#which means my mum has like three glasses of wine and then i have like a fuckton more than that and then tomorrow is very very bad
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sorry in advance if i post some out of pocket shit later i am as usual having new years with just me and my mum and alcohol
#which means my mum has like three glasses of wine and then i have like a fuckton more than that and then tomorrow is very very bad#and new years day we always go to grandma's and eat salted meat which is potentially the worst possible food option for a hangover#👍
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trick or treat 🎃❤️🔥
One week after Lily and James broke up – tears, shouting, broken crockery – and six days after Remus walked away from Sirius for the last time – no tears, because nothing they did counted, right? - Sirius opened his door at a horrific half-past seven on a Saturday morning and found Lily, wan and haggard, leaning against his doorbell.
“Dorcas and Marlene only have a sofa and have really loud sex,” she said. “And Mary’s still living with her parents, and my family are – it doesn’t matter, but look, I understand if this is going to break your sacred vows of friendship with James, but - “
“I’m too hungover for this,” said Sirius. “The rents about two pounds eighty, but nothing works.”
“Aren’t you rich?”
“I’m living in bohemian squalor.”
Lily scrunched up her face, possibly catching a whiff of the kitchen. “Is it going to ruin your aesthetic if I fix shit?”
“Please. Do whatever the fuck you like.”
Sirius wouldn’t describe himself as mad at James, exactly.
You couldn’t be mad at James – no, plenty of people could be mad at James, but Sirius couldn’t. Vaguely irritated? Currently blaming most of his life problems on him? Enjoying watching him squirm? Yes to all three. But never anger, not really, which was why he was in The Pickled Stag (terrible pub, chosen purely for the name), signalling the barman for another and saying, “Are you really going to be grouchy because I didn’t let your ex be literally homeless? She’s my friend too.”
“I just think,” said James, “that, given the situation, it really would have been kinder of her to move to Bali.”
“Terrible choice, she’d burn in an instant,” said Remus. “Sweden. Iceland. Those are more Lily-appropriate places.”
“She can’t go anywhere cold, she can’t ski.” James picked up his shot glass, downed it in one, stared mournfully into the depths and then said, tearfully, “I was going to teach her to ski.”
“You can teach me,” said Peter.
“There you go,” said Sirius. “Pete is basically just Lily with worse hair.”
James, on the edge of a sob, said, “Pete, I’ve already taught you to ski five times. You cannot be taught.”
Remus was leaning over the bar, rapidly ordering enough shots to kill an elephant. His horrible trousers were stretched over his decidedly un-horrible arse. Sirius had to fire himself into the sun. He could not, could not, lust over a man in khaki slacks. A man who – dear god – was requesting Nanci Griffith on the tunes.
“Are you serious?” said Sirius.
“I thought that was - “ said Pete.
“Don’t,” said Remus, shaking out his hair. “My mum likes her, ok? It’s soothing music.”
“It’s the sad and sexless wail of the perma-virgin,” said Sirius.
“Not everything has to be about sex,” said Remus testily. “Sometimes things can just be nice, all right?”
“Who wants nice?” said Sirius, aware that he was stumbling into danger but slightly too drunk to stop. “I mean, give me passion any day.”
“Love is a lie,” mumbled James.
Sirius pointed at him. “See? He gets it.” He was grinding salt in the wound, deliberately nasty now. “No love for James. He doesn’t love anyone.”
“I love Lily.”
“He loves Lily,” said Sirius, gleeful.
Remus curled his lip. “The speed and consistency with which you manage to miss the point is genuinely astonishing. Prop James up, I’m going for a piss.”
“Merlin,” said Pete, looking between Remus’s back and Sirius. “What’s up with you?”
“There’s a monastery in St Bartelomo’s,” said James. “Very beautiful view. Lots of sea.”
“Fascinating,” said Sirius, with an intense premonition of dread. He pushed another shot towards James.
“The monks take a vow of silence.”
“Probably not for you, then.”
“What’s the point of speaking if I can’t say anything to her?”
