#and they’re going over at 1pm
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#oh boy do I love walking in the door and getting yelled at 🙃#we need to get the fuck out of here like yesterday#guess I’m staying up in my room for the rest of the night#and then they wonder why I’m fucking depressed#this is all because I said I’d come to our relatives house for Easter dinner#but I told them I was just gonna come for like 2 hours#and apparently that’s rude and I need to stay longer?#I’m sorry I have work the next day and you guys don’t leave until like 9pm half the time#and they’re going over at 1pm#I thought two hours was a good compromise but apparently not 🙃#the thing that gets me is like instead of just telling me this#I got it screamed at me and told how incredibly rude I am#I didn’t realize stopping at a relative who wanted to see me and making a dish to bring us rude but okay#cool cool cool cool#anyways I’m like super upset because my mom and I have never gotten along and we’ve actually been doing good lately#which has been nice cause I haven’t been getting along with my dad the past few months#and like me and him have always gotten along so it’s kind of hard#he revealed he regretted having me too now and like#both parents have told me that now and it’s fucking hard especially given how I’ve been treated and continue to be treated#so like the fact that me and mom were getting along was… idk it was just#it was nice for once#so idk it makes this hurt a lot more#I’ve been made to feel like I’m a fucking burden my whole life#I was a good kid- I didn’t act out and I did what I was told and got straight As and wasn’t a picky eater#yeah I had a lot of health issues but that was out of my control#and they still treated me like I was such a burden#it’s hard it’s so fucking hard#I just want to feel loved and like I was wanted I don’t know what I ever did wrong#I’m just never going to be enough am I?#my whole life has felt like it’s been me trying to gain their approval and it just feels like they’re stringing me along most of the time
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i honestly would love to see more of jamie with bea like him deciding to take her to see the team for the first time after she’s born because maybe him and reader wanted some time for themselves and get adjusted before having everyone meet her?
My whole family is out today and I have nothing to do, so I’m going to be answering some requests! And maybe opening up my inbox again
I’m a sucker for requests that ask for continuations of my other fics. Thanks for requesting!
lyrical smile, indigo eyes
How did you become lucky enough to have a baby like this with the absolute love of your life? You were pretty sure that you and Jamie had peaked at marriage, but Beatrice Georgie Tartt just takes the cake. You are exhausted because labor was intense, and Jamie swears if you gripped his hand any tighter you would have shattered it. But you didn’t, and you’re out of the hospital and back at home. Bea is a week and a half old, and there are only four people who have met her, outside of the hospital staff: Georgie, Simon, Roy, and Keeley. Jamie didn’t want you to be overwhelmed by a lot of visitors right after you had Bea, so he asked a favor from Ted, who promised to keep AFC Richmond so busy that they wouldn’t have time to drop in unannounced.
But now Jamie’s getting ready to go back to training, and he wants to take Bea with him before it starts.
“I can take her this Friday, Isaac’s been texting me all week and Coach said he’d end training early,” he says from his place on the living room floor, folding onesie after onesie.
You roll your eyes from the couch with Bea in your arms, half-asleep in the middle of her feeding.
“You sure you’re up to it, babe? She goes through diapers like crazy. You’re gonna have to bring a brand new pack if you even want to stand half a chance.”
Jamie just grins. “No problem babe, I’m a pro. Ain’t in the Premier League for nothing.”
“Alright,” you say, “I’m coming too, but only to go have girl time with Rebecca and Keeley. Becca says she has some like spa-day stuff for me. Apparently she did all the research into postpartum care.”
Jamie makes a hm, interesting face and Bea lets out a gurgle and wakes herself up.
—
You roll up to Nelson Road at 1pm, diaper bag packed with everything you could possibly need. This is your first time out of the house with Bea, and both you and Jamie are nervous. He’s trying to make you laugh with dumb jokes but your eyebrows are tightly knit together.
Bea is incredibly tiny, and the Richmond boys are… well, they’re not. You know they can be gentle, but you also know they are capable of getting overexcited way too easily. You nervously fiddle with the toy hanging from Bea’s carseat so Jamie looks at you in the rearview mirror and says, “Babe, relax, it’ll be fine, yeah? They don’t have to hold her or anything, and I’ll make sure she’s alright.”
That calms you down a little. You know Jamie means it. He’ll watch Bea like a hawk, and isn’t afraid to be a prick when it comes to taking care of the people he loves. You take a breath and nod as he pulls into a parking space.
—
The team is on the pitch, so you and Jamie walk out to meet Ted, Roy, and Beard. The boy see you walk up and immediately stop their drills, but Roy shouts “Oi! You lot still have got thirty fucking minutes! Keep fucking going!” So they go back to whatever the heck they’re doing.
Ted says, “Look at this cute little tartlet! Ain’t she just the sweetest thing?” and you can tell by Beard’s reaction that Ted’s been waiting to use that one for a while.
“I washed and sanitized my hands three minutes ago,” says Roy, “can I hold her?”
That is a little bit surprising. You would have assumed Ted would be the first one to ask, but you suppose he’s Phoebe’s favorite “Uncle Roy,” a reason, so you hand her over with a kiss on her forehead. You kiss Jamie and say, “Bye babe, I’m headed to see Keels and Becca,” then turn on your heel to Rebecca’s office. You’re headed inside when you throw one last glance at Bea, and almost burst out laughing; Jamie’s helping Roy put on the wrap so he can wear Bea while yelling at the team. You look out the window once you make it to the second floor of Nelson Road and see Roy coaching with Bea snugly secured to his chest and Jamie hovering close by. You’re glad today’s drills don’t seem to involve any footballs.
You tap on Rebecca’s door then push it open, and are immediately almost knocked over by Keeley, who has launched herself at you.
“HI BABE, HOW-FUCKING-ARE YOU?” she squeals, and you wonder if she’s so loud because she was containing herself when she met Bea. You grin and squeeze her back.
“I am so fucking tired and so fucking happy,” you reply. “Hi Bec!!”
Rebecca gets up off the couch and gives you a tight hug as best she can, because Keeley is still holding you.
“It is so wonderful to see you, darling,” she says, “I saw Roy has the baby out on the pitch. She’s going to be kicking a football before she knows how to walk properly.”
You laugh and Keeley says, “Oi, Roy’s got her? Good luck getting her back. If she’s anything like Phoebe she’ll throw a right fit when it’s time to go.”
“I know,” you sigh, “She’s going to have so many aunts and uncles, it’s insane. Not sure where Jaim and I are going to fall on her ranking of favorite people.”
Rebecca smiles and moves to the couch. “Would you like to sit and have some tea? I read there are certain types that help with breastfeeding.”
You grimace. “I would, except sitting is not exactly my favorite right now. But tea sounds wonderful.”
“You can lay down on your stomach, babe,” Keeley says helpfully. “Rebecca and can cuddle and catch you up on everything you’ve missed.”
You say, “That sounds fucking amazing,” and you’re asleep ten minutes into their chattering.
—
You startle awake to the sound of a knock on the door. Rebecca calls, “Come in,” and it takes you a moment to figure out where you are. There’s a blanket draped over you and Rebecca and Keeley are still on the other side of the couch, both furiously typing and scrolling on their laptops.
You rasp, “How long was I out?” as Roy pokes his head in the door. He’s still wearing Bea.
“Twenty minutes,” Rebecca answers. “Keeley and I thought it best to leave you be.” Keeley nods, not looking up from her screen.
Roy clears his throat. “Hi babe!” says Keeley. She half glances up from her screen then does a double take.
“Holy fuck, you look right sexy like that, Kent.”
Roy grins at her. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”
Keeley says, “Too late. I have so many fucking ideas,” to which you and Rebecca share a disgusted face.
“That’s disgusting, Keeley,” you tease.
“Oi, you’re one to talk!” she returns and Rebecca nods as if to say, she’s got a point.
“Any-fucking-way,” Roy says, looking at you, “Figured you’d want to be downstairs when the boys meet Bea. They’re changing and getting clean so it’s going to take a fucking minute.”
You nod. “Hey Bec, you wanna hold her?”
Rebecca closes her laptop. “I would absolutely love to.”
Roy growls in a way that means fuck no, but Bea’s your baby so he unwraps her and gently hands her to Rebecca. Bea settles so sweetly into Rebecca’s arms that you swear you want to cry. Stupid hormones.
“Your prick husband is still downstairs bothering Sam and Dani,” Roy says, and you remember oh yeah, I have a prick husband. You get up off the couch.
“I should probably go see him,” you reply. “Becca, you want to come, or..?”
Rebecca is still gazing at Bea, but she nods and stands up, heels discarded on the floor.
You make your way to the locker room to find Jamie surrounded by the team, scrolling through something on his phone.
“…And this is her wearing her Tartt onesie. Here she is with me mum, and this one…” he trails off when he sees you.
“Hi love!” he says, “Just showing the lads the pictures I got of Bea.”
There’s something about Jamie standing in the middle of the locker room crowded by his team that just makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode. You laugh and bound over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.
“You’re such a dad, Jamie Tartt,” you tell him affectionately, to which he replies, “Learned from the best, didn’t I?” with a glance at Ted.
“Alright,” you say, arms off of Jamie’s neck but now entwined around his left bicep, “who wants to meet Bea officially?”
Hands go up around the room and to your surprise, they’re all quiet. In scary unison, they move to sit on the benches and hold their hands up, palms facing outward.
“What the fuck is happening?” you whisper to Beard.
“Ted had a baby-etiquette debrief,” he whispers back. “Inside voices, clean hands, neck support, the whole deal. Had me make a slideshow to back him up.”
Rebecca shakes her head in disbelief as you all watch Isaac make his way around the room, inspecting hands and pronouncing them clean.
Rebecca does not look like she wants to give up Bea, but you tell her you’ll invite her over in a few days, as long as she doesn’t mind a messy house and takeout. She reluctantly hands Bea to Dani, who is beaming so hard you’re worried for his face muscles.
Jamie, meanwhile, rests his head on yours.
He leans down and whispers, “Hey babe?”
“Hm?” you respond.
“I’m going to fall asleep standing up. D’you think Bea would be fine if we crashed in Ted’s office?”
You grin. You think Bea would be fine anywhere there’s a member of AFC Richmond.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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Fairway to Heaven - Part 2
WC: 12.5K
awe yeeeeah here we go. One ticket to smut town. Read at yo own risk!
TW: talks of death, Harry is so d*ddy in this I’m shaking, agegap
yes, daddy, I will
Read Part 1
~
Sunday morning, as promised, Briar is working the cart on the back course. She includes an additional bottle of Casamigos in her first fill of the day, just in case. To spice up the early morning rounds, she added string lights to her cart. They cast a pink hue over her face as the sun finishes rising.
Briar loves her outfit today. A white, fitted skort with a long-sleeve lavender zip up. She used self-tanner, last night, so her skin is tanned and glowing.
She spots Harry on the practice putting green as she pulls out of the garage. She looks down at her watch. He’s really here at 7:15 AM on a Sunday? Dedication. His long legs are covered by light khaki pants that hug him in the right places, and a navy blue long sleeve.
It seems they’re the only two souls on the course right now. Perfect. She slowly approaches the green, in hopes for redemption. She throws the cart in park and hops out to greet him on the other side.
“Hi, Harry,” Briar says, offering him a shy smile. “Can I grab you anything?”
Harry smiles, putting his putter bag in his bag. He throws both hands in his pockets and begins to walk over to her.
“Morning, Briar. S’early, are they paying you extra to come out here?”
“No, just out here out of the goodness of my heart to serve the dedicated players who are practicing at 7AM on a Sunday,” she teases, finally making direct eye contact with him.
He smirks, placing his hand on the top of the cart and leaning closer to her, admiring the new lights she added.
“Well, I have a new incentive to play the back course more often.”
She inhales sharply. “C-can I get you anything?” she repeats herself, after a beat passes.
“No, thanks, love. I’d better wait for Niall. Plus, it’s a bit early for the hard stuff.”
“I have coffee and orange juice, too!” she squeaks, eyes widening as she recognizes her outburst.
He smiles and says, “Coffee sounds great. Do you have cold brew?”
“Yep! Do you want any cream or sugar?”
“No, thanks. Black is just fine.”
She pours the cold brew into her signature lavender cup. She holds out her cup of colorful bendy straws for him to choose from. He opts for a teal straw with a dolphin charm. She smiles at his choice.
His large hands grasp the cup tightly. She notices the small cross tattoo on his left hand, along with what appears to be an anchor peeking out under his sleeve. During their unfortunate run-in, she didn’t have time to take inventory of every tattoo. She’d jump at the chance to examine each one.
It’s not that she’s intimidated by Harry, but the unreadable way he looks at her makes her feel uneasy. He’s smirking at her, seemingly unbothered by the silence.
“Okay, well, I’ll catch up with you and Niall later, then,” She trails off.
“Looking forward to it. Cheers,” he lifts the cup in her direction, much like their second encounter, and saunters back toward his clubs. He places a $20 bill in her jar on his way.
She pauses for a moment, before jumping back into the cart. As she’s pulling away, she hears the sound of Niall’s boisterous voice calling out for Harry. She smiles and continues on the path.
~
After serving a few groups, Briar is ready for a break a little after 1PM. She pulls the cart over in a lightly wooded area overlooking the 14th hole, not quite hidden from view, but certainly off the beaten path. She sighs, pulling her chips and guacamole out of her lunch box, along with her favorite green iced tea.
She is fussing with her phone with her feet elevated on the cart’s front windscreen when she begins to hear a rustling in the woods behind her. It’s not uncommon to come across foxes, groundhogs, deer or even a possum, but they make her weary nonetheless.
She slowly turns to face the sound before seeing Harry pop out behind a tree.
“Hi, love.”
She shrieks, a delayed reaction, after staring at him for 5 whole seconds.
He chuckles, raising his arms in defense. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t think I’d scare you.”
“How’d you see me, anyway?” She asks, looking around the empty area.
“I came over this way to look for my— Niall — Niall’s ball,” he stumbles, scratching his head at the nape of his neck.
She smiles, knowing he’s full of shit. He just doesn’t want to admit he made a terrible shot.
“Well, hope you don’t have to look too hard.”
He snorts, “Thanks. Hey, while I’m here, can I grab some drinks for us?” He asks, craning his neck to see her snack on the bench of the cart. “Oh shit, are you on a break? I won’t bother you, then.”
“It’s no bother. What would you like?”
“Mich Ultra for Niall, and you can surprise me for mine, thanks,” he smiles sheepishly.
He smiles as she pours his usual Casamigos on the rocks with a lime. Maybe one day she’ll give him a splash of grapefruit or pineapple juice to mix it up.
“S’no problem. Have a good rest of your round,” she smiles.
“Thanks, Birdie, I’ll need all the luck I can get,” he says, placing a $50 bill in her tip jar before walking away with the drinks.
She calls after him, a bit stunned, “Birdie?”
“Yeah, been getting a lot of birdies since I’ve been seeing you out here. You’re my good luck charm. Should’ve started playing the back course ages ago.”
She smiles softly, staring down at her shoes as he walks off. The twisting feeling in her stomach from the pet name makes her dizzy. She sits down to finish her snack and scroll Instagram for a few more minutes before continuing on her way.
Harry finally bought drinks from her, instead of Niall! She drums her knuckles on the steering wheel and sets off towards the clubhouse. She’s grateful he chose not to bring up the run-in after the steam room. Based on their most recent interactions, she’s ready to put that behind her.
