened to topple over the edge and Harry jerked his hips harder as he chased his own orgasm.

"Go on, baby. Let go f'me."

And with that, Nova's orgasm hit her instantly. Her hips bucked in time with Harry's as he helped her through the waves of pleasure that crashed over her, his own release following soon after as she clamped around him tightly. Thick come painted her insides as Harry rested his forehead against Nova's chest, both of them panting quietly as the night air stilled around them once more.

Minutes ticked by as they remained embraced in the shadowed privacy between the two buses, neither one of them wanting to separate.

"That was-" Nova started only to get cut off by Harry who seemed to share her thoughts. Realising it must be time for the crew to nearly make their way back out to the buses, Harry pulled out so both of them could tidy up their appearances to look presentable in front of anyone close by.

"Fuck, why didn't we do this sooner?"

Both of them chuckled lightly, Nova pulling her skirt back down against her thighs as Harry zipped his trousers back up. There was no awkwardness between them, their little escapade had only served to bring them closer together, all the tension between them now out of their systems.

"We could always go for round two." She suggested playfully, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck to peck a soft kiss on his lips. After being so close to his warm body, she found it hard to face the possibility of spending her night alone in her bed.

"My bus or yours?"

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Ohhhhh I love how you drew him! I’ve been looking at him for weeks! Thank you so much mate! 🚂🚂🚂🚂🖤🖤🖤🖤

3rd attack for @engineer-gunzelpunk (18+) !!! still love your dude so much

[thinkingboute]

masks | harry styles x model!oc

summary: Carolina Saraiva, 20 year old supermodel, has fallen into the dark. looking into the mirror, she hardly recognizes herself. At Vanity Fair's new masquerade ball, she embarrasses herself in front of one of the most famous men of 2014---Harry Styles. Chaos ensues. For many, many years.

part 2 here! and part 3!

warnings: mentions of drugs, disordered eating, vomit, anxiety, claustrophobia, (eventually sexual content but be patient friends)

a/n: I have been writing fics for myself for ages and I had an idea for a little HS series the other night and felt the need to share. Wrote this in one go and did no editing. I never read OC fics. Why am I writing an OC fic?

word count: about 1.5k

Every camera flash seemed brighter and more obnoxious than the last. Lina thought she’d have been used to the visual assault, but she was wrong. 

She’d been wrong a lot lately. 

Vanity Fair’s first ever masquerade ball drummed up quite the ruckus in the few months since it was announced. Of course, her management was thrilled when she received an invitation. At just 20 years old, Carolina Saraiva was a modeling sensation. At 18, she opened the Victoria’s Secret show, walked for Dior and Prada, and graced the cover of British Vogue---soon to be American Vogue, if her team had anything to say about it. She blew up so quickly, it was as if she spawned into superstardom in a mere moment. 

“The next Gisele,” her mother said wistfully after seeing her Vogue cover. “I have never been happier.”

Lina, however, had certainly been happier. In fact, she had never been further from happy. Joy was a limited resource in the modeling world; one that had been used up long before she took her first headshots. All that remained was coke, tequila, and passing out in the bathtub. Not that she partook in all those things exactly.

Only two. 

She was sure the cameras would catch her exhaustion, blinding light illuminating her dark circles, hallowed cheeks, and heavy lids.

Is Carolina Saraiva Bringing Back Cocaine Couture?

Model Down: Fresh Face Carolina Saraiva Faceplants on the Way into Vanity Fair’s Latest Party

Coke-alina: Brazilian Bombshell is Strung Out at High Profile Event

She was sure the tabloids would have their think pieces on the health of supermodels and their drug usage by sunrise. She didn’t bother with the coke rumors anymore. It’s not like there wasn’t validity to them, really. Lina wasn’t doing coke, but she was one of the few. 

“To your left, Carolina,” one photographer called out, stirring from her daydream. Lina whipped her head around, hair cascading down her back, and shot the man a wide, dimpled smile. More cheers erupted. For once, Lina was glad for them; they confirmed to her that her mask---the metaphorical one---had yet to slip on the outside. The real one, large and feathered, actually did seem to be sliding down her nose. She charmingly pushed it back up, eliciting laughs from the eager-to-please paps swarming her. 

A strong hand made its way to her mid-back: Darren, her security. She leaned back into it, grateful for the support. He took her small handbag from her without even a glance. She smiled her first genuine smile in a long time. She was prone to losing every bag she carried. With a half-hearted wave behind her, she made her way through the large, iron wrought doors. 

The opulence of celebrity events still floored her, even years into her career. There was a time, so distant in her memory, when she would have slashed, bitten, and crawled through fire to be in this position. Now, she would give anything to leave. 

Where else would she go, then? There were times before that she missed the tranquility of her family’s ranch in Florida, or the warm mornings in their family home in Sao Paulo. 

These days, Lina couldn’t think of anywhere she wanted to be. 

Darren’s hand dropped from her back, causing her to stumble at the loss of support. She surveyed the scene, eager to find a back door or balcony for fresh air. That was one thing New York lacked. 

Instead, her eyes caught a tall figure, adorned in pale pinks and gold jewels, with a dress whose hoop must’ve added at least two feet to her radius. 

Behind that bejeweled mask, the woman’s eyes caught Linas. 

“Oh, my goodness, you lady of the night!” Gigi exclaimed, shuffling as fast as she could through the crowd to grab Lina’s hands. They both looked down to examine her dress. The blackish blue, corseted, tulle ballgown was vintage and, for once, Lina couldn’t remember the designer. The silhouette was historical, remanent of Victorian style pieces. Alongside the dramatic, feathered mask, she was reminiscent of a ghost. She laughed to herself. How fitting.

Mustering up her most genuine smile, she said, “You look like a princess!” Gigi smiled at that. Lina really meant it. Gigi was always happy, it seemed. She was more human than any other girl she’d met in the industry. 

They looked around the room, startled as the chandeliers shut off dramatically. A sort of eerie light filled the room from some other source. It was as if there was a nightclub in the 1800s. 

“It feels like I left 2014 the moment I got here,” Gigi whispered. Lina was inclined to whisper, too, with the atmosphere changing so quickly.

Before she got the chance, deafening bass filled the room, shaking the floor. Gigi waved in apology as she was pulled by faceless hand back into the crowd. Lina could have thrown up right there. Her eyes set on the bar, she pushed her way through the crowd. 

Sweat seemed to fog up the room, humidity surely ruining her freshly blown out hair. Each time she found a pathway through the gyrating bodies, an arm or leg or ass threw itself in her way. The room that seemed endless when she first walked in was no larger than a corridor now. Worse, a coffin. She was panting. Another woman stepped back into her path. Lina threw her hands out towards her, shoving her back into her dance partner who was clearly on another planet. She heard a distant ‘augh’ but could not find it within herself to care. She was having a hard time finding anything within herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate something. 

The bar came into view, or really, the crowd the engulfed the bar came into view. She shoved into two men who leaned casually on the counter. A drink appeared in front of her, and she was inclined to take it. 

Turning around to lean her back against the cold marble, Lina closed her eyes. She downed the drink and handed her empty glass to one of the men standing beside her, who slid his hand along her lower back. Saliva filled her mouth. Slapping a hand over pursed lips, she ran towards what looked like a bathroom.

She tried to slam the door open, but barely had the strength to push it open. Her steps were uneven. Her head was in the toilet bowl before she even realized she found a stall. 