“Human communication. Discussing the weather. Buying booze.”
“The monks of St Bartelomo’s brew their own wine.”
“Do they drink it?” said Pete.
James waveringly raised his glass and studied the irridiscent depths of his sambuca. “Perhaps further study is needed.”
“Perhaps,” said Sirius. “You’d make a shit monk, though.”
“If I can’t have her, perhaps God will comfort me,” said James, and then promptly threw up on his shoes.
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Off the Deep End | part 2 | swimming instructor Chan x fem reader
Genre: fluff; smut; angst
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader
Word count: 3,2k
Warnings: mentions of past trauma, drowning, adult language, talks of dieting and weight (warnings will be added to each chapter)
Summary: Hellbent on facing her fears, she starts taking up swimming lessons from one attractive young instructor named Christopher.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | to be continued
Masterlist | Network
"So how was the lesson?"
My sister is home alone this time: the kids are at school and her husband at work. It's raining so she can't partake in her favourite activity: lounging by the pool with a drink in hand.
"It was fine," I shrug off her question. I don't feel like talking about it. It's enough having to relive that day once a week for the next four months, I don't need to constantly talk about pools. Thank God the weather is shit.
"Your instructor is a hunk, isn't he?"
Is he? I genuinely barely registered his physical manifestation, other than the fact that he looks very young, pale and short. I barely remember the colour of his eyes or hair.
"I didn't pay attention to that."
"Check him out next week," she chuckles, finishing her glass of rosé and promptly refilling it. "Are you sure you don't want any?"
"I'm good," I politely decline her offering of alcohol. "Isn't it too early for this anyway?"
"It's always a good time for some wine," she laughs at her own joke, which I find rather unfunny. "I have to entertain myself when the boys are away, right?"
"Why don't you get a job, since you're always so bored?"
"You mean, a job like yours," she scoffs, taking another sip of her Chateau Simone Palette. "I don't need to work, besides there's a lot to do around here, with two teenage boys and a useless husband."
I can think of a million responses but all of them would lead to an argument and I'm not in the mood. My head hurts and I'm tired. She only invites me here often so she can rub her newly-acquired material possessions in my face, I feel like.
"As long as you're happy," I simply say, focusing on a bluebird outside her giant window. "Mum would be proud of you- if she remembered who you are."
She downs the rest of her wine, not bothering to continue the conversation. The silence becomes heavy for a minute until the click of the front door opening somehow eases the tension a little.
"Hey ladies," he greets us both, planting a kiss on my sister's forehead as he makes his way towards the fridge. "Oh come on, Jamie, you've been drinking the nice wine?"
"Somebody has to," she protests. "Plus, my sister's here so I had to get her something nice."
Her husband eyes me for a second like I've committed several war crimes, a far cry from his usual overly friendly demeanour and I simply furrow my eyebrows and look over at my sister, who's smirking to herself, two bottles of the fancy wine in front of her, which she drank by herself over the course of the two or three hours I've been at her place.
"You should stay for dinner, Beth is coming too!"
I'm not sure who Beth is, at this point. I can't keep up with all her rich friends who all look vaguely similar to me, their faces all meld together to form the ultimate rich woman face.
"Apparently her daughter is very close to qualifying for the Junior Olympics! Her instructor is the same as yours." I feign enthusiasm, although at least she mentioned someone whose face I remember a little better, although not that much. I was too focused on being terrified to truly pay attention to him, but apparently, he's a hunk and I should check him out.
"He really is good," my sister's husband comments, with a very slight hint of bitterness in his voice. For a nice guy, he's a bit of a dick when he thinks nobody's paying attention.
"Oh, that must be her," Jamie is quick to change the topic, saved by the doorbell.
"Jessica is having a sleepover with Whitney and Bill is on a business trip to Singapore," Beth clarifies when my sister's husband asks. "He's been awfully busy these days," she sighs.
