#lily's café

[nenehyuuchiha]

CASTIEL?!

[spookythesillyfella]

the worst idea came to me while i waz making an actual important drawing.

[vaunteir]

i could azujamify these songs watch

[phototagebuch]

31.10.2024: Lilie

[yasministration]

It's a date - harry potter

concussions and interruptions au summary: when harry and his parents see you in diagon alley, they are surprised to see the sudden change in behaviour you have at your parents' presence. but that won't stop harry from getting his kiss. wc: 1.4k+

Harry leaned his head on his hand, laughing softly as his mother told him a story, much to his father’s embarrassment. “She’s getting it completely wrong!” Argued James as Harry lifted up his butterbeer to his lips, eyes trailing to the side to watch people walk up and down the square, the wide streets of Diagon Alley giving him opportunity to people watch.

He was sat with his parents on a table on the side of the road, enjoying a drink from their favourite café, the summer sun shining down brightly on them. Harry closed his eyes softly as the rays of sun targeted him, and James immediately took the hat off his head to offer it to his son. Harry shook his head, thanking his father and urging Lily to continue her story.

But he suddenly wasn’t able to focus, because walking out of Ceridwen’s Cauldrons was the love of his life. Harry straightened up, a wide grin forming on his face as he saw you, but before he could call out your name, a tall woman walked out of the shop behind you, a stern look on her face as she walked side by side with you.

Harry slumped back, holding his tongue. The woman was unmistakably your mother. What you were wearing made sense now. Like every pureblood woman, you looked oddly comfortable in your elegant black dress that stopped below your knee and heels that were undeniably a challenge to walk in on the uneven stone. Lily and James followed their son’s eye line, frowning at the neutral look on your face; emotionless, matching that of just about every single pureblood.

They suddenly remembered when they’d stopped by the hospital wing after Harry had gotten himself injured in another quidditch game. You had a fond smile on your face, looking at the boy with mesmerised eyes, the love on your features indisputable. The girlfriend they were seeing now was not the same one they’d met at hogwarts, who stuttered when seeing them, a look of embarrassment on your face when your boyfriend had pulled you into a kiss in front of his parents.

Now, with a stoic expression on your face, you were unrecognisable. Your eyes flitted upwards at the feeling that you were being watched. You almost smiled when you saw Harry, feeling the corners of your lips tug upwards, but in practiced habit, you trained your lips to stay still. Neither Harry or his parents missed the way your eyes lit up with youthful excitement, but your head quickly snapped to the side to look at your mother who had been expecting a response from you.

Nodding, you watched as she took a left into the nearest shop, and instead of following her instructions to ‘wait here’, you hurried your steps down the lane, letting a beautiful smile blossom on your face.

Control yourself, you repeated in your mind, coming to a halt in front of the table. “Hi.” You spoke softly, greeting your boyfriend and his parents. “Am I allowed to give you a hug, or..?” You smiled apologetically at your boy, shaking your head slowly. “I’m sorry Harry, my family is everywhere.” Harry nodded, trying to suppress the sadness from appearing on his face, but you still saw the way it fleeted across his eyes.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter.” You greeted, bowing your head down to them. James grinned at you, chuckling softly as he said hello. He was thrilled to find out you weren’t still humiliated from the kiss Harry had placed upon your lips in front of them. After all, it had been several months since they had met you for the first time.

You did an apprehensive look around, ensuring none of your family was around. Alas, a strong hand was placed on your shoulder and you gasped, straightening your back impossibly further than it already was. “Why are you standing around in the middle of the street?” You father questioned with a strict, judgemental tone.

Lily frowned as the smile immediately dropped from your face, replaced by a look of fear. “I, um, I’m waiting for mother.” Your father scanned the area nearby, tilting his head in question when he didn’t spot his wife. “She’s in Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons.” You explained.

Your father hummed at your response, and you realised his gaze was occupied. You turned around, following his line of sight. He was staring directly at James Potter. “Potter.” Your father spat, receiving a scowl from your boyfriend’s father.

He yanked you away from the table and you stumbled towards him. Though he lowered his volume, Harry still heard him say “I have business in Knockturn Alley. Meet me with your mother by Esmerelda’s Bakery.”

You nodded obediently at your father, and he added “Don’t forget to tell her. I don’t need you making silly mistakes again.”

“Yes, father. I apologise for my mistakes.”

“Have you gone to your mother’s designer to discuss a dress for the Parkinsons’ ball?” You shook your head wordlessly. “I expect you to be done when I return.”

“How long-” But your father was already spinning on the balls of his feet and disappearing into the alleyway.

You cleared your throat, beginning to walk away when you felt a tug on your hand. You pulled your hand away from Harry’s hold, looking around to make sure no one had seen the small movement. “It’s fine.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile. “It was nice to see you.” You directed those words to Harry’s parents before you were on your way to find your mother again. Lily Potter tightened her grip around her husband's arm, a frown forming on her face. She glanced at Harry, reaching out to place a hand over one of his, his gaze stuck on where you disappeared into the shop.

Your mother was still busy in the shop, discussing something in a hushed tone with the worker. “Mother, should I go to the tailor? Get my measurements before she discusses the designs with us?” She dismissed you with a “Yes, go along dear.” And you were immediately rushing out of the shop, trying to shake off the embarrassment of Harry and his parents witnessing the exchange with your father.

You made a sharp turn into an empty alleyway, only stopping at the sharp call of your name. Harry was running towards you, panting softly. You took the opportunity to scan his outfit — something you hadn't had time for before. A light-washed pair of jeans and a plain green t-shirt. Smiling at him softly, you said in an ‘I told you so’ voice “I told you green suits you better.”

“Yeah, that’s why mum got me this shirt. Said who do you want to impress other than your girlfriend?”

You chuckled, lifting your hands up to Harry’s chest. He pushed you back against the wall of the alley and you gasped as he pressed his lips to yours, his nose nudging the side of yours. “I just really wanted to get that hug.” Harry explained, his arms snaking around your waist. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

Pecking Harry’s lips softly, you mumbled “I’m sorry you had to see that with my father.” Harry’s hand came up to hold the side of your face. “No, I’m sorry sweetheart. That you have to deal with jerks like him.”

“Yeah, me too.” You glanced up at Harry, feeling yourself shrink under his watchful gaze. “Uh, can I get a last kiss before we let go?” Harry laughed as he leaned in, kissing you passionately for a few seconds before parting from you completely, arms falling to his sides. You sighed as he took a couple of steps back.

“So the Parkinsons’ ball. Do you have a date?” Questioned Harry, trying not to sound jealous. “Yeah,” You started, and Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had been joking. “I mean, Daphne asked me but so did Astoria.” Harry laughed whole-heartedly, putting a hand on his chest in relief. “It makes it kind of awkward too since they’re sisters. I don’t like playing people like that.”

You glanced down at your feet, twiddling with your fingers. “Um, how about the night of the ball, I ask my parents if I can sleep over at Daphne’s, but instead I come find you somewhere?”

“They’ll cover for you?”

You nodded at his question, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

“In that case, come over. You can change into something more comfortable at mine, and mum and dad would love to have you.”

“It’ll be late though.”

“It’s fine, they’ll probably be up with my uncles anyway.”

You nodded, a smile blossoming on your face. Your heart began racing at the rebellious plan.

“It’s a date then.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @hisparentsgallerryy, @liviessun, @rory-cakes, @heebiemcjeebies, @fl0weryannie, @muffinemmaa, @anne061989, @regsg18, @graciereads, @adharaoaklyn

[gwenivere]

to the person who just dropped the first nine episode of guinevere jones in french on youtube: le jour où je découvre qui tu es, je vais t'épouser.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ forgotten

synopsis: you were supposed to have a sweet date with your boyfriends, but an hour passed, and they never showed. maybe you were never really part of the marauders—maybe you were just fooling yourself content warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, feelings of abandonment/insecurity, mentions of being stood up, slight self-doubt/self-worth issues series: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,055

The small café was almost unbearably stuffy, the kind of warmth that clung to your skin like a bad memory. You sat at the tiny table, your fingers wrapped around the fifth, long-cold cup of coffee. Five empty cups already littered the space around you, their contents drained, and yet the boys were nowhere to be seen. The delicate pink and gold décor of Madam Puddifoot's—once sweet and charming—now felt suffocating.

You glanced up at the clock again.

They were an hour late.

Your heart sank lower into your stomach. An hour. The tiny voice in your head whispered cruel thoughts, thoughts you tried so hard to push away but they gnawed at you nonetheless. Did they stand me up?

You and the boys had only been dating for a few months—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter. It was unconventional, but you all cared about each other, or so you thought. The beginning had been a whirlwind of excitement and passion, stolen kisses in the corridors, late-night sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. But lately… lately, something had shifted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slipping through the cracks, that the bond they shared with each other was unbreakable and you were just some added accessory, an outsider trying to fit into a world that already had no space left for you.

A pang of doubt stung your chest. Maybe you had been stupid to believe that this could work. That they wanted you, truly wanted you. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared down at the empty cups. Five cups. Five glasses, just like five people. You had been here. But where were they?

Each tick of the clock seemed to mock you. You had tried to convince yourself, at first, that they were just running late, that something had come up. They were the Marauders after all, always busy with some adventure or prank. But now? Now, you weren't so sure. The knot in your chest tightened, the air in the café becoming harder to breathe in. You were drowning in your thoughts, the same ones spiraling over and over.

Maybe I’m not important enough for them. Maybe they’ve realized they don’t need me. Just each other.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You quickly wiped it away, but the damage was done. Your heart was cracking with each passing second, each tick of the clock hammering the reality into you: they weren’t coming. They had forgotten you. Or worse, maybe they never even planned on showing up.

The idea that they had stood you up made your blood boil, but underneath the anger was the cold sting of hurt. They were supposed to be yours. How could they do this? How could they leave you waiting here, like some fool, while they—?

You couldn’t stay here any longer. The sight of the café and the sound of the clinking china cups was making you nauseous. You grabbed your things, hands shaking, and bolted out of the door, the chilly evening air hitting your tear-streaked face. The wind stung, but not as much as the empty feeling gnawing at your chest.

Your feet carried you without thinking. You needed to get away, to find solace, to bury yourself in someone who cared. And there was only one place to go.

Lily and Mary’s dorm.

When you burst into the room, Lily and Mary were tangled up together on the bed, kissing softly, not noticing your entrance at first. The door creaked behind you, and suddenly, they pulled apart, eyes wide and worried as they saw your tear-stained face.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” Lily was up in an instant, rushing over to you, her hands gripping your shoulders gently as she took in the sight of you, broken and shaking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, a sob escaped, one that ripped through you, and you crumpled into her arms. Mary had joined the two of you by now, her eyes filled with concern.

“Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?” Mary’s voice was gentle, but the panic was clear.

You choked back another sob, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I hate them,” you finally spat, the bitterness in your voice taking even you by surprise. “I hate them so much.”

Lily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The boys? What did they do?”

“They didn’t show up,” you hissed, the words tumbling out like venom. “They were supposed to meet me at Madam Puddifoot's… an hour ago. And they didn’t come. Not even a bloody owl. Nothing.”

Lily’s face hardened, and Mary’s mouth opened in shock.

“They… they stood you up?” Mary asked, her voice soft, as if she couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, your throat tightening as the tears threatened to fall again. “I waited, and I waited, and they never came. I… I thought they cared, you know? But maybe I’m just—maybe I’m just not important enough for them.” The last part came out in a broken whisper.

Lily pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “No. No, don’t you dare think that. They’re idiots, all of them. Complete and utter prats.”

“But I’m always the last thought, Lily,” you sobbed, the hurt spilling out. “They’ve been so distant lately. Like… like I’m not even part of the group anymore. Like they’re fine with just each other and I’m… I’m just in the way.”

Mary knelt beside you, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You deserve better than this. So much better.”

“I thought they were different,” you said bitterly, “I didn’t expect this from them. Not from them. But… I guess I was wrong.”

The room was quiet for a moment, only the sound of your broken breaths filling the space. Lily and Mary exchanged a look, one that told you they were just as furious as they were heartbroken for you.

You had come to them with your broken heart, and now, you didn’t know what to do with the pieces. All you knew was that in this moment, you wanted nothing to do with the Marauders. You wanted to scream, cry, and hate them with everything you had.

And maybe—just maybe—you could learn how to forget them too.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk it happens - pt 5

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: pregnancy words: 1.5 k

summary: lando and reader are in a relationship and tell max that they’ll expect twins and break little penelope’s heart by doing so

Y/N and Lando have been sitting in the tiny café for half an hour already and still haven’t talked a lot. They ordered their drinks and that was it. 

Twins…

Lando opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but closed it again before the words could come out. 

Y/N started laughing. He looked like a fish, opening and closing his mouth again and again. The Brit looked right back at her, looking confused. 

“Now please say what you’ve been debating to say for what feels like years”, Y/N told him, stopping to laugh almost immediately. 

“Twins”, the racing driver simply said. 

“Yeah. Twins. Two little babies.” Y/N hesitated before continuing. “Do… do you still want to be there? For me? The babies? I don’t want to live with someone who doesn’t want to be part of our lives. Even if it was the person I loved. I need someone who wants to be there for all of it. Not just the good parts.” 

Lando was shaking his head hard. 

“Stop. I do want to be there. Yes. Two babies is… a lot. But that doesn’t change anything. They are mine as well as they are yours and I want to raise them with the woman I love. You. It may be hard but we’ll manage”, Lando said, reaching for Y/N’s hands and squeezing it reassuringly. 

Y/N nodded while squeezing the driver’s hand back, grounding herself more than him. 

“And with racing? Two babies are a lot of work and you travel at least half the year. How do you think you’ll manage that?”