After retching for what felt like an hour, Lina attempted to stand, but her ankles gave out under her. Yelling out in frustration, she slapped her hands on the toilet bowl for leverage. 

Hands washed, she leaned on the cool countertop, looking up at herself in the mirror.

Hair frizzed on top, lip gloss everywhere but her lips, darkness beneath her cheekbones that she knew was not from her hour-long stint in the makeup chair---Lina looked in to her eyes, hidden behind the mask, and cried. 

The door shot open behind her, followed by a long sigh, followed again by a yelp. 

Lina’s head shot back. There was a man behind her. Because she was in the men’s bathroom. She was sure she would vomit into the sink.

“Oh---oh my god. I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn this was the men’s toilet, Niall that absolute fucking bastard.”

Lina’s head whipped back just before bile filled her mouth. 

“Holy shit, are you alright?”

Lina took a deep breath. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” She had never sounded less fine in her goddamn life. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” her hand swiped around the counter for a handbag that wasn’t there. 

Fucking Darren. 

“No, no, why don’t I go, yeah?” the man said, coughing to cover his laugh. “I think you might need…to be here more than me.”

“Nope, nope, I’ll be going,” Lina whined. 

“Actually, why don’t I just grab someone for you. You come here with anyone?”

Lina could not remember Darren’s name at the moment. 

“How much have you had to drink? Or have you…done something else?”

“Are you asking me if I’ve done coke tonight, Harry Styles?”

Lina turned to look at him fully. He wore an all-black suit with satin flower details along the lapels. His mask was simple, matching the detailing of his jacket. Behind it, green eyes above pink-flushed cheeks looked her up and down, stepping back as if to avoid another onslaught of vomit. 

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, if you have, but I don’t mean to assume anyth---”

“No. I have not. Why does everyone think I do coke?”

Harry looked at her once again. 

“I mean---”

“I am not typically puking in men’s restrooms.”

A laugh. “Never said you were, Carolina.”

Oh. 

“You know my name.”

“Hard not to. Can’t escape your face if I fucking tried.”

“You want to escape my face?”

“Never said that either, darling.”

Oh.

“I think maybe I should go.”

Harry’s teasing smile became a grimace of concern. “At least let me get you a cab.”

Lina shook her head, the room shaking with it. “No, no, if you leave, they won’t let you back in.”

“I’m Harry Styles. Sure, they will."

“How presumptuous.”

A shrug. “Just saying.”

Lina swipes, once again, for the handbag that isn’t there. Harry’s eyes widen slightly. “Go find whatever bastard you were moaning about earlier. I’ll be fine.”

“Come on---” But Lina had already pushed passed him. Back into the sea of people. Back into that coffin of a room. 

a/n: please let me know if you want to see more of this!! I will write it anyway but I'm curious lol

part 2 here!!

[lemoncrushh]

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Summary: Harry invites Rebecca to his Christmas party, but she overthinks too much, misinterpreting his intentions and nearly missing out on her chance to be with him on New Year's Eve.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 6528

A/N: The last of my collection! Originally written and posted in 2016. Harry x OC, written in first person. Inspired by one of my all-time favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs.

I was exhausted. I'd spent the day Christmas shopping, the first half shared with my mother up until we stopped for lunch. Then after we parted ways, I continued my hunt for the perfect gifts, checking off my list one by one. By six o'clock, I'd called it a day, pushing my door open with my shoulder as I struggled with enough bags to completely cover the foyer. I set them down with a sigh, shutting the door behind me and tiptoeing around the bags to get to my kitchen where I dropped my purse and keys. I took a gander back at the mess in the hallway, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. Making my way over, I grabbed only one of the bags, leaving the rest to be put away later.

Once in my room, I laid the bag on the bed, removing the dress I'd purchased for myself. It was a pretty, deep crimson shade with a simple A-line hem, and it cost almost as much as all the gifts I'd bought put together, but it was totally worth it.

Harry was having a Christmas party.

Harry Styles and I had gone out a handful times. I wasn't really sure if you could say we were dating. How many dates constitutes dating? One? Five? Seventeen? I never really knew the answer to that. He'd taken me to dinner a few times and to a party another, and we had a good time, at least I thought so. I just felt like it was too soon to tell how he felt about me. But I liked him. I liked him a lot.

This wasn't really a date though. This was a party he was throwing for all his friends and other people he knew. I would just be one of many to attend. Nevertheless, I was excited to be going, and this little red number I hoped would make an impression.

I hung up the dress on the hook that hung on the closet door, pressing my hand along the soft, silky fabric. I smiled to myself as I thought of Harry, the way his green eyes twinkled when he smiled and the way his soft lips felt against mine when he'd kissed me goodnight. I sincerely hoped he would kiss me again. Maybe even under the mistletoe? I chuckled to myself as I made my way back out into the hall, grabbing the rest of my bags and bringing them into the bedroom. Too tired to sort through them at the moment, I left them lined up at the foot of the bed and returned to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. That's when I heard my cell phone going off in my purse. I smiled when I saw Harry's name on the screen.

"Hi, Harry," I greeted.

"Hi, Rebecca," he said in a low tone. "How are you?"

"Tired from shopping all day, but otherwise I'm great."

"Good," Harry commented with a smile in his voice. "Just wanted to confirm that you're coming to my party tomorrow."

"Yes," I replied. "I sent the RSVP. Didn't you get it?"

"I did. I just wanted to double check personally."

"Oh," I grinned. "I feel special."

Harry chuckled. "You should. I'm really looking forward to seeing you."

I felt my cheeks stretch as my smiled widened. "Me too. Can't wait."

"See you tomorrow, love," he said softly before we disconnected.

I leaned against the kitchen counter with a sigh. He was looking forward to seeing me. Me? Or did he tell everyone that? Yes, that was probably it. He was always so cordial and charming. Still, as I went to bed that night, I couldn't help but be a tiny bit excited that he was glad I was coming.

I'd been there a good thirty minutes, and I hadn't seen him yet. Sure, the place was crowded to say the least, and he was only one face in a sea of many, but I'd started to get the feeling that my efforts in making sure my dress and makeup were perfect, and the fact that I'd taken a taxi instead of driving my own car so I wouldn't have to park so far and walk in heels, were all in vain.

After some mingling with strangers, and a few people I did know, I decided to make my way around the left side of the room to the bar. Before I could reach it, however, I felt an arm slip around my waist.

"There you are," he said.

I turned and smiled. "Here I am."

"Was beginning to think you weren't coming after all." Despite the sly smirk at the corner of his mouth, I reckoned Harry actually meant those words.

"I've been here for a while now, Harry," I teased, "you must've not been looking hard enough."

His smile grew as the tip of his tongue darted out to tap his lip. "I suppose not."

I returned his smile and gazed around the room. "Great party," I commented.

"It is now," he raised a brow and reached for my hand. "Come, I'll get you a drink."

I followed him to the bar which was set in the corner closer to the stage where a band played Christmas songs. I watched Harry as he ordered cocktails for us and then turned to look at the musicians who were currently playing a jazzy rendition of "Winter Wonderland". I twisted my hips slightly to the rhythm until I felt Harry's hand on my back again.

"Here, love," he whispered in my ear.

"Thanks," I said, reaching for the glass. As I took a sip, we made eye contact, his brows furrowing a bit, causing a crease above his nose before relaxing into a smile. Licking my lips, I smiled back.