"But you guys make it work, how sweet," Jamie's voice is laced with sarcasm, a bit slurred from consuming two bottles of wine even though she's still impossibly sober after so much alcohol. "Have you seen Travis lately? He and Sarah haven't been around in a while."
Beth swallows, almost choking on her own saliva at the mention of Travis. I have no clue who he is or who Sarah is, but I must admit it's fun to try to figure out what goes on in rich people's lives. It's like watching The Real Housewives: Melbourne edition.
"Oh, I hear they're moving to Sydney," she smiles the most awkward smile ever before quickly turning to me as if I'm about to save her. And I am because she makes the conversation about me. "Have you met Chris yet?"
Chris?
"Uhm, I've met Christopher yes, I had my first lesson a couple of days ago," I simply reply, hoping I don't have to hear the speech about him being hot once again.
"Oh he's a doll, isn't he?" There it is.
"Yeah, he's- he's very nice."
"If I wasn't married, I'd certainly be all over him," she's smirking weirdly and it's honestly a little off-putting.
"That's never stopped you before, Beth" Jamie's husband comments sneakily from behind the kitchen island as he washes what I'm assuming are vegetables for dinner. He clears his throat the next second as if he didn't just drop a massive bomb. Well, to me it is a bomb but to my sister, it seems like old news.
"I didn't really pay attention to his physical manifestation," I shrug, my voice lower than normal for some reason. I desperately want them to talk about literally anything else, maybe explain who Travis is and why the mere mention of his name made Beth so flustered.
"He's a total hottie," Jamie's husband mocks, his sarcasm hiding an undertone of seething jealousy. "Didn't you see his six-pack?"
I didn't, he was wearing a shirt, I think to myself but don't mention it, hoping the conversation will be turned around because this is horribly painful; I'd rather be in the swimming pool with ten pool noodles sticking out of my body at this point.
"So, I hear Jess is very close to making the team," Jamie saves me the embarrassment of hearing about how hot my swimming instructor is. Although the conversation still concerns him in a way. You must be so proud."
"She is," Beth exclaims in the most obnoxious way possible, her voice grating and insufferable. "I'll have to make sure she loses the extra weight before then, though."
My guts turn inside of me - the way she nonchalantly talks about a tween girl's body is making me want to commit unspeakable violence. I stay put, however. I don't have the patience to engage with this kind of discussion, not after a shift at that godforsaken place and barely any sleep. I'd rather hear all about how sexy Christopher is than have to listen to some middle-aged unemployed woman who lives off her husband belittle a literal child. And, as far as I remember, the girl was thin.
Jamie's husband glances at me from the corner of his eye and quickly changes the subject. He's probably heard all about my mother's fucked up diet she forced upon Jamie and me growing up.
"Right, so what should we have?"
"What have we go in the fridge," Jamie asks. "Do we still have that beef mince?"
"Oh sorry I can't do red meat," Beth interrupts. Of course you can't, I scoff to myself, making sure I didn't say it out loud. "I'm fine with just a salad, actually."
"We've got some rocket, tomatoes, cucumber-" he trails off as he checks the contents of his own fridge like he doesn't open it much. "-avocado…"
"Oh we could do like a Caesar, I suppose," Jamie says and I want to roll my eyes so bad. My stomach is making noises and I will probably stop by McDonald's on my way home.
The conversation doesn't get much better throughout the evening and I find myself zoning out, head completely empty, doing my best to drown out their voices as they talk about their perfect mundane rich lives and their upcoming holidays and the diets they've been trying these days. The air feels heavy with emptiness, like when you're quietly drowning in the shallow end of the pool and nobody can hear you.
I check my watch with a grand gesture, making sure they see me do it, gasping dramatically.
"Oh, would you look at the time, I should get going."
I excuse myself out of there as soon as possible and remind myself to avoid going to my sister's house as much as possible, no matter how lonely I am. It's a tough choice between rotting in my room by myself, visiting my ill and hateful mother in the care home where she won't recognise me, or visiting my sister in her expensive home while she binge-drinks and acts like she's better than me. Maybe I'll rot in my room more often. When was the last time I had a social interaction besides Jamie and her rich pretentious friends, small talk with my co-workers or thanking a Doordash driver? When was the last time I hugged someone besides my nephews? Or held someone's hand… Christopher doesn't count, I was scared of fucking drowning.