She sees Cam on the side of the garage, hitting her vape before shoving it in her pocket.
“Don’t you dare tell Patrick you saw me doing that,” she threatens.
“What do I care? I told him when I started he can’t use me as a spy,” Briar reasons. “Doesn’t everyone in the service industry smoke anyway?”
“Yeah, but there is no three strike rule at Wynnewood. One time and you’re done. Even if you’re seen overly fraternizing with a member, you’re out of here.”
Briar inhales, “Oh, really? Does that happen a lot?”
“I’d say once a summer there is some sort of inappropriate hook-up. Just hasn’t happened yet,” Cam smirks.
Briar nods, staring off toward the restaurant.
“Hey, let me know if you want to grab an early dinner with me after your shift. Dominic promised me a free meal because I’m working a double on Father’s Day.”
“Oh, nice. Yeah, I’ll join,” she smiles, wondering if she’ll cross paths with Harry as they’re finishing their round.
~
The course emptied out significantly by 3PM, so Dominic let Briar off early. She decides to use the extra time to shower and bask in the club’s deluxe amenities. She changes into an outfit she keeps in the back of her Jeep, a pair of white linen pants and a cream, fitted tank top. She ties a cashmere sweater over her shoulders to get the country club look. It’s conservative enough, but walks the line of the dress code.
Her hair is perfectly fluffy after using the Dyson Airwrap, the $600 hair tool that lives freely in the women’s locker room. She touched up her make up, adjusting it slightly now that she’s in front of members at the club.
She turns town the hallway, close proximity to her run-in with Harry, where she sees her uncle chatting with another man. He pats Patrick on the back and continues toward the locker room.
Patrick smiles, placing a hand on her shoulder blade, “Hey, Briar bear! How was your day?”
“Good, started off busy and tapered off, I think the hot weather has people…” she trails off as Harry comes into view, his face stoic as he sees her in close proximity to Patrick.
“Hey there,” Patrick says to Harry.
Harry looks Patrick up and down before giving him a slight nod, “Hello.”
Unable to sit through an awkward silence, Briar interjects, “This is Harry, ‘ve been serving him over the last few weeks on the course. Harry, this is my Uncle Patrick. He’s the golf pro here, actually.”
A look washes over Harry’s face. Is it relief?
“Ah, how’re you doing, mate?” he says, shaking Patrick’s hand. “My buddy Niall swears by your techniques. Maybe you should tone it down. He’s getting closer to beating me everyday,” Harry laughs.
“Yes, Niall! Nice guy. His form has come a long way,” he smiles, looking back at Briar. “I hope you’ve been taking care of my niece out there.”
“Of course. We’ve been calling her our beer angel,” Harry says.
“I’ve been told she’s pretty persuasive. Maybe it’s the generous portions,” he cracks a smile, tousling her hair a bit. “She’s a great addition to the course. She even helped me make a list of members who haven’t taken a session with me. I think you might be one of them.”
Briar’s cheeks heat up. Ugh! Harry is going to find out that’s how she got his name to look him up online. Patrick has a way of embarrassing her without even realizing.
“Hey, speaking of, why don’t you set a time up with me sometime this summer. You probably don’t need it, but you never know, you could always learn something.”
“That sounds great, Patrick, thanks. Well, I’ve got to meet a few people for an early dinner, so I’ll see you both some other time,” Harry smiles softly, gazing at her a beat longer than at Patrick.
“Bye, Harry. Nice to meet you,” Patrick says, oblivious to the burning tension between the two.
Patrick and Briar part ways for a lesson he’s late for. Patrick teaches school aged girls golf every Sunday evening to encourage more of them to get out on the course.
She continues on to the main dining room, poking her head in the door to say hello to the evening kitchen staff. She spots Cam at a table in the corner, perched on one of the comfy leather chairs.
“I love this table, you can people watch for hours. Sometimes I like to narrate what I see,” Cam laughs, drawing Briar’s attention to where she’s pointing.
“There, that lady is like, ‘ugh, I had to take out the Benz instead of the Rolls this afternoon. Can you even believe it?’” Cam says in her most dramatic old lady voice.
“And look, there’s Harry and Niall, I bet they’re planning their weekend hook-ups, like ‘mate, she’s a rocket, she’s totally in t’me’,” She says, in the worst Irish accent Briar has ever heard.
Harry and Niall are leaning against the bar, sipping on their drinks, listening to another man tell an animated story. Harry’s eyes can’t help but gaze in Cam and Briar’s direction.
Briar bursts out laughing, “That was supposed to be Niall?”
“I never said my narrations were good. We can’t all be Snoop Dogg watching Planet Earth.”
“What’s their story, anyway? Are they both single? I’m pretty sure they’re in their 40’s,” Briar asks.
“Mmm, yeah, I think they’re just forever bachelors. I’ve never seen them eat here with women, or have a ring on that finger, for that matter. But, I really don’t know for sure.”
The girls order delicious meals and sip on their cocktails. They’re about to wrap up when their waiter, Isaiah, brings over a bottle of Dom Perignon. Cam’s eyes bug out of her head.
“Zay, what’s this for?”
“Not sure, that member over there, the guy with the brown curly hair, sent it over. If you guys don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Isaiah tries.
“Mmmm, no, don’t think so. We’ll take it. Thanks, Zay,” Cam smiles devilishly. Isaiah pops the cork, pouring two glasses before walking off, pissed he can’t drink Dom P on the clock.
Throughout the interaction, Harry has been staring at their table, waiting for Briar to look over at him. She looks up and smiles shyly. He smirks, raising his glass to her, to which she mirrors his action. Their unspoken sign of gratitude to one another.
“So, when are you gonna hook up with him?” Cam asks, bluntly.
Briar’s eyes bug out, nearly spitting out the champagne, “Huh?”
“Why are you so shocked? Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like a sure thing,” Cam says plainly.
“I-I thought you said I can get fired for that,” Briar questions.
“Yeah, if you get caught. Just don’t get caught.”
Don’t get caught. Sure.
Secret romances have always been her favorite kind of books. The exhilarating feeling of almost being caught, becoming the talk of the town as the news spreads like wildfire.
She’s all in; though, she questions the implication of being Patrick’s niece. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass him. She put him and her Aunt Meredith through the wringer as a teenager. She’s not looking to repeat her high school and early college antics.
She nods, absently.
Cam and Briar finish up their dessert and champagne, get their employee discounts and pay, before heading off for the night. Briar is exhausted, ready to crawl into bed after showering and taking Gus out for a walk.
As Briar walks to her Jeep, she sees the valet boys pull a black Range Rover out front. She pauses for a moment, waiting to see who’s getting in.
Harry pushes open the heavy oak doors of Wynnewood, alone, taking large strides to get in the driver’s seat of the car. He looks around, spotting Briar, and extends a wave, with a smirk, sending that funny feeling straight to her gut.
She is so fucked.
~
Her break on Monday afternoon is a longer one. The course is empty, only seeing a few golfers here and there. She pulls into the same wooded area where Harry scared the daylights out of her the week prior.
She closes her eyes, throwing her sunglasses over to face to try and make it look like she’s not taking a nap on the clock. She just barely dozes off when she sees someone approaching. Harry.
“Hey, Birdie,” he says, smirking. “Taking a little cat nap on the job?”
“Fishing your ball out of the woods again?” She strikes back. He busts out laughing, the first genuine laugh she’s heard.
He likes that she has some bite to her, and that she can make him laugh. A real laugh. Not the kind he forces out when he’s looking to get his dick wet. He helps himself to a water bottle in the cooler, not wanting to make her get up for him.
“Slide over,” he says, expecting her to make some room on the bench for him. She gawks at him for a moment to analyze his face, but obeys. He plops down, placing an arm behind her on the edge of the backrest.
Briar is frozen in place before asking, “Where’s Niall?”
“I’m not always with him. Even I need a break from him sometimes,” he says, nonchalantly. “Came by myself for some peace and quiet. It’s nice to play with headphones in and listen to a podcast.”
“I can see that. Big personality,” she says, not forgetting about the arm that’s snaked around her shoulders. “What’re you listening to?”
“A finance podcast. Kind of boring, but lately I’ve been too busy to read the news.”
“Yeah, real busy. S’that why you’re out here on a Monday at 11AM?” she says, looking up at him to see his reaction. When meeting new people, she likes to test the waters a bit, making sure their sense of humor syncs up.
He chuckles lowly, sucking his bottom lip in his mouth, shaking his head. “Most of the time I’m here, it’s for business,” he increases the pressure where their bodies are touching. “This trip is for pleasure.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, his face mere inches from her. His eyes are burning holes into the side of her head.
He closes the gap when she finally looks over at him, linking their lips together. His arm moves from the back rest to wrap around her lower back, gently laying his finger tips there. The kiss starts out innocently enough, before Briar pulls away, frantically looking around.
“It’s okay. We’re okay,” he assures her. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re okay.”
They resume their kiss, Briar now twisted to face him fully. She can taste the gum he must’ve recently chewed. This fucker came to find her for one thing only, she thinks. She doesn’t mind, though.
His right hand reaches down to pet at the soft skin of her outer thigh, now exposed from her skort riding up. She parts her lips to make room for his tongue that begins to shyly explore her mouth. The same hand begins to migrate toward her ass, so she readjusts to where she is perched on the bench in a kneeling position, now nearly eye height with Harry.
She finally reaches her hands out to touch him; her left hand resting on his right pec, and right hand around the nape of his neck. She pulls away, staring straight into his emerald eyes. Her self control is washing away, but she pulls herself together.
“‘M not supposed to have anyone in the cart with me,” she says, doe eyes wide, darting back and forth to read his face.
He busts out another genuine laugh while pinching her thigh, “Is that what you’re thinking about, Birdie?”
She sits back down and her hands go to the steering wheel. “Well, I’m thinking about other things, too, like how you’re a member and I’m an employee.”
He hums, “I think it’s just a divine intervention. Us, being here at this course together as frequently as we are. I’m a member at quite a few places, but this one seems to draw me in more than the others recently.”
Divine intervention? She ponders this, but says nothing. How many country club fees can this guy afford?
“I should probably go,” he says, standing up and stretching after being hunched over in the cart. Her heart sinks at this, but she doesn’t let it show on her face.
“Don’t worry, Birdie, I’ll come back for you,” he says, grabbing her chin like he did in the hallway, placing one last chaste kiss on her lips. “What time does your shift end?”
“Around 3:30.”
“Excellent. Stick around, maybe we can go somewhere this afternoon. I’ll drive us.”
“O-okay. That sounds good.”
“Bye, Birdie,” he says, walking down the path toward the green.
She takes a deep breath to try and regulate her heart beat. It’s already 2:30, so she races back to the clubhouse to try and beg Dominic to let her go early. He gives in, but only if she promises to be the number caller at the next member bingo night.
“Yeah, yeah, sure! Thanks, Dom,” she squeals as she runs off toward the locker room. She spends the extra time preparing for her afternoon with Harry. Her outfit is casual; a white, nearly sheer button down top with light-wash jeans and sandals.
She heads out to her Jeep at 3:37PM. Not too early, not too late. Harry’s car is once again pulled up to the valet stand out front. She watches him head down the stairs, confused, looking around to find where she is.
He changed into his street clothes as well; a pair of cream trousers, white under shirt and a patterned button down. She takes notice of his Vans; an interesting choice for a 40 year old, she supposes.
She waves him over. He acknowledges her and jumps in the car to pull into the spot adjacent to hers. He rolls down the window, perplexed, but motions for her to get in. She rounds the side of the vehicle and steps in.
“I didn’t want anyone to see us,” she says, sheepishly. He understands.
“That’s okay, Birdie. Here, while I drive, go ahead and put your number in my phone. I realized I didn’t grab it when I was looking for you out front.”
Her stomach twists as he hands it to her. She can see his phone is playing Beast of Burden on the Range Rover’s stereo. She carefully types in the numbers, and makes her contact name a simple “🐥” on the off chance someone from the club were to see his phone. And because his nickname for her is fucking adorable.
“I made my name the chick emoji,” she smiles.
“I like that. Thank you. Did you text yourself so you have mine?” he asks.
“Yes. I made yours the fox emoji,” she laughs.
“What? Why?” he questions, alternating looking over at her and the road.
“When you scared me by the woods, I thought it was a fox rustling through the bushes,” she grins. He squawks out a laugh.
“A birdie and a fox. I like it.”
She glances out the window, unsure where he is taking her.
“Where are we going anyway?”
“I thought we could go get drinks and take a stroll through the park. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, bobbing her head to the Eagles song he has on.
~
Harry is extremely easy to talk to. They got their drinks, paid for by Harry, and walked over to the public garden. Summer is just around the corner, so the lawn is busy with people and the flowers are blooming.
Briar sips on her iced green tea, while Harry nurses a black cold brew. His other hand is in his pocket, but she wouldn’t be mad if he held hers. She’s glad they didn’t go for alcoholic drinks; she finds herself to be less talkative and more anxious if she drinks before a date.
If that’s what they’re calling it.
They walk the perimeter of the garden, talking about everything and nothing, stopping only to look at the ducks swimming and eating grapes thrown by energetic toddlers. Harry learns Briar is a Libra, graduated with honors from Boston College, and one day wants to own an animal sanctuary.
He shares with her his funny college stories, and adventures with Niall since they first became pals in college. He recounts their trip through Indonesia, where they got such bad food poisoning from the street food, they could barely lift their heads to look outside. Only to have the same exact thing happen the following week in Thailand.
As the conversation lulls, Harry’s gaze extends towards a bench off in the distance, tucked away in an alcove of willow trees and flower bushes.
They instinctively walk over in that direction. Briar sits, followed by Harry. Their bodies are pressed together again.
“I keep thinking about earlier today,” he says, fiddling with his hands. She smiles, looking over at him.
“Me too. I wouldn’t mind repeating it.”
“Yeah?” he says, smiling and inching closer to her.
“Yeah.”
Briar closes the gap this time, eagerly kissing into his mouth. Her hand comes up to cup his face. Harry deepens the kiss, using his tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. He eases up, opting to suck on her lower lip. They naturally break apart, her lower lip now red and plump.
“How far do you live from here?”
Harry is taken back by her forwardness. He’s picked up on her blunt nature, but she continues to keep him on his toes. His stomach twists in indecision, not wanting to move too quickly with her. She is, after all, a delicate little bird.
He’s quiet for a beat, surveying the look on her face, “Not far. Why? What’d you have in mind?”
“Well, you said you’re amazing at Scrabble. Let’s see you put some money where your mouth is.”
He smiles brightly, shocked at her answer. “Fine, you’re on. Don’t go crying when my stellar vocabulary comes out.”
He grabs her hand and guides her to stand up from the bench. They follow the path the way they came, passing an ice cream truck.
“Ooh! Do you want to split a cone?” she looks up at him, eyes the size of saucers.
“I’d love to. Which flavor?”
“Mint chocolate chip? Do you like that kind?”
“It’s m’favorite, actually,” he smirks at her, pulling out his wallet to give the worker a $10. He tells her to keep the change as she hands him the small sugar cone.
“We can stay here and eat. I’d hate to get it inside your car,” she says, staring at the black SUV across the street.