He looked really handsome in a lustrous black suit, the first few buttons on his white shirt undone to reveal his chest, giving a peak of his tattoos and the ever-present cross pendant that hung from his neck. But more than anything, I liked the way he was looking at me. A mix of desire like he was drinking me in, and friendly admiration. A warm feeling oozed through me down to my toes, and it wasn't just due to the alcohol.

"Are you ready for Christmas?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he nodded emphatically. "Finished all my shopping early so all I had to worry about was tonight. Then on Monday I'm flying home to be with my family."

"Oh, I bet you're excited about that," I remarked cheerfully, though I felt my heart plummet to my to stomach. Of course he was going to be with his family. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. I'd sort of hoped I'd get to see him sometime during the holiday.

"Won't be gone long though," said Harry, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh?" I raised my brows.

"Should be back a couple days after Christmas."

I smiled and nodded. So there was still hope...

The band changed it up then, starting in on a slow classic rock tune. I swayed my hips again, partly from nerves and partly because I liked the song. Harry noticed when I'd sipped the last of my cocktail through the straw, meeting only ice. He took the glass from me and set it down on the bar next to his.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asked me.

I beamed at him, nodding as I took his awaiting hand and followed him to the small area in front of the stage where other couples were dancing.

"So what are you doing for Christmas, Rebecca?" Harry's eyes focused on my face as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I felt butterflies in my stomach as we began to dance, one hand in his, the other near his shoulder, just above his chest.

"Well, I'll be with my mother on Christmas morning," I began, "and then I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Harry shook his head. "I just have to say this. I should have said it when I first saw you. But you look so beautiful."

I blinked. "Thank you."

"You look like...a Christmas angel," he commented low, a slight grin on his lips.

I felt a tiny giggle escape my throat and I knew I had to be blushing. "That's really sweet, thank you."

"You're welcome." Harry and I stared at each other for a minute until his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you. You were saying..."

My eyelids fluttered as I tried to remember what we were talking about. "Oh...um...Christmas morning with my mom, then we're going to my Aunt and Uncle's for dinner that evening. Lots of cousins and relatives, that sort of thing."

"Sounds lovely," he muttered.

I merely shrugged until Harry leaned closer. Releasing my hand, he brought his up to brush my hair off my shoulder. I quivered from the tiny gesture and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. But he surprised me by pressing his cheek to mine and inhaling.

"Mmm, you smell good too," he whispered.

In my head I was laughing. Why was he smelling my hair? But I didn't make a sound. Every nerve ending in my body felt like a frayed wire about to spark at any given moment. I stood frozen except for the almost nonexistent dancing we were engaged in. I felt Harry's arm pull me closer until my body was flush against his. His hand that had pushed my hair away was now on my neck while his cheek slid against mine as he shifted to look at me. His green eyes seemed to sparkle, reflecting the Christmas lights that decorated the room.

This time I knew he was going to kiss me. When he confirmed it by tilting his head, I instinctively slipped my arms around his neck. His lips were soft, his kiss equally tender. It was over much too quickly, but I didn't complain. I heard the band finish the classic rock tune, or perhaps it was a different one. I'd been too wrapped up in Harry to notice.

"Really glad you came," he finally said.

"Yeah?" I grinned.

Harry nodded, his eyelids heavy. I cleared my throat as the band began to play their next song. I recognized it right away, one of my favorites.

When the bells all ring and the horns all blow and the couples we know are fondly kissing Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

I felt Harry's hands slide down my back, and with a sigh, I bit my lip and stared at his handsome face as the singer continued, seemingly reading my mind.

Maybe it's much too early in the game Oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night Welcoming in the New Year New Year's Eve

"Harry," I said softly, prying my eyes from his to focus on his chest.

"Rebecca," he mimicked.

I gave a nervous chuckle, though I tried to sound nonchalant. "What are you doing New Year's Eve?"

"Well..." he began, "I'm not exactly sure yet."

I looked back up at him. "No?"

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose Out of a thousand invitations You received

Harry twisted his mouth to the side like he was pondering something. I waited with bated breath, but his next words not only cut me to the quick, but made me realize he hadn't been paying attention to the lyrics like I had been.

"I have a few things up in the air. A few different parties I've been invited to."

"Oh," I said, my face falling.

"And Jeff and Glenne might be having something too," he added.

"Oh."

Harry shrugged, oblivious to my disappointment. "Haven't decided yet."

"I see," I swallowed hard and averted my gaze. Sliding my hands down his shoulders, I muttered, "Will you excuse me?"

"You okay?" Harry inquired.

"Yes," I replied, finally looking at him. "Just need to go to the ladies' room."

"Oh, sure."

I barely waited for him to release me before I bolted for the bathroom. I'd just reached the door when I heard the singer sing the final refrain.

Ah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?

Rebecca, are you ok?

Are you ill? Did you leave early?

What happened??

I don't want to jump to conclusions, but if I did something, please let me know.

I'd stared at Harry's texts all night until I finally fell asleep. The final one had come through that morning, apparently before I'd even awakened. I wondered if Harry had stayed up all night.

With a sigh, I reluctantly replied.

You didn't do anything. I'm ok.

After crying for a few minutes in the ladies' room, I'd felt foolish. Other than perhaps the kiss, which was probably just a result of being caught up in the moment, I had no reason to suspect he would want to be with me for New Year's Eve. I was being ridiculous to assume and to cry over it. Wiping my tears, I snuck out of the bathroom to find him engaged in a conversation with a small group of people. I made my way around the bar to the exit and slipped out without him noticing.

I'd been home barely ten minutes when he texted me. I felt bad for not replying right away, but I was ashamed and humiliated, no fault of his. I had a bad habit of expecting people to feel the way I felt, and as a result I continuously got my heart broken.

This time, Harry surprised me by texting me back right away.

I thought we were having a good time. You left without saying goodbye.

I suddenly imagined Harry standing in the middle of the massive room, looking around for me, wondering what had happened. I felt a pang in my chest.

I'm really sorry. I just wasn't feeling well.

I'm sorry too, Rebecca. Are you ok now?

Yes.

I didn't know what else to say.

Good.

I guess he didn't either.

Feeling guilty, I tried to reassure him (or perhaps myself) with small talk (or, erm, text as the case was).

So you're leaving tomorrow?

Yes. Early. I haven't been to bed yet, was about to. So I can sleep all day.

Good plan.

He was quiet for a moment and I wondered if that was the end of the conversation. The pang in my chest had turned into a sour, nauseous feeling in my stomach. Now I really was ill.

Harry? I nervously texted.

I waited a few moments longer and didn't see the three dots come up. With a sigh, I dropped my phone on the bed beside me, plopping back onto my pillow. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. I liked Harry, a lot. And he seemed to like me too. But I'd made a mess of things. Now it felt like he was backing off.

As I wiped a tear, I suddenly heard my phone ping.

Sorry love, I was changing and getting into bed.

Oh God.

No worries. I blatantly lied. I should let you sleep.

Ok. If I don't get to talk to you, have a Merry Christmas.

I swallowed hard. Same to you.

Thanks x.

Well, I guess that was that. I was an idiot.

Christmas was lovely, I had to admit. I'd thought I'd have to fake my way through the day, since I had yet to hear from Harry. I hadn't wanted it to bother me like it had. But my mother as usual made the day special, and being with the rest of my relatives proved to be just the medicine I needed for a heavy heart.