The sounds from my TV fill up the space as I scroll mindlessly yet again. Everyone seems to be married with kids, buying houses, getting promotions, going on exotic holidays and working out. I had hoped this weird feeling of being the most inadequate human alive would have faded in my thirties but, alas, it never did. Especially not when my sister herself is the model citizen with her million-dollar home with a pool, her engineer husband and her rich friends who wear Channel pyjamas to lounge around.
Nothing good ever comes out of the "people you may know" tab, as I find myself going through my sister's friends' social media, always filled with photos of luxurious holidays in paradise islands, their thin forms adorned with designer outfits and photos of Michelin star restaurants. Apparently, little Jessica is a main character in her mother's social media too, her page full of photos of the swimmer and her many medals. And… is that Christopher? I zoom in on the photo that shows the teenage girl holding a gold medal with a huge smile on her face, and the man standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder. It is Christopher, the swimming instructor. I don't think I've fully registered his facial features before, even though I spent an entire hour looking at him. Without water around me causing panic, I can finally admit he is somewhat good-looking, I suppose. Not that it matters. I look at him for a few more seconds until a yawn comes out of my mouth.
"Get some sleep, loser," I scold myself before putting the phone down and closing my eyes.
**
My legs are trembling again and I'm not sure if they'll ever calm down. The big clock on the wall indicates I'm a few minutes early and I see Christopher teaching a small class of children in the lane directly in front of the dressing room door. I find myself staring at him, at the way he smiles fondly at the kids, like a proud dad at the end of school year party. I wish someone had felt this proud of me growing up. And even now. Dad's long gone, Mum doesn't remember my name and Jamie… well, I don't think my life fits her definition of something to be proud of. Regardless, here I am, trying to make myself proud by facing my biggest fear and trying to act nonchalant about it, while my legs shake like leaves.
"Hey, how are you?"
Christopher approaches me, once again smiling like he always does.
His sleeveless black shirt is completely soaked, water is dripping from his hair and he has a towel around his shoulders.
"I'm alright, and you?"
"All good," he replies as we walk towards the very last pool lane on the far side of the complex, the same as last week. "So, we're gonna continue to focus on getting you comfortable in the water and trying to get you to get used to it."
This time, it feels somewhat easier to go down the steps into the water. It's warm and pleasant, I know I can stand up and I know he's right there to catch me if I fall. He does the same thing he did last week - takes a few steps towards the middle of the pool, where the water starts getting deeper. At the far end of the pool, it reaches three metres. Where he stands it reaches maybe 1,40 metres. He doesn't say anything, but I know the drill - I slowly walk towards him, looking down at my feet through the surface of the water, watching it wobble with each step. I look up at Christopher, who's looking at me attentively like he's studying my moves. He doesn't say anything and just watches as I get closer. When I finally meet him, he cracks a smile, as wide as usual.
"It seems like you're more comfortable this time around," he states. "So we're gonna try the same thing as last time, but it would be so good if you could do it without the floaties."
I swallow. Sure, I walked a little and I felt better about being on the water, but no floaties? That feels a bit extreme… He's looking at me, and maybe he's just good at reading people, or maybe I'm being awfully obvious because his next suggestion eases me a bit.
"You can hold onto me. I promise I will not let you go, you know that."
I nod as he reaches his arms out to me, which I take. His arms are strong and veiny, the skin slightly tan and supple. His white tank top is pressed against his body, it's easy to see through it. His chest is toned. Maybe Beth's words floated in my brain a bit too much and I shouldn't have listened to her.