She’s sweet, thoughtful, and a little spicy. His favorite combination. He watches as she takes two delicate, kitten-like licks and extending the cone in his direction. He leans in to take his first bite, only for her to shove the cone in his face, causing both of them to erupt in giggles. She blots the napkin on his cheek to remove the mess.
“Fine, if we’re playing like that, don’t mind if I do,” Harry says, taking a large bite of the ice cream and cone, causing her to squeal.
“No! The cone is the best part!” Briar laughs, trying to steal what she can get.
They finish their cone, using Briar’s wet wipes from her bag to clean their hands and faces. Harry grabs her hand once more, guiding them to the car. Briar opts to link their pinkies together as they walk. Harry thinks it’s cute.
Their pinkies are locked for the duration of the drive, Harry dropping them only once to switch gears. They pull up to his place, a beautiful brownstone, clearly renovated in the last few years. His garage door opens as they get closer.
Briar waits for his lead, to which he pads around the front of the car to open her door. He leads her through the door to his mudroom, where he removes his shoes and socks. She follows suit, placing her bag on a hook by the door.
His decor is eclectic; warm, dark wood tones meeting bold colors, where appropriate. His walls are anything but bare; classic rock posters and delicate pieces of art litter every inch.
They arrive in his kitchen; a wide open space with updated appliances and gorgeous quartz stone countertops. His counters are neat, but certainly reflect a man lives there alone; various protein powders and supplements, along with raw fruits and even some tins of baked goods scattered around.
His attention is drawn to the room on the other side of the counter, where he hangs out the most. A TV hangs above the grand soapstone fireplace, where a large, L-shaped sofa resides.
“Head in there, I’ll grab us some water and grab the game.”
She smiles. While she’s happy to play Scrabble with Harry, she wouldn’t have minded he act on the double meaning of her self-invitation to his house. She’ll take what she can get.
Her eyes are drawn to his bookcase, filled with classics, new releases, and everything in between. She even spots Beach Read by Emily Henry. She chuckles to herself. She notices the abundance of Bukowski novels as Harry enters.
“Ya know, it’s a red flag when a guy is reading Bukowski,” Briar teases, running her fingers along the spine of one of the books, aware of Bukowski’s underlying theme of misogyny throughout his works.
“I’ve heard that. I think it matters more what you do with the topics he writes about, than the topics themselves. I read what he says, and go, ‘welp, won’t be doing that,’” he laughs.
He places the board game box down on the expansive coffee table. He doesn’t immediately open the box, in case Briar has other plans. She moves from the bookcase around the coffee table to sit on the sofa a respectable distance from Harry.
“How long have you lived here?” she asks, making note of the tall ceilings.
“5 years. I bought it in dilapidated shape and fully renovated it. The renovations took around 3 years. I lived with my friend, Ben, and his wife while it was being done. They had a nice attic apartment set up for me,” he recalls, smiling to himself.
“That’s really cool. What was your favorite part? The planning, the build, or the designing?”
“A little bit of everything. I was hellbent on keeping the historical integrity of the place, but it really only came to life when the finishing details came in. I’m really proud of the art pieces and trinkets I’ve picked up over the years, so I wanted everything to work well together.”
She hums at his thoughtful answer. “I don’t actually want to play Scrabble, you know.”
He smiles, looking directly at her, “I was hoping you’d say that, but I wanted to be a gentleman.”
She appreciates his honesty, and moves closer on the large sofa. Harry leans in again, this time, nudging her to sit in his lap. She clamors on, straddling over his legs. Their kiss deepens as she begins to strategically move her hips over his crotch.
He speaks between the feverish kisses, “I only wanna do what you're,” he kisses again, “—comfortable with, Briar.”
She pauses when she hears him say her name. She’s gotten used to the pet name, so it catches her off guard. “I appreciate that, but I’m good for anything, Harry.”
A groan catches in his throat. One day, down the line, she’ll wish she never said that. But today, he’s spoiling her in gentle kisses and slow movements. Before he even realizes, she peels herself off of him, kneeling in front of him on the ground and making a move toward his belt buckle. A few of the pillows slid off the sofa with her, creating a soft nest on the floor. He inhales sharply, recognizing there is no turning back in this fling with the beverage cart girl at his country club.
He pets at her hair, collecting the stray strands that lay on her face. She peers up at him, almost asking for permission. He runs his thumb along her cheek, encouraging her to keep going. In a perfect world, he’d be the one to pleasure her first, but there will always be time for that, he supposes.
She releases the buckle while unbuttoning his trousers, revealing his black Calvin Klein briefs. Briar runs her index finger along the length outlined by his underwear. He shudders, holding back a whine.
Briar releases him from the confines, preparing herself to come face to face with his size. She’s not the most sexually promiscuous girl, but she’s not a prude, either. His size intimidates her, she has to admit. Her two previous boyfriends’ dicks paled in comparison to Harry’s. But, she’s proud of her “can-do” attitude, so she continues on.
Briar wraps her small hand around him, eliciting the quietest moan from Harry, who’s patiently watching her from above. She peers back up at him before licking one cohesive stripe from the base to his tip, before swirling her tongue around the very top. She repeats the movement two more times before enveloping him in her mouth.
She nearly moans at the taste of him, plus the delicious girth stuffing her mouth to the brim. Her first move to fit more of him in her throat forces her to breathe through her nose and settle down a bit.
“Taking me so well, Birdie,” he grunts, laying his head back. “So fucking good.”
He can sense her lack of oxygen, so he taps her on the cheek to remind her to breathe. She peeks up at him, a lazy smile on his face. After a few more minutes, he grunts out, “Okay, baby, that’s enough.”
She pulls off of him with a pop, and one more tug for good measure. She stands, placing her hands on his knees, leaning in to kiss him again. He welcomes it, deepening the kiss once more. She loves when men kiss her after oral; she can’t say so about her past boyfriends.
He tucks himself back in his underwear, making her cock her head at him. He stands, pants still unbuckled, grabbing her hand to lock pinkies, assuming he’s leading her to his bedroom. Her suspicions are correct as they climb the staircase in the main entrance, yet another grandiose and impeccably designed room.
His room is the last in the dimly lit hall. She makes note of the hallway’s gallery wall filled with photos of Harry from all years of his life, and a few landscapes she assumes he took himself. She makes a note to ask him about them later.
He opens the door, revealing a cozy, neat bedroom. She can clearly see a balcony straight ahead that overlooks his small garden area out back. He pulls her to stand at the foot of the bed, kissing her.
He reaches to pull his shirt off, tugging it off by the neckline, revealing the tattoos she got a glimpse of at the club.
“Wow, I didn’t get to take a close look at your tattoos last time,” she jokes, running her hands along the mermaid on his forearm.
“You were looking, don’t lie to me,” he teases, placing his tongue in his cheek. He gently reaches out to remove her shirt, to which she complies, pulling it off, leaving her in her bra and trousers.
Harry can’t choose where to look first, her supple breasts, or her toned midsection. He takes a deep breath, before reaching for the button of her pants. She stands, like putty in his hands, allowing him to take control.
When she’s in just her bra and thong, he places his knee in between her legs, nudging her to sit on the bed and lay back. She reaches back to remove her bra, sending her breasts pouring out. Harry has to hold himself back from ogling her.
“So fucking hot. From the moment I saw you,” Harry says, adjusting his pants.
She slides back, awkwardly, until her head is closer to the headboard. He follows, elevating himself by his left arm in a plank position. He drops his knees to either side of her. He shuffles backward so his face is directly above her center. He looks down like a dog eyeing a bone, and gently lowers his face to kiss her on the outside of her underwear.
He plants her feet on the bed and pulls the fabric aside, revealing her glistening core, eyeing it hungrily. He looks back up at her, to which she smiles gently at him, a blissful look on her face. He takes a long lick, from bottom to top, receiving a whine from Briar in response. Her taste is already driving him wild.
She begins to squirm, to which he locks his bicep around her leg to keep her still. He sticks his tongue out, making contact with her clit, while using his other hand to pet her entrance. He looks up, the bottom half of his face buried in her, to see her head thrown back as she holds up her upper body on her elbows.
He inserts his middle finger into her, making her pant and move her leg.
“Relax, Birdie,” Harry says gently, bringing her mind back to him. He circles his tongue around her clit, seeing which side is more sensitive. Her response when he hit her left side tells him his answer. He continues his blunt attack as he feels her tighten around his fingers. He’s since added a second and third digit, lightly curling his finger tips to pet her G-spot.
“C’mon, Birdie, get there,” he encourages, his husky voice pushing her closer to the edge, his breath on her folds making her whine. One more thrust of his fingers has her shivering, turning the build up of pressure in her pelvis into a wave of pleasure. He rides her through it, slowing down his tongue on her clit.
Her facial expression is unreadable. She lowers her head back down to the bed, abruptly pulling her elbows out from under her so she collapses the rest of the way down. He uses this time to readjust himself in his briefs.
“Wow,” she breathes, wiping a little bit of sweat from her forehead. They both stay exactly where they are, catching their breaths, before Harry joins her on the upper portion of the mattress.
He’s laying on his side, hand under his head, creating a triangle with his arm, and gently reaches out to pet her side.
“You good? Do you want to go back downstairs?” He questions, taking note of her current state.
“What? You didn’t come…” she trails off, eyeing his crotch. He looks uncomfortable.
“Hey, it’s okay, I wanted to take care of you,” he assures. She stares at him before kissing him hard, tasting herself on his tongue. He takes that as her answer. Harry maneuvers so he’s above her once more, this time pulling her underwear down her legs, and taking off his own pants and briefs. While she gets comfy, he unwraps and rolls a condom down his cock.
He takes her legs and throws one over his shoulder, placing his hand next to her head. He guides his length so its aligned perfectly with her center. He pushes the bulbous head past the ring of muscle, exhaling as he does so.
“Oh, baby,” he grits out, trying to hold back from vigorously thrusting into her. He reaches out to grab her boob, flicking his thumb over her nipple. She shivers, squeaking out a sensual moan.
“Feels so good, Harry. Start moving please…” she begs, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure.
He completes a full thrust, staring at her core devouring him. He could watch this all day. He thrusts quickly, but not hard, hoping to get her to cum one more time. He takes more shallow thrusts before pinching her clit with his thumb and index finger. He can feel her clench around him, making that same blissed out face like the last time.
“Wish you could see how well you take me, sweet girl,” he coos, increasing the pressure.
She grabs his bicep, “There, right there, Harry, ah!” as she rolls into another orgasm.
“Good girl,” he praises, making her absolutely melt below him. He’s thankful it came quick, as he feels himself hit a wall.
He takes one last, long thrust before pouring into the condom. They’re still for a moment as Harry drops down to his forearm, petting the hair out of her face. He gently pulls out, rolling over to stand up and discard the rubber.
By the time he turns around, she is under his top sheet to give a little modesty, leaning against the headboard. He joins her, loosely covering his lower half with the sheet. He reaches out to pet her inner thigh, a touch she appreciates.
“That was…Something,” he laughs, looking over at her. “You’re incredible.”
“Thanks,” she says shyly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Harry reaches for his phone on the side table. It’s already well past 9PM. His hand extends to gently tap her thigh under the covers.
“I’d love to have you stay, but I totally understand if you’d rather go home,” Harry says with kind eyes.
“Thanks, yeah, I actually have to get home for my dog. It’s been a long day for him.”
“You didn’t mention a dog! I love dogs,” Harry smiles as she shows him her phone’s lock screen of Gus with his tongue sticking out. “He’s gorgeous.”
“I’ll drive you back to Wynnewood to get your car,” Harry offers, standing to throw his clothes back on.
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Briar responds, rising to go into the attached ensuite. For other hookups, she’d ask to use the bathroom. Something about her interactions with Harry feel natural, putting her at ease.
She can hear him say he’ll wait for her downstairs as she’s finishing up washing her hands. She does her due-diligence, checking the bathroom for signs of another woman; a razor, loofah, sweet smelling body wash. The coast seems clear.
Briar takes her time walking down that same hallway to admire the dozens of photos on the wall. She sees one of Harry with two women, one she assumes to be his sister, and the other, his mom. They’re both gorgeous, like him.
She pads down the stairs to find him at his kitchen island. He smiles, looking up from his phone.
“Ready to go, Birdie?”
“Yeah, I’ll follow you out.”
~
When they arrive at the club, it’s packed with the late night crowd. It’s never not a party at Wynnewood. Harry pulls the car into the same spot, adjacent to her Jeep. She lingers before getting out.
“I had a really nice time with you, Harry,” she smiles shyly.
“Me, too. I’d love to take you out again, or even just hang at mine,” he says earnestly, reaching to grab her hand. “I can give you a call tomorrow to plan something.”
She almost laughs, forgetting Harry is older. Normally, she’d wait for a Snapchat from a hook up, asking, ‘WYD?’
“Sounds good,” she says, leaning in for a quick peck. He gladly obliges. She reaches for the handle, opening the door to the Range Rover. There’s no one outside of the club, except for the valet boys.
“Bye, Birdie,” he says, smiling.
“Bye, Harry.”
She shuts the door and Harry smiles as he watches her unlock and get into her Jeep. He waits until she starts the car successfully. She gives him a cute little wave and carefully pulls forward. He follows her out of the parking lot, only parting to go in their respective directions toward home.
In the distance, a pair of watchful eyes see them leave the parking lot of Wynnewood, making note of the interesting pair.
~
When Harry wakes up the next morning, replaying yesterday’s events in his head, he can barely wipe the smile from his face. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. His nights have been filled with hook-ups with housewives in his pilates classes, and PTA moms from his niece’s school. He’s never been one to enjoy random hook-ups, but the last few years have brought significant amounts of stress his way.
Briar is special; full of charm, witty come backs, and all-around gorgeous. He thinks about the first moment he saw her at Wynnewood. Niall finally convinced him to return to the club after several years of bouncing around other courses in the area.
She was smiling brightly, washing the golf carts down with her co-workers. She has a way of bringing fun to even the most mundane tasks. Her golf outfit accentuated her features, matching his years’ long fantasy of hooking up with a girl that golfs. Whether she golfs or not, he’s unsure, but she looks damn cute in everything she wears.
He sends Briar a good morning text before jumping in the shower. She’s already at Wynnewood, filling him in on the drama he’s missing. The members should be featured on a Bravo show; the goings on are pure reality television material.
He spends extra time in the shower, easing his achey muscles. He’s played more rounds of golf in the last month than he has in his whole life, just to increase his chances of interacting with Briar. He feels a tiny, thumb-shaped bruise forming on his bicep, presumably from Briar’s grasp. He smiles.
His work days have been light recently, opting to delegate instead of jumping on the front lines of investing and trading. He’s been a hedge fund manager for a little over ten years, putting in the work to set him up for success for life. Many of his mentors and predecessors retired early, even younger than Harry, but he’s not quite ready to throw in the towel.
He responds to a few emails on his phone before entering his home office. Niall is coming over so they can strategize before a meeting. Their hedge fund used to have an office, but they opted to sell to give their employees the freedom to travel and work from where they please.
He hears Niall come in through the garage and make his way down the hall to Harry’s office. Harry is sat in his leather office chair and gives him a simple nod when he comes in.
“What’d you get up to yesterday?” Niall asks, plopping down in a seat adjacent to Harry’s. Niall and Harry spend an ungodly amount of time together, so he’s not surprised Niall asks this.
Harry hesitates, wondering how much he should share, or if Niall had somehow seen him and Briar yesterday.