Lando didn’t even hesitate as he said: “If it becomes a problem, I’ll stop racing. At least until they are older and you’ll be able to travel with me. In case you want that, of course.”

“Ok. You promise you’ll do that if needed? Don’t let this be an empty promise. Please.”

”I won’t”, he promised. And Y/N believed him.

***

Back at home Y/N went straight to her bedroom where she got dressed in her favorite fluffy sweatpants and hoodie. She looked in the mirror, staring at her belly that she swore was already slightly bigger, but that might also be from the cake she just ate. 

Lando, who came with her, walked into the room and looked at her with those ridiculous heart eyes. 

“There’s my pretty girlfriend”, he said as he came closer to her to be able to wrap his arms around Y/N’s waist. “You happy?”

Y/N turned around in his arms to hug him back while tilting her head to grin up at him.

”Very. You?”

”Same”, he answered, leaning down to press a kiss on his girlfriend’s lips. 

”Oh. By the way, I invited Max and Kelly. P and Lily will also come. You’ll help cooking”, Y/N commanded as she grabbed Lando’s hand to pull him to the kitchen. 

“Max? Cooking? ME? Y/N. The last time I cooked, I managed to burn noodles”, Lando playfully whined. 

“I’ll teach you. Do you need an apron? That pullover looks like it cost a thousand dollars.”

Lando looked down at what he was wearing.

”It wasn’t that expensive…”, he said pouting. “But yeah, an apron would be smart, I guess.”

Y/N grabbed it from the shelf before handing it to her boyfriend. 

“Now you have that whole domestic boyfriend kinda vibe”, Y/N said smiling, pretending to be joking, but honestly, it wasn’t really a bad sight. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. 

“I do?”, Lando asked happily, smiling like a little boy. That special Lando-smile. The smile she loved the most. 

“You do. Now help me cooking. You can just put the fries and chicken nuggets for P in the oven. I’ll make the rice with veggies and chicken for us adults”, Y/N told Lando who started pouting immediately. 

“Just for P? But what if I want nuggets and fries as well?”

”Lando. My dear Lando. You are a 25 year old man. Who is on a diet because he is a race car driver. I have doubts that the person that is responsible for your nutrition would agree with nuggets and fries. Neither would be Max’. Or our babies if I ate that. We need nutrients.”

Lando’s face softened immediately as Y/N mentioned the babies. 

“Ok… then make us that healthy food. Let’s have rice with veggies and chicken.”

“Perfect. Now make P’s food. Oh. And be kind when you tell her that you made Auntie Y/N pregnant. She might be heartbroken.”

Lando looked shocked.

”P? NO! I cannot tell her that please you do that I can’t break her heart! She is too cute! I just… I just can’t.”

Y/N laughed.

”You can and you absolutely will”, Y/N said, still giggling to herself and slapping Lando on his ass. His ridiculously pretty and well-formed ass. 

***

Only an hour later, the doorbell rang. Y/N opened the door to have P run straight into her arms.  

“Auntie Y/N! Look! I painted something for you”, the girl said as she held up a drawing of stick-figure-Y/N next to what seemed like stick-figure-Penelope. 

“Wow! This is so pretty, P! Thank you so much. Are you hungry already? Lando made fries for you with chicken nuggets. Sounds good?” 

P blushed at the mention of Lando. 

“Lando made my food?”, she giggled. 

“Yes, just for you. And he didn’t even burn it” Y/N answered, smiling. She stepped to the side to let Max and Kelly, who had Baby Lily in her arms. 

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing?”, Kelly asked as she stepped into the hallway. 

“I feel like I should be the one asking you”, Y/N said with a concerned look on her face as she realized how tired Kelly looked. 

“I am good. Just the usual newborn struggles. Lily didn’t sleep well last night”, the older woman sighed. “It’s ok though. We manage. Max helps a lot but yeah. Last night was a lot.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just stepped forward to pull Kelly in a hug, being careful that she didn’t wake Lily who seemed to be dozing in her mom’s arms. 

“Come on. Let’s eat something. Maybe you’ll feel better afterwards. And you also don’t have to stay for long. If you need it I could also take care of P sometime next week for a night or so and we make a little girl day together so you can rest a little, ok?” 

“Can I marry you?”, was the only thing Kelly responded while finally laughing even if only a little. 

“I think Max wouldn’t be ok with that, sorry. But I’ll gladly become P’s babysitter every once in a while when you need a break.”

Y/N put an arm around Kelly’s shoulder while leading her to the kitchen where Lando has already prepared the plates. Everything was on the table. Even wine for him and Max and mocktails for Kelly, Y/N and Penelope who was already yapping to Lando about everything that happened that day.

After they all had eaten their food, Y/N cleared her throat. 

“So… uh… we have a small announcement to make. Lando and I are now officially a couple and the baby is actually two babies.”

Y/N grinned while showing Max and Kelly a thumbs up who just looked surprised. Max was the first one to talk.

“I mean… I am not surprised that you are now a couple because that’s kinda obvious”, Max looked at Y/N and Lando’s entwined hands, “but… what do you mean, two babies…?”

”Two babies as in I will have the belly Kelly had in ninth month by month six. As in, I have the pleasure to push two babies out of me. As in two babies in my belly. That’s also known as having twins, actually.”

Max just looked shocked while Kelly grinned and got up to hug Y/N tightly. 

“This is great! I am so happy for you! You’ll have two little babies! That’s so cool!”, the woman said while still smiling. “Congratulations to you two.”

Finally, Max got up as well and went to hug his little sister. 

“Can’t believe my baby sister is really a grown up now. Congrats, little one. You’ll be an amazing mom to these two troublemakers”, Max whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to her hair. “Just make sure they won’t become racing drivers and beat my records some day.”

”Promise. They won’t even see a kart. I’ll make sure of that. I can’t live with having to worry not just about my brother and boyfriend but also my babies.”

Max squeezed Y/N one more time before letting go and walking over to Lando to hug him and congratulate him as well. 

“Make sure she has a comfy pregnancy, yes?”, he told Lando who nodded.

”That’s the plan”, the British driver said while only having eyes for his girlfriend who looked happier than ever.

Suddenly they heard another small voice from behind them.

”Does that mean Lando can’t marry me when I am older?”

a/n: i am so extremely sorry for not posting that long but i was so busy with studying and i soon have my finals so please wait until july, then you’ll get more fics again! anyway, i hope you like this fanfic, if you spot any mistakes just tell me!

(yes i know the timeline sucks bc baby lily is born in this fic but let’s just ignore it 🤫)

tags: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicqlivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 / @anayaverse / @htpssgavi / @dessashippr / @f1allymgp / @nickie-amore 

[gloomglimmer]

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑-𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  …  (  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬  )  set  the  scene  with  these modern &  evocative  prompts  inspired  by  florals  &  their  hidden  meanings. themes:  city living, devotion,  sacrifice,  healing  &  protection.   

⁽   *   ⁾    𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊   →   sentence  starters

“I  will  always  find  you,  no  matter  how  lost  you  feel.”

“Let  me  take  your  pain—if  I  could  bear  it  for  you,  I  would.”

“You  don’t  have  to  stand  alone—I’ll  always  be  here  to  catch  you.”

“Your  scars  do  not  make  you  less  worthy  of  love.”

“Rest  now.  I’ll  be  here  when  you  wake.”

“I  will  stand  between  you  and  the  storm.”

“Tell  me  your  story—I  want  to  know  every  part  of  you.”

“Run.  I’ll  hold  them  back.”

“Let  me  hold  you  until  the  nightmares  fade.”

"If  they  want  you,  they’ll  have  to  go  through  me  first.”

“I  will  always  be  your  light,  even  in  the  darkest  moments.”

“Come  back  to  me.  I’ll  wait  as  long  as  it  takes.”

“I  won’t  let  them  take  you—I’d  give  anything  to  keep  you  safe.”

⁽   *   ⁾    𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐄   →   scene  prompts

LAVENDER  →  A  small,  cozy  apartment  in  the  heart  of  a  busy  city.

CHERRY  BLOSSOM  →  A  rooftop  bar  with  twinkling  fairy  lights.

RED  ROSE  →  A  luxury  penthouse  suite.

SUNFLOWER  →  A  sunflower  farm  just  outside  of  town.

RUE  →  A  quiet,  almost  abandoned  street  in  the  heart  of  the  city.

FORGET-ME-NOT  →  A  run-down  but  charming  vintage  record  store  tucked  between  newer  shops

BLACK  VELVET  PETUNIA  →  A  chic,  underground  jazz  club  in  a  city’s  artsy  district.

MARIGOLD  →  A  farmers’  market  on  a  busy  weekend  morning.

MOONFLOWER  →  A  secluded,  trendy  rooftop  lounge  overlooking  a  sprawling  cityscape  at  night.

POPPY  →  An  abandoned  warehouse  on  the  outskirts  of  town.

MANDRAKE  →  A  small,  independent  cafe  nestled  on  a  quiet  street.

LILY  →  A  serene,  minimalist  art  gallery  with  bright  white  walls.

CARNATION  →  A  high-end  florist  shop  with  glass  vases  of  colorful  blooms.

PEONY  →  A  luxury  spa  retreat  by  the  beach.

ORCHID  →  A  rooftop  garden  in  a  sleek  modern  building.

DAFFODIL  →  A  trendy  brunch  spot  by  the  lake.

TULIP  →  A  chic  urban  loft  filled  with  large  windows  and  tulip  arrangements.

CAMELLIA  →  A  sleek  art  deco  hotel  lobby.

JASMINE  →  A  night-lit  garden  terrace  attached  to  a  modern  apartment.

SNAPDRAGON  →  A  secret  garden  tucked  behind  an  old  café  in  the  city.

LOTUS  →  A  chic  yoga  studio  with  floor-to-ceiling  windows  overlooking  a  busy street.

AZALEA  →  A  late-night  food  truck  park.

[norrisjpg]

only angel - ʟɴ⁴

the one where she begins to realise that this little 'arrangement' may be leading to something more than an intimate friendship.

part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten

contains; fluff, softdom!lando, nsfw, smut; fingering, oral (f & m), praise kink; inexperienced!femoc, talks of loss of virginity, swearing.

…

…

“oh my god, can you just tell me what’s going on already?” alexandra pried as the two girls sat in a small coffee shop in monaco.

lily simply sighed in response, not sure whether to tell her or not — on one hand, she was sure alex would be delighted that she was finally getting laid, and that it was by lando. on the other hand, she wasn’t sure if the italian would be skeptical and not really approve of sex with no feelings, with the guy lily had feelings for.

but well, fuck it.

“lando is… helping me gain some experience.” lily nodded. “sexual experience.”

alexandra might as well have spat her coffee out and launched her cup across the café, because it just went everywhere — across the table, on the floor, on the wall.

ignoring the spilled coffee, alex gawked at her, eyes wide and mouth open.

“oh my god.” she replied. “tell me everything, now! wait actually let me go and get some napkins and a new coffee.”

in all honesty, there wasn’t really much to tell on the sexual side — she’d given him a hand job, and he’d fingered her — that was all.

if anything, there was more to tell on how needy and affectionate lando had turned within the past week. pushing her against the counter and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe, the praising in innocent situations (and the not-so-innocent ones), and especially the times where she’d walk past him and be pulled onto his lap and spread open to his liking.

but, she was desperate to get her mouth on him — she’d seen how needy he was with just her hand, and that alone made her ready to take him deep down her throat.

“don’t be so ridiculous!” lily laughed softly as alexandra almost wasted her new coffee down on the table.

“he likes you, lily!” alexandra exclaimed, hitting the table. “no man would do that unless he has feelings for you! trust me, charlie does that shit and i’ve got him wrapped around my finger.”

she sighed in response, alexandra couldn’t be right, right?

-

she wasn’t exactly sure how she’d managed to get here. sure, lando had been insatiable for the last few days, but this? this was new.

as soon as her apartment door had shut behind her, there were hurried footsteps coming in her direction. she’d only just managed to get her shoes off when a pair of strong hands were wrapped around her waist and she was swept off of her feet, and thrown over his shoulder with a yelp from her lips.

“have a nice time, pretty girl?” lando asked softly as he carried lily to his bedroom.

“lando, put me down!” lily protested, kicking her legs.

“answer me, darling.” he repeated.

“yeah, i had a nice time, now put me down!” lily answered, before being thrown down onto the bed. “thankyou.”

lando laughed and shook his head as he crawled on top of her, peppering kisses all over her face. soft giggles left her lips and she pulled his face directly to hers, pressing their lips together.

a minute or so later, she was completely naked, clothes strewn across the floor, with his hips rutting against her as they made out.

“let me taste you, yeah?” he mumbled into her lips, and her eyes shot open.

lando could sense her hesitance, so he pulled away and gazed down at her, wondering what the unsureness was about.

“what’s the matter, lil?” lando asked softly, blinking down at her.

“that’s not good for you though.” lily murmured, furrowing her eyebrows.

“wanna make you feel good, baby.” he nodded, tracing his finger over her jaw. “please?”

“what if it tastes bad?” she admitted quietly, a hint of insecurity to her voice.

“lily,” lando began. “don’t be so ridiculous, i see what you eat — you eat healthy, correct?”

“yeah…” she nodded slowly.

“then you won’t taste bad, i promise.” he reassured her. “and you can tell me to stop at any point, mhm?”

“okay, yeah.” she whispered softly. “mhm.”

he smiled at her, a little proud of the fact he’d managed to win her insecure side over, and pecked her lips fondly with a murmured, “that’s my girl.”

my girl. my girl.

oh, how she wanted to be his so badly. to have, to hold, to cherish, in sickness and in health — she was so in love with him it was actually outrageous.

and, she was so distracted by her feelings and thoughts, that when his tongue brushed across her slit she gasped.

he ran the tip of his thumb through her folds, collecting her wetness before sliding it into his mouth, his eyes practically rolling back into his head when the delicious liquid spread onto his tongue.

lando would admit, the next part was a result of his control snapping and desire taking over.

he delved in, thrusting a finger inside of her and pumping it in and out, while circling her clit with his tongue. she cried out, grabbing at his head and clamping her thighs around his head — but he didn’t mind.