"Good job," he says, interrupting my ogling. I notice I've extended my legs without even realising and I'm holding on to his hands. Panic sets in and I find myself violently kicking my legs, trying to put my feet back on the ground. In the commotion, I grip his hands tighter, almost clawing at him desperately trying to hold onto the only thing I can hold on to. "Hey, hey, you're safe. You're safe, I've got you."
I feel his arms around my waist as my feet slowly come into contact with the concrete at the bottom, his face closer to mine than I would have liked. It's supposed to calm me down, but it's making my heart beat faster. His presence is making me nervous and I'm not sure why, I'm not a teenager and he's my instructor.
"I-I'm sorry," I apologise as his hands leave my body and he takes a step back, distancing himself from me. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, you just panicked. It happens." He's not smiling this time and I can't help but think it's my fault. Maybe I crossed a line? Maybe I was staring too much? My mouth feels dry. "You don't have to disclose anything you don't want to, but I'd like to ask, have you had any bad experiences in water?"
There it is. The question makes me even more nervous than I already was and I swallow once more, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, watching the sunbeams through the high up windows.
"Yes. I nearly drowned as a child," I say, pointing to the small but deep scar on my jaw from where it hit the edge of the pool as I fell. I don't remember anything, only how it felt to be unable to breathe for what felt like an eternity. I'm holding back tears.
He doesn't respond for a minute, looking at me with a serious expression.
"Understandable," he says. "I might need to try a different approach in that case."
I'm not sure what that means or how it will affect me or the lessons, but all I can think about is how embarrassing it would be if I started crying here, at the swimming pool, at 12PM on a Saturday surrounded by people and in front of my handsome young instructor.
"I'm gonna need you to be very open and honest, okay? I need to know if anything makes you uncomfortable and you feel like you really can't do it."
Why is he talking to me like I'm one of his child students? I don't want this, I'm a grown-ass woman and my stupid trauma doesn't make me defenceless or useless and-
"Hey, Jessica, look at me," he commands, his voice firm but gentle. "The reason I need to know these things is so we can work through your trauma together, okay? I can't teach you to swim unless you feel comfortable in the water and you won't feel comfortable if I keep trying to push your limits."
As he says this, I look him in the eye, and my brain feels foggy. I'm not sure I can quite make out the contours of his facial features anymore, it's like watching a movie without contacts on. Why am I looking at his face like I've never seen him before? Why did the room suddenly get so loud?
I nod, incapable of saying anything.
"I really need you to trust me as your instructor and feel at ease, but I can't help you if you don't trust me."
"Y-yes Christopher."
He reaches out again and I hold his hands once more. He nods slowly and I know what I'm supposed to do.
"You know what kinda lawsuit I'd have to deal with if I let anything happen to you?"
He chuckles at his own dumb joke and I find myself laughing too. I try again, my heart has calmed down and I take a breath as I complete the exercise. He nods, a huge smile on his pretty face.
"Okay, I'm gonna walk and drag you along. I'm walking towards the shallow end alright? If you wanna stand up, just say so, don't go kicking your legs!"
*
I stare at my bedroom ceiling, trying to empty my brain. It's completely silent except for the occasional car passing by on the street below me. I can't shut off the cacophony of thoughts going through my mind no matter how hard I try, and I have work in about - I check my phone - four hours. For some reason, all I can think about is the way Christopher's hands felt on my waist for those five or so seconds I was barely registering. He's just a guy, Jessica. Stop daydreaming about him and go on Tinder or some shit.
*
To be continued...
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Chapter Four
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this next instalment of ETTC!! Thank you to everyone who has been liking, commenting and messaging me about the story. It means the world.
Warnings: Explicit language, consumption of alcohol
Word Count: 8.2k
Story Page / FAQs / ETTC chats.
The pub was busier than Amelia had ever seen it that night, though there were only an additional five tables occupied than normal. Though there was a certain hustle and bustle that came with those few extra people, Amelia welcomed it with open arms.
After three in the incredibly quiet village where not a lot happened, being surrounded by more people was just what she needed. It made her feel a little more at home.