“Um, not much, went to Wynnewood for a practice round in the morning, and then some random things in the afternoon,” Harry lies.
“Went to Wynnewood to see your girl Briar?” Niall smirks, crossing his legs at his ankles.
Harry runs his tongue along his teeth, holding back a smile, “Yes, I saw her there. She got me a nice drink and a snack.”
“Sure, buddy,” Niall laughs, pulling out his laptop and a pair of reading glasses.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps, furrowing his brow.
“You’re a little obsessed with her, is all. Ever since I got you back to Wynnewood, you’ve gone there hoping you run into her. Why do you think I requested her as our server when we met with Hassan and Jason?”
“I just thought you liked her. She’s a nice girl,” Harry huffs.
“She is a nice girl. If you like her, you should do something about it,” Niall reasons, looking at Harry directly.
“Fine. I took her out yesterday, and we came back here and we fucked.”
Niall’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open at Harry’s confession. He juts his lips out and nods his head as to say, ‘right on’.
“Do you like her?”
“What, Niall? Of course I do. I hope she wants to go out with me again. We’ve already been texting today.”
“Good shit,” Niall seemingly moves on, ready to talk business.
Harry laughs at Niall’s ability to switch gears completely and focus on work. Harry pulls up his slide deck and begins to review his notes from his last meeting.
~
Since her afternoon with Harry, Briar has been on cloud 9. She’s happy she didn’t shy away from Harry’s advances in fear of getting fired.
She woke up early to take Gus on a walk, and to feel out the slight soreness she has between her legs. It stings a bit, but is a nice reminder of Harry. She arrives at Wynnewood at a quarter to 7, ready to conquer the day.
She smiles at Harry’s good morning text, opting to tell him about the gossip she overheard as she passed the tennis courts. The tennis players at the club are way more wild than the golfers.
She heads inside to clock in at the register at the bar, where she finds Cam setting up for the day.
“Hey, B!” she yells.
“Hey, Cam,” Briar smiles, punching in her number. She walks around to lean on the bar.
“Harry and I fucked,” Briar whispers.
Cam’s head whips around, “Holy shit! When? Where?”
“Yesterday, at his place. He picked me up after my shift and we went for a walk at the public garden. Then I told him we should play Scrabble to invite myself over,” she snorts. “He actually got the game out in case I was being serious.”
“Good thing he’s not stupid. Next time you can ‘Netflix and Chill’ him.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to do that,” she giggles. She waves goodbye to Cam before heading back out to load up her cart. She adds another golf pun to her tip jar:
What did the sign above the golf club bar say?
“Don’t drink and drive. Don’t even putt.”
She chuckles to herself, turning on her string lights. She hopes Harry will swing by today. They’ve been texting lightly, but she doesn’t want to come off as clingy. Maybe she’ll call him on her break.
The day goes by as usual, returning to the clubhouse to stock up a few times. When she’s ready for a snack and some time in the shade, she pulls up to the familiar wooded area on near the 14th hole; her and Harry’s spot.
Briar looks around to make sure no one is nearby. She pulls out her phone and scrolls her contact list to find her fox.
Harry answers on the second ring, “Hi, Birdie, how’s your day? I thought I was supposed to call you?”
“Hi, Harry, it’s good. Well, you should assume by now that I’m not the type of girl to wait by the phone,” she teases.
“Silly me, I should have known. My day’s been good; reviewing a few possible investments and lots of emails. Niall just left my place, actually. Since we don’t have an official office anymore, he comes here sometimes.”
Briar hums, smiling to herself. She could listen to him tell stories all day.
“Listen, uh…” he trails off. Is he trying to push her off the phone? He was the one that wanted to follow up with her.
“Niall was kind of grilling me about where I was yesterday. I think he noticed I was a little hard to reach. So, I kind of ‘fessed up. I didn’t share anything in detail. I’m not that kind of guy,” he says, exasperated, not wanting her to think he’s a scumbag.
“Harry, Harry, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I told Cam, so, I think we’re even.”
He lets out a breath, relieved. “Okay, good. Again, sorry it happened like that.”
“It’s all good. What are you doing the rest of the day?” she asks, tapping the steering wheel of her cart.
“Umm, no plans as of yet, but, I’m not against making some — with you, if that wasn’t clear,” he stumbles. She giggles, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, that sounds good. I can come over? I can grab us dinner from somewhere, or bring something home from the club. I’ll probably be here later than usual, there’s some charity event that starts soon.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. You can schmooze the chef into cooking up something good, I’m sure.”
“Yes, Chef Lambo! He’s the G.O.A.T,” Briar squeals.
It takes Harry a split second to decipher what she just said. Greatest of All Time. Hm, one of those generational differences. He laughs, “Alright, Birdie, that sounds good. Well, I’ll let you get to it. I hope the golfers are treating you nicely.”
“Thanks, Harry, I’ll talk to you later.”
They hang up, and Briar continues on her route. The butterflies in her stomach stay with her all the way to the clubhouse. When her shift ends, she heads straight for the kitchen to find Lambo.
“Hi, Lambo,” Briar says, knocking on the frame of his open office door. “Have a sec?”
“Hi, Briar Baby! Of course I have a second,” he grins, inviting her in. Lambo is the nicest human she’s ever met. He went to culinary school after growing up homeless. Everything he has is through incredibly hard work. She admires him for that.
“Think you can whip up something good for me and…a friend…to eat tonight?” she doesn’t make eye contact with him when she says ‘friend’.
“Of course, baby. What are you in the mood for? Pasta? Steak? Is it a male ‘friend’?” he says, putting air quotes around friend.
Her cheeks heat up, knowing he’s figured her out. She nods.
“Well, I’ll think of some date night food while you go get changed. Come back in a half an hour and I’ll have it ready.”
“Thanks, Lambo, I owe you one.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you in a bit.”
She took her time getting ready in the locker room. She changed into a pair of leggings and threw on a Nike pullover. Nice and casual. When Briar returns to the kitchen, she sees her food packed up perfectly, with a note from Lambo:
Steak frites with broccoli rabe and scalloped potatoes. I included a brownie for dessert :-)
Enjoy! Be safe.
-Lambo
She smiles. She’ll bring him an iced coffee the next time they work together. She grabs the bag and exits through the back kitchen door that leads straight to the employee parking lot.
She pulls up to Harry’s house, parks, and retrieves the food from her passenger’s side. As she heads toward the front door, she hears a voice from his neighbor’s side of the fence. She sees a middle-aged woman watering plants on her front porch.
“Leave the food on the porch, hun! Read his sign about deliveries,” she says, rolling her eyes. Briar’s attention moves to the note on the door, scribbled in Harry’s writing.
Please leave all packages on the table to the left. TPWK.
She looks to the left to see a small glass table, with a basket full of snacks and drinks and another note, thanking the drivers. In fear of Harry’s neighbor calling the cops for lingering too long, she grabs a granola bar and books it back to her car. She calls Harry immediately.
“Hi, Birdie, you on your way here?” he asks, sitting on the foot of his bed, putting on a pair of socks.
“Um, I’m here, but there’s a slight issue. I was walking up to the front door, and your neighbor thought I was a delivery driver,” Briar says, mortified. “She told me to just leave the food.”
Harry starts to hysterically laugh, leaning down to pinch the outer parts of his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger.
“S’not funny! I was scared she was gonna call the cops if I lingered there. I even followed your instructions and left the food on the little table. These Karens are unbelievable these days.”
“Alright, I’ll come down and get you. Be there in one sec,” he says before clicking end.
He exits his house through the garage, opening the door to meet Briar on his driveway. He looks over to Maureen’s yard, finding it empty. Briar hops out of her Jeep and fast walks over to Harry.
“It’s okay, she went back inside,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. She reciprocates, before walking to his front porch to retrieve the food.
“That’ll be $47.91 plus tip,” she says with a straight face, before busting out into her signature giggle.
He shakes his head, following her into the garage before clicking the overhead door closed.
They eat and enjoy each other’s company. When Harry sees she brought home steak frites, he grabs a full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon from his wine cellar to pair it with. The two of them finish the whole bottle, and retire to his sofa for the evening, a little wine drunk and content.
They chat for a bit longer. He shares more information about his family and why he left the UK for college. She listens attentively, asking questions when necessary.
“What about you, Birdie, what was your life like growing up?”
She freezes. If she didn’t have 2 1/2 glasses of wine in her, she’d shut down any mention of her family.
“Um, well, my Uncle Patrick and Aunt Meredith actually raised me. Patrick is my dad’s brother. He passed away when I was young, like 5 or 6. My mom is still around, but she struggled with an addiction problem after he died. She and my dad knew each other since they were 14 years old, so she just couldn’t handle it.”
Harry instinctively offered a comforting touch on her arm. He let her continue.
“So, when she was struggling, my aunt and uncle got custody of me and my brothers; I have 3 older and 1 younger. But my mom is doing better now. She’s about 4 years clean, and actually just got remarried. He’s a nice guy and I think he’s good for her.”
“Did you still see her when you were growing up?”
“Yeah, it’s not like we were kept from her, but she always came to our house. We were never told of the details of where she lived, worked. Everything was kind of surface level.”
He pulls her in for a side hug, “Thanks for sharing that with me. I’m sure it’s not an easy thing for you to talk about.”
They’re quiet for a moment, her head on his shoulder.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Harry offers. He’s noticed Briar’s eyes gently close throughout the night, signaling her exhaustion. Poor thing. Those long hours at the club are probably taxing.
“Yeah,” she replies simply, nuzzling into his side. “You pick.”
“You want something scary? Or something easy to watch?”
“Easy to watch. I don’t like scary stuff, really.”
Harry puts on ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ before dimming the lights in the room on his phone.
She gasps, smiling bright, “This is one of my favorites!”
He smiles, “Mine, too.”
~
Briar jerks awake, frantically looking around the room to reorient herself. She remembers she’s at Harry’s and they fell asleep watching a movie. The screen is off, but she can still make out Harry’s sleeping frame from the street lamp out front. He looks like a dad asleep in a recliner, arms spread out, head back and mouth wide open, slightly snoring. She smiles at him fondly.
She pats around the sofa for her phone to check the time. 3:23AM. It’d be weird to leave, right? She thinks to herself. Or is it weirder that she stayed? This is only their second official hangout, but she already feels so comfortable with him.
He must sense she’s awake, because his breathing gets more shallow. His eyes peel open and he sits up, clearing his throat as he looks over at her.
“Briar? Are you okay?” he whispers, voice full of sleep and eyes puffy.
“Yeah, go back to sleep. It’s early. I just woke up and forgot where I was for a few minutes.”
“Well, let’s go upstairs. I’ll have to go to the chiropractor if I sleep like this any longer.”
She laughs. She doesn’t feel the age gap between them often, but when he says things like that, she can’t help but recognize it. They climb the stairs, his knees cracking on the way up.
“Are you comfy in those clothes? Or do you want one of my T-shirts?”
She ponders his question, opting for a shirt. He hands her a Def Leppard T-shirt, and she takes off her bralette before sliding it over her head. Harry is already in his bed, tucked under the covers watching her. She slides her leggings down to the floor and then joins him.
Harry surveys her expression, seeing if she’s sleepy, or full of energy. Before he woke up, he was having a wonderful dream that he’s now dealing with the physical ramifications of. Briar stares back at him, wondering if he’s looking for a hook-up, since they kept it pretty innocent last night.
She reaches out to paw at his waist, feeling his rock-hard crotch. She smirks, knowing she’s right. He inhales sharply, moving his hips towards her. Briar moves her hand past his waist band, dancing her fingers down his length.
Harry moans quietly, closing his eyes at her gentle touch. When he opens his eyes, she’s shuffling down the bed, disappearing under the covers. He feels his briefs sliding down his legs, coming to a stop just under his ass.
He rolls so he’s flat on his back, his knees slightly bent. Harry hears Briar gather spit in her mouth before gently wetting his cock with it. She starts by firmly grasping him at the base, before licking a stripe towards the top. This time, her free hand comes up to fondle his balls.
Harry’s eyes roll back in his head, before releasing a guttural moan. Briar smirks and repeats the movement, before lowering her head to stick them in her mouth one at a time. She pops off each one of them like a cherry, before returning to his cock. She sticks her thumb at his slit, rubbing the pre cum around gently. She envelopes him in her mouth, moaning at the fullness. She bobs her head up and down for a few minutes, before she feels his hand slam down on the bed, begging for mercy.
“Oh my goddd,” he slurs.
Harry runs his fingers through Briar’s soft hair, trying to hold off an orgasm. He can feel his lower region start to bubble, before shooting his cum into her mouth. She moans, collecting the sperm, before sliding her mouth off his cock and giving his tip one last kiss. She swallows, licking her lips while she stares up at him.
He’s bewildered. Perplexed. In awe. His head drops back down on his pillow, waiting for her to join him at his side. Her head pops back out from under the covers, smiling at him. He gives her a peck on her lips.
She rolls on her side and places her hand under her cheek, closing her eyes, “Night, Harry.”
“Huh? Let me get you back!” he pleads, still in shock.
“Nah, it’s good. I’m tired. Are you swinging by the course today?”
He rolls over to look at his phone. 4:39 AM. “I wasn’t going to, but that performance incentivized me,” he smiles, shuffling to make room for her.
She giggles, scooting over to lay her head on his chest.
~
Briar and her spry energy at 7AM makes Harry envious. He slept on the sofa for only a few hours and feels like he got hit by a bus. Oh to be in your 20s.
She’s rustling around in his ensuite, opening each drawer and closing them softly.
“Extra toothbrushes are in the bottom drawer,” He rasps out, trying to block the light from his eyes.
“Got it, thanks!”
She brushes her teeth, checking herself in the mirror. She pads back out to his bed, now occupied by Harry in the starfish position. She leans over him, pushing his hair out from his face.
“I’ll see you later?” she asks, sweetly.
“I think I’ll make an afternoon appearance. Gotta recover a bit. Drink some electrolytes.”
Briar rolls her eyes heading for the stairs, “Alright, I didn’t keep you out at an all-night rave. Bye, Harry.”
“Bye-bye, Birdie!” He shouts. “I’ve been waiting to say that one!”
Briar groans dramatically from the entryway, before closing the front door gently. He can get used to these kinds of mornings.
Since he’s up, he uses this time to head down to his home gym. He hops on his Peloton treadmill for a quick run, opting to listen to his playlist instead of the instructor’s. He sets a personal record, throwing a fist in the air when he earns his badge. His day is off to a great start, he thinks.
The morning goes by quick, and before he knows it, Harry’s getting dressed to head over to Wynnewood. He grabs green juice, one for Briar, and one for himself, from the organic grocery store down the street. He pulls up to the valet stand, tossing his keys to the boys.
Harry sets off toward the locker room to retrieve his clubs. He upgraded his locker to be able to keep his clubs there, instead of lugging them back and forth each time.
He arrives at the 5th hole for his designated tee time. The group ahead of him is playing at a less than ideal pace, so he grabs his phone to turn on a podcast. Instead of his usual finance show, he plays an episode of ‘Girls Gotta Eat’, per Briar’s recommendation.
He is a bit shocked by the raunchiness, but continues through the episode. He shakes his head, knowing that that show fits his girl’s personality perfectly. His girl. He likes that.
He hasn’t seen Briar anywhere. By the time he makes it to the 14th hole, he can see her cart parked in the wooded area — their spot.