“lando…!” lily moaned, gasping out as he fucked her tight walls with his finger.

soon enough, his lips were wrapped snugly around her clit, sucking rhythmically, and he was desperate to fit a second finger inside of her tight heat.

“fuck…” he groaned into her pussy, the vibrations making her clench around him.

he was merciless, sucking and licking and kissing her clit, while finally slipping his middle finger inside. her back arched up, quickly slammed back down into the bed by a large hand splayed across her abdomen.

carnal whimpers and needy whines left her lips, chanting his name like a prayer as she barrelled toward release.

“fuck— lando… ohmy— yes!” she almost screamed, tears threatening to well up in her eyes from the pleasure. “gonna cum—”

he knew she was so gone when incoherent babbles left her lips, she was a pathetic mess, pleading and writhing underneath the motions of his tongue.

oh how he wanted to break completely, bury his cock to the hilt inside her cunt and stay there forever, let her sit on his lap, pretty and wet and desperate, and sink himself nice and deep — he’d fill her so perfectly, they’d be so perfect together, why couldn’t she see that?

he didn’t have any more time to think about it though, because she was tipping over the edge quickly.

tears left her eyes, her needy pussy clenching around his fingers as one final harsh suck of her clit sent her spiralling. her back arched up against the strength of his hand, and her toes curled as a shaky moan ripped her apart.

his thumb replaced his tongue on her clit, wanting to look at her as she fell apart up there. it was a sight for sore eyes to say the least — eyes rolled back into her head, eyebrows arched, lower lip caught between her teeth — she was fucking art, and he loved it.

in all honesty, he was sure he loved her — but he was just terrified.

terrified of it, terrified to say it, terrified of what it meant for them — so he kept his mouth shut.

-

lily knew she needed to get her own back, return the favour in a way. she’s decided that she’d surprise him when he’s least expect it, maybe when he was on stream with max — no cameras of course, one of the times where he only had his mic on.

“max wants to play tarkov,” lando began as he looked at his phone. “i’ll only be a few hours, love.”

“s’okay.” lily reassured him. “i’ll cook some dinner.”

“you’re the best.” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek, eliciting a giggle from her lips.

she left it for about an hour, deciding to let him get into the game. lily had lied, she had no intention of cooking dinner until she'd gotten what she wanted. so, in she went.

she slipped into the room quietly, noting the fact that his camera definitely wasn't on, but his mic was - and he was chatting away to max while they waited to play something called 'arena'. (she had no idea what that was.)

he was engrossed. it was quite a pretty sight actually, his eyelashes fluttering every time he blinked, gaze trained on the screen while he dryly laughed at some stupid comment max was making - he looked peaceful.

lando happened to flick his gaze to the side, feeling a presence near him, and almost jumped at the sight of the angel stood beside him. there was a look in her eyes, something dangerous, but the rest of her body language told him otherwise - innocent and delicate.

"you okay, pretty?" lando leaned away from the microphone, speaking quietly.

"mhm, carry on." she nodded softly, moving to stand in front of him and dropping to her knees.

lando lurched forward and muted his mic quickly, mumbling a needy 'fuck' as he silenced himself online. his eyes softly widened, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

"whatcha' doing?" lando asked quietly, his voice low and a little raspy.

"what does it look like?" she retorted softly, hands reaching for the ties of his joggers.

lando fell silent, mouth now slightly agape as lily tugged at his joggers, clearly wanting to pull them down. he made a small motion of a nod, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"good girl," he murmured, pushing his hips up so she could pull his joggers down.

her dainty fingertips hooked around the waistband of both his joggers and his boxers, pulling the thin materials off and letting them pool at his ankles.

if lando thought the handjob was good, he was in heaven now.

lily pressed a featherlight kiss to the tip of his now rock-hard cock, aching and throbbing under her simple touch. she stuck her tongue out and flattened it against the underside of his thick member, licking from the base to tip — before wrapping her pretty lips around the tip, now leaking salty pre-cum.

he shuddered as the warmth of her mouth enveloped the sensitive parts of his dick, a guttural groan leaving his lips.

it was like she’d done this millions of times, because the way her tongue swirled around the slit of his cock was heavenly. his head fell back against the headrest, adam’s apple bobbing along his thick throat as she teased the tip.

then without any warning, he was fully buried in her mouth, tip notching against the back of her throat as her hand came into the mix to help her out — it wasn’t like he was small after all.

a soft noise of a gag left her lips, but as soon as she started bobbing her head, all concern involuntarily left lando’s body.

“lils— fuuuck…” he groaned out, eyes squeezed shut.

he was floating, relishing in the way that she took him so expertly, swiping her tongue over the tip rhymically as he re-entered and exited her mouth.

lando was a mess, an incoherent and whining mess.

it was actually embarrassing how close he was already, hips bucking up toward her as his hands gripped the chair within an inch of his life.

tears streamed down lily’s face as she gagged around him again — and a normal person would have pulled off for breath, but no, not innocent little lily ainsley.

he’d of liked to think he’d pull her off, make her stop literally crying on his cock and finish the job with her hands — but then she moaned around him, the vibrations sending euphoric tingles through his very soul.

lando gently grabbed at her hair, palming it into a makeshift ponytail and softly pulled at it to keep it out of her way.

“ohmygod— lily, shit—” he panted out lowly. “gonna cum—”

it was the way that she looked up at him that killed him — teary and wide eyes, filled with a cocktail of innocence and subtle sin.

he came with a guttural groan, shaky breaths leaving his lips as hot ropes of sticky cum shot down her throat. he slowly began to soften as she sucked him through it — making sure there was no drop left untouched.

lily swallowed thickly, the taste in her mouth was surprisingly pleasant — her friends had told her that it was awful before, but i guess their boyfriends weren’t formula 1 drivers, right?

“you are fucking incredible,” lando huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his body fizzed down.

“thankyou baby,” she replied softly, pulling his boxers and joggers back up, and neatly tucking his cock back inside.

the girl stood up, licking her lips before pressing a quick peck to his lips.

“better get back to your stream,” lily whispered softly, referring to the chat asking where lando was. “dinner’ll be ready in an hour.”

“so cruel,” he laughed softly, leaning up to kiss her again, before she padded out of the room.

how the fuck was he supposed to do anything now?

-

“carlos, look, if i tell you this, you are not to tell a soul, understand?” lando said seriously, his fingers tapping the table nervously.

“yes, yes, i understand.” carlos nodded, “no one will know.”

the two drivers were sat in a fancy restaurant located at a golf club — after carlos had just absolutely destroyed lando’s golf-confidence on the green.

“okay, right…” lando sighed, before blurting out. “lily and i are fucking.”

“what.” the spaniard said bluntly, eyebrows raised and a blank expression in his eyes.

“so i found out that she’s a virgin, basically.” lando continued. “and then i offered to… help her out, like help her gain some experience with that stuff.”

“let me get this straight, yes?” carlos arched his eyebrow. “you’re having sex with the girl you’ve been in love with for… 5 years, and you still haven’t told her?”

lando sighed, he knew carlos wouldn’t approve of his avoidance of his feelings and new-found physical relationship.

“when you put it like that, i sound like an asshole!” lando exclaimed.

“look, all i’m going to say is, once you’ve… yeah, she’s not going to need that part of stuff anymore — and she’ll find a boyfriend that isn’t you, and then you’ll just have to do back to being friends again,” carlos explained. “and i don’t think you can do that, lando.”

the brit went to protest, but he was cut off.

carlos shook his head, “all i’m saying is, tell her sooner rather than later, otherwise this is going to hurt, lando.”

-

hello, sorry i disappeared, medical stuff and work and all. anyway, i’m on holiday this week, so fingers crossed should get a lot of writing done!!

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession

TW: stalking, home invasion, emotional manipulation, obsessive behavior, Simon in his stalker era

The first bouquet of lilies appeared on her doorstep two months ago, crisp and white, with no note attached. At first, she thought it was a mistake. Maybe a neighbor’s anniversary or a delivery error. She even asked around, but no one claimed them.

The second bouquet arrived the following Friday, just as pristine and silent.

By the fifth, unease began to settle in.

Then came the notes.

The handwriting was precise, the words simple: “You looked beautiful today.” “The world doesn’t deserve your kindness.” “I see you.”

She told yourself it was harmless, a misguided admirer, nothing more. But deep down, she knew better. Each note felt like a pair of eyes on her back, a shadow stretching too close.

Simon was the last person she suspected.

She didn’t know him well—no one did. He was a phantom, his face always hidden beneath that mask. She’d worked with him a handful of times, enough to catch glimpses of a sharp mind and a colder demeanor. He was a man of few words, fewer smiles, and no visible vulnerabilities.

Yet somehow, he had decided she were his.

It started subtly: a fleeting glance that lingered too long, his voice softening when he spoke her name. Then the coincidences—running into him during her evening walks, finding him already at the café she frequented. Always nearby, always watching.

She tried to ignore it, brushing off the unease with excuses. But tonight, all those excuses evaporated.

She woke to silence, the kind that presses down on her chest and suffocates. Something was wrong. Her apartment, usually filled with the ambient hum of life, felt still.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, scanning the room. The shadows were where they should be, the clutter untouched. Yet the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

And then she heard it: a faint creak of a floorboard, too deliberate to be a trick of the wind.

Her pulse surged as she reached under her pillow, fingers brushing against the knife she’d started keeping there. She slipped out of bed, her movements careful, her breathing shallow.

The hallway stretched before her, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the blinds. She followed the sound, each step a battle against the growing dread coiling in your stomach.

When she reached the living room, she froze.

Simon stood there, his skull mask catching the faint light. He was utterly still, a predator who had been waiting for his prey to notice him.

“Simon,” she breathed, the name heavy with disbelief and fear.

He turned slowly, his movements measured. His hands hung at his sides, empty, but his presence was suffocating.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he said, his voice low, almost regretful.

Her grip tightened on the knife. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

He took a step toward her, his head tilting as if she’d asked a question he didn’t quite understand. “Keeping you safe.”

“By breaking in?!” Her voice shook, anger and fear warring within you.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone soft. “You don’t see how exposed you are. How vulnerable. The world isn’t kind to people like you.”

Her stomach churned. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? The flowers, the notes—they were from you.”

Simon didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze boring into her. “Everything I’ve done was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” you spat. “You’re the one I need protecting from!”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, something flickered behind the mask—hurt, maybe. “I’d never hurt you,” he said firmly.

“Then leave.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost pleading. “You don’t understand, love. I see what’s out there. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t have someone looking out for them. You need me.”

“No, I don’t!” Her voice cracked, but the knife in her hand didn’t waver.

Simon’s gaze dropped to the blade, then back to her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer. She pressed herself against the wall, the cold seeping into her skin.

“You won’t use that,” he said. “You don’t need to. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin. “You will.”

The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. She didn’t know whether to scream, fight, or collapse under the realization that Simon wasn’t going anywhere.

part 2

---------------------------------------------

what do we think babess??

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[cloudyluun]

Serendipity & Stumbles

Summary: Based on this request. You never expected to keep bumping into Harry Styles, single dad and bookstore owner, but fate—and your kids—had other plans. From coffee shop disasters to rainy-night rescues, your lives keep tangling together, no matter how much you try to resist. But when two very determined little matchmakers step in, running might not be an option anymore.

Slow-burn, single-parent chaos, meddling kids, and Harry in full-on dad mode? Yeah, you’re in trouble.

A/N: I dragged this slow burn out on purpose. I made you suffer. And honestly? I’d do it again. Thanks for sticking around, even when you wanted to scream at them to just kiss already. This isn't proofread, sorryyy

Word Count: 8,4k

Warnings:

Single parent struggles (exhaustion, self-doubt, balancing work & motherhood)

Mentions of past unhealthy relationships (nothing graphic, but allusions to emotional difficulty & fear of attachment)

Slow-burn romance (painfully slow at times, because I like to make you suffer before the payoff 😌)

Lots of angst, mutual pining, and missed opportunities before they actually get their shit together

Fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth

Smut!!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you the moment you stepped inside the bookstore café, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder, guiding Lily toward an empty table near the window, where golden afternoon light streamed in.

She clutched her book to her chest, her small fingers curling around the edges of the worn cover like it was something precious. “Can I get a hot chocolate, Mummy?” she asked, peering up at you with wide eyes.

You smiled, smoothing down the flyaway curls at her temple. “Of course, love. Let’s get settled first, yeah?”

Balancing motherhood and work had turned you into an expert multitasker—or at least someone who tried very hard to be. You pulled out your laptop as Lily slid into the chair opposite you, already flipping through the pages of her book. The café was busy but cozy, the low hum of conversations blending with the clinking of mugs and the occasional flutter of a turned page.

This bookstore had quickly become your sanctuary—somewhere Lily could sink into stories while you answered emails or proofread articles. It was one of the few places where you could steal a moment of peace.

At least, until peace became a fleeting thing.

One second, Lily was happily stirring her hot chocolate, her lips moving as she silently read. The next, her elbow knocked against the cup, and the dark liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her dress.

She froze.

You saw the panic flicker across her face before the wobble in her lip began.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” you soothed, immediately reaching for the napkins. “We’ll clean it up.”

But her breath hitched, and her eyes grew glassy, the embarrassment of it all outweighing any comfort you could offer. You could see it coming—the slow build to a meltdown in the middle of a crowded café.