It wasn't until I'd excused myself to use my Aunt Margie's enormous upstairs bathroom so I could have a few minutes of privacy (and to check my phone) that I'd noticed Harry had texted me earlier.

Merry Christmas Rebecca x

I looked at the time he'd sent it which was over three hours ago. Damn. It was late in England now, nearly midnight. But knowing Harry, he was still awake. If not, he would just get my message the next morning.

Merry Christmas Harry. I hope you had a great day.

I was just leaving the bathroom when my ringtone startled me.

"Hello?" I answered when I saw it was Harry.

"There's my Christmas angel," he said in a low voice. "I thought maybe you'd forgotten about me."

"Um," I giggled, taken aback. I wasn't expecting that greeting. "No, I haven't."

"Good. 'Cause I haven't forgotten you either. Did you have a good time with your family?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Still going on actually. I'm at my Aunt and Uncle's. They'll probably be breaking out the board games soon."

"Did that!" chuckled Harry. "I won."

"You won what?"

"I don't remember. I just know I won."

I laughed at his cheery disposition, wondering if perhaps he'd had a few too many egg noggs.

"I miss you, Rebecca," he confessed. "Been thinking about you since I left."

Yep, he was definitely drunk.

"Um...you have?"

"Yep. Keep thinking of you in that red dress. Dancing with you. Kissing you. Really wish you hadn't left me that night."

Any other time those words would have made me melt like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. But the way he slurred his words and the fact that he was across the ocean made his confession seem a little stale. I did however, notice how he'd said "me". Left "me" that night. I wasn't sure if it was a slip of the lip, but I caught it nonetheless.

"Harry, I'm-"

"I have something to ask you, Rebecca," he interrupted.

"Okay?" I sounded, my voice cracking just a bit.

"Can I see you when I get back?"

"Um, sure, I-"

"I have something I wanna give you."

"Okay," I barely managed to breathe.

"Right. Um," he chuckled. "I'm sorry, love, I've had a few glasses of wine."

"I kinda figured as much," I remarked, though in a teasing tone.

"You go have fun with your family. I'll call you, yeah?"

"Sure. Goodnight, Harry," I said.

"Goodnight, beautiful."

Harry called me two days later. He'd just returned from his holiday and wanted to see me. Unfortunately, this time I truly was ill. Probably from being around all of my relatives on Christmas, I'd somehow caught a bad cold. Harry didn't hide his disappointment.

"Damn, I really wanted to give you your gift today," he pouted.

"Harry, you didn't have to get me anything," I said.

"It's not much," he conveyed, "I just wanted you to have it."

"Maybe I'll be better in a couple days," I sniffled into the phone.

"I'm gonna be really busy then, unfortunately," he remarked.

"Oh," I groaned. "I'm sorry."

"'s okay. I'll get it to you sometime. You just get well."

If I hadn't been coughing every ten minutes and my nose hadn't been pouring, I might've felt more disappointment as well. He'd gotten me something. A gift.

I told myself I wasn't going to think too much of it. In typical Harry Styles fashion, he could have just been nice. And I noticed he wasn't flirting with me like he'd been on the phone Christmas day when he'd been drinking, calling me his Christmas angel and all that. And he certainly hadn't mentioned anything about New Year's Eve. He'd said he was going to be busy in a couple of days anyway. No. It was probably best that I was sick.

The next day after I'd managed to get out of bed and was in the kitchen in my robe making a cup of tea, my doorbell rang. Jumping, I clung my robe to my chest tightly and tiptoed to the door. My doorbell never rang. Peeking through the peephole, I saw no one. Still curious, I unlocked the door and opened it, only to see a small package on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it had my name on it, but no address, proving it hadn't been mailed but hand delivered. After looking both ways down the hall and confirming no one was there, I brought the package inside and set it on the kitchen counter.

Opening the box with my kitchen shears, careful not to cut too deep since I had no idea what was inside, I pulled out another smaller box which was wrapped in colorful Christmas tissue paper. I took a gander inside the larger box to see if there was any card or note but saw none. With great precision, I unwrapped the smaller box. As I moved it my hands, it felt light and heavy at the same time and when I finally set it back down on the counter, it made a sound.

A music box.

Ripping away the rest of the paper, I revealed a lovely rectangular wooden box with a simple cut-out of a moon and a music note on the top. I smiled as I ran my fingers over it before gently lifting the lid.

The tune, though familiar, didn't register with me at first. When it finally did, the music was over and my breath hitched in my throat. Lifting the box, I twisted the knob at the bottom to get the music to play again. I couldn't have stopped the tears if I'd tried.

The lovely music was in the tune of "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

Harry'd said he had something he wanted to ask me. This was it.

As I wiped my eyes, I heard my phone chime with a text.

Did you get my gift?

I laughed out loud, though I wasn't sure why.

Yes.

And?

It's lovely. Thank you.

Rebecca!

Harry.

Do I have to ask you properly? I don't wanna do it in a text.

No, I liked the way you asked me. I just can't really give you an answer right now. I'm still sick.

Then we'll have to get you well.

Ok

I have to go now. But was that a yes?

Yes.

For the second time that day, my doorbell rang. This time it was nearly 7PM and I was watching TV with my feet propped up on the recliner. And this time, when I looked through the peephole, someone was there.

"Harry," I said when I opened the door, covering my mouth with my handful of tissues. "What are you doing here? I'm sick."

"I know, I brought soup." Harry held up the covered pot that I just noticed in his hands.

"You didn't," I sighed.

"I did," he nodded before walked past me purposefully into my kitchen.

I watched as he set the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. Then he turned to me.

"Do you have a ladle?" he inquired.

I just stared at him.

"Big spoon? Ladle?" he gestured.

"Oh," I shook my head and pointed to the utensil carousel. "Yeah, right there."

Harry nodded and grabbed the ladle, lifting the lid off the pot with his other hand. He stirred the contents, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Have a seat," he ordered, pointing toward the small kitchen table.

I obliged, taking the seat nearest me so I could still look at him. He found the utensil drawer quickly, pulling out two spoons.

"Bowls?" he asked me.

I pointed to the cabinets next to his head where he retrieved two bowls and set them on the counter. Then he scooped up the soup with the ladle and filled one bowl at a time, setting one in front of me, and the other across from me.

"You're eating with me?" I looked up at him.

"Of course. What would you like to drink?"

"Water's fine," I said softly, pointing at the refrigerator. "There's bottles in the door."

Harry grabbed two bottles and sat down across from me at the table. I continued to stare at him as he blew on his hot soup.

"What?" he finally asked.

"I just...I don't know what to say."

"Don't have to say anything," he smirked. "Just eat. Get better so we can go out for New Year's."

I smiled at him, lifting my spoon.

"Harry, I-"

"Shh. Eat."

We ate in silence for a good ten minutes. I watched as his tongue darted out of his mouth with each bite, as if to test the temperature or taste before allowing his spoon to enter. I found it cute and endearing, and caught myself beaming at him a time or two.

"So I have a question now," I said, finally breaking the silence and setting my spoon in my bowl.

Harry looked up at me, licking his bottom lip. "Alright."

"Where exactly are we going? For New Year's I mean."

Harry's lips grew into a smile, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. "Ah. Well, that's actually another reason I came by." I watched as he pulled something out of his back pocket. Three somethings actually, and he laid them on the table in front of me.

"Those are what I've been invited to. Take your pick."

"Me?" I widened my eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Whichever sounds like something you'd like to do. I want you to choose."