The only issue with there being more people in the pub was her usual table in the far back corner wasn’t free like it normally was. So, she opted to sit in front of the roaring fire, letting the heat radiate throughout her entire body. She sat far enough away that she wasn’t sweating from the heat, but close enough that when the door opened, she didn’t feel the draft entering the building.
Her steak and ale pie with mashed potatoes went down a treat and just as she was about to get up to get another drink, Kaine walked over with a drink for her.
‘How did you?’
‘Read your mind,’ he replied with a smirk. ‘No, it’s a bit of a habit you have. After you’ve eaten, you’ll wait five or so minutes and then come up and get a drink.’
Amelia was shocked. She’d not realised that she was so readable but at the same time, she should have known. Everywhere she turned there was someone who knew something about her life that she didn’t know was common knowledge.
‘Well thank you,’ she offered as she took the glass of wine from him.
‘No Taron today?’
‘Kaine, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,’ Amelia mumbled as she looked at him, his tongue pressed into his cheek. ‘There is nothing going on between Taron and me.’
But oh how she wished there was.
‘But if you must know,’ she continued, emphasising ‘must’ by tilting her head ever so slightly to the left, ‘he is working until six and then will probably be going home to put his feet up because if you haven’t noticed, it’s bloody freezing outside and he’s been working since eight this morning.’
‘You know an awful lot about his work schedule for there to be nothing going on between you,’ Kaine jested while grabbing Amerlia’s empty plate and walking away before she could reply.
Another glass of wine later, Amelia finally pulled her phone out of her bag. There were random instagram notifications of people liking her most recent photo– one she had taken months before to try and make people believe she was still in LA and not in the English countryside– as well as her daily Co-Star notification and three text messages.
From: Haz :)
They’ve asked me to do three more press interviews! I’m so tired and just want bedddddd… and my partner in crime. Work isn’t as fun without you :(( x
From: Mama
Any men popped up since last time we text? Xx
From: Lukey 🤍
Lmao that sounds…interesting. Any plans for tonight?
Choosing to ignore her mum for the time being, simply so that she could avoid having another conversation about the lack of a man in her life, and knowing that it would cause Harry to pout and playfully sulk if she were to reply to Luke first, Amelia decided to respond to Luke first.
To: Lukey 🤍
I’ve just had tea at the pub and I think I’m going to sit here for a couple of hours and have a few drinks before heading back for the night :))
Her fingers moved fast against the keyboard on her phone and she only made a couple of mistakes that were easily fixable. It didn’t take Luke long to reply which could only mean that she was on her way home from work and bored on the tube.
From: Lukey 🤍
That honestly sounds perfect! I think I’m just gonna pop 10 Things on and eat my weight in chocolate lmao. Don’t tell H but I’m going to open the Quality Streets early :)))))
Amelia chuckled before sending a quick reply and promising not to tell Harry of his boyfriend’s antics. She locked her phone then, putting it on the table in front of her and enjoying the final song that the live band was playing. Over the course of their set, she had taken a couple of videos to show Harry the next time she saw him.
As families and a few of the older gentlemen started to trickle out of the pub, a few others started to trickle in, filling the seats that sat near the small clear space that had been designated as a stage. Amelia paid close attention to everyone around her, her love and need for people watching kicking in fully.
Kaine weaved his way through the tables until he stood at the front of the room. He clapped when the band finished their cover of Bohemian Rhapsody before he stood behind the microphone and cleared his throat.
'Evening lads and lasses.' He was unable to continue speaking from the low mumbles of everyone in the pub repeating ‘evening’. 'It’s Friday night karaoke night! I’ll leave a little sign up sheet here for you to write your names down then when our ever so lovely Kelly comes in, I’ll come and sign everyone up properly. Bar’s open all evening!'
With that, everyone clapped again and the pub’s sound system kicked in, playing a song that Amelia couldn’t quite remember the name of. She kept checking her phone to see if she had any more text messages but she didn’t so she finally replied to Harry. Or at least she started to. Halfway through her text two hands landed heavily on her shoulders and she almost jumped out of her skin.