And then, a voice—warm, steady.

“Need some help?”

You looked up.

The man standing beside your table held out a stack of napkins, his green eyes bright with amusement but softened by something kinder. His dark curls were pushed back from his face, a few strands stubbornly falling forward. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, dressed in a sweater that hugged his frame just right, sleeves pushed up to reveal inked skin.

Lily sniffled, her tiny hands twisting in the fabric of her stained dress.

Harry Styles.

You knew of him, in the way that people who lived in the same neighborhood knew of each other. The bookstore café was his, after all. You’d seen him before, in passing—restocking shelves, chatting with customers, sometimes with a little boy by his side. But you’d never spoken beyond polite nods and murmured thank-yous.

You hesitated before taking the napkins, flashing a quick, grateful smile. “Thank you. She’s just—”

“Having a rough go of it,” he finished, nodding. “Understandable. Hot chocolate tragedies are serious business.”

Lily blinked up at him, her lip still wobbling but her sniffles slowing.

Harry crouched beside her, a small smile playing at his lips. “I’ve got a spare jumper in the back—belongs to my son. I can grab it for you, if you’d like.”

Lily glanced at you for reassurance. You squeezed her small hand before nodding. “That’s very kind of you.”

“No trouble at all,” he said before disappearing into the back of the shop.

Lily fidgeted in her chair, picking at the hem of her dress. “I didn’t mean to spill,” she murmured.

“I know, sweetheart,” you said softly. “It was just an accident.”

Before you could say more, Harry returned, holding out a navy-blue sweater. It was slightly oversized, well-loved, the sleeves a little worn at the cuffs.

“Here we go,” he said, handing it to Lily. “Theo—my son—outgrows things faster than I can keep up with, so we always have extras.”

Lily took it, her small fingers brushing against the soft fabric. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Harry smiled, standing back up to his full height. His eyes flicked to you, something unreadable in his gaze. “No need to give it back. Consider it a gift from one hot chocolate lover to another.”

A beat of quiet passed between you, something unspoken lingering in the air.

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Part of the job.”

Lily tugged the sweater over her dress, the sleeves hanging past her fingers. You expected her to protest, but instead, she let out a small giggle, wiggling her arms. “It’s soft.”

Harry grinned. “Glad you approve.”

You exhaled, finally allowing the tension in your shoulders to ease. “Well, thank you again. We really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving a small nod before turning back toward the counter.

You watched him go, your fingers absently tapping against your coffee cup.

You weren’t sure why, but something about the moment stuck with you longer than it should have.

Maybe it was the ease of it, the way Harry had stepped in without hesitation, like it was second nature for him to help. Maybe it was the way he spoke to Lily—not as if she were just a child, but like her feelings mattered. Or maybe it was the simple fact that for the first time in a long while, someone had made your chaotic day feel just a little bit lighter.

You thought about it again a few days later as you sat on a bench at the park, the cool afternoon air crisp against your skin. Lily was somewhere nearby, her laughter carrying on the breeze, but your eyes were glued to the screen of your laptop, fingers tapping against the keyboard as you proofread an article on deadline.

“Just five more minutes, baby,” you murmured absently, knowing she probably wasn’t even listening.

It was one of those afternoons where time felt both endless and fleeting. The playground was buzzing with energy—kids climbing, running, the occasional squeal of excitement cutting through the air. You weren’t really paying attention, though, too caught up in work, too focused on making sure the words in front of you made sense.

A few benches away, Harry was doing much of the same.

Phone in hand, he paced a few steps back and forth, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the mobile to his ear. His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in that concentrated way people had when they were trying to remain patient on a frustrating call.

Neither of you noticed at first.

Neither of you saw them.

Lily and Theo.

Two tiny forces of nature, colliding without you even realizing it.

It wasn’t until a burst of laughter pulled your focus that you finally looked up.

Your gaze landed on Lily first, standing in the middle of the grass, her hands on her hips, head tilted back in giggles. Across from her, a little boy—a year or so older, dark curls peeking out from beneath a beanie—was laughing just as hard.

They were playing together.

You blinked, momentarily thrown, scanning the area for whoever the child belonged to.

Harry’s voice was still a low murmur as he spoke into the phone, but his eyes had landed on the same scene. His expression softened instantly, the stress from his call momentarily forgotten.

Theo.

You recognized the sweater immediately—the sweater. The same one Harry had given Lily after the hot chocolate incident. It was still too big on her, the sleeves hanging past her fingers, but that wasn’t stopping her from flapping her arms dramatically while Theo doubled over laughing.

It was oddly fascinating, watching them.

Lily, typically so shy around new kids, was standing toe-to-toe with Theo, chattering animatedly, completely unbothered by the fact that they’d only just met. Theo, for his part, looked just as amused, his eyes bright with mischief, like he’d already decided they were going to be best friends.

Your lips twitched into an involuntary smile.

It was… sweet.

Something in your periphery shifted, and you realized Harry was looking at you now.

There was a moment—an unspoken, quiet kind of moment—where neither of you said anything. Just sat there, watching your kids become friends without effort, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Harry’s phone was still at his ear, but whatever conversation he was having was clearly secondary now. He shook his head slightly, amused, before rubbing a hand along his jaw, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Without thinking, you spoke.

“Well, this is convenient.”

Harry huffed a laugh, finally ending his call before slipping the phone into his pocket. “Guess they’re making the decisions for us now.”

You nodded toward them. “I take it Theo is the mastermind behind this plan?”

He smirked. “Oh, definitely. He’s got a talent for roping people into whatever ridiculous scheme he’s come up with.”

Lily’s laughter rang out again as Theo dramatically flopped onto the grass, pretending to faint over something she’d said.

You shook your head fondly. “I think Lily might have just met her match.”

“Looks that way,” Harry agreed, leaning back against the bench, his posture relaxed but his gaze still lingering on his son.

You let the silence stretch between you, comfortable in a way you didn’t expect.

It was a strange thing, this… whatever this was.

Before the café, Harry had been nothing more than a familiar face. A neighbor, a bookstore owner, someone you exchanged brief smiles with but never really knew.

Now, though—now, he was sitting next to you, watching your kids become fast friends, and somehow it didn’t feel like a coincidence at all.

Just as you were about to say something else, Lily ran up to you, breathless and grinning. “Mummy! Theo says he has a dog!”

Harry chuckled, clearly predicting where this was going.

“Not just a dog,” Theo corrected, running up beside her. “A really big dog.”

Lily’s eyes went wide. “Can I meet him?”

Harry shot you a look, brows raised in amusement. “You alright with that?”

You hesitated, caught between the natural urge to say no to anything spontaneous—and the realization that, maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to say yes.

After all… maybe there were worse things than a little serendipity.

That thought lingered in your mind long after the park playdate, long after Lily had chattered endlessly about Theo’s “really big dog” and how she was convinced they needed one just like him.

It was still there a week later, tugging at the edges of your thoughts as you walked into the parents' meeting at Lily’s school.

You weren’t particularly looking forward to it—these things were always a mix of too much small talk and too many emails you’d later forget to reply to—but you showed up, because that’s what you did. You juggled deadlines and grocery lists and bedtime routines, and you showed up.

Sliding into one of the chairs near the back of the classroom, you pulled out your notebook, half-listening as the teacher welcomed everyone and started discussing upcoming class activities. The words blurred a little, your mind already jumping to your to-do list for the rest of the day—until a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation beside you.

“Didn’t peg you for the back-row type.”

Your head turned sharply.

Harry.

Seated next to you, clad in a well-fitted jacket over a soft-looking jumper, casually sprawled in his chair like he wasn’t completely throwing off your focus. His green eyes flickered with amusement as he drummed his fingers lightly against the desk.

You blinked, momentarily thrown. “I—what?”

His lips twitched. “Back row. Feels like the kind of seat you pick if you’re planning to sneak out early.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Right, because I’m clearly a rebel parent.”

Harry smirked, but before he could respond, the teacher started explaining the logistics of an upcoming field trip, and the room quieted.

You tried to focus—you really did—but awareness prickled at you, your body attuned to the fact that Harry was right next to you.

It didn’t help that every now and then, you’d catch him glancing your way when the teacher said something mildly ridiculous, his expression just amused enough to make it harder to keep a straight face.

Or that when the topic of chaperones came up, Theo’s name was read out right before Lily’s, the realization settling between you with an unspoken of course they’re in the same class.

And maybe—just maybe—you didn’t miss the way Harry muttered a quiet figures under his breath, a slight shake of his head that made you bite back a smile.

By the time the meeting wrapped up, the teacher dismissing everyone with a reminder to sign up for volunteer slots, you were already gathering your things, ready to slip out—when Harry turned to you.

“Fancy a coffee?”

You froze for half a second.

It was a simple question. Harmless. A casual offer between two parents who, apparently, kept running into each other.

But something about the way he said it—the way his voice dipped just slightly, the way his eyes stayed steady on yours—made it feel less casual.

You hesitated.

And Harry, ever perceptive, caught it immediately. His posture shifted, something careful settling into his expression, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to push or back off.

“I mean,” he added, lightening his tone, “it’s just down the road. No pressure. Could be a good excuse to talk about how we’ve accidentally ended up with kids who seem hell-bent on becoming best friends.”

You swallowed, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter.

It was tempting. So tempting.

And maybe, once upon a time, you wouldn’t have thought twice about saying yes.

But you weren’t that person anymore. You’d learned to be cautious. To tread carefully when it came to things that had the potential to turn into more than just casual conversation.

And Harry—whether he realized it or not—felt like exactly that kind of thing.

So you smiled, polite but firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I should really get back to work.”

Harry didn’t miss a beat. Didn’t let disappointment show, though something unreadable flickered in his gaze before he nodded, easy and unbothered. “Fair enough. Another time, maybe.”

You hummed, noncommittal.

But as you turned to leave, your heart did this stupid, traitorous thing—this little lurch in your chest—because something in you already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time.

And, of course, you were right.

Because one week later, you were standing on the pavement, clutching Lily’s small hand, rain drenching through your coat as you tried—and failed—not to look as exhausted as you felt.

It had been a long day.

A really long day.

Your babysitter had canceled last minute, leaving you with no choice but to bring Lily along to your late-afternoon client meeting. She’d been good—so good—sitting quietly at the café table, coloring in the pages of her book while you discussed article revisions and deadline extensions. But by the time you stepped out into the dimly lit street, the sky had split open, rain coming down in relentless sheets, and you were both soaked before you even had the chance to open your umbrella.

You exhaled, pressing your palm against your forehead as you attempted to flag down a taxi. No luck.

“Mummy,” Lily whined, shivering beside you. “I’m cold.”

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby. I’m trying—”

A honk cut through the downpour.

You turned toward the sound just as a familiar black Range Rover slowed beside you, the driver’s window rolling down.

Harry.

His curls were a little messy, his face dimly lit by the dashboard lights, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he leaned slightly toward the open window. His brows knitted together the second he took you in.

“Are you seriously walking home in this?”

You blinked against the rain. “I don’t exactly have a choice, Harry.”

He scoffed, already reaching for the unlock button. “Get in.”

You hesitated.

Not because you didn’t want to—you were cold and exhausted, and Lily was on the verge of full-body shivers—but because the last thing you needed was to owe someone anything. To let someone in, even if only for a car ride home.

Harry must have noticed the reluctance on your face because his tone softened. “Come on. No agenda. Just two parents helping each other out.”

Before you could argue, the back door swung open.

“Mummy! Theo’s in here!” Lily’s delighted voice rang out, already scrambling into the seat beside him.

You turned sharply—traitor!—but Lily was grinning, the excitement of seeing her new best friend completely overriding any of your hesitation.

You sighed, defeated. “Guess we’re getting in the car.”

Harry smirked. “Guess you are.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car immediately soothing your frozen limbs. Your coat dripped against the leather as you fastened your seatbelt, and when Harry reached into the back and wordlessly handed you a hoodie—probably Theo’s again—you swallowed past the tightness in your throat before accepting it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He shifted the car into drive, glancing in the rearview mirror where the kids were already chatting excitedly. “Where to?”

You gave him your address, and he repeated it under his breath like he was committing it to memory.

The hum of the car filled the space between you for a moment, the rain drumming against the windshield. You were suddenly aware of how quiet it was in the front seat—how the easy banter you’d shared before wasn’t there now, replaced by something heavier.

“Long day?” Harry finally asked, his voice softer than before.

You exhaled. “You could say that.”

“I get it,” he murmured. “Some days just feel impossible.”

You turned to look at him, but his eyes stayed on the road, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

It would have been easy to nod and leave it at that.

But something about the way he said it—like he really did get it—made the words slip out before you could stop them.

“My babysitter bailed last minute,” you admitted. “Had to bring Lily to work with me. I know she didn’t mind, but it’s just… a lot, sometimes.”

Harry’s fingers tapped lightly against the wheel. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“It’s just you and Lily, then?”

You hesitated. Not because it was a secret, but because it was one of those questions that carried weight, even if it was asked casually.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Just us.”

Another pause. Then, quietly—

“Same. Just me and Theo.”

You glanced at him.

There was something different in his voice now, something laced with memory, something personal.

“What happened?” you asked gently.

He inhaled, long and slow. When he spoke, his voice was even, but you could hear the emotion beneath it.

“My wife—Theo’s mum—passed away a few years ago.”

Your chest tightened. “Harry, I—”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “It was… unexpected. One day we were planning holidays, the next, I was trying to figure out how to be a single dad.”

Your fingers curled into the sleeves of the hoodie.

You weren’t sure why, but something about hearing him say it—acknowledging it so openly, without dramatics, without self-pity—hit you harder than you expected.

“I left,” you admitted softly.

Harry turned, brow furrowing. “Left?”