Harry sinks the putt at 1 under — a birdie, of course, and then heads over to her. He hears her clapping and cheering for him. He places his clubs down a few yards away and saunters over.
When he approaches, she’s beaming.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Birdie. Were you waiting for me here?”
“Maybe. I saw your tee time on the list.”
He smiles, sitting down next to her on her cart’s bench. The course is relatively empty, so they don’t feel the need to hide.
They embrace in a passionate kiss, getting a little sloppy after a while. He pulls away, and Harry begins to stare straight ahead. Unsure, she follows his gaze, but sees no one.
She can feel his hand snake under her skirt, eliciting a gasp.
“Harry! Here?”
“Why not? No one’s around. We’ll be quick.”
He’s thankful she’s not wearing one of those skort things. The built-in pants confuse him and make things difficult.
His fingers dance at the crotch of her thin panties. He glides his middle finger up her slit, gathering the bit of wetness. He inserts his middle finger. He has yet to look at Briar, but he’s sure the look on her face is one of bliss, broken whimpers escaping her throat.
“Be a good girl and keep it down. Wouldn’t want to cause a disturbance,” he murmurs in her ear. They’ve only hooked up twice, but he feels like he can start to explore his more dominate side with her.
Briar whines, wiggling away from him. Harry doesn’t like that.
“Move again and I stop.”
“Okay,” she says quietly, wanting to cum already. She hasn’t even looked up to see if anyone is near them. At this point, she doesn’t even care.
He thrusts three fingers in and out of her center vigorously, but discreetly. His thumb moves backward to pet at her clit, increasing the pressure in her pelvis. After a few moments, she’s clenching so hard around his fingers. She comes just seconds later, releasing the sweetest whine, shoving her face into his shoulder.
Harry removes his fingers, straightening out her skirt, before lifting his fingers to his mouth, licking his index, before sliding it out and extending his other fingers out to her.
“Suck.”
She welcomes his fingers in her mouth, tongue swirling around them. She closes her eyes at how erotic this is, his dominance making her hornier.
He pulls his hand back, reaching for one of the wipes she keeps in the cart, acting as if nothing happened. She can see his bulge in his pants, so she reaches over to try and alleviate it.
“Ah, ah. No, Birdie. Settle down. You’re not allowed to touch unless I say.”
She whines at his dismissal, but she realizes he’s playing the role of the dominant. They haven’t had an explicit conversation about their likes and dislikes in bed, but this is a big fat LIKE on her part. Her experience with dominant and submissive roles is limited, having only been spanked by her ex-boyfriend in college. She’s a quick learner and will basically do anything Harry tells her to.
Harry cleans up and rises from the cart, casually looking around. The course is still empty.
“Well, I better get going. Be a good girl for me, Birdie. I’ll see you later,” he says, kissing her on her neck.
He walks off, leaving Briar speechless, as usual.
~
Harry finishes his round, shooting well under par. This is a great fucking day, he thinks, smiling to himself as he heads to the locker room.
He sees Briar’s uncle, Patrick exiting one of the conference rooms near the locker room.
They make eye contact, and Harry smiles, about to open his mouth to greet him. Out of no where, Patrick pins Harry up against the wall, his forearm crushing his windpipe.
“Woah, Patrick, what’s going on?” Harry panics, choking slightly.
“What’re you doing sniffing around my niece?” Patrick seethes, his face getting red.
Harry falters, unable to form a coherent sentence. “I—what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I saw her get out of your car the other night, right out front,” he whisper-shouts, not wanting to draw any attention to their altercation.
Harry is caught red handed.
“Buddy, I—,” Harry starts, before Patrick interrupts.
“Don’t ‘buddy’ me, we’re not friends. That girl is my entire life, and I’ll be damned if a rich prick like you takes advantage of her. Especially one twice her age! I knew giving her this job was a bad idea. It’s why I didn’t let her work here as a teenager.”
Since Briar filled him in on the details of her upbringing, he understands Patrick’s defensiveness. Their bond is close, as he had to step up as her father figure for most of her life. Patrick eases up the pressure he’s holding on Harry’s neck.
“Sir, I completely understand. But, I can assure you, this isn’t some fling. I’m quite fond of Briar. We shouldn’t have risked being seen here. I would hate for it to affect her job. But, I promise, there are real feelings here — for both of us,” Harry explains, his eyes a little wide out of fear of Patrick’s next move.
Patrick eases off of him, looking around to make sure no other members saw them.
“Fine, but I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re done for. Do you hear me?” Patrick threatens, staring straight into Harry’s soul.
“Understood.”
Harry retreats to the locker room, exhaling. He has an uneasiness in his stomach. He changes in record time, and books it towards his car. He shoots Briar a text:
🦊: Call me when you’re done your shift.
🐥: I will 🤠
He sits for a while, answering emails while he waits for her call.
He feels it buzzing, letting him know he has an incoming call from ‘🐥’.
“Hi! Are you still here?” she says, right as he picks up.
“Um, yeah, I’m still here. I’ve been sitting in my car,” he says, scratching the back of his head.
“Huh? Why?” she asks, unsure of what his answer will be.
“Why don’t you come here and meet me. We’ll sit for a bit,” he says, trying to remain ambiguous.
“Ummm, okay, I’ll be right there.”
They end the call, and Briar appears at the passenger’s side a few minutes later. She hops in, giving him a peck.
“What’re you doing?” she asks.
“We have a bit of a situation,” Harry says gently, turning to face her in the passenger’s seat.
A puzzled look crosses her face, “What kind of situation?”
“Patrick saw you get out of my car when I drove you back here the other night. So, he just cornered me in the hallway by the locker room and gave me an earful.”
Briar doesn’t even process Harry’s words before she’s furiously opening the door and storming towards the pro shop. Harry swallows thickly, panic bubbling in his throat.
He quickly follows her in, knowing he looks like such a pussy for telling on Patrick.
Patrick is helping a customer when Briar powerfully pushes the door open, causing everyone in there to look at her.
“UNCLE PATRICK,” she screeches.
Patrick’s eyes go wide, seeing his niece, red in the face, and the guy he threatened to kill just an hour ago right behind her.
“Folks, if we could just have a few minutes… Come back later and I can help you all out…” He says to the people in the pro shop.
They clear out quickly. Patrick leans back against the counter, presumably giving Briar the floor to speak. He’s learned over the years to let her get her point across before responding.
“Harry told me you threatened him, is that true? I’m 23 years old for god’s sake. Who I spend my time with has nothing to do with you. And what are you doing even threatening someone with physical violence at your work? Are you crazy?” Briar rattles off point after point, and Patrick just takes it.
“Good now?” Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Briar bear — Listen, I know I don’t have a right to say anything, but when something like this is happening under my nose, I have to speak up. I just worry about you, kid. I always will. I just want to do right by your dad. Yes, you’re a grown woman now, but he would roll over in his grave if I let this go without saying a word.”
“I think I got my point across,” Patrick says, staring directly at Harry. “Didn’t I?”
“Yes,” Harry says, moving closer. “Which is why you can kick me out of Wynnewood if I ever disrespect Briar. I’m very serious about my feelings for her, Patrick.”
Briar smiles softly. She’s calmer having Harry with her for this conversation. “Uncle Pat, please don’t tell anyone about Harry and me. We’re still going to follow the rules and not be overly friendly on the property,” Briar says, already lying. She and Harry were plenty friendly in the woods on the 14th hole.
Patrick ponders, before agreeing. He pulls her in for a hug, resting his chin on her head. He glares at Harry over her head, to which Harry cowers away a bit. He still won’t fuck with Patrick, even though he has no plans of letting Briar go.
The pair leave the pro shop, a few minutes after the other, as to not drum up suspicion. They climb back into his car, staring straight ahead in silence for a minute. Harry links their pinkies together.
“I like you all spicy like that,” Harry teases. “Like a little chihuahua. And Briar bear is so cute! Might even be cuter than Birdie.”
“Shut up.”
———————————————————————————
Tag list:
@awesomenavy @butdaddyilovehim-hs
Lmk if you want to be added!
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#Harry styles smut#fairway to heaven#daddy!h#daddy!harry
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His Curls (PedroPascalxreader) part 2
2.
You've been dating Pedro for a few weeks now. It was a wonderful time. You were literally floating above the ground. The man was sweet and romantic. He didn't invite you to any lavish restaurant on your first date. He invited you to a small Italian restaurant. It was a lovely place. The patio was surrounded by ivy who protect you two from prying eyes. There were little lights hanging above you that looked like stars.
You felt special and Pedro gave you his full attention.
Unfortunately, Pedro has been in New York for the last two weeks and you've been busy. Sometimes in the evening you were so tired you even have no streng to call him.
Today, however, he called you and begging to find a moment for him.
"Y/N, baby, please put me on your schedule. I have an interview to magazine today and they're going to take some pictures of me."
You bit your lip and looked carefully at your schedule.
"Ummm... I have half an hour free between 1pm and 1.30pm. Is that okay with you?"
"Sure baby. You're wonderful."
You were glad that you will see him. Though you'd rather see him outside of your work. You had everything ready before he arrived. Half an hour was a little time, but you believed you would make it.
Pedro burst in like a little hurricane. He immediately hugged you tightly, lifting you up. He spun around with you, making you laugh.
He kissed you on the cheek and said:
"I missed you so much, sweetie."
You patted his chest and shook your head.
"Sit down, we don't have much time."
However, as soon as he sat down, you started to look at his hairstyle.
"Pedro, your hair is perfect."
He nodded and looked at you innocently.
"I'm sorry about that little lie." He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you to him. "You work too much. I'm worried about you. And I really wanted to see you."
You stepped between his legs and placed your hands on his broad shoulders.
"I'm not angry for lying, but for betrayal." He raised his eyebrows. "You've been to another hair stylist in New York!"
He started laughing loudly and you straddled on his lap, facing him.
Pedro started to run his hands on your back and planted gentle kisses on your neck.
"Forgive me. I'll make it up to you somehow."
He started squeeze your breast with one hand. His lips pressed against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his head. As you tugged at his hair, he let out a muffled moan into your mouth and deepened the kiss.
His hands roamed all over your body while yours stayed in his hair. You broke the kiss just to catch your breath and connected your lips again.
You felt so great sitting on his lap, tugging at his curls and feeling the growing excitement in his pants, but... You shook yourself out in time. You have 15 minutes left. You really didn't want your next client catch you in such an intimate situation.
You broke away from Pedro with a groan of displeasure.
"We have to stop."
"No, honey," he murmured.
You gently stroked his cheek.
"We're running out of time, and I still have to do something about your hair."
You looked at his hair and smiled. His curls was really disheveled. You got off his lap and swiveled your chair towards the mirror.
Pedro chuckled at his reflection. You grabbed a comb and said:
"It would be so unprofessional if I let you out of here with hair like that."
But before you could start combing his hair, he grabbed your hand.
"Promise me we'll meet tonight. I'll pick you up after work. We'll go for a walk, then we'll grab some takeaway food and watch a movie."
"Sounds great." you replied.
Pedro smiled and finally let you tidy up his hair.
*
I had so much fun writing this :)
Taglist: @deansgirl79 @pedrotonin
Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/lionlena/717508629330296832/his-curls-pedropascalxreader
Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/lionlena/717696242092769280/his-curls-pedropacalxreader-part-3?source=share
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hi, I just came across your grocery post on how your ADHD task coping mechanisms don’t align with performing the task while medicated. Do you have any thoughts/advice for adjusting to doing work/job tasks when your previous coping mechanisms don’t work while medicated? As someone who was diagnosed after I finished undergrad, my coping mechanisms for finishing schoolwork tasks are to intentionally trigger RSD to trick my brain into making the consequence of failing the task greater than my executive dysfunction. This is 1) not healthy for me and 2) difficult because Adderall softens my RSD and emotional dysregulation. So where unmedicated I would panic and make an entire presentation the night before it was due, my medicated self sits there anxious the night before my work presentation but still incapable of starting the work. I’d love to hear your ideas on this if you have a moment (no worries if not, have a great day either way)
I hope it's okay I posted this! My readership may also be able to offer suggestions. (Readers, remember to comment or reblog, as I don't post asks sent in response to other asks!)
So, as the kids say there's a bit to unpack here...I do have some coping mechanisms to offer, although I have a strong policy of "do what works for you" so if these aren't helpful, please don't feel as if you've somehow failed -- these are just what works for me. If they don't work for you, that may be a good jumping-off point for thinking about what would, but they simply won’t work for everyone.
First, I want to say that while I'm not a psychiatrist or a doctor, it sounds like it's possibly an issue with the medication. If it's working well enough to help with your RSD but not well enough to help with the action paralysis you're describing, it could be you're on the wrong medication or the wrong dosage of it. So above all I would strongly recommend talking about this with your prescriber to see what they say. This may be as simple as a tweak to your prescription. My psych has me on 10mg immediate release at 8am and 1pm, but after discussing the rhythm of my day he has also given me permission to occasionally take 20mg at 8 and no second dose. 20mg is an option if I’m tired or struggling and gives me a little extra push to get stuff started and/or completed, and it helps a great deal, but it’s not always needed.
As for solutions to the actual issue...so, I know that with ADHD it's often the case that once you start something, you may be able to focus deeply on it and bang it out very quickly, like you have been doing. Also can I say, using the RSD to kickstart the executive function is a wonderfully imaginative workaround but sounds super unpleasant to do, so I'm sorry you've had to do that. Anyway, I think people who are capable of doing this, of kicking into action and completing a very complicated task all at once, tend to think that's the only possible way to do it, because it’s the only way that has worked in the past. So I have two suggestions.
The first is to try and reframe the project as something you can work on before the last minute, now that you have medication helping your executive function along. You can try, for example, saying “I’d like to get some work done on this thing that’s due a week from now” and just see how far you get. This can be tricky and can lead to a lot of guilt if you can’t manage it, which I want to stress a lot of people can’t. But if you are capable of saying to yourself “I’m just going to work on this a little”, every time you do that, it gets slightly easier because you know you’re not starting from the beginning. I have sometimes set alarms to be like “Okay, I’ll take my meds at 9:30. At 10am, as they’re kicking in, the alarm will go off and I’ll work on the project a bit.” It could be that you are now capable of spreading the work out over time, but you haven’t been doing that simply because you’re so accustomed to being unable to.
In some sense it’s a matter of identifying what the medication does for you and adjusting that to help you in your life. ADHD meds can have varying effects -- they can help you start stuff, they can help you focus, they can keep you from running around full of excess energy, but they don’t always do everything for every person. So if you know that your meds help you focus but don’t necessarily help you start on something, maybe you need someone to body-mirror you to help get started. If the meds calm you down, maybe use the calm time to set up your workspace and arrange everything so that it’s easier to get started later. Identify the changes the meds make and try to strategize around those changes. Like how without meds at the grocery store I have trouble finding things, whereas with meds I tend to get stalled out taking in all the information. So maybe I need to be at the tail end of a dosage period when I go, or maybe I need to make a list that includes BRANDS so that I’m not label-comparing, and tell myself I will not browse. Or give myself extra time so I can do those things!
The second suggestion may be more helpful, but it too involves doing preliminary work early on. This is one I do when I have something I’m not feeling confident about, but you can do it about anything even if you WANT to do it but can’t seem to get going.