'What the?'
As she turned around, the two people she least expected to see stood smiling widely at her.
'If it isn’t Pretty Baby Bray…' Harry joked playfully.
'What the hell are you two doing here?' Amelia replied with her hand on her heart. She was easy to scare and Harry knew that, which is why he would purposely scare her when they were on set together.
'I don’t know about this idiot but I missed you like crazy,' Luke piped up from next to Harry.
Amelia saw her close friend and stood up from her seat. She instantly wrapped her arms around Luke and held him tight. Her friendship with Harry had resulted in a really close relationship with his boyfriend and they would often have brunch dates when they were both in the same city.
'Do you want a drink, babe? I’m gonna go grab myself a beer.'
Luke let go of her friend and turned to his boyfriend, thinking for a second before turning to Amelia.
'You’re here a lot. What do you recommend I get?'
'Southern Comfort and Diet Coke,’ Amelia replied instantly. ‘Sweet and tasty. So bloody good. I’ve gotten a little tipsy on them a few times.'
'Two Southern Comforts and Diet Coke coming right up,' Harry spoke happily before walking over to the bar to get the drinks.
'Who introduced you to that drink?' Luke asked gently as he sat down next to Amelia, leaving the seat with the back to the fire for Harry.
'Taron,' Amelia replied simply.
'Taron? Taron as in the Taron you keep texting H about? Talking about how he makes you flustered and nervous all the time? How on many occasions you’ve ‘made a complete fool of yourself’ but Taron was gracious and simply brushed it off? How there hasn’t been a guy before Taron that you have ‘fancied the pants off’?'
Amelia couldn’t reply. Her cheeks were red hot and visibly darker in colour. She shifted in her seat and drank the last bit of the drink she had already all while Luke laughed at her.
'You’re so predictable, babe. Is this guy really that amazing?'
'Yes.'
He really was. He was the most amazing and Amelia couldn’t comprehend how she’d been so lucky as to have him in her life, even if just for a short time.
Though she didn’t have the heart to tell her friend that she and Taron weren’t exactly on the best of terms at that point. Ever since their incident in the street a few days before, they hadn’t spoken. Not for want of trying. Taron had texted Amelia multiple times trying to get her to let him explain and he’d even tried to call her but she ignored it. She was too scared to know the truth.
******
When Kaine walked over to the table with a tray of four tall glasses a little while later, each filled with a beautifully ombréd drink in them, Amelia was beyond confused.
'What is this, Kaine?' She asked as she tilted her head up so that she could look at Kaine properly.
'A Snookums. Harry mentioned your nickname a little earlier. It’s basically a Gatsby but with muddled strawberries,' Kaine replied as though Amelia should have known what the drink was. The only problem was that even after being told what it was Amelia still looked completely clueless to which Kaine, and Harry alike, couldn’t help but laugh. 'There’s brandy and gin in it as well as apple juice and strawberries. It might be gross but I thought you’d appreciate something different.'
Amelia took a small sip of the drink and her eyes fell closed in pure euphoria. 'Oh…my…god. That’s so good, Kaine! You’re going to have to keep these coming tonight.'
Luke and Harry chuckled from their places as they took the first sips of their own Snookums’. Amelia hadn’t been lying, it was really good, and Luke could tell that if she were to keep up and drink more then she would slowly become more and more drunk.
'I’ll keep ‘em coming, lovely. Talk to you soon.' Kaine gave Amelia a small wink before walking back to the bar where he was met with a multitude of older men waiting to be served.
'Why’s the barman winking at you?' Luke asked curiously.
'You two got a thing going on?' Harry added playfully.
'You two are actually as bad as one another, you know? That’s Kaine and he’s my oldest friend’s boyfriend.'
The look of pure hurt on Harry’s face caused Amelia to bend over in her seat laughing. Of course, she knew that he wasn’t really hurt or she wouldn’t have laughed. But he was an actor after all.