I continued to glare at him before inspecting the invitations. Two were very swanky Hollywood parties, held at some of the most glitzy and glamorous hotels, the third at the home of his friends Jeff and Glenne, whom he'd mentioned before. I swallowed hard.

"Or..." Harry added, "we could just stay here."

"Here?" I echoed.

Harry shrugged. "We don't have to go to some fancy party, Rebecca." He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward. "I just wanna be with you."

I sniffled, grabbing the tissues from my pocket to wipe my nose. I felt horrible, and not just from my cold.

"I'm an idiot," I declared, looking down at my lap.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"I...I wasn't ill that night, Harry. I left early because...I thought you weren't interested."

"Why on earth would you think that?"

Finally lifting my head, I saw Harry's expression of confusion on his face. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"That song...started playing when we were dancing. I thought it was a sign or something. So I asked you what you were doing for New Year's Eve. And you said you didn't know."

Harry raised his brows. "I know."

"I thought...I thought that meant you...oh, I don't know what I thought it meant." I shook my head, feeling more and more like a fool.

"Rebecca," Harry grinned. "What more can I do to prove I like you?"

"Huh?" Great, now I even sounded like an idiot.

"I asked the band to play that song. I requested it specifically to be played while we were dancing."

"You...you did?"

"I was planning to ask you, but you beat me to it. It caught me off guard, so I had to play like I didn't notice the song. When you left for the bathroom, I got a plan B."

"Plan B?"

"I uh...asked the band to play "The Lady in Red" when you returned. I was gonna ask you then. But you never came back. I looked all over for you."

I hung my head in shame. "I'm so sorry," I muttered.

"Please. Don't apologize, love. I should have just asked you when you mentioned it. But...to be honest, I kind of got the feeling you were backing off."

"When?" I asked.

"Well," Harry hesitated, "the next day for one. When I texted you. I felt like something was wrong, not just that you were sick. But I was so bloody tired, I needed to get to sleep. Otherwise I would have just called and we could have talked. That's why I was glad when you finally texted me back on Christmas. I really wanted to talk to you."

"You were drunk, Harry," I scoffed.

"I was," he chuckled. "But I still meant every word I said. I missed you and I was thinking of you the entire time I was gone."

I blushed, looking down at my hands.

"I also wanted to make sure you were willing to see me when I returned," Harry continued. "I'd found that music box and I was really excited to give it to you. I reckoned that was the perfect opportunity to ask you out for New Year's Eve."

"I..I guess I'm not good at taking hints."

Harry laughed. "I guess not. 'Cause I thought I gave a lot."

I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my head in my hand. "I um...have a bad habit of reading too much into something. I suppose I was afraid of being wrong or disappointed. So I told myself you were just being nice. Even when you invited me to your Christmas party."

Harry's eyes staring directly into mine. "Rebecca, you're the person I cared the most about seeing at that party."

I widened my eyes. "Really?"

Harry smirked. "Yes. Do you think I called anybody else personally to make sure they were coming?"

If it was possible to still be breathing at that moment, I had no idea how I was. I felt the tears well in my eyes again so I threw my head back and quickly wiped them.

"I'm a first class moron," I muttered, my eyes shut tight.

"No you're not," I heard Harry say. "A little too cautious, maybe? But not a moron."

"I've just made a mess of everything," I cried. "You're so amazing, and while I got this idea in my head of kissing you at the stroke of midnight, you were thinking the same thing apparently, but I had no idea because I was getting ahead of myself while you were being romantic and I fucked it all up and-"

"Rebecca," said Harry, while I rambled.

"Then you got me that precious music box and came and brought me soup and you're so sweet, Harry, oh my god-"

"Rebecca!" Harry nearly shouted over me.

When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me, a look on his face that I couldn't quite read. My chest heaved with heavy breaths as I watched him rise from his chair and walk around the table to me. Then he surprised me by holding out his hand. Blinking, I took it and stood next to him as he pulled his phone out of his other back pocket. I watched as he tapped the screen a few times, then placed it on the table. The music began to play as Harry wrapped his arms around my waist. I smiled shyly when I recognized Ella Fitzgerald's voice come through the little speaker.

When the bells all ring and the horns all blow and the couples we know are fondly kissing Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

"Harry," I whispered as we began to sway.

Maybe it's much too early in the game

I sighed, sliding my hands up his arms to his shoulders. Harry's eyes sparkled just as they had that night at the Christmas party. I, however, probably looked like death warmed over and was suddenly conscious of my makeup-less face and oversized t-shirt.

"You're so beautiful," declared Harry.

"No," I shook my head. Harry merely nodded in response. Then slipping one hand from my waist, he lifted it and slid it under my ear as he continued to gaze into my eyes.

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight

His lips were on mine before I could protest. His other hand was now on the other side of my head as he cupped it gently.

"Harry," I whined between kisses. "Harry, I'm still sick. I don't...want you to get...what I have..."

"Shut up for a minute, Rebecca," he growled against my mouth. "I'm tryin' to be romantic."

With a slight giggle, I surrendered. Harry continued his soft kisses, leaving a trail across my cheek before pressing his against mine.

Ah, but in case I stand one little chance

Harry crooned in my ear, singing along to Ella.

Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?

Lifting his head, he looked at me with the greenest, most sincere eyes I'd ever seen. His thumbs massaged my jaw for a moment or two before he spoke.

"So what do you say, love?"

The song had ended, but I felt like my body was still dancing.

"I say I want nothing more than to be with you. Wherever it is."

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. Harry had texted to say he was on his way. After our little dance in the kitchen, we'd decided together to attend Jeff and Glenne's party. They were his friends after all, and the atmosphere, though still somewhat fancy, would probably be a little more relaxed and informal. Plus, Harry had made a good point that their house had a lovely patio, and we could step outside if needed, unlike at a stuffy hotel ballroom. Personally, I thought he was just thinking of more ways to be romantic. I wasn't about to fight him on that.

I'd still been under the weather for another day or so, but finally trudged through the next day so I could go shopping for something to wear. Harry had said he'd love to see me in that red dress again, but I'd told him he'd already seen me in it, and most likely anybody else who had seen me at the Christmas party that would also be at this one, including Jeff and Glenne. It was too soon for repeats, I told him.

So this time I'd chosen a short gold sequined dress with a sexy black mesh section down the front. I had to admit, I looked pretty and felt amazing in it. I stepped into my black heels and twirled around, smiling at myself just as I heard the doorbell. Grabbing my matching clutch, I answered the door excitedly.

"Oh!" I exclaimed when I opened it. I hadn't been prepared for what I saw before me. He was so handsome, he took my breath away. "Wow."

Harry nodded. "Wow, indeed."

It was only then that I noticed he was eyeing me up and down, taking me all in.

"My God, Rebecca," he swallowed hard before puffing out a huge breath. "Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful..."

I felt the blood literally flush my face at his compliment. I suddenly felt hot and weak in the knees.

"Thank you," I barely whispered.

Locking the door behind me, I took Harry's hand and walked with him out to the awaiting car.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so happy. Jeff and Glenne were absolutely wonderful people and such gracious hosts. After an hour or so I was already feeling right at home and even told them I wanted their house (teasing of course, as though I could ever afford it). They both told me I looked beautiful, and once when I excused myself to go to the restroom, I turned to see Jeff pat Harry on the shoulder and heard Glenne say I was lovely.

When I returned, Harry beamed at me, sliding his arm around my waist.