You swallowed. “Lily’s dad. I left him.”

Understanding flickered in his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just waited.

You let out a slow breath, focusing on the rain streaking against the glass. “It wasn’t… good. I knew if I stayed, it would only get worse. So I left.” A pause. “For her. For Lily.”

Harry didn’t ask for details. Didn’t push.

He just nodded, like that was enough. Like he understood more than he was saying.

The air in the car was heavier now, but not uncomfortable. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t awkward sympathy. It was just two people, two parents, who had both lost something. Who were still finding their way forward.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, fingers hovering over the door handle.

“Thank you,” you said, meaning it more than you expected.

Harry met your gaze, something steady and unreadable in his expression. “Anytime.”

And as you climbed out, leading Lily inside, you realized that maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the last time, either.

And again, you were right.

Because the universe—or fate, or whatever force kept weaving Harry into your life—wasn’t quite done with you yet.

It started as a normal evening. A school event—one of those midwinter, PTA-sponsored gatherings where the kids were running on pure sugar-fueled excitement, and the parents were running on nothing but caffeine and obligation.

You had barely stepped inside the decorated gymnasium when Lily had spotted Theo, the two of them taking off toward the craft station without so much as a backward glance.

“Yeah, sure, don’t say goodbye,” you muttered, exhaling as you peeled off your coat and shoved your gloves into your bag.

“You get used to it.”

Your stomach dipped at the sound of his voice.

You turned to find Harry standing beside you, shaking snow out of his curls, his jacket dusted with white. He looked unfairly good for someone who had just come in from the cold—cheeks flushed, green eyes bright with amusement as he nodded toward the kids.

“First time they ditch you, it stings,” he continued, smirking. “By the hundredth time, you stop taking it personally.”

You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Good to know.”

For a while, the event played out exactly as expected—parents milling around making polite small talk, kids crafting messy holiday decorations that would inevitably end up forgotten at the bottom of their backpacks.

You kept an eye on Lily, but she and Theo were perfectly entertained, alternating between cookie decorating and attempting to build a fort out of the chairs in the corner of the room.

And then, just as you were considering sneaking off to the refreshment table for a refill on your coffee, the first announcement crackled through the speaker system.

A snowstorm.

A bad one.

Roads already piling up, traffic at a standstill. Everyone advised to stay put until further notice.

A slow, collective groan moved through the crowd.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your fingers over your temples.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Beside you, Harry let out a low whistle. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “You sound entirely too relaxed about this.”

He smirked. “Because I’ve accepted my fate.” He nodded toward Theo and Lily, who were thriving in the chaos, currently attempting to organize some kind of group game. “They, on the other hand, are living their best lives.”

You sighed, watching as Lily excitedly gestured for Theo to follow her to the makeshift play area.

“Traitor,” you muttered under your breath.

Harry chuckled. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward an empty classroom that had been opened up as an extra seating area. “Might as well find somewhere to sit before we’re reduced to standing in the hallway.”

You followed him, grateful for the momentary escape from the crowded gym.

The classroom was small, with a handful of desks pushed against the walls. Harry dropped into one of the chairs, stretching his legs out in front of him, while you settled into the seat beside him, cradling your coffee cup between your palms.

For a moment, there was nothing but the muffled sound of voices from the hallway, the occasional scrape of a chair from another room.

And then—

“So,” Harry mused, glancing sideways at you. “On a scale from mild to intervention-level dependency, how bad is your caffeine addiction?”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

He nodded toward your cup, smirking. “That’s, what, your third coffee tonight?”

You scoffed. “Second, actually. And I’ll have you know that my caffeine intake is perfectly normal.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I bet you have a thing too, don’t you?”

His brows raised. “A thing?”

“Yes. Some habit or vice you’re embarrassingly reliant on.” You smirked. “Let me guess—you’re a late-night snacker.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Not even close.”

You tapped your chin, pretending to consider. “Okay. Chronic over-user of pet names?”

His lips twitched. “I mean, love, I do have a tendency—”

You groaned. “Oh, that checks out.”

Harry grinned, his dimples deepening. “You got me.”

For a moment, the conversation settled into something easy, the banter light, playful. And you—despite the exhaustion, despite the long night ahead—felt…

Good.

Harry shifted slightly, watching you. “You’re smiling.”

Your brows furrowed. “I am?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “It’s nice.”

And that—that small, simple sentence—made something tighten in your chest.

Because Harry wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t teasing.

He was just… noticing.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen.

You cleared your throat, looking away, focusing on the rim of your cup. “Don’t get used to it.”

Harry chuckled, but didn’t press.

You sat there for a little while longer, the room quieter than the ones beyond it, but filled with something else.

Something unspoken.

Something that felt an awful lot like anticipation.

That’s what had been simmering under the surface ever since that snowed-in night at the school.

You told yourself it was nothing—that it was just the circumstances, the way you’d both been forced into conversation, the way time had slowed just enough for you to forget that Harry Styles was not supposed to be part of your life in any meaningful way.

But then came Saturday.

And Saturday ruined everything.

It had been Lily’s idea to go to the bookstore café, but you didn’t exactly fight her on it.

You could pretend all you wanted, but the truth was, you liked it there. The smell of coffee, the cozy chairs tucked between shelves, the soft murmur of people flipping through books—it was one of the few places in the city where your brain actually slowed down for a moment.

So, you’d packed up your laptop, bundled Lily in her coat, and headed down the familiar street, telling yourself that Harry might not even be working today. That it wouldn’t mean anything if you ran into him.

And then you walked inside, and he was right there.

Behind the counter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, laughing at something one of his employees had said before turning at just the right moment—seeing you.

His eyes brightened. “Look who it is.”

Your stomach flipped. Stupid. Completely ridiculous.

“Hi, Harry.” You cleared your throat, pushing past the way his smile made your chest feel tight. “Busy today?”

“Not too bad.” He leaned against the counter. “Here for your fix?”

You scoffed, already setting your bag down on the edge. “I’ll have you know I went an entire day without coffee yesterday.”

Harry placed a hand over his heart, mock-surprised. “I don’t believe you.”

You rolled your eyes, but Lily was less focused on your caffeine consumption and more on the glass case filled with pastries.

Harry caught her staring, smirking. “Hungry, love?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got some fresh croissants that need a home.” He grabbed a plate and slid two onto it before adding, “On the house.”

You immediately shook your head. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said simply, then met your gaze. “Stay. Sit down for a bit.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t loaded with anything, wasn’t flirtatious or heavy.

It was just… easy.

So you stayed.

You found a table near the window, sipping your coffee while Lily and Theo—who had conveniently appeared out of nowhere—settled on the floor nearby with a pile of books between them.

And somehow, Harry ended up in the chair across from you.

It wasn’t intentional. At least, you told yourself it wasn’t.

It was just conversation—banter, sarcasm, Lily’s constant interruptions to tell you random facts about the book she was reading.

And then… it wasn’t.

Because at some point, the edges of the conversation softened.

At some point, you started talking about things that weren’t just surface-level.

At some point, he told you about the bookstore—how it had started as a risk, how he wasn’t sure if it would work, but he’d wanted Theo to have a place to grow up around stories.

And at some point, you found yourself telling him about your writing, about the way you’d stumbled into freelancing after leaving your old life behind, about how sometimes, you missed the structure of an office, but mostly, you liked this. The freedom. The control over your own world.

Harry had listened.

Really listened.

And then he’d said something—something about how he admired that, about how he could see how much you’d built for yourself.

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when you realized.

This feels like a date.

The realization hit like a punch to the ribs.

Because it wasn’t a date. It couldn’t be.

You weren’t dating. You weren’t even thinking about dating. That wasn’t part of your life anymore, wasn’t something you could afford to let yourself want.

And yet—

You were sitting across from a man who made you feel like maybe it was.

A man who made it easy. Who made you laugh, who made you forget to keep your guard up, who looked at you in a way that made you feel like more than just a tired mother balancing a thousand things at once.

And that—that—was terrifying.

So, before he could say anything else, before you could let yourself sit in the moment for even a second longer, you panicked.

You shot up from your chair so fast Harry’s brows furrowed.

“I should go,” you blurted, already reaching for your bag.

Harry blinked. “What?”

You forced a smile. “I just—Lily has a lot of homework, and I need to—”

Harry wasn’t stupid.

You could see the confusion in his expression, the way his body tensed just slightly, the way his fingers curled around his mug like he was trying to figure out where the shift had happened.

But he didn’t push.

He just nodded, slow and careful, like he was trying to let you run if you needed to.

Lily pouted as you grabbed her hand, but she didn’t argue.

Harry said goodbye to her, ruffled Theo’s hair, then glanced back at you just once before you pushed open the door and stepped out into the cold.

And as you walked away—your heart pounding, your hands trembling—you told yourself you’d done the right thing.

You told yourself that leaving was better.

That letting him get too close would only make things harder.

You told yourself all of that.

And yet—

It didn’t stop you from feeling like you’d just made a mistake.

In fact, it only made it worse.

The whole way home, Lily kept glancing up at you, brows furrowed in confusion, like she knew something had happened but couldn’t quite figure out what. And the next morning, when she asked if you were going back to the bookstore soon, you’d mumbled something noncommittal, changed the subject, and buried yourself in work.

For days, you convinced yourself you’d done the right thing. That putting space between you and Harry was necessary. That whatever this strange, unexpected thing was between you—it wasn’t real.

But while you were busy trying to ignore it, two small, scheming masterminds were doing the exact opposite.

“I think my dad likes your mum.”

Theo’s voice was quiet, but not that quiet.

Lily, crouched beside him under the slide at the park, frowned. “I know.”

Theo blinked. “You do?”

Lily gave him a look, as if obviously. “He always smiles when she’s around. And he looks at her like my teacher looks at her coffee.”

Theo squinted. “Like he needs her?”

“Exactly.”

Theo leaned back, lips pursed in thought. “Well, that’s a problem.”

Lily nodded gravely. “Because my mum likes your dad, too.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Lily huffed, crossing her arms. “But she’s scared.”

Theo considered this, chewing on his lip. Then, slowly, a smirk stretched across his face.

“Well, that just means we have to fix it.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Theo grinned. “Leave that to me.”

You should have known something was up when Lily had asked—too sweetly—if you wanted to take her to the park that weekend.

You should have been suspicious when she mentioned, offhandedly, that Theo had told her he and Harry were going to be there at the same time.

But you—naive, unsuspecting, and still drowning in your own avoidance—had just gone along with it.

Which was exactly how you ended up here.

Standing at the edge of the field, watching as Theo and Lily cackled like tiny villains, while Harry—completely unaware of their plot—ran around playing soccer with them.

And you?

You were helpless.

Because, despite everything, despite every wall you had thrown up, despite every reason you had to keep your distance—you couldn’t look away.

Harry looked happy.

Really, truly happy.

His dimples were deep, his laughter loud and unrestrained. His curls were a mess from the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes crinkling at the corners as he dodged Theo’s attempt to steal the ball.

And Lily?

She looked just as free.

She wasn’t shy, wasn’t hesitating—she was grinning, giggling so hard that she tripped, falling right into Harry’s arms as he caught her mid-stumble.

And that—that moment—was what did it.

Because when Harry steadied her, ruffling her hair before sending her off again, you felt something click.

Something shift.

And suddenly, the thought you had been pushing away for weeks broke through like a crack in the dam, relentless and impossible to ignore.

This could be something.

Something good. Something real. Something you weren’t sure you were ready for—but something you didn’t want to run from anymore.

Because, maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t just serendipity.

Maybe it was something that was supposed to happen all along.

That thought followed you home. It followed you through dinner, through Lily’s animated retelling of her very official soccer victory, through the quiet moments when she was curled up in bed, her breathing slow and even.

And it followed you long after that, settling in your chest, stubborn and impossible to ignore.

Because you knew what you had to do.

So, the next afternoon, after too much pacing and too much overthinking, you found yourself standing outside the bookstore café, heart hammering as you pushed open the door.

Harry was behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he scanned the inventory list in front of him. He looked focused, but the second he glanced up and saw you, something flickered across his face—something cautious.

You swallowed. Right. You did that.

Taking a breath, you stepped forward. “Can we talk?”

He set the clipboard down, wiping his hands on a cloth before nodding toward the back. “Come on.”

You followed him past the bookshelves, through a small hallway that led to a quieter seating area. It was dimly lit, quieter than the front of the shop, and suddenly, this felt very real.

Harry turned to you, arms crossed, waiting.

You exhaled. “I—I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “For running. For… whatever that was.” You sighed, rubbing your hands over your jeans. “I got scared.”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. A quiet understanding settling between you.

“I get it,” he said finally. “But I need to know where your head is at, Y/N.” His voice was even, steady. “Because I don’t do games. I don’t do halfway.”

You swallowed, throat tight.

“I know.”

He stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours. “So, what do you want?”

You hesitated, heart pounding.

But then, you thought about Lily—your Lily. Thought about how effortlessly she had let Theo in, how much brighter she had been since meeting him.

And then, you thought about yourself.

About the way Harry made you laugh. About the way he looked at you—like you weren’t just a mother, just a woman who had learned how to live cautiously, but someone he saw.

And suddenly, the answer wasn’t scary anymore.

“I want to try,” you whispered.

Harry’s shoulders relaxed. His jaw unclenched. And then, slowly, carefully, he stepped forward.

His fingers reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Yeah?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Yeah.”

His lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything.

He just leaned in.

The kiss was soft.

Lingering.

Like it was meant to happen.

And maybe…

Maybe it was.

Maybe it had always been leading to this. To a quiet evening, to wine and laughter and the slow, inevitable pull of something neither of you could ignore any longer.