As early as you can, set up some time to sit down and make a list of all the granular parts of a project, rather than doing the project itself. This isn't universal, some people stress out about lists, but it can ease the path towards starting if you think you don't have to do "a project" all at once. If you're making a power point presentation, your list may be something like
Open Powerpoint. Open prompt for presentation. Open research website or get out research books. Read research (just one!). Read research (another). Repeat until finished. Review and develop ideas for the presentation. Make an outline for what the presentation should be. Pick out a template for the slides. Begin entering text into slides.
Et cetera. I've found, and you may too, that once you've started making the list, or once you've gotten to step 3 or 4 of actually doing the list, you're on a roll and the rest comes naturally. Like, I can't do this fucking project! But....well, okay, I am capable of just....opening powerpoint. And once I've done that I can start knocking down the rest, a little at a time. I think it is very hard for people with ADHD to learn how to segment out work that they feel “goes together” over time, like we are always under the impression we have to do The Whole Thing Right Now. Learning to orchestrate smaller steps, with the help of medication, is one way to spread the work out.
But yeah -- all of this is predicated on the idea that the medication can help you get started and focus enough to keep going. If it can’t do that, then the problem is not with you but with your meds. Learning how to observe your medications’ effects, and learning how to use those to your advantage, will be more helpful than any tips or tricks I can provide, in any case, but making sure they’re actually doing the job is first and foremost.
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how would the oou characters react to getting sick cus i can js see cooper like 'eh its not that bad' and kris like 'its 1pm. and your eyes are still watery and you sneeze after ever sentence dont sit here and tell me youre not sick'
OMG That scénario is so cute!! I can definitely imagine cooper and kris acting like that!
I think for the others it’s definitely a “I’m not sick” “yes you are” situation aswell.
For Maeve and Luis, Maeve is definitely the stubborn one, but you know that Maeve is sick whenever she gets REALLY clingy, especially with Luis. Maeve will never admit she is sick, even if her head is in the toilet after she has just been sick, but she will always be wrapped up in her duvet, soup in one hand, tissues in the other. With Luis holding her.
When Luis gets sick, he would definitely stay st home, and not let Maeve near him, because he doesn’t want her to catch his sickness bug. However, in the end Maeve wins him over with her mom’s special soup recipe.
For Nate and Bronwyn, they very much take care of eachother. Initially, Nate has no clue what to do when bronwyn gets sick, but after the first few times, he’s pretty much on the ball. Warm oat milk, hot water bottle, and those gummy pain killers. He makes sure her hair is held back whenever she is sick. He knows what movies she likes to watch. And no matter what, he doesn’t leave her side.
Both Bronwyn and Nate don’t outwardly admit they’re not sick, but they will both go about their day pretending they’re fine. When Nate gets sick, Bronwyn turns into his personal doctor. Nate loves taking care of her, but he hates Bronwyn fussing over him. Typical really. But, like him, she never leaves his side.
With Addy and Keely, they both straight up admit they’re sick. It’s the female intuition of knowing you’re gonna fall ill. They’ll text one another, and 20 minutes later a care package is at the other’s door. I don’t think they’d be the kind of couple that initially stays with each other through the sickness, but they would call and text constantly, and be in touch with their parents. But because of the care packages, they know they’re loved.
I’m genuinely not too sure about Knox and Phoebe, but if @izzielizzie or @glitterandgoldrush have any ideas, please let me know!
#one of us is lying#nate macauley#oouil#bronwyn rojas#natewyn#cooper clay#addy prentis#maeve rojas#addy prentiss#luis santos#kris bekker#one of us is next#one of us is back#phoebe lawton
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Anything for You, Darlin’
- - -
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 1, 513 words
Warnings: Fluff, Language, Elvis getting sentimental & emotional (it’s a good warning though),
Author’s Notes: hello everyone! I’m starting a tag list for this series! If you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters, comment on this post! @mslizziesblog
- - -
Chapter 14
September 16, 1977- 11:30AM
The ride to the Peabody Hotel seemed to take forever, but it didn’t. Elvis made sure that you, John, and baby Kennedy were alright the whole ride there. When you finally arrived, Elvis got out of the car first and then he opened the door for you. No matter how big he got in music or movies, he was always a true, southern gentleman.
The press conference wasn’t until 1PM, but Elvis wanted to make sure everything and everyone was ready to go, including you. He sent Jerry to get Mallory and Elvis Jr. from school so they could join in. While you two were waiting on the oldest two children to arrive, you and Elvis were in a private hotel room with John and Kennedy. John was sleeping away while you held Kennedy. While you were in the bedroom with your two youngest children. You could hear Elvis mumbling something to himself. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could tell something was on his mind. You made sure both John and Kennedy were asleep before you walked out into the living room to check on your husband. His icy blue eyes were filled with worry and fear. You walked over to him.
“Elvis, is everything alright?”
“Yes Satnin, I’m ok. I’m just nervous that’s all”
“Babe, I can tell by the look in your eyes that it’s not nerves. What’s bothering you?” He turned around to see the true concern for him in his eyes. Elvis knew he couldn’t lie to you when it came to what was on his mind.
“(Y/N), I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m scared. I’m scared that they’re gonna ask me about what happened to you. I don’t wanna relive the day that I-I-I almost…. lost.. you…” Elvis couldn’t get anymore out before he started crying. You hugged him tight as the tears started to flow. You got him to sit down on the couch before the sobs came out. He clung on to you a child to a teddy bear. At first you didn’t know what to say, but you remembered something he said during the filming of the ‘68 comeback special: when things get too hard to say, sing. You softly began to sing to him.
“Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you…..”
His sobs slowly turned into sniffles as he focused on your voice
“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin if I can’t help falling in love with you?”
Elvis finally looked up at you. His blue eyes were still filled with tears. You ran your fingers through his jet black hair and kissed the tears away from his cheeks. He sat back up on the couch and took you into his lap so he could hold you.
“Satnin, thank you for alway being there… I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you baby girl.”
“I love you too babe.”
The two of you stayed in that spot until both of you heard crying. You know that it was Kennedy just from the sound of the cries.
“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere babe.” You went to go get Kennedy and when you came back, Elvis was fully sitting up looking at you with a small smile on his face.
“There’s my little baby girl. How was your nap Kennedy?” He knew she couldn’t answer him, but it was so damn cute seeing him interact with her in every little way.
“I’d say she probably slept good, but she’s hungry so you know what that means.” You looked over at him with a smirk on your face.
“Doll, you know it doesn’t matter me. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Elvis smirked right back at you. He sat there with you while you fed Kennedy. Elvis always admired how quickly you fell into the role of being a mother. He loved seeing you tend to his babies. His ring clad hands ran down your arms to help support you until Kennedy needed burped.
“Give her to me darlin, I don’t want anything getting on your outfit now.” He softly picked her up and started to burp her. You swore that he was a freaking baby whisperer because it only took him a minute to burp Kennedy whereas sometimes it took you five. After he burped her, he cradled her back into his arms.
“I must say Satnin, we have made the prettiest babies this world had ever seen. I mean just look at her. She’s your twin baby doll, all the way down to her little nose.”
“Elvis how do you know that she has my nose? She’s only a month old babe.” You replied to him.
“Satnin, go get my wallet and I’ll show you.” You walked over to the nightstand to get his wallet. It was black and worn from the years of usage. “Baby do you remember the pictures you gave me before I left for the army? Well, I still have them, but one I always keep with me at all times to remind who my first baby girl was.”
You went through the pictures to the find the one he was talking about it. The picture was slightly torn around the edges but it was clear as day: it was of you as a little baby, no more than three months old. You gave him that picture before he left for Germany because he wanted pictures of you so he keep you close to his heart. You were shocked that he still had it after all these years.
“See right here doll it’s clear as day. Kennedy Grace has your little nose.” He said with pride.
“Elvis, after all of these years, you still have my baby picture? Why?”
“Satnin, that picture kept me going. It kept me going when I was in the Army. When I was making those silly movies. When I didn’t feel living anymore, it gave me hope. It reminded me the promise that I made myself years ago: to give that little girl in the picture the world.”
“Elvis, you have given me the world. You’ve made all my dreams come true. I love you Elvis Aaron Presley.” You kissed him on the lips and smiled at him. Just after that kiss, Jerry came through the door with Mallory and Elvis Jr. They both ran up to and jumped in your lap. Before long, it was for the whole Presley family to come out for the press conference. The six of you waited in the hallway leading up the main lobby while Steve Binder addressed the media first.
“First of all, Elvis and I want to thank everyone for coming out today. I also want to thank the Peabody Hotel for letting us use their beautiful facilities for this press conference.” Binder also announced the dates of the rescheduled tour, along with a few international dates. “Now, without farther a do, here’s the man you all are waiting for: Elvis come on out!”
Usually you would wait for Elvis to come get you after a few minutes into these press conferences, but this time, Elvis wanted you and the kids to come out with him. You and Elvis walked out with all four kids in tow. Like always, Elvis pulled out the chair for you and made sure you were comfortable. Elvis got himself situated and began to speak.
“Thank you everyone for coming out. I wanna thank Steve Binder for being the best manager I could ever ask for. Give him a round of applause.” The whole room applauded while Steve took a small bow. “Now, let’s begin with the questions.” You could tell he was nervous so you squeezed his hand under the table to let him know that you were here for him.
The usual questions about the tour and performing were asked. They asked how you were feeling and how recovery was going. Then Elvis proudly showed off the newest Presley, Kennedy Grace. No matter how many awards he won, his family was his greatest accomplishment in his life. The press conference lasted for about forty-five minutes and was a huge success. Elvis was beaming with excitement that he would get to perform in front of a live audience because let’s face it: singing and performing was always gonna be in his blood.
After you, Elvis, and the kids got loaded in the limousine to head home he gave you the biggest kiss on the mouth. Of course Mallory and Elvis Jr screamed “EWW” at the two of you but he didn’t care so he kissed you again. The ride home was filled with the giggles of your children and Elvis loving on you like there was no tomorrow. In many ways, he was still that same Elvis you met many years ago. Head over heels in love with you. You were his heaven on earth. His safe place.
#elvis presley#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis x reader#austin elvis x reader#elvis fluff#dad!elvis#elvis fanfic#elvis smut#austin elvis smut#austin!elvis x reader#anything for you darlin
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Does anyone else ever think about time zones in Star Wars. Like. You’re on Star Wars Discord and it’s 9pm on Coruscant. It’s 2am on Naboo. It’s 4pm over on Corellia. It’s 3am on Alderaan. Oh and also since some planets are bigger/smaller, closer/father from the sun, has multiple moons/suns so now not only is time different, but dates are totally different because by the time 1 day has passed on Tatooine, 3 have passed on Coruscant, oh and it’s summer on Belsavis, Spring in Naboo, winter in Corellia. Good luck chatting to your friends over SW discord, and getting fast replies. And Good luck planning outings with your other planet friends during your Summer Break in high school cause it’s totally different time, date, and season everywhere else. So anyways what a nightmare. And even if you say like, “the date is standardized everywhere to match Coruscant.” Can you imagine how wild it must be to go to work, it’s 1pm in the afternoon, but it’s 12am on Coruscant, so the freaking date changes in the middle of the day for you, and it’s just…. Crazy like that all over the galaxy. Imagine being on a planet where the days last for like 6 standard Coruscant days and you have to mark your calendar like 6 different times throughout every day. God forbid you have an appt to get to cause a single day is like a whole ass week according to standard Coruscant time. And like, some races in Star Wars live a LONG ASS time. So it’s feasible that there’s an extraterrestrial on a planet with 200+ hour long days and they just wake up, go to work for 200+ hours, live their lives as normal etc. except the date changes like 6 times while they’re at work. What the fuck
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An Unambiguous Love [10/10]: Rescue Mission
1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 ::
alternate AO3 link
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x f!Reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Your favourite customers really make it easier returning to the town you never went to school in. If only your friends at work would stop trying to play matchmaker between you.
Chapter 10 word count: 3608
A/N: And that's a wrap! I really hope you've all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I loved writing it. I have two oneshots in this universe already planned, but if there's anything in particular y'all want to see, feel free to prompt it!
The next day, you’re busy moving the oldest of the “new releases” rack to their respective aisles when you hear Jesse clear his throat behind you. “Oh, jeez!” you press your hand into your chest. “Oh, you scared me. You good?”
“Uh, yeah! I was… I was going to ask, I know you’re not in this Saturday, so I was wondering if you wanted to hang -”
You interject, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I’m just… Not in a great place right now, I wouldn’t be good company one-on-one.”
“It wouldn’t be!” Jesse replies hurriedly. “It’s… A whole bunch of us. From here. Like a staff appreciation thing. We’re closing early, everyone’s coming, it’s a whole thing. You wouldn’t need to be “good company”, you can just show up and then be a part of the group, if that makes you more comfortable.”
You sigh with relief. “You know what? Hanging out with everyone here, without work hanging over us… That might just be exactly what I need,” you nod. “Yeah.”
“Awesome!” Jesse claps. “Uh, so Saturday, at the complex, 1pm, we can go get food, watch a movie, just hang out. See you then?”
[...]
You’re so excited to get to see all your work friends outside of work, for once. You’re rambling on about it to your brother, who tells you that he misses your other friends. He likes it when they’re here to visit. You tell him that you still do, too, but that it’s okay for you to have more than one group of friends. You still dread to think what life is going to be like with both Steve and Eddie again after kissing the two of them individually, without any inkling of which way to decide between them, if at all.
You put those thoughts away for now, though. Now, you’re going out with other friends. None of this drama has to exist around them. You guys can all just have fun and be nerdy together. Even Cameron’s been actively chatting to you about things these days. The first real conversation you’d had with him a week prior, where you'd both talked about your excitement for the next instalment of Elvira due to come in, truly made you feel like you were an instrumental part of the team.
You find a relatively central space inside of the theatre entrance and await any familiar faces. The boy that knows Nancy is here too, looking at you. It's a tad unnerving, but you try and look away, especially when he slowly reaches for the phone handset on the wall.
Jesse is the first to show. He greets you warmly, trying to pull you in for a hug. You've never really hugged him before, so you're in unfamiliar territory here, but you comply nonetheless. He's constantly trying to make small talk, which you reply with vague sounds to as you eagerly look around, getting more and more desperate as time goes on
Eventually Jesse looks at his watch. "I don’t think anybody else is coming."
You narrow your eyes. "Not even your sister? Didn't you bring her with you?"
"Hm? Oh, of course, I meant to say. She decided to spend time with friends from school instead. And come to think of it, I vaguely remember Cameron saying something about not making it either. I assume since he isn't here now either that Ralph has bailed without warning, so maybe we should just get some food, the two of us?"
"If it's all the same to you, I- I might just… Go home, like I said, I’m not great company on my own right now,” you falter.
Jesse holds your arm, “Come on, don’t sell yourself so short! Let’s at least get something to eat while we’re here, right?” he grins, almost unsettlingly.
You go to protest, but your stomach betrays you as it makes a loud rumbling sound. “Alright, we’ll get some food and that’s it, okay?”
—[ meta ]—
Nancy’s busy tidying up when Mike bangs on her bedroom door. “Pick up your phone! It’s that guy from the school paper!” he shouts through it.
She picks up her receiver. “Fred? What’s going on?”
His tone is heavy with an arrogant smugness. “Just wanted to let you know that I was right, all along. You were setting your friend up with those two, Harrington and the freak -”
“Fred.”