"Thank God," he sighed in my ear.

"What?" I stared at him incredulously.

"Was afraid you'd run off again."

"Harry!" I scoffed, but I realized he wasn't joking. At least not entirely.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I swear that's not happening tonight."

"Good," he grinned. "Are you having a good time?"

I nodded emphatically. "The best." Then I leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips.

Harry didn't leave my side all night except to use the toilet himself. He enjoyed introducing me to people, which made me feel appreciated, and I enjoyed seeing him happy and loose.

We took a stroll outside on the patio that was glowing with strings of lights. It was heavenly with the California breeze keeping the night cool, but not too cold. I stood by the railing looking out while Harry stood behind me, his hands on my hips as he nuzzled his face in my hair and down my neck.

About twenty minutes before midnight, the champagne started to get passed around so that everyone would have a glass to toast with.

"Rebecca," said Harry, raising his glass, "before the ball drops, I wanna make a little toast. To you."

"To me?" I smiled up at him.

"To us," he corrected, sliding his other hand down my arm until he captured my hand in his. Then clearing his throat, he continued. "Thank you for coming with me tonight."

"Thank you for asking me."

Harry's smile grew as he squeezed my hand. "You were my Christmas angel...if only for a bit..."

I looked down until Harry released my hand to lift my chin.

"Now you're...I'd say New Year's Eve angel but it doesn't make sense and honestly...you're even better than that."

For once I was totally speechless.

"Twenty seconds!" I heard someone call out.

Harry sighed. "To you, Rebecca. And hopefully...to us."

Not taking my eyes off his face, I clinked my glass with his and took a sip.

"To us," I finally echoed, lowering my glass.

"Ten! Nine!"

Harry's dimples dipped again as he took my glass from me and set it next to his on a nearby table.

"Six! Five!"

He grabbed me once more by the waist, pulling me flush against him, like he had when we were dancing. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck so that my face was merely inches from his. I felt his breath as he counted along with everyone, though not loud enough for me to hear.

"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

His mouth was on mine before I finished saying year. He kissed me deeply like his life depended on it, and probably mine as well. I let my fingers tangle in the curls on the back of his head as I melted into each kiss. I could hear cheering around us, but it all sounded far away. There was only Harry and me, our lips, our tongues, our moment.

When our mouths finally separated, Harry continued to stare at me until a slow grin spread across his face.

"Happy New Year," he murmured.

"Yes," I nodded, my fingers grazing his cheek. "Very happy."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[amethystarachnid]

LAZY DAY

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.2k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Too Hot To Handle is mentioned because that shows makes me laugh so much, also y/n is on her period, mentions of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix so Sirius' death

ᯓ★ Timeline: not in a defined timeline, just after the Avengers where formed

ᯓ★ Request: If it's still possible, I would like to request one too! For Tony with "grumpy x sunhine" I am the most grumpy girl in the morning 😂 and it would be amazing to have Tony to cheer me up with his amazing beauty and by giving me lots of kisses, cuddling in bed in the morning, making me breakfast and spending the day with me in bed 💗 ( @little-angel-oc)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The sound of the blinds whirring open stirs you from the fringes of sleep. You grunt, pulling the blankets over your head, already dreading the day before it even starts. Mornings have never been your thing, but today… Today is different. Today, you woke up with the telltale ache in your lower abdomen that screams it’s here. And as if on cue, you feel the heavy lethargy that comes with it—your period.

It doesn't help that you woke up to Tony Stark’s penthouse, basking in the golden sunlight streaming in through the windows—because, of course, he’s already up, cheerful as ever.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Tony’s voice rings out, way too chipper for your mood. You can hear the smug smile in his voice, and it grates at your nerves, even if you know he means well.

"Mmrf," you mumble incoherently from under the blankets, hoping he'll just take the hint and let you brood in peace. But no, Tony is… Tony. And subtlety isn't exactly his strong suit.

His weight dips the bed as he climbs back in beside you. You feel his presence hovering, the warmth of his body coming closer. Then, soft kisses. One on your shoulder, another on the nape of your neck. His stubble tickles your skin, but you’re too grumpy to be charmed by it. Not yet, at least.

"Come on, don’t hide from me." His lips trail up to your temple, and then another kiss, right on your cheek. He’s relentless. "I made coffee. Just the way you like it."

You groan again, burying yourself deeper under the covers. “Not now, Stark.”

“Aw, come on, I thought we were past the last-name thing,” Tony teases, his voice filled with playful hurt. “You’re killing me here. I come bearing gifts.” His hands smooth over the blanket that cocoons you, and despite your mood, his touch is soothing.

You’re not sure why it worked—him breaking through your defenses. Maybe it’s because he’s the only one who ever tried.

You met Tony a little over three years ago. Not at one of his infamous parties or on a whirlwind trip to Europe like you might expect, but at a quiet charity event. You were the kind of person who kept to yourself, volunteering quietly behind the scenes. Tony, of course, was the star of the evening, charming everyone in his path. Everyone except you.

He noticed immediately. You weren’t fawning over him, and that caught his attention. He was used to people gravitating toward his magnetism, and for you to seem completely unimpressed? That intrigued him. So, naturally, Tony being Tony, he made it his mission to get a smile out of you.

It took weeks. Weeks of him sending flowers to your office, dropping by with coffee, and pestering you with texts that ranged from the utterly ridiculous to oddly sweet. He was insistent, and even though you found him exasperating, something about his relentless positivity started to wear you down. You were the storm and he was the sunshine, determined to break through your clouds.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for him. Hard. But it was mutual. Tony fell for you, too. For the way you saw the world, for how you never let him get away with his usual antics. You kept him grounded, and he showed you it was okay to let the light in.

Now, here you are. Grumpy as ever, in his bed, while he’s trying to shower you with affection despite the fact you’re ready to bite his head off.

“I know you’re awake in there,” Tony murmurs, his voice softening as he slips under the covers with you. His hand finds your waist, tugging you gently against him. “I’m not going anywhere. You can hide from the day, but not from me.”

“I’m cramping,” you mutter, finally poking your head out from the blankets. Your face is probably scrunched up in irritation, but Tony only smiles, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Ah, the monthly monster strikes again,” he says sympathetically. “You should’ve told me earlier. I would’ve whipped up something better than coffee.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a tiny smirk playing at your lips. “Tony, you’re not even allowed near the stove. Remember last time?”

“Hey, that omelette was edible,” he defends, making you snort. “Barely.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “First, we’re going to stay in bed all day. No meetings, no Avengers nonsense, nothing. Just you and me.”

You hum, the idea already starting to sound more appealing.

“Second,” he continues, his fingers brushing through your hair softly, "I'm going to give you approximately one million kisses. It’s scientifically proven to improve your mood.”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Tony replies, grinning as he leans in and starts peppering your face with light, playful kisses—on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally, your lips. It’s impossible not to laugh, and the sound escapes you before you can stop it.

“There it is,” Tony says triumphantly, pulling back just enough to catch your eye. “I knew I could make you smile.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, you love me,” he shoots back, his voice teasing but laced with affection. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

You bury your face in his chest, hiding the small smile that refuses to leave your lips. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

Tony laughs, a soft, warm sound that vibrates against your cheek, and he presses another kiss to the top of your head.

“Now,” he says, reaching over for the tray, “how about breakfast in bed? Then, we can cuddle and watch whatever cheesy rom-com you’re in the mood for.”