You weren’t supposed to end up at Harry’s place that night. It had started with dinner—just a casual thing, an unspoken agreement that whatever was growing between you should have space to exist outside of fleeting moments and bookstore conversations.

The kids had been there, of course. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t something you had planned.

But it had felt easy.

Effortless, even.

Like the four of you were already slipping into place, like Theo rolling his eyes at Lily’s terrible knock-knock jokes was as natural as Harry stealing a bite of food off your plate, smirking when you swatted at him.

And then, somehow, it had stretched later than expected.

The kids had curled up on the couch, movie playing softly in the background, their laughter slowly fading into soft, steady breaths.

And then—

Then it was just you and Harry.

Alone.

A glass of wine, the fire crackling softly in the background.

Your legs tucked under you as you sat on the couch, warmth settling in your limbs—not just from the wine, but from this. From him.

Harry leaned back, fingers tapping against his glass. “So.”

You raised a brow. “So?”

He smirked. “Are we still pretending this isn’t happening?”

Your breath hitched.

Because this.

This was happening.

The easy way he watched you. The way your body tilted toward him without thinking. The way you felt calm here, in his space, in this moment.

You exhaled, heart hammering as you set your wine down.

“I don’t want to pretend,” you admitted.

Harry studied you for a long moment. Then, slowly, he set his glass aside, shifting closer.

And when he leaned in—when he brushed his lips against yours, just barely, just enough to give you a chance to stop this—you didn’t.

You pressed closer.

And finally, finally, you let yourself fall.

Right into him. Right into the warmth of his hands, the steady press of his mouth, the way he didn’t hesitate when you kissed him back.

It was slow at first, unhurried and exploratory, like you were both learning something new—even though this had been building for months. Even though the tension between you had been simmering, bubbling over in every stolen glance, every playful smirk, every time he looked at you like he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

And now, you weren’t hiding anymore.

His hands found your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater, dragging you in until you were flush against him. He was so warm, the solid weight of his chest pressing into yours, his scent intoxicating—something woody, something clean, something completely Harry.

You let out a soft gasp when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing over yours in a slow, teasing stroke.

That sound—it did something to him.

Because suddenly, his grip tightened.

And then, you were moving.

He guided you backward until your lower back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. You barely had time to process the cool surface against your skin before his hands were everywhere—sliding beneath your sweater, mapping the curves of your waist, the dip of your spine, his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make you arch into him.

“Harry—”

He groaned at the way you said his name, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your thighs as he stepped between them.

And that was it.

That was the moment everything tipped over the edge.

Because then, Harry was everywhere.

His mouth was hot and insistent against your neck, dragging down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, nipping at your skin just enough to make you whimper.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he murmured against your throat, his voice thick, husky, wrecked.

Your breath hitched. “Me too.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, blown-out, his chest rising and falling as he scanned your face. Checking. Waiting.

You exhaled, chest tight, lips swollen from his kisses.

“I want this, Harry.” Your voice was quiet but firm. “I want you.”

Something in him snapped.

And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.

And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.

But not in the way you expected.

Because for all the urgency—the heat, the months of unresolved tension stretching between you—Harry didn’t rush.

He kissed you slowly, deliberately, his hands steady as they traced the outline of your body, as if he were memorizing you. Like he wanted to savor every second.

And when he finally lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly through the dimly lit hallway, you didn’t protest. Didn’t question it.

You just let yourself be his.

The bedroom was dark, moonlight pooling in through the window, the sheets cool against your back when he laid you down.

And for a moment—just a moment—Harry didn’t move.

He just looked at you.

His green eyes flickered over your face, your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell beneath him. His fingers skimmed up your thigh, teasing, light enough to make you shiver, before he leaned down, his lips hovering just over yours.

"You’re beautiful," he murmured. "You know that, right?"

Your breath caught.

Because it wasn’t a line.

He wasn’t trying to seduce you. He wasn’t saying it just to say it.

He meant it.

And you could feel yourself unraveling beneath him.

"Harry—"

But your words cut off when he kissed you again, deeper this time, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, tugging it up, peeling it off with aching slowness.

His hands traced over your bare skin, up your ribcage, over the dip of your waist. His touch was reverent, patient—like he wanted to learn every inch of you, every soft sound you made when he touched you just right.

Your hands were just as desperate, fingers threading into his curls, tugging lightly as you pressed up into him.

He groaned, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank off his own shirt, tossing it aside before meeting your gaze again.

You exhaled sharply, taking him in.

The tattoos you had only glimpsed before, now completely on display—the swallows over his chest, the butterfly below his ribs, the intricate designs that inked his arms, his stomach, his strong, solid frame.

And then, he kissed you again.

Slower this time. Deeper.

His mouth trailed lower, over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, his fingers working at the button of your jeans, slipping them down, kissing along every inch of newly exposed skin.

When his lips met the inside of your thigh, you gasped—gasped, because he was so close to where you needed him, but still taking his damn time.

"Harry—"

"Shh," he murmured, pressing a kiss higher, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. "Let me take my time with you, love."

And then, he did.

He kissed his way up your thighs, parting them further, his hands gripping your hips as his mouth finally—finally—pressed against you.

You gasped, back arching, fingers tangling into the sheets as he licked into you, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction, every sound that spilled from your lips.

"Fuck," you choked out, hips jerking involuntarily.

He hummed, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you as his tongue flicked exactly where you needed it, his hands holding you open, steadying you, grounding you.

And when he slipped a finger inside you—just one, at first, then another, curling them perfectly— you nearly came undone.

Your body tightened, the pleasure mounting too fast, too intense, and you could feel it—feel yourself teetering on the edge.

"That’s it," Harry murmured against you, his voice thick with lust and admiration. "Let go for me, love."

And you did.

Your orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure rolling through every inch of your body as your hips jerked against his mouth, his tongue not relenting—**not even for a second—**as he worked you through it, letting you fall apart completely.

By the time he finally pulled back, his lips were wet, his pupils blown, his expression completely wrecked.

"You taste fucking perfect," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning over you again, caging you in beneath him.

You were still shaking, still catching your breath, but you wanted more.

You needed more.

"Harry—"

He kissed you before you could finish, swallowing your words as he kicked off his jeans, rolling his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he was for you.

And then, finally, he lined himself up, pausing—just for a second.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing uneven.

"You okay?" he murmured, voice ragged.

"Yes," you breathed. "I want you."

That was all he needed.

And then, he pushed inside you.

A broken sound tore from his throat the second he was buried in you—deep, slow, perfect.

And you—fuck, you felt everything.

The stretch, the fullness, the delicious ache of him sinking into you, inch by inch, until he was completely inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching, his hands gripping your hips so tightly.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, letting you adjust, letting you feel him.

And then—

Then he pulled out, just enough before thrusting back in, deeper this time.

You gasped, fingers digging into his back, clinging to him.

It was slow at first. Deep and unhurried. Like he wanted to memorize you, like he wanted you to feel all of him.

But then—

Then you moaned his name.

And everything changed.

Harry growled, his grip tightening, his pace picking up, thrusting harder, faster, deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N—" His voice was wrecked, his body pressing you into the mattress, claiming you, ruining you.

And you—you didn’t care.

You wanted to be ruined.

You wanted all of him.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent shockwaves through you.

"You gonna come again for me, love?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Yes—Harry—fuck—"

"That’s it," he groaned. "Come for me."

And you did.

You shattered around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling as he followed right after, burying himself deep, spilling inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a long moment, the room was filled with nothing but harsh breathing, racing heartbeats, the aftermath of something that felt inevitable.

And then, Harry moved.

He didn’t pull away. Didn’t let you go.

He just wrapped himself around you, holding you close, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.

"Stay," he murmured, voice soft, tender.

And this time—

You didn’t run.

The smell of coffee woke you before the sunlight did.

Your body was aching in the best way, muscles deliciously sore, the sheets warm and soft against your skin. For a moment, you just laid there, blinking slowly, listening to the faint sounds of movement coming from beyond the bedroom door.

And then you realized.

You weren’t alone.

Not in the way you used to be.

Not in the way that had felt permanent for so long.

You exhaled, stretching slightly before sitting up, pulling the duvet tighter around you.

Harry’s shirt—which you had shamelessly stolen off the floor at some point during the night—hung loosely around your shoulders, smelling like him, feeling like him.

You pushed the bedroom door open quietly, stepping into the hall, and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen.

And the sight that greeted you?

It nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

Harry stood at the stove, clad in nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, a spatula in one hand, a coffee cup in the other.

And he wasn’t alone.

Theo and Lily sat at the kitchen island, chattering away, their legs swinging as they watched him flip pancakes.

Theo snickered. “That one’s burnt.”

Harry scoffed, dramatically flipping it onto a plate. “It’s golden brown, thank you very much.”

Lily giggled. “Theo says you always burn the first one.”

Harry smirked. “Well, your mum distracted me.”

At that, you cleared your throat.

Three heads turned toward you in unison.

Theo and Lily grinned.

Harry’s eyes flickered over you—his shirt swallowing your frame, your bare legs peeking out from underneath.

And then, slowly, he smirked.

“What?” you asked, fighting back a smile.

His dimples deepened. “You like seeing me in dad mode?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab a mug from the counter. “I think I just like seeing you.”

Harry stilled for half a second.

And then, with zero warning, he was behind you—wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

Your breath hitched. “Harry—”

“Get used to it, love,” he murmured against your skin.

Your heart stumbled.

And suddenly, you knew.

This was real.

This was yours.

And for the first time in a long, long time…

You weren’t afraid.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

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[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆! ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: trying to warm up to writing again so I can get out of this slump. Enjoy some smut of Ghibli pretty boy 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Howl Pendragon x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.6k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, magic (so dubcon), masturbation, squirting, overstimulation, whimpery Howl

The basket in the crook of your arm begins to weigh heavily as you wander around the market, browsing the stalls now that you’ve got all the ingredients to make meals for the next few days. You enjoy cooking for your little family in the castle and you know well enough that Howl is too prone to skipping meals unless you sit him down and put one in front of him. 

Sweet fragrances fill your nose as you stand before a stall selling flowers, your gaze roaming the vast array of colours and the prices attached to each arrangement.

“We have a buy one get twenty percent off for these arrangements.” The vendor, a woman just shy of turning middle-aged, pipes up as she gestures to the grandest and most expensive row of floral arrangements. You nod with a silent smile to show you’ve heard. You have no intention of spending that much coin today but you do have a little more left over than what you’d expected when you left home today and something colourful would make for a lovely addition to your living space, you think. There’s something inherently romantic and uplifting about flowers and you deeply enjoy making sure they have a presence in your life. 

With romance on the mind, you smile to yourself as your fingertips reach up to your collar where a golden necklace is clasped around your neck. It’s a chain of metallic flowers that doesn’t stray too far from your throat, each flower bearing a little pink gem in the middle with a white glassy bead between each flower upon the necklace’s chain. It’s a gift that Howl surprised you with this morning, giving no other reason for it than wanting to give you a little something. He’s overly dramatic at times and has more trouble than most with facing his fears but he does truly love you and you can tell he’s always trying to find ways to remind you of that without words. 

Your eyes land on an arrangement of pink tulips, white lilies and lilies of the valley. That’ll look lovely on the main table, you decide. 

“Just this one please.” You point to the particular arrangement that’s caught your eye and have your coin purse on hand from within your basket already. The vendor picks up the bouquet and begins wrapping the flowers to make them easier to carry without the arrangement being disrupted. You set the proper amount of money down on the table and your hand plays with your necklace in the meantime.

And as you accept the flowers, you feel a wave of heat bloom in your cheeks. 

“Thank you.” You smile politely at the exchange and set the flowers atop your basket, heading off to return home. But your breath feels shorter and skin feels warmer. Have you over-exerted yourself today? Surely not, you do shops like this in the day all the time. You had a decent breakfast and enough sleep… So why do your clothes feel so uncomfortable against your skin? Dehydrated, perhaps. 

You find a nearby café and pop inside to buy a snack and some water, hoping to improve your current state. But the other customers and their chatter, their indecisiveness and the way they stand too close to you from behind in the queue is all starting to get on your nerves. You buy your snack and drink and find a little seat in a corner to have them in peace. You find yourself eating quickly to try and amend whatever your body is telling you is wrong and find yourself not taking any time to really appreciate the taste of the sweet little pastry. Your water is similarly finished quickly and without thought. Your mood doesn’t improve and the chair is uncomfortable. You squirm in your seat the whole time, unable to find a comfortable position and regretting having come in here and spent any money at all as it’s done nothing to make you feel better. You want to be alone – no, – you want to be home. Home and in Howl’s arms as he takes your mind away from whatever’s ailing you, maybe even uses a bit of his magic to make you feel better. 

You stand up and pluck up your basket from the seat beside you. And then your eyes widen slightly as you feel a sudden wave of slickness in your panties. You cringe as you try to subtly shift your hips and thighs without anyone noticing, praying that whatever’s just leaked from you won’t seep out of your panties. It’s too early to be your period, you assess as you leave the café and make your way home. Discharge, maybe? It could just be wetness but you’re not aroused. Or are you? The thought makes heat bloom across your cheeks as you turn the corner and step into the street that’ll lead you home. You’re frustrated, keep squirming to push your thighs together and make friction, all you want is to be with Howl… but what could have brought this on? 

You find yourself shiver slightly as a cool breeze caresses your exposed chest, a pleasant feeling washing down your spine at feeling such relief on your flushed skin. Oh… you are horny. The realisation only fills your mind with lewd images of what you might coax your lover to do to sate such a feeling and the intensity of it only grows and grows. You continue to silently pray that you won’t leak through your panties but the material is sticky now and feels as though it’s rubbing against your sensitive slit with each awkward step. 