“And I said, maybe you were wrong, and that there was no romantic interest there at all? Guess who’s getting cozy with another man. Hugging him closely and everything.”
"I don't… Another man? Who?"
"Do I look like Hawkins' ultimate socialite? How should I know? Either way, I think you sho- oh."
"What? What 'oh'?"
"..."
"Fred?!"
"She does not look as happy being here as he is. Keeps looking around."
"Fred. Answer me honestly. Does it look like she's in danger?"
"The guy is trying to stay in close proximity to her, but she doesn't look like she wants that."
"Fuck. Okay. I'm hanging up now. Don't do anything stupid, just… Get her some help if it looks like he's hurting her."
Nancy hangs up the phone and immediately calls Family Video.
~~~
Meanwhile, at the video store, Steve has been pacing the aisles, wanting nothing more than to talk to Robin about what happened between him and Y/N, but all six kids are around and he would rather have the ground swallow him whole than have a bunch of freshmen be his romantic counsel.
He jumps at the chance to answer the phone, "Y'ello, this is Family Vi- Oh, hey Nanc- ... Uh, I don't know, a couple of days ago, why?"
As he's asking that, Eleven pulls Dustin over to the window, points over at the comic book store and then at the clock, looking puzzled. Dustin also looks confused, adding a, "That's weird."
"What is?" Robin asks.
"Y/N told me and El on Friday we wouldn't be able to buy anything this afternoon, because the store was closing early so all the staff could go out. But it's that time now, and it doesn't look like it's closing."
Robin's face falls. "Nobody else has said anything about closing early today."
Steve's face widens in horror. He interrupts Nancy’s retelling to ask, "Nancy, did Fred say anything about who that guy could be? ... Do you happen to know of a guy named Jesse? Fuck, there's no time, shit!" He hangs up and hops over the counter. Only one thought crosses Steve's mind: I can't do this without him. On his way to the door, he calls out. "Robin! I need you to call Eddie, tell him to meet me at the theatre ASAP, immediately, right now."
Robin looks perplexed. "But you're you, surely you can handle this jerk, why do you need Eddie?"
Steve spends almost every ounce of restraint he has on thinking before he speaks. He's barely been coming to terms with his own sexuality for weeks now. The only one who might understand is standing right in front of him, but so are six teenagers, still practically children, to whom he does not exactly want to explain the complexities of his feelings of attraction. Instead, he simply looks at his best friend, panicked, and yells, "BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN LIKE CATS AND DOGS, ROBIN." before running out to his car.
The kids all look at each other, confused, before plastering themselves to the glass to watch Steve speed away. Robin, on the other hand, finally feels as though everything about this entire mess she's been meddling in now makes sense. It's never been Steve versus Eddie, vying for Y/N's affections separately. It's always been the three of them. That's when they're at their happiest. That's who they're most comfortable around. That's what the answer's been all along. Steve and Y/N and Eddie.
Quickly finding the number, Robin hurriedly dials Eddie's phone number. As soon as it stops ringing, Robin starts, "Ed, hi, no time. You need to go to the theatre, now. Y/N needs you."
"Me? Why not Steve, isn't he with you? What's the panic?"
"Not anymore, he ran out and asked me to call you. Look, Eddie… I get it, okay? Right now, Y/N needs you both. And I know Steve needs you and her, and you need the two of them, too, alright? Just… Please? For them."
"...On it."
Robin slams down the phone, and looks at the kids. "Which of you feels like reporting that creep to his manager?"
—[ end meta ]—
"Hey, hey, what's the rush? You'll make yourself unwell again, eating that quickly," Jesse chuckles. "And besides, at least now you're paying me back the time I spent covering for you, right?"
You look puzzled. "But I did extra for you on my first day back, I was only supposed to be on opening but I closed as well so that you didn't have to.”
"True, but I covered more than one shift for you, didn't I? My time is precious too, sweetheart." The pet name cuts through you like a poison-tipped blade. That word only belongs in Eddie's mouth.
Still, you carry on eating in silence, barely making eye contact with him. He still keeps trying to engage you with inane talk about work. He mentions that he heard from Cameron that you're interested in Elvira, but apparently, the House of Horrors franchise is already not to Jesse's liking, and he's subjecting you to learn how in excessive detail.
When you both finally finish eating, you hurriedly make your way out of the eatery when he takes hold of your arm, "Did you see Highlander, by the way?"
Relief washes over you, and boy, in this moment, does it feel good. "Yes! I have! I've already seen it, not 100% sure it was my kind of movie, though."
"Oh, it's my personal policy that you should see every movie twice before forming a full opinion. There's a showing in about 20 minutes," he looks at his wristwatch.
You groan, "It's nice of you to offer, and all, but I really feel like I should just go back home and rest up, y'know? Like I said, I only really felt up to being in the background of a group hangout rather than be super present -"
"So, what's the difference between sitting and watching a movie, and sitting at home? You know, I really feel like you're not giving me a chance here, I've done nothing but welcome you since the first day you started. I invited you straight into my campaign, which you left after the first arc. You talk to everyone else, my sister goes to visit you, when you've got a far more age-appropriate person to invite over standing right in front of you -"
You interject, "Tiff came over because she asked one of my friends whom she also knows to take her. She took that initiative herself."
"Oh, your friends," he sneers. "Do you mean the ones who sneak away from work to talk about you behind your back?" Your face falls. "Yeah, they all do it. Making creepy little comments about those… Boys that hang off every word you say," Jesse's tone fills with venom. "Please, what business does Steve Harrington have at a place like ours? You know how many women he goes through? And then he thinks he's got free control of the market in our store, the one place I might find somebody worth talking to. And when I finally do, of course he shows up. And Munson? That freak? What could he possibly off- Oh," you don't like the sound of that. "He's using his drug supply on you, isn't he?!"
"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Jesse. I'm leaving," you turn to walk away, but he grabs your wrist with more force, pulling you towards him.
"No! I deserve just as much of a fair shot as anyone, especially those two. You at least owe me that mu- AUGH!"
The next five seconds happen so quickly you can barely register them. Two arms clad in leather wrap over you, holding you tightly as someone with a perfect mop of hair tackles Jesse to the ground. You hear the familiar dulcet tones of Eddie soothing you quietly in your ear. He starts leading you backwards as Steve stands up from the floor, brushing himself down and looking over at you both with a reassuring smile.
Jesse soon stands up as well, shouting, "What the hell is your problem, Harrington?"
"My problem," Steve illustrates every point of emphasis with a shove into Jesse's chest, "is that you, think you're owed the world, because you tell people you're nice while being the most obnoxious asshole around."
“Oh, come on, Harrington, be a man, won’t you? You know you want to punch me,” Jesse sneers.
Steve scoffs, “What, so you can go running to your boss, and tell him you weren’t to blame, that Y/N is, and get her fired, just because a weasel like you can’t take no for an answer? Please.” He grabs Jesse by the front of his shirt, and pulls it up high, leaning in close enough for their noses to almost touch, as he growls, “You’re going to leave now. You’re either going to tell your boss that you can’t work any more shifts with Y/N, or that you’re going to quit outright. Or else things are not going to be pretty for you. Got it?” He drops Jesse, who collapses onto the floor. You hide a giggle behind your fist, and lean into Eddie, who wraps an arm around you and slides his fingers into your hair comfortingly.
Steve turns to see you both, and he smiles warmly at the sight as he approaches you both. As he’s walking towards you, Jesse stands and yells, “Still too chicken to fight after all these years, Harrington?! C’mon, why not try and give your daddy something he can be proud of you for, for once?”
You feel yourself getting angry over that, but it’s nothing compared to what you see from Eddie. You feel him tense beneath you, and you look up to see him seething. His fingers start to curl up until he realises he’s still embracing you. He looks down and softens his grip, trying to look reassuringly at you, but you put a hand on his chest and look defiantly up at Eddie. “Hey,” you whisper up at him. “Just… Do it. Kick his ass.”
Eddie kisses your forehead before walking off, placing a hand on Steve’s stomach briefly as he walks past him. You reach out to Steve to pull him towards you, hugging him closely. You both watch on as Eddie marches over to Jesse, moving the rings from his left hand onto his right and forming a fist. “Oh, so she’s leading you on as well, is she, freak? Maybe I ought to back off, who wants a sl-”
The next moment happens in slow motion. You watch every single one of Eddie’s rings dig into the side of Jesse’s face, dragging his skin with them as his arm swings in front of him and his fist collides with Jesse’s cheek. You watch his skin tear as a bruise already starts to form below his eye.
A security guard strides over to drag Jesse back by his jacket. “Alright, alright, let’s get you kids out of here.”
“Didn’t you see! That guy attacked me!” Jesse shouts, pointing over at Eddie.
“I saw you try and restrain this poor young woman first,” the guard points out. Steve opens his mouth, looking both shocked and offended, most likely at how the guard must have noticed but still didn’t intervene. Not wanting to cause any further drama, you hold Steve back and wave at Eddie to get his attention and call him over. He joins you, and the three of you embrace for a while, completely ignoring the amount of eyes that are on you.
Eventually, Steve pipes up, “We should, uh, we should get outta here. We should get you home safe.”
You pull back to finally notice what he’s wearing. “Oh my god, are you meant to be working right now?!”
He waves off, “Eh, that’s not important. Robin’s got it all under control over there.”
“M-maybe we should all go, to my work,” you look between him and Eddie. “Explain to Cameron what happened before he can twist things."
Eddie frowns, "I'm sure we can just do that over the phone, sweetheart. I'm with Steve, I think we need to get you back to your own place."
Your face contorts a little, and both boys look at you with concerned confusion. A hint of amusement laces your tone as you admit, "I know it's probably less safe for Eddie to leave his van unattended, but I'm not sure I can stomach finally experiencing his driving for the first time."
"I'm not bad!" he frowns, to the tune of yours and Steve's laughter. "Fine. I'll be the most careful driver you've ever seen. Promise."
True to his word, he drives at the limit, stops at every sign, constantly looks over to check on you both. But, as you're learning, it's not necessarily the way Eddie drives that causes unrest in his passengers. Between his poor suspension, less-than-padded seating and the seatbelts either not locking at all or pinning you to the back of the seat, even the most careful driving has made for a pretty meagre experience. Eddie has a hand on your knee the whole drive, as Steve holds your hand. The feeling of safety that brings you almost outweighs your discomfort. Almost.
When you get back, you quickly glance into your living room to greet your family, who are busy teaching your brother. The boys also poke their heads in to wave to them, an extra sentiment you appreciate. Eddie leads you up the stairs, with Steve following close behind, though not before Marvin snakes his way past all your feet, nearly tripping Steve up in the process. "See, I told you! He's trying to kill me!" You simply laugh him off as you get to your room.
Eddie holds the door open, but you stand in the doorway, arms crossed. "Doesn't it make it easier if the middle person gets on the bed first, or have you forsaken your dib-" Laughter consumes your last word as Eddie quickly yanks off his jacket, throws it aimlessly and launches himself onto your bed.
The three of you arrange yourselves, Steve spooning Eddie but with his arm snaked beneath the two of you, you laying with your head on Eddie's chest and arm outstretched over him to hold Steve's hand. Even Marvin finds himself a spot to sleep in. In this moment, you experience nothing but genuine comfort and happiness. This is what you were seeking all along. You look over at Steve, who’s just constantly looking back and forth between you both with pure joy in his eyes. You look up at Eddie, whose eyes are closed but has the most genuine and content smile on his face. Though you’ve not said it, it’s clear in this moment: the three of you are all madly in love, and it may never make sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to you.
When you next make eye contact with Steve, you beckon him over, raising your eyebrows in offering. Gleefully, he leans over Eddie’s torso to kiss you, and you once again feel his smile against your lips as he kisses you once, twice, three times. A small whine from Eddie, who’s just realised what you two are up to, pulls you both away to lean up and start showering the corners of Eddie’s mouth and his cheeks with quick little pecks, causing him to grin against the two of you.
You spend the rest of your evening together: Eddie shows Steve some of your D&D books as they try and conceptualise a character to go alongside the ones you’d designed for those two - you’re not sure what charms you more, Steve’s constant ability to only grasp about 60% of every concept, or Eddie’s patience with him despite him practically chewing through his own knuckles; Steve once again flicks through your “personal highlights” VHS collection, stopping at random times elected by Eddie to pick one out at a time and critique it, usually ending in a heated debate between the two of you; you start reading The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide To The Galaxy aloud to them as they listen intently - sat as always, Steve sprawled on his side as Eddie lays on his stomach and keeps kicking his feet up in the air - while both looking at you with nothing but adoration. You keep telling them off for distracting you, but it falls on deaf ears.
You even get a phone call from Cameron while he’s at work, checking in on you, apologising profusely and reassuring you that Jesse will never set foot in the store again. He tells you that he hopes you’ll still feel comfortable working there, but that he understands if you can’t. You tell him you’ll see him tomorrow.
Your parents eventually call the three of you down for dinner, and even around your family, the boys just… Fit. Everything fits. Sure, there’s plenty of other complications that come with dating two people who are also dating each other - far more for Steve and Eddie, specifically. But as long as you’ve got your boys, and they’ve got you, everything is as it should be.
#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader#steddie x reader#steve harrington x eddie munson x you#steddie x you#steddie imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#fluff#aul#*myfics
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On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… 3 Crazy Bastards! (Part 2!)
Ferid Bathory
🤍♦️On the morning of Christmas day, Ferid will spend as long as possible in bed with you. Cuddling, kissing, or… other things… You’re going to have to beg him to get out of bed so you can have your presents.
🤍♦️Speaking of presents, there is an obscene amount under the tree. I did mention several times before that this bastard spoils you rotten, did I not? Anything and everything you could ever want is under that tree.
🤍♦️He would be absolutely thrilled to receive a gift from you! For the most part, it doesn’t matter what you get him. Jewelry? Clothes? Other accessories? Yes, yes, and yes! He’ll wear them all the time. Nobody ever gifts him anything, Because they’re all scared of him/hate him so he is over the moon to receive a gift from you!
🤍♦️After his first year with you, Ferid absolutely adores Christmas and can’t wait to celebrate again next year!
Envy
🌴🖤When you wake up in the morning, Envy tries to act as if it’s just another day. His tsundere game is ON POINT, and it takes one hell of a keen mind to see through it.
🌴🖤Is it any surprise that he didn’t get you anything? He’ll brush it off and act like it’s no big deal, but he’s secretly guilty that he upset you. If you pester and guilt trip him about it, he’ll eventually admit defeat and let you cuddle him. He definitely didn’t plan it this way. Definitely not. Nope, not him. He would never do such a thing.
🌴🖤He is absolutely shocked that you got him something (perhaps decent clothing?). If it is wearable, he’ll make a big show of protesting against putting it on. If it is just a little trinket, he’ll also make a big show, but if you suggest taking it back, he’ll fight you for it. Ya know that one incorrect quote about the friendship bracelets? Yeah.
🌴🖤Even if he’d die before admitting it, he enjoys Christmas with you. Just keep pestering him, he’s not as bothered as he pretends to be.
Tsubaki
🖤🦊In the morning, Tsubaki is pretty slow and lazy for a while. Nothing would please him more than to lay in bed and cuddle until he feels like getting up! If you insist on getting up and facing the day, he won’t protest too much. He’ll just ask you to reconsider.