You lift your head slightly, giving him a skeptical look. “You hate rom-coms.”

Tony smirks, handing you a piece of toast. “I hate bad rom-coms. But I love you, so I’ll suffer through it.”

You snort, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” he says, settling back against the pillows with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s part of my charm.”

Tony snuggles in closer, his arm wrapping tighter around your waist as he carefully balances the tray on his lap. You sit up a little, taking a piece of toast from the plate, though the idea of eating doesn’t really appeal to you right now. Still, you know he’s trying to make things better in his own way, and that’s worth something. You nibble on the toast to appease him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He strokes his fingers through your hair absently, the simple act soothing in a way only he can make it. The room is quiet, aside from the distant hum of the world outside Stark Tower and Tony’s soft breathing beside you.

For a moment, it’s peaceful. Then Tony breaks the silence, unable to help himself.

“So,” he says, voice playful, “what’s the plan after we finish breakfast? Want to binge some terrible reality TV? Or,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively, “we could finally finish that puzzle we started. You know, the one that’s only 90% done because someone”—he pokes your side—“gave up and declared it was impossible.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “I’m not finishing that puzzle, Tony.”

“But you were so close! Just a few more—”

“No.” You turn to glare at him, but there’s no real anger behind it. Just exhaustion. He notices, his teasing smile softening into something more concerned.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll skip the puzzle. Maybe just… rest, then?”

“Maybe,” you murmur, sinking further into him, suddenly too tired to care about anything other than the warmth of his body next to yours.

Tony’s hand moves to your lower back, massaging gently. It’s as if he knows exactly where the pain is the worst, his touch deliberate and comforting. You close your eyes, letting the tension in your muscles melt away. Despite the grumpiness that’s been clinging to you since you woke up, you can feel yourself softening against him.

He tilts his head down, his lips grazing your temple. “How about this,” he says softly, “we take the day one hour at a time. No plans, no pressure. If you want to just lie here, we lie here. If you want to nap, we nap. Whatever you need.”

You sigh, appreciating how much he’s willing to adjust for you, for the person you are on days like this. “You’re really okay with just doing nothing all day?” you ask, even though you know the answer.

“With you? I could do nothing for the rest of my life and be happy,” Tony says, his tone surprisingly sincere.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You? Not working for a whole day? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He grins, his fingers tracing circles on your arm. “Okay, okay, I might check a couple emails. But only a couple. Maybe one phone call…”

“Tony.”

“Alright! I’ll leave the work alone for the day,” he promises, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Scout’s honor.”

The warmth of his kiss lingers on your skin, and despite yourself, you feel some of the irritability start to slip away. Tony has always had that effect on you—making even the worst days feel just a little bit more bearable. It’s one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, how he could see through all your sharp edges and somehow make you feel seen, cared for.

You shift slightly, finding a more comfortable position in his arms. He takes the empty plate from your hand and sets it aside, his arm slipping back around you without missing a beat.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you ask quietly, unsure where the question comes from. “Taking care of me when I’m like this?”

Tony’s brow furrows slightly, but there’s no hesitation in his response. “No. Never.”

You give him a skeptical look, but before you can argue, he continues. “Hey, we’ve been through worse, haven’t we? You’ve put up with me for years now—there’s no way I’m letting a few grumpy mornings scare me off.”

You bite your lip, feeling that familiar wall start to rise, the one that tells you to brush off his concern and hide behind sarcasm. But Tony’s looking at you so earnestly, with that mix of affection and stubbornness that’s impossible to argue with. So instead, you let out a breath and nod, resting your head back on his shoulder.

“I guess you’re stuck with me, then,” you mutter, though there’s a hint of warmth in your voice.

Tony presses another kiss to your head. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

For a while, you just lie there together, the sound of his breathing steady and calming. You close your eyes, letting the dull ache in your body fade into the background. It’s not gone, not completely, but with Tony beside you, it feels manageable. It always does.

“Tell you what,” Tony says after a while, his voice soft and laced with mischief. “Why don’t we make this a thing? Once a month, we do nothing but stay in bed. No meetings, no saving the world, just us. I’ll even bring you breakfast every time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Once a month? You’d get bored after the first hour.”

He shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Maybe. But I could think of a few ways to keep us entertained.”

There’s a glint in his eyes, and despite your grumpiness, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he quips, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you closer.

You don’t reply, but you don’t have to. The way you relax into him, the way you let out a soft sigh of contentment, says enough.

The afternoon sun casts long, lazy shadows across the room as you lie nestled into Tony’s side, still wrapped in the cocoon of blankets. The tray of breakfast long since cleared, the only remnants of your morning now are the occasional crumbs you both keep brushing away. The TV in front of you flickers with the unmistakable chaos of a reality show, and despite your initial protests, you're several episodes deep into Too Hot to Handle.

"Okay, seriously," you groan, watching one of the contestants dramatically storm off after another contrived argument. "How are these people real? There’s no way."

Tony’s laugh rumbles against your back, his arm draped comfortably around you. “I know, right? It’s like watching aliens try to figure out human emotions.”

You snort. “Pretty sure aliens would handle this better.”

On-screen, another contestant confesses that they’re “not here to make friends,” to which Tony rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ah, the classic line. When are they ever here to make friends?”

“They’re not even here to find love,” you mutter. “They just want the prize money.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “And the Instagram followers.”

You half-laugh, half-groan as a new couple starts having a heated conversation about trust—again, for the third time in the episode. “This is torture. Why did I let you talk me into watching this?”

“Oh, I talked you into it?” Tony teases, giving your waist a playful squeeze. “Because if I recall, you were the one who said, ‘Anything, as long as it doesn’t require brain power.’ This show? Zero brain power required. It's perfect.”

You glare up at him, but the smile playing on your lips betrays you. “I hate that you’re right.”

He grins, planting a kiss on your forehead. “It happens more than you think.”

You turn your attention back to the show, shaking your head in disbelief as the contestants participate in yet another ridiculous challenge. “They’re literally just being forced to sit on a beach and not make out. How is this a show?”

Tony chuckles. “Human willpower, baby. People love watching others struggle.”

“That’s not willpower. That’s just people being dumb,” you mutter, shifting against him to get more comfortable.

He shifts too, adjusting the pillows behind him, making sure you're completely settled before draping his arm back over your shoulders. “You know, if we were on this show, we’d be dominating,” Tony says, nodding towards the screen.

You shoot him a look, one eyebrow raised. “We wouldn’t even be on this show. This is exactly the kind of thing I’d avoid at all costs.”

“Hypothetically, though,” Tony continues, a mischievous glint in his eye, “if we were on this island or retreat or whatever… We’d walk away with all the money. Zero slip-ups. We'd be a power couple.”

You roll your eyes. “Please. You’d be the first one to break the rules.”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me? I am a gentleman. I can control myself.”

You snort. “Yeah, right. You can’t even make it through a whole episode of this without making some comment about how ‘ridiculous’ it is. There’s no way you’d last.”

Tony leans in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “I’m very good at following rules… when I want to.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but you don’t let him see how much his words affect you. You shove him playfully, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “See? You’d crack under pressure.”

“Never,” he insists, though his grin gives him away. “But you? You’d be the real rule-breaker.”

You tilt your head, amused. “Me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says with a nod, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You act all tough and grumpy, but deep down? You’ve got a soft side. You’d cave the second they throw a romantic dinner at you.”