You bite your bottom lip and wince as your hardened nipples poke against the fabric of your bra and all you want is to feel Howl’s hands squeezing them, his warm mouth wrapped around them. You let out a little huff through your nose as you suppress a soft whine at just how incredible that idea seems right now. You finally arrive home and set the basket down on the table. 

“Hi, Calcifer. Are Howl or Markl in?” You ask as you pick up some firewood to feed him. 

“Welcome back. Markl left not that long ago to make some deliveries and Howl said he should be back soon.” Calcifer replies before gnawing on the chopped log you’ve given him. You’re disappointed at the news that Howl isn’t back yet but nod your head in acknowledgement. 

“Alright. You keep up the good work, you’re doing brilliantly as always.” You offer him a kind smile. A little praise goes a long way with Calcifer and you know Howl doesn’t do it often enough. Calcifer gives his thanks and begins mumbling to himself about how you appreciate him at least. 

Your eyes glance to your full basket that needs to be unpacked but you just frown at it and head upstairs to the bedroom that you share with Howl instead. You’re growing increasingly frustrated and you’re sure the flowers will do just fine without water for a little while longer. 

The moment the door closes behind you, you’re stripping off your clothing. It gets thrown to the floor, the end of the bed, wherever. Your panties have a little puddle of slick upon the seat and a sinewy string of arousal sticks between them and your pussy as you step out of them and lay yourself on the cool silk sheets of the bed. They feel like a balm to your heated skin and you let out a soft mewl at how your nipples stiffen in the air, feeling so sensitive and aching for attention. 

Your mind wanders to memories of long, passionate nights shared with Howl in this bed, how much of an attentive lover he is and how he loves to tease just as much as he himself likes to be teased. One hand slides down past your abdomen as you recall the amount of times he’s reverently lapped between your thighs like you were a fountain of youth and not just a woman. Your other hand pinches at your left nipple and a small moan is muffled behind your bitten lip. Why are you even so worked up? You don’t think you’re at a point in your cycle where your hormones would be affecting you like this. All you can think of is how relieving it is to have your fingers rub sticky circles onto your clit that can never amount to how magical Howl’s tongue can feel there. Your fingers dipping into your weeping hole pale in comparison to the sweet stretch of his cock. All you can think of is him, and what you want him to do to you as you moan softly without anxiety that you’ll be overheard as the door is enchanted to be soundproofed. You yourself feel enchanted, like you’re under some spell of-

Your fingers pause completely and your eyes open, the bubble of your fantasy having burst. 

That bastard. 

You were under a spell. A spell he put upon you this morning with a gentle declaration of love and a kiss to your cheek as he clasped your new gift around your neck this morning. You wipe the wetness from your fingers onto your thighs and sit upright, your body subconsciously spreading your legs wider as you do so. You reach back for the clasp of the necklace and end up tracing your hands around the entire chain of it but there’s no clasp to be found. It’s gone. You huff. What an asshole, casting a spell over you to make you horny while you go out and be a dutiful lover, making sure you all eat for the next few days and he has the audacity to not even be here when you return feeling like a cat in heat. 

Without him here to break the spell by removing the necklace from your throat, there’s little else you can do and your throbbing clit is practically weeping for the return of your fingers. Hoping that you can at least quell the heat in your core, if not satiate it, you lay back with a frustrated huff and resume rubbing at the sensitive little pearl. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds as you touch yourself, your head tipped back against the plush pillow beneath your head. It feels good but it’s not good enough. Howl made this mess and now you firmly believe that he should be the one to clean it up; with his slender fingers, that talented mouth, his pretty co- 

“Well, isn’t this a most welcome sight to return home to?~” A familiar voice teasingly muses from the doorway. 

You’re startled for a moment as you instinctively try to cover yourself up before you take a moment to realise who it is that’s closing the door behind him. 

“You.” You hiss as he grins down at you, clearly proud of his handiwork. “This is your fault!” He cocks his head to the side, green jewels swinging at his ears as his lips curl upwards even more. 

“Oh, you were thinking about me? I’m flattered, sweetheart~” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You huff in reply as he sets a knee on the bed and his eyes drink in the sight of your flushed skin, everything on display for him as you lay beautifully in the middle of your shared bed like a present just waiting to be opened and played with. 

“Ah… You don’t like the magic I put into your gift?” He asks, his tone playful and you don’t know whether you want to smack or kiss that smug grin right off his pretty face. 

“No.” You reply firmly. His deft fingers glide up your thigh and then curl around it to tug it towards him. He lets out an awed sigh at the sight of your wet slit, your slickness dripping down to the sheets. 

“Oh but look~” He croons, “Your sweet pussy just loves it~” He bites his plush bottom lip as though resisting the urge to just dive right into you like a starved man. “So pretty…” He whispers as he gently gathers up some wetness from your entrance and pushes it up to smear over your sensitive clit. It sends a shot of liquid pleasure straight through your blood and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your throat.

“How about this…” He begins to propose as he moves his hand away from your pussy in favour of featherly dancing his fingers between your hips in a way that’s almost ticklish but brings you a teasing sort of pleasure, “You put on a pretty show for me-” He leans in to kiss down the valley of your breasts, warm and sensual, “-and I’ll remove the necklace, deal?” 

You whine quietly, wanting relief right here and right now after the day of desperate need you’ve faced so far. But you know that Howl is a trickster at heart: if you don’t play by his rules then you won’t be in for the prize. 

“Deal.” You concede. Howl makes himself comfortable at the end of the bed between your legs, a hand reaching down to adjust his pants as he takes in the sight of your aching pussy and stiff nipples. You lay back and spread your legs wide apart to make sure that none of his view is obstructed, even if it brings a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

You resume rubbing your throbbing clit, making sure to make quite a spectacle of using your fingers to spread your slit open for him to see just how wet you are from the enchantment he’s put upon you (and from being watched in such an intimate and vulnerable position like this). He’s watching you with enthralled attention as you play with yourself for his bright blue eyes to see. 

You’re oozing slick as you rub yourself in front of him, your pussy practically begging him with this little show to just come and take you already with how desperate and ready you are for him after suffering from the necklace’s enchantment all day until now. As you use one hand to rub sticky circles on your clit, the other comes up to cup your breast, teasing and pinching at your pert nipples for him. 

Alluring moans and whines spill past your lips as you try to tempt him into giving up this bet and fucking you right here and now, convincing him with both sight and sound. Your fingers make an audibly slick noise as you smear your wetness through your slit, feeling it leak down from your needy entrance. 

“Rub faster now.” He murmurs as he bites his lip, hand rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants, the bulge of it becoming ever more obvious. “Come on, pretty girl, beg me to fuck you~” There’s a taunt to his tone. You know he already wants you (this is Howl, after all, the damn can’t ever keep his hands off you) but he’s holding back just to see how far you’ll go for him. 

But you obey his order nonetheless and press down harder on your clit, rubbing faster against it as it throbs beneath your fingertips that flick with need against it. The moans pour past your lips with more frequency now and you feel the beginnings of your orgasm coiling tight in your abdomen, a sensation that leaves you aching for Howl to crawl closer and finish what he started when he clipped that damned chain around your neck this morning. Your lips tremble and the sight of your impending climax makes Howl wet his lips as he undresses himself, taking out his cock to stroke it to the sight of you, pre-cum beading at his pretty pink tip. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Earn it.” He says lowly and he draws nearer to you. The promise of being filled by the cock that he’s fisting in front of you seems to tip you over that edge and you throw your head back against the pillows with a series of cries for him and the liquid-electric pleasure that bursts through your veins. It’s intense, far more intense than when you usually touch yourself, and you can only chalk it down to the enchantment’s effects on you. 

While your head is still reeling up in the clouds of pleasure, you feel Howl’s weight over you, his hands capturing your wrists as his lips crash onto yours to swallow all of your pretty moans, tongue curling into your mouth. But he pulls away just a few millimetres to hear the little choked noise you let out when he pushes his cock into your fluttering heat, still so sensitive from having cum just seconds ago.

“H-Howl-!” You whimper out his name and look up at him with wide eyes. Usually, he gives you tender breaks between orgasms that are filled with sensual touches and soft kisses, never once has he intentionally taken you while you’re already at the height of your sensitivity like this. 

“Ah, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already…” He hisses between his teeth, not having expected you to feel quite this good compared to his hand. He closes his sapphire eyes for a moment to compose himself before he begins to thrust into you, skin smacking against yours with each deep thrust.

“You said you’d take the necklace off!” You gasp between little panted breaths, fighting how your eyes just want to roll back as your hips twitch and your thighs shake. 

“Mh, I did say that~” He agrees with a quiet whine at how tightly you’re squeezing his cock, his hands still keeping your wrists in place as he holds them on either side of your head. His necklace and earrings swing with each thrust into you, his hips angling so that the head of his cock nudges against your sweet spot over and over. He glances down to find you creaming around him already, your pussy soaked with your heightened arousal. “You feel so good… keep squeezing on me like that, my love~” There’s almost a whimper to his tone as he fucks into you, leaning down over your body to bury his face in your neck and take in your scent as his balls smack against your ass. 

“Howl, c-can’t take m-more…” You brokenly plead with him, head tipped back against the pillows and granting his warm mouth perfect access to your neck for him to cover it in kisses and little bites. 

“Oh, yes you can~” He replies and you can feel the smile upon his lips as he says so. 

“You’re gonna let yourself feel so good~” He pushes one of your thighs up with a hand under your knee so that he can thrust deeper into you, making sure to keep his hips angled to hit all of your sweet spots and grinding against you a little each time he bottoms out so that your clit rubs against his pelvis, “And you’re gonna squirt all over my cock~” He murmurs by your ear and catches the lobe between his teeth. 

His words strike just as deeply as his cock does into you and you find yourself clenching around him, making him whimper as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He speeds up just enough to have you wrapping your legs around his tapered waist, holding him close so that there’s no chance of him trying to pull away at the last minute, something you wouldn’t put past him. 

You moan desperately beneath him as you feel yet another climax approaching, the muscles in your abdomen going taut as you clench on him. Howl’s grip on your wrist and leg tighten as he moans praises into your ear mere moments before you squirt on his cock, making a mess of it. And he continues thrusting into you to ride you through it. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it~” He lets out a shaky breath, his voice whiny in your ear, “Cum on my cock, make it yours, sweetheart~” And it’s just as you’re about to cry out that now it’s really too much that Howl hits his own end too, pulling out to rapidly stroke his cock and watch his cum paint ribbons over your pretty, used pussy. 

Your mind and body are reeling so much from all the pleasure that you don’t even notice that the chain around your throat is being removed until you hear its little links clink together as it’s set down on the bedside. Howl collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pushing your hair away from your face so that he can pepper your forehead and cheeks in kisses before finally softly pecking your lips. 

“Easy, darling, easy…” He whispers soothingly as he cups your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, “Would you like some water?” He offers softly, knowing that all of this was orchestrated to be very intense for you and you’re deserving of aftercare that’s just as intense. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*

The next morning, Howl wakes with a smile on his lips to find you in his arms, hair tousled from yesterday’s activities and sleep. You’re warm and still naked against him, the skin-on-skin contact making him just want to melt into you. 

He lets out a quiet groan, however, at an ache in his loins when he realises he’s erect. His hand runs down his pale belly to wrap around his cock, only for him to let out a muffled whimper when he finds himself much more sensitive than usual. 

Your eyes crack open as you giggle cheekily, revealing that you haven’t been asleep at all. The wizard’s other hand rises up to his neck to find that the necklace has now been clipped around his throat instead. 

“Oh, you minx…” 

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[goonforgeto]

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f1 driver!nanami x perfumer!reader

SYNOPSIS — It’s your big break: a private commission from a high-profile client brings you and your small-town French perfumery to gorgeous Monaco in the middle of July, where you’ve just begun setting up your first standalone boutique. But between construction delays, holiday crowds, and the chaos of Grand Prix weekend, peace is hard to come by. And when a handsome stranger stumbles into your unfinished shop—seeking shelter from the paparazzi and asking for a chance to see you again—your careful plans start to unravel in ways you never expected.

TAGLIST — open , comment to be added

CONTENT — mostly tbd even though this currently sits at 15k words, f!reader, age gap, smut, angst, happy ending

a/n: i am so super excited to take part in @lily-bisque’s summer bash collab! this fic is super special as it combines f1 and jjk, two of my fav things ever😁 its also super long cuz i cant stfu ab f1 sorry

PREVIEW BELOW masterlist | divider

You had a sinking feeling the universe wasn’t on your side the moment you realized your business trip—thinly disguised as a much-needed vacation—coincided with Monaco’s most chaotic weekend of the year: the Grand Prix.

The city had transformed overnight. What should have been a quiet few days by the coast filled with business, dinners, and soaking up the sun was now a blur of revving engines, champagne-soaked balconies, and tourists with more money than sense. Hotels were overbooked, taxis impossible to catch, and every café table already claimed by someone wearing silk and sunglasses worth more than your rent.

Still, you tried to focus on the reason you came. A private commission from a wealthy Italian heiress: she wanted a signature perfume that smelled like danger, like lust.

Something unforgettable, she said, her voice thick with too much wine when she had visited your perfumerie at your hometown in Grasse last spring.

She was ecstatic when she heard you were planning to open your first standalone boutique, and declared that Monaco was the only place worthy of your scent.

That had been two springs ago. Now, in the heat of July, you were standing in the middle of your not-quite-finished shop on Rue de Princess, ankle-deep in linen samples and sawdust, squinting at a half-installed light fixture while your architect bickered with the electrician in rapid-fire French.

The boutique was still more bones than body, but the walls smelled of promise. You’d spent the morning sorting glass vials and raw materials you had shipped from Grasse—vetiver, jasmine, tobacco, bergamot—trying to mix something that felt like heat and adrenaline without sliding into cliché.