🖤🦊Despite his inherently chaotic nature, Tsubaki is actually a very thoughtful gift giver. He cares very much for you, and he actually isn’t the worst at showing it. If he has to, he’ll kill a bitch to fulfill your wishlist!
🖤🦊Tsubaki is delighted to receive a gift from you. It isn’t like he didn’t expect it, he’s just happy to receive something from the person who helps so much with his chronic depression! Rest assured, he will cherish this gift forever!
🖤🦊Christmas morning with Tsubaki is so quiet and calm because Christmas afternoon is a wild party with the entire squad, and he knows you need to rest up and prepare. At about 1pm, everyone starts showing up with gifts for each other. Half the gifts are prank gifts, but everyone still has a good time!
🖤🦊Tsubaki already enjoyed Christmas with his gang to begin with, but it has become even more delightful since he met you!
#sc's twelve days of christmas event#christmas event#ons x reader#seraph of the end x reader#ferid bathory#ons ferid x reader#ferid bathory x reader#fma x reader#fmab x reader#fma envy#fmab envy#fma envy x reader#fmab envy x reader#servamp#servamp tsubaki#servamp tsubaki x reader#servamp x reader
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So, once the rot starts to take over more and more of their puppets, are they starting to lose themselves, as well as starting to collapse due to the nature of the rot?
Followup question to that is: have Sig's and Pebb's ancients evacuated their cities to go for someone else's? (Like Sig's ancients going to Wind and Pebb's returning to Moon's while trying to figure out a way to rid themselves of that bridge.)
GOOD MORNING! (it’s 1pm)
Their personalities and their physical structures eventually both get overtaken by the rot :( so yeah, they do start to collapse! It takes a while for their citizens to evacuate though, as Sig n Pebbles take great measures to keep their citizens with them (and miserable) for as long as possible. The iterators are responsible for their city’s well being, like food, water, and waste cleanup, so they have a LOT of power over their citizens’ quality of life, so if there’s rot clogging their clean drinking water or Their Iterator is just refusing to bring them their shipments of food they’re kinda just Shit Outta Luck.
Pebbles’ citizens were easier to evacuate, since there’s a literal bridge between him and Moon, but they do eventually save what’s left of Sig’s colony, probably once he breaks down enough that the Rain isn’t as intense/often anymore so that going to the surface isn’t a death sentence.
THANK U FOR THE ASK!!! 🩷 ALSO, GUESS WHO’S NOT HUNGOVER?? THIS GUYYYYY!!!! @ all my mutuals who sent me stuff last night: thank you for entertaining me and letting me infodump on the dash like an insane person, i hope it was mostly coherent!! Through the power of dionysus or some shit I feel fine and am gonna draw stuff today >:D
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I’m doing one word micro-fic prompts:
2. Bubbly
“Champagne at 1pm is a little excessive, no?” Carlos says sinking into the sofa. His sister scoffs at him.
“If I want some bubbly to celebrate my baby brother’s engagement then the time isn’t going to stop me.“ his sister tells him. She looks happier than he’s seen her in a while. Not that they’ve managed to catch up in a while.
“Hardly a baby, mija, you’re 20 minutes older than me.” He points out. It’s a familiar argument they’ve had since they could talk. Although it’s a lot more affectionate now they’re not teenagers slamming doors in each other’s faces.
She holds her champagne flute up for him to clink against it. He does happily, enjoying the moments of celebration his engagement is bringing him. His and TK’s happiness spreading around everyone in their lives.
The first bottle was a reasonable celebration. The second bottle was pushing it. The tequila shots were a mistake and by 5pm he’s calling his sisters husband and putting her in an Uber that’s going to tank his rating.
He should sleep it off and hope he sobers enough to make dinner and do everything he actually should be doing today.
Instead he calls TK.
“Babe, is everything okay?” Is how TK answers the call. Carlos can hear the noise of the firehouse behind him. The humdrum of first responder life.
“Yeah, I just wanted to call because I love you.” He says, he frowns at himself, that wasn’t what he meant to say even if it’s the truth. “I mean, I do love you but I meant to say miss you. I miss you.”
There’s a pause over the phone before TK laughs. “Babe, are you drunk?”
Panic floods through him that this could be triggering for TK and he tries to lie. “‘No! ‘m not drunk ‘m just…” This was a terrible idea.
He mumble something else down the phone.
“Carlos, baby, I don’t speak Spanish.” TK says and his voice is so light. God, he has a beautiful voice. And face. And everything. His aura, that’s what his tía Lucy would say, he has a beautiful aura.
Carlos didn’t realise he was speaking Spanish. He sighs ready to own up.
“Okay, I’m a little drunk. My sister is a baaaad influence.” Every since they were kids and Carlos stands by it. Even the times it was his fault.
“I’m sorry.” Navigating TK’s addiction has been difficult for the both of them. Carlos has had to learn so much about his own behaviour and habits. TK won the argument about Carlos having beer with dinner and Carlos still feels guilty when he has one.
“Don’t be sorry, you’re allowed to have fun.” TK tells him. Carlos can hear the affectionate smile in his voice. “It’s not hurting me.”
Carlos hums TK is the best.
“What will hurt though, is that hangover.” TK says and yeah that’s going to suck.
“Go and sleep it off, lie on your side, and I’ll see you when I’m home. I’ll bring in dinner.” TK instructs and Carlos will do anything he asks of him when he uses that voice.
“I love you.”
Carlos grins at his phone dopily. “I love you too, TK.”
I have a full prompt list now, thanks for playing ❤️
#Tarlos#writing#tk strand#Carlos reyes#micro-fics#911 Lonestar#911 ls#911 Lonestar fic#911 ls fic#microfic prompts
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when i first woke up this morning, i felt energised and was so excited and happy about everything that happened last night.
then about 1pm my time, it all crashed down on me and i legit cried. i feel like i’m saying goodbye to friends at the end of my college years or something. i know we’re getting more music and an album and eventually a new tour and they’re not going anywhere. it’s just a rebrand and new era. but we’ve been in tbagg for so long now and so much has changed over the last two years and i’m just so emotional over it all 😭
Sending you a big hug<3 I understand your attachment! I don't think it will fully set in for me till I see this album on my phone LOL. Cry it out! I'll cry right along with you LOL
#tea time with shelly#greta van fleet#gvf#josh kiszka#josh gvf#jake kiszka#jake gvf#sam kiszka#sam gvf#danny wagner#danny gvf
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THE HAND PRINCESS
i was once a normal girl. a girl with aspirations… dreams.. until i met him. this is the story of how i became the hand princess.
“WAKE UP Y/N” mom screamed at me!
i looked over at the clock. 4 AM. another day of pilates and pretending to be perfect. mom says if we do our morning rituals the family would look more normal. i don’t believe i can ever be normal because im not like most girls.
i walk out into the garden of luscious plants and paths and a big mermaid water fountain. mom and the rest of the family are all stretching getting ready for pilates. i get on my pink mat and started doing abdominal curls. i hear a pssp pssp.
“pssp! y/n! don’t forget you’re going to the 1975 concert tonight you promised!” my sister, francesca whispers.
bloody darn. i forgot i promised to go to that. i don’t even like boy bands this is gonna be so ugh. i’m not like other girls. “yes of course i remember” (i did not remember).
“okay good it’s gonna be so fun! my friend is sneaking us in so i think we can get barricade” she says. “GET BACK TO PILATES” MOM YELLS.
great, just what i needed. i hate that darn ratty healy. now im gonna have to potentially make eye contact?!?!?!
1PM
i don’t even know what i’m gonna wear to such an “occasion”. hmmmmmm. i pick out the least formal outfit i could find.
we arrive at the venue, just like she said we’re right at the front. i think i’ll just close my eyes because what i’m about to see in front of me will not be bloody peng or even leng.
“cheer up, he’s cute!” franchesca states.
i roll my eyes. this is rubbish.
the curtain falls. blimey.
and there he is. the one and only. matty healy.
but that’s not where my eyes go…
his hands? they’re so……… bloody cheeky and leng.
they’re large, but not too large. veiny, but not too veiny. and they looked very british and cute xx.
i made eye contact with matty and he stops the show. “hi love… you’re so gorgeous. what’s you’re name?” matty says.
“y/n… hehe” i say.
“wanna go back to my hotel room?”
“yeah that’d be bloody leng!”
i lived happily ever after with matty and his hands and it was the best thing that ever happened to me 🩷🤗🩷🤗🩷🤗
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My day as it happened: Saturday Host
10AM: Show up at the restaurant, since both hostesses have quit they had nobody for either shift. There’s nobody here but servers, which suits me just fine. The rotation is already set up for me, and Manager Lite doesn’t work day shift. Glorious.
11AM: There’s a decent little rush happening. I have not been bitched at by a single server, though the GM asks me why I refused to clear tables on Monday. Because it was dead and servers can handle their shit when they have no tables. I tell her if it’s legitimately busy I’ll help them out, but as I’m not being paid any extra to do their job for them, if it’s slow they can just do it themselves. She wisely decides that her best course of action is to go away.
12PM: Discover that 6-top from Monday left a scathing review on a website feedback thing. Summed up: “Slow as fuck in the restaurant, cook screaming for somebody to get our food, yet our waitress couldn’t be bothered.” They do not mention their witty host. It’s actually pretty busy, so I clear some tables. I’m not supposed to use bus tubs for reasons beyond my comprehension but I do it anyway because fuck stupid rules.
1PM: The rush is over already, servers begin asking to be cut. Sorry can’t help you there. The angry cook arrives. He’s drinking what I can only assume to be his 7th energy drink of the day. He asks me if I’m serving tonight. I am not. “Fuck,” he says.
2PM: GM has given me the list of cuts and tells me “to use my discretion” when making those cuts. Given that the restaurant is empty, I cut the entire list save for 3 servers (out of 11.) Servers are happy with me. A couple ask me to sign their side work off, but I decline. “Why not? You know the side work!” Because I’m a host today. The amazing disappearing dishwasher comes in.
3PM: Manager Lite arrives. I get a dirty look as she passes the podium. I cut another day shift server. The 2 remaining day shift servers are on a double, so they stay. Seat 2 tables. Manager Lite runs back to the podium to ask me why I skipped her in rotation. I didn’t. Manager Lite doesn’t like me very much. She’s heard I cleared tables for days when they got busy and now expects the same treatment tonight. Life is just full of disappointments.
4PM: The drama queen has arrived, having a heated conversation on her phone as she passes the podium. Something about “beating some ass” as though she wouldn’t start crying 11 seconds into a fight. Another table comes in and Manager Lite is sat. She runs back to the podium to ask why I sat her those people. Because you’re next in rotation, not my fault or problem that they’re clearly not tippers. Meanwhile the day time cooks leave and the shift supervisor arrives - already a few drinks deep. The amazing disappearing dishwasher leaves “to get something from his car.”
5PM: I seat 4 tables totaling 9 people - 1 each for the remaining day shift servers, 1 for Manager Lite, and 1 for the drama queen. Rotation! The drama queen never greets her table. When the guests come up to ask if they’re getting service, I move them to a day shift server’s section. I do not update rotation.
5:25PM: The drama queen comes to question me on why she hasn’t been sat yet. My answer of “I did, but you never greeted them so now they’re [server’s] table.” sends her careening to the office. I seat another 2 tables, both in the day shifters sections. Manager Lite demands the next table. Since she’s next in rotation I just roll my eyes.
5:30PM: An obviously drunk shift supervisor visits me to ask why I skipped the drama queen. Once I tell her that I sat her already but she couldn’t be bothered to greet them so I moved them to another section, she mumbles off to return to the office.
5:40PM: The drama queen, looking like the younger sibling that just got the older one in trouble, comes up to ask me when she’s being sat next. I tell her where rotation is at.
6PM: 2 tables come in together. I seat Manager Lite and the drama queen. Both are now angry with me because they were sat after they ordered food. Good. Be mad.
6:30PM: The restaurant has scant few tables, so I cut the day shift people. Moments after I cut them, Manager Lite comes to the podium to tell me to cut the day shift people, quote, “So I can make some money.” She has yet to realize she works in the wrong restaurant for that.
7PM: The day shift servers are gone. 2 more tables come in and the drama queen tells me to let her know when she’s been sat so she can make some calls. I will not. I seat both servers.
7:15PM: The table I just sat walks out, never having been greeted or acknowledged. Because I’m a remorseless asshole, I decide to just stop seating the drama queen until she emerges from her makeshift lair in the break area. Tables come in at a manageable pace that even the most green of servers could handle alone with minimal help.
8:25PM: Manager Lite has 5 tables. Benevolently, I decide to run food. Hell, I even cleared a few tables. Not because it was particularly busy, but because I knew when the drama queen finds out that I didn’t go get her like she told me to she would lose her mind. If I help Manager Lite, she won’t go looking for the drama queen.
8:45PM: I seat 2 more tables. I have not seen the drama queen yet. Given that the other tables have paid and are slowly filtering out, I stop clearing and resetting. Manager Lite looks at the podium where I’m standing, decides it isn’t worth it, and goes back to her tables.
8:55PM: The drama queen finally emerges into the dining room to discover that several tables were sat, ate, and left without her being notified. She clocks out and leaves, not having a single table all shift long. She gives me the finger on the way out, crying the entire way. I smile and wave at her like the guy at the end of a Family Guy episode. I feel zero guilt.
9PM: Manager Lite decides that it is worth going to the podium to bother me after all. I’m then ordered to not only clean the dining room for her but also to help with side work and roll silverware. I decide that my shift is over. Had she asked like I was an equal (which I am) I might have helped because I know it sucks getting left like this...but she likes barking orders.
9:02PM: At the time clock I hear Manager Lite bitching at the cook, demanding he puts off doing his work to come around and do hers first. First he laughs at her and then tells her in no uncertain terms to fuck off. I clock out.
As I leave I see the amazing disappearing dishwasher in his car, parked next to me. He’s asleep. I do not wake him.
No idea if anybody came in after that since I ran out of there like my ass was on fire.
I’m thinking my time here is nearly at an end. Complete and total shit show. -J
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Playing With Fire Sneak Peek
Playing With Fire updates every Thursday at 1pm EST! Catch up on chapters HERE
“You could bring him over if you want,” Diana said quietly, trailing off a bit before - at Ellie’s silence - she excitedly added, “You know that we all want to meet him!”
“I don’t know Mom,” Ellie whispered, turning to face away from Chris as she admitted to her mom, knowing about Chris’ worries and past which had led them to take things slow, “I think it might be too early.”
Without judgement or hesitation, her beloved mother rolled with the punches and replied, “Okay, well I’ll make sure to save you some leftovers.”
“Thanks Mom, I’ll come over tomorrow, okay? I love you,” Ellie told her before they hung up, Ellie turning back around and seeing Chris raising an eyebrow at her from where he was standing next to the oversized windows near the door and the hall to the bathroom and kitchen.
“Everything okay?” He asked with a casual and even tone, his face unchanging as he looked at her.
“Yeah, it was just my mom. She was just calling to invite me over for dinner,” she shook her head and explained, “We normally all have dinner together on Sunday evening but they’re doing it tonight.”
He shrugged, his expression shifting as he told her, “You can go if you want, I don’t mind.”
#playing with fire#chris evans writing#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fic#chris evans x ofc#chris evans x oc#chris evans#chris evans story#chris evans x original female character#chris evans au#firefighter!chris evans#firefighter!au
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