You scoff. “I’m not that soft.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, completely unconvinced. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart. I’ve seen you cry at dog videos.”

You nudge him with your elbow, but you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “Shut up.”

Tony grins, pulling you closer, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “Face it—we’d be the most entertaining couple on the show. The producers would love us.”

“Because I’d be constantly yelling at you to follow the rules?” you quip.

“Exactly,” Tony says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You shake your head, laughing at the absurdity of the conversation, but there’s something about it that feels… nice. Even on a day like this Tony still manages to make you laugh, to make you feel lighter. It’s ridiculous, but it’s exactly what you need.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you say, leaning your head against his chest.

“I am, actually,” Tony says, his tone suddenly softer, more genuine. “Every day.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget about the ridiculous show on TV. You look up at him, seeing that familiar warmth in his eyes—the same look he gave you the first time he told you he loved you, the same look that reminds you why, despite all his quirks and chaos, you fell for him in the first place.

You reach up and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering for just a second longer than usual. “I’m lucky too.”

Tony smiles, the kind of smile that makes you feel like everything in the world is right, even when your body aches and your mood is sour. “So,” he says, voice light again, “do we keep watching, or do we switch to something less… terrible?”

You glance back at the TV, where yet another argument is brewing between contestants who probably won’t last past the reunion episode. “Let’s keep watching,” you say, surprising yourself.

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You’re getting into it, aren’t you?”

You sigh, leaning back into him. “No, it’s just… if I have to suffer, I’m dragging you down with me.”

Tony laughs, that infectious sound filling the room as he pulls you even closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And just like that, the afternoon drifts by, with the two of you lost in the ridiculous drama on screen, but more importantly, lost in the warmth of each other’s company.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the room in a soft orange glow, you’re still comfortably tucked into bed, your legs intertwined with Tony’s. The reality show marathon had finally come to an end—mercifully—and now the two of you are lounging in the blissful silence of the early evening.

Tony, ever the thoughtful partner, has already ordered takeout for dinner. You didn’t even need to ask; he knew you wouldn’t feel like cooking, especially today. “I got McDonald’s,” he announces with a proud grin as he taps away on his phone, tracking the delivery.

“Comfort food. Nice touch,” you say, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“You’re not gonna complain about all the fries I ordered?” Tony teases.

“Not today,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. “I’m going to hop in the shower. My body feels all… ugh.”

Tony’s eyes light up, his grin widening as he sits up too, resting his chin on his hand. “Oh? Shower, you say?”

You immediately catch the playful tone in his voice, and you shoot him a look, knowing exactly where this is going. “Tony—”

“Come on,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s been a lazy day, and I think we could both use a nice, hot, shared shower. I promise, I’ll behave.” He gives you an exaggerated wink that’s so over-the-top, you can’t help but laugh.

You shake your head, sliding off the bed. “Absolutely not.”

Tony pouts, shifting onto his knees as he watches you walk to the bathroom. “Why not?” he protests, though there’s no real weight behind his argument. “We’re in a committed relationship. There’s nothing wrong with—”

“I’m on my period,” you interrupt flatly, raising an eyebrow as you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Tony pauses, his eyes narrowing in consideration before he stands and follows you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, refusing to let the conversation go. “So?” he says, shrugging. “Not like I care. I just want to be near you.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that. “Tony, I love you, but this is my one chance to have five minutes of peace.”

His grin softens into something a little more affectionate, though his tone remains light. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your ‘me’ time. But if you change your mind…” He leans in closer, dropping his voice into a whisper. “I’ll be right here. Ready.”

You can’t help but laugh, shoving him playfully toward the bedroom. “Go wait for the food, Stark.”

He gives you one last, overdramatic pout before retreating with a sigh. “Fine. But only because I love you.”

Shaking your head, you finally close the door, the sound of Tony’s soft humming fading as you start the water. The hot steam begins to fill the small space, and you let out a contented sigh as you step under the showerhead. The warmth helps soothe the dull ache in your body, and for the first time all day, you feel a little more like yourself.

When you finally emerge, your hair wrapped in a towel and a fresh pair of pajamas on, the scent of fries and burgers has filled the room. Tony’s already settled back on the bed, the food laid out neatly on the tray between the two of you. He’s wearing one of his worn-out band t-shirts, the kind that’s been washed so many times it’s practically soft enough to sleep in.

“Look at that timing,” Tony says as you approach. “Hot shower and hot food all waiting for you. I should win some kind of award for this.”

You smile, climbing back into bed and settling next to him. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

He grins, popping a fry into his mouth. “I live to serve.”

You grab a burger and unwrap it, savoring the familiar comfort of the greasy food. There’s something about McDonald’s that hits differently on days like this, and you let out a satisfied sigh as you take the first bite.

Tony reaches for the remote, flicking through the movie options. “Okay, your choice—Harry Potter marathon or Lord of the Rings marathon? I’m letting you pick because I’m a generous, loving boyfriend.”

You tilt your head thoughtfully. “Harry Potter.”

“Good choice,” he nods approvingly as he navigates to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. “Though I may regret this later when you start crying.”

You roll your eyes, though you know he’s right. Sirius’s death always hits hard, but today, with your emotions running higher than usual, you know it’s going to hit even harder. Still, there’s something comforting about watching a movie you’ve seen a hundred times, where you know every scene, every line. It feels like home.

As the movie starts, the two of you settle in with your food, occasionally exchanging bits of conversation and laughter between bites. Tony sneaks a few of your fries, even though he has his own, and you flick a stray piece of lettuce at him when he teases you for getting emotional over Harry’s reunion with Sirius.

Then the fateful moment arrives. As Bellatrix’s spell hits Sirius, sending him tumbling through the veil, your heart clenches. You feel your throat tighten, and before you can stop yourself, tears well up in your eyes.

Tony, of course, notices immediately.

“Oh no, here it comes,” he says softly, putting down his burger and wrapping his arm around you. “Come here, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, leaning into him as your eyes stay glued to the screen. “It’s just so unfair,” you mutter, your voice thick with emotion. “He finally had someone. He was going to have a family again.”

Tony nods, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. It sucks.”

You curl into him more, the sadness of the scene mingling with your already fragile emotions. The tears start to spill over, and Tony just holds you tighter, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Let it out. I’ll cry with you if you want.”

You laugh through the tears, wiping at your eyes. “No, you won’t.”

He grins, squeezing you gently. “Alright, maybe not. But I’ll be here while you do.”

For the rest of the scene, you cling to him, the sadness ebbing and flowing as you mourn the loss of Sirius for the hundredth time. Tony doesn’t say much, just holds you close, his presence warm and reassuring. He knows better than to try to fix it—he just lets you feel what you need to feel.

As the movie moves on and your tears subside, you pull away slightly, wiping your eyes and letting out a long breath. Tony reaches over to hand you a napkin, and you smile, taking it gratefully.

“Thanks,” you mumble, dabbing at your face.

He leans in, kissing your cheek. “Anytime, babe. Anytime.”

With the worst of the tears behind you, you settle back into the comfort of Tony’s arms, the two of you snuggled up under the covers as the movie continues. The food is mostly forgotten at this point, but you don’t mind. The weight of the day, the grumpiness, the cramps—they all seem a little more distant with Tony by your side.

I'm sorry I just love Sirius so much that I had to put him here even if it's about his death...If you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog (that's what keeps Tumblr posts going) and maybe leave a comment or a follow if you want! <3

Ivy Rose