You were halfway through dabbing something sharp and citrusy onto your wrist when the front door burst open with a crash loud enough to startle the architect into dropping his tape measure.

A man—tall, blonde, and out of breath—stepped inside. He pushed the door shut behind him with his shoulder and locked it. Then turned around.

“Please,” he said, voice low but urgent. “Just… give me sixty seconds.”

[ TAGLIST ] : open, comment to be added

[arabella-syntax]

Beyond the Night (Sequel to Just Tonight)

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Y/N

Summary: strangers who kissed once before dawn. a year later, they meet again — not by chance, but by quiet inevitability.

(Read Just Tonight prior to this).

Word count: > 7.5k, one shot

A/N: Sad news about Diogo Jota. But, Spain won their first match in the Euros, so here’s a little treat.

———————————————————————

It had been raining again.

Not the same kind of rain as a year ago—less urgent, more a lingering mist that softened the corners of things. Mollet del Vallès in December was cold in a way that didn’t quite sting. It seeped instead—into gloves, into coat sleeves, into the air between thoughts.

Alexia stood quietly beside her father’s grave. There were no words today. Not because she had none, but because they sat heavy on her chest. She’d brought the same white lilies she always did. The florist in town had already prepared them when she arrived, as though they’d been waiting for her.

“Hola, papa,” she whispered finally. The words barely passed her lips.

She stood for a long time. Just… breathing. She hadn’t planned to stay the night in Mollet, just a quick visit, like she did every December. A drive up, a walk through the cemetery, a coffee somewhere to warm her fingers, then back to Barcelona before evening.

But the rain had changed things.

She always let it.

There was something about this town when it rained—like it remembered too.

————

By the time she left the cemetery, the sky was thick and low, streaked with winter light. Her gloves were damp, her scarf wrapped twice around her neck. She kept her hood up. She wasn’t looking to be seen.

She walked the streets slowly, half-wanting to be stopped by someone, half-hoping no one recognized her beneath the layers.

She passed a small bookstore near the square where she used to wait for her mother after school. The windows were fogged up from the inside. Strings of warm white fairy lights looped around a crooked pine tree in the display.

Across the road was a café she didn’t remember ever noticing.

Something made her pause.

The lights were soft. The glass slightly steamed. And near the window, alone at a table, sat a woman with a cup of tea cradled in both hands.

Her heart kicked once, gently.

Then again, harder.

The coat. The hair, just longer now. A little darker. That stillness. That quiet kind of presence she’d only known in one person.

Y/N.

Alexia didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

A year.

She hadn’t seen her since the hotel room in Barcelona. Since the note left on the nightstand. Since the kiss before dawn.

And now—here. Of all places.

————

Y/N looked up.

Her gaze hit her like it had that night in the car. Gentle. Piercing. Like she saw something behind you and chose not to name it out loud.

Y/N smiled.

Just slightly.

Like Y/N had been expecting this all along.

Alexia stepped inside.

The warmth hit her skin immediately, prickling her cheeks. She pulled down her hood, unwrapped her scarf.

Y/N watched her cross the room but didn’t speak until Alexia was there, standing by her table.

There were no empty chairs left except the one across from her.

“Coffee’s not bad,” Y/N said softly, like it had been hours, not a year. “Unless you want something stronger.”

Alexia slid into the seat.

She didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her.

Y/N was the same. But quieter, somehow. Or maybe just more herself.

Alexia found her voice.

“You’re here.”

Y/N tilted her head. “So are you.”

“I didn’t expect…”

“You never do.”

A pause.

“I visit every December,” Alexia said, fingers curling around the warm ceramic mug Y/N had already signaled the barista to bring. “My father.”

Y/N nodded. “Same.”

Alexia blinked.

“My mother lives here now. Just moved from Lisbon. It’s strange being back.”

“You didn’t say last time.”

“There was a lot I didn’t say last time.”

With a shy smile, Alexia held a right hand across the table. “I’m Alexia.”

Y/N nodded, grinned knowingly. “I know.” And continued, “I’m Y/N.”

————

The conversation was unhurried. Quietly careful, like two people carrying something fragile between them.

Y/N told her about the music she’d been producing for an upcoming Indie artist that was released in the spring. She followed the Indie act on a tour — as their keyboardist through small cities in Spain, the UK, France.

Alexia told her about injuries, recovery, the long stretches of games and the even longer stretches of silence in between.

They didn’t mention the night they’d shared right away.

But it lingered.

In the glances. In the pauses. In the way their bodies leaned forward, ever so slightly, without quite meeting.

Y/N played with her tea spoon.

“You know,” Y/N said after a while, “I walked past the Arc a few times this year. Once in March. Once in September.”

Alexia smiled, eyes fixed on her cup.

“Did you?”

“I thought maybe I’d see you. Or maybe just feel what I felt that night. But it wasn’t there.”

“No music?”

“No rain.”

They shared a look.

Alexia said, almost inaudibly, “I waited a little longer at the arch after you left.”

Y/N’s mouth softened. “I didn’t know if you would.”

“I didn’t know either.”

Another silence.

Alexia leaned back slightly. “Do you want to walk?”

Y/N’s smile returned. “Too beautiful to waste the night?”

Alexia nodded. “Something like that.”

————

They left the café just as the streetlights flickered on. The rain had slowed again, reduced to a fine mist that clung to hair and lashes.

They walked without direction.

Down past the old church. Along the train tracks that bordered the town. Past houses lit with soft golden light and windows that framed other people’s lives.

Y/N had her hands in her coat pockets.

Alexia walked with hers tucked into her sleeves.

“It feels different here,” Y/N said.

Alexia looked up. “How?”

“Less like I’m a stranger. More like I’m remembering something I didn’t know I lost.”

Alexia didn’t reply right away.

Then: “It’s like that. For me too.”

————

They reached the station.

The same one Y/N had stood at, soaked and uncertain, one year ago.

She looked up at the departures board.

“My train’s in thirty minutes.”

Alexia studied her.

“You could let me drive you.”

Y/N met her eyes.

“That’s how it started, wasn’t it?”

Alexia smiled knowingly. “Si.”

Y/N gave a small laugh. Then nodded.

“Okay. Let’s drive.”

————

In the car, Alexia connected her phone to the speakers.

The song that come on was Banks’ - it was dark, seductive, and atmospheric.

Y/N smiled when the song played.

“I thought this isn’t your taste?”

A grin tucked to the corners of her lips, and Alexia replied, “Well, I met a girl from the rain.”

And Y/N looked away towards the scene outside the passenger window. Smiling.

They drove back toward Barcelona slowly. The highway was empty. Lights rolled over them like waves.

At some point, Y/N leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Her hand rested on her thigh, close to Alexia’s gear shift.

Alexia didn’t touch it.

She didn’t need to.

————

Near Passeig de Gràcia, Y/N stirred.

“You remember where?”

Alexia nodded. “I do.”

She pulled up in front of the same hotel.

Y/N didn’t move right away.

Alexia turned off the engine.

“Well,” Y/N said softly, “this is the part where I either say goodnight…”

“Or,” Alexia said, voice low, “you say we don’t have to.”

Y/N looked at her.

And opened the door.

————————————————————-

Alexia followed.

She didn’t rush. The marble lobby echoed faintly with holiday jazz playing low from overhead speakers. At the desk, the night receptionist barely looked up as Y/N nodded and retrieved her key card. No names spoken. Just the quiet understanding of late hours and passing company.

The elevator ride was still.

They stood on opposite sides, their reflections layered in the metal doors, neither speaking. But the air between them pulsed.

Upstairs, the room was dimly lit. A small wreath hung above the desk, and the view from the window framed the soft blush of the city skyline. Barcelona looked like a snow globe that hadn’t been shaken. Still. Silent.

Y/N set her bag down. Took off her coat. Turned on the speaker near the bed.

“Still want to listen to more songs?”

Alexia nodded, stepping further in. “Always.”

The music was darker now — not sad, just low-lit. The kind of songs you didn’t speak over. The kind made for touch, for memory. Y/N moved to the minibar and poured them both something from the tiny bottle of red tucked between water and soda.

Alexia accepted it wordlessly. She didn’t sit yet. She stood across from her, the glass warming in her palm.

“You’re quieter than I remember,” Y/N said softly.

Alexia tilted her head. “I remember everything — louder.”

“What do you mean?”

“The rain. The music. Your laugh.”

Y/N inhaled, held the breath for a moment, then exhaled. “You’re more intense than I remembered,” she said.

Alexia’s smile was wry. Her voice was barely there when she uttered, “I know.”

They stood in that space between choice and inevitability — a thread pulled tight between them, waiting.

Then the next track came on.

It was one of Y/N’s produced songs. A slow burn of synth and heartbeat. A voice singing something between want and ache - breathy whispers to raw, aching belts.

Alexia stepped forward.

Y/N didn’t move.

Another step. Closer.

“I’ve thought about you,” Alexia said.

Y/N swallowed. “When?”

“When it rained. When I couldn’t sleep.”

Y/N smiled, slow and sharp.

“Me too.” Then Y/N confessed, “You’re the breaths behind this song.”

Floored, Alex moved forward.

The first touch was gentle — the back of Alexia’s fingers along Y/N’s cheek.

Y/N leaned into it.

Then they were kissing again.

No confusion this time. No hesitation. Just mouths finding what they had remembered.

Alexia’s hands slid around her waist. Y/N’s fingers curled into her hair. They moved through the room without breaking apart — steps staggered, music spinning behind them.

Clothes unbuttoned. Shrugged off. Nothing torn.

Alexia didn’t rush. She had never rushed with Y/N. She kissed her like she was reading something — the curve of her neck, the soft line of her stomach, the arch of her back when she gasped against the sheets.

Y/N touched her like she was afraid to forget — fingers firm, then featherlight, tracing the inked stories on Alexia’s skin.

It wasn’t need. It wasn’t escape.

It was recognition.

Bodies pressed close. Breath caught between them. The hum of bass from the speaker becoming a rhythm neither of them noticed until it was gone.

They moved together slowly, deliberately, the way memory does — in loops, in echoes.

And when it was over, they didn’t separate right away.

They lay tangled, skin to skin, breaths softening into sync. Alexia’s hand rested just over Y/N’s heart, as if steadying it.

————

Later, much later, Y/N stirred.

“I don’t want this to disappear again.”

Alexia brushed a thumb over her temple. “Then don’t let it.”

Y/N blinked up at the ceiling. “Would you hate me if I said I’m still figuring it all out?”

“No,” Alexia said. “I hate if you pretended you weren’t.”

Y/N laughed once. A quiet exhale. She rolled over, arm across Alexia’s waist, cheek pressed to her shoulder.

They fell asleep like that.

————

When Alexia woke, it was just after 8.

She reached for her phone, blinked at the grey light leaking through the curtains.

The bed beside her was still warm. But empty.

For a moment, panic stirred in her chest.

Then she saw the note. Tucked under the glass from last night. Same handwriting.

“Still not good at goodbyes.

But better at beginnings now.

Room’s paid until noon.

I’m in town for a little while.

If you want to try a new playlist.”

Alexia stared at it.

Then smiled. She’d knew where to find the girl from the rain.

———————————————————————

A/N: I might, I just might, wrap this Just Tonight universe into a trilogy. Let me know your thoughts.

[thatguywrites]

Drivers + Wags x Bookworm Reader

Piastri + Zneimer, Verstappen + Piquet, Albon + Muni He

In Alex + Lily, reader doesn't really get sports bc I'm projecting how I don't get golf 👍

Oscar + Lily

You first met when you and Lily kept running into eachother at your favorite bookstore

And Lily kept ranting to Oscar about the cute bookstore boy

So he came along one day

More for you than the books, but he was hooked after one look as well

After talking and having book date after book date they ask you out through an annotated book

You and Lily spend every other night cuddled up in a designated corner reading your books

Whenever Oscar feels left out he bribes the two of you to bed with tea and biscuits and cuddles

He'll listen to all your book summaries, and remember every single one, even if neither of you think he cares

The three of you also give eachother books hand picked for eachother for Christmas

It's kinda hard to shop for Oscar

They're almost always recommendations from the two of you, or about cars

But they're the only books he'll read

Color Nicole impressed

Max + Kelly

You're the librarian at P's favorite library

And she drags them to meet the 'nice man who reads all the books for her' every week

The two of them eventually give you their numbers under the guise of asking you to babysit P

And then they invite you to dinners

And all of the sudden your in their bed?

How'd you get there!

Kelly always reads whatever book you're reading so that you'll have someone to talk about it with

If you like it, she likes it, if you hate it, she hates it

Besides, audiobooks are nice for long flights or makeup sessions

Max buys you books from all over the world, in any language you speak

From local writers, or just books he notices haven't made it into your personal collection

He makes you make a list of every book you have/haven't read so that he doesn't buy you a double

P also ends up the best reader in her year

It's hard not to when she has the best teacher, who will help her read whatever book she gets her hands on

Alex + Lily

They find you in a Café while on a date and deside to flirt up a storm with you

And I mean, it's hard not to fall head over heels for these two

As soon as they find out you're a book worm, they're courting you with an onslaught of books

Authors you offhandedly mention liking, special editions of your favorite books, everything they can do to show your love

Nights consist of Lily taking over skin care for the three of you, Alex zoned out into a show on TV, and you nose deep into a book

The public finds out about you because there's always someone huddled in the corner with his nose in a book at Lily's golf matches and Alex's F1 races

Besides how hot they look doing it, sports isn't really your thing

Whenever they come to give you attention you're all ears though

All lips or whatever

In the same way they don't understand the finesse of a good romance book, the details of what club to use, or what tire didn't come naturally to you

Swing well, and go fast

That made more sense

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@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @op-81-lvr-reblogs