‘Haz, stop being a child! I haven’t spoken to Thalia in a while and I don’t know when the next time will be either. You know that you’re my best friend…after Luke.'
'Ha! Told you she loved me more!'
The group’s playful banter was exactly what Amelia had been missing since she first arrived in Rivercliffe. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends there because obviously she did. It was just that herself, Luke and Harry would take the piss out of one another and then laugh about it. There was something keeping her from being her true self in the village and as much as she knew what that was, she was scared to admit it properly.
******
'Hey mate,' Harry chirped as he walked up to the bar for the third time that evening.
'Hey mate. You’re Amelia’s friend…Harry, right?'
'Aye that’s me. Look, mate, I desperately need your help.'
Kaine put his hand towel back through his belt loops before putting his hands on top of the bar and lifting his head slightly. 'Depends what it is, but sure I’ll bite I guess.'
'Perfect. Do you know a bloke called-'
'You’re going to ask me about Taron aren’t you?'
Harry knew that there was a possibility that Kaine wouldn’t know where Taron was, but he had to try. When Amelia had called him the night everything happened in floods of tears and near a panic attack, he wished that he could have been there to hold her and calm her down. And even if it killed him, he would get them both back talking again because Amelia hadn’t been as happy before as she was when she was with Taron .
'How did you…?'
'Look, Harry, I’ve got eyes and a brain. Those two need someone to bash their heads together and I feel like you’d be the best person to do that anyway. Amelia mentioned that he’s working until six and then he’ll probably be heading home.'
'Perfect. Do you think if I head off to try and persuade him to come for the karaoke night you could make some excuse up with the missus and Amelia about where I’ve gone? I’ll be ten minutes tops.'
Kaine nodded with a smile. 'Course I can. Be quick or someone’s gonna steal your seat I can guarantee it.'
'Will do. Thanks again, Kaine.'
'It’s no problem, brother.'
With that, Harry was legging it out of the pub and running all the way back to the bed and breakfast where Taron should have been getting ready to finish his shift.
As though the universe was working in favour of Harry, Taron was just closing the gate behind him when Harry turned the corner.
'Taron!' He shouted the best he could through his pants. If there was one thing that Harry was, it was unfit.
'That’s me.'
Taron stayed where he was until Harry got closer to him so they could talk without shouting.
'I’m a friend of Amelia’s.'
Amelia. Even hearing her name had Taron’s stomach twisting awkwardly. For days he’d tried to get in contact with her just so that he could explain what happened and for days she had ignored his efforts. At one point he was contemplating catching her when they were out and about so that he could tell her to her face but he chickened out at the last minute.
'I know what happened between you both the other night.'
'Look, Harry, I swear I’m not-'
'I know,' Harry spoke quietly. He knew that with Taron trying to get in contact with Amelia that he was telling the truth. 'She’s just fucking stubborn. But she also knows deep down that you were telling the truth and she feels stupid and is scared to admit that she was in the wrong. It’s the way it goes with her.'
'I’m not mad at her, if that’s what she thinks. I don’t think any less of her for thinking what she did because if the roles were reversed then I would have done the same'
'I know, pal. That’s why I need you to come to the pub before her and my other half get too suspicious as to why I just left them. Come with me and explain to her. She won’t walk away if I’m there because I won’t let her leave.'
Taron thought about it for a while, watching the way that he could see his breath in the below freezing temperatures. As much as he wanted to go to the pub and see Amelia, he was scared. What if she refused to listen to him? Or worse yet, what if she told him that she hated him and didn’t want to see him? His heart broke when she walked off from him and he didn’t think he could deal with her telling him to his face that she hated him.
'Listen, I know it’s scary and you’re unsure as to how she’ll respond but she wants to talk to you. Told me herself.'
'I’ll come.'
'Perfect.'
******
'Your left big toe was cold so you went to get your woollen socks?' Luke asked with raised eyebrows as Harry sat himself down on his seat and pushed himself closer to the fire so that he could warm up. In the heat of him leaving the pub he hadn’t taken his coat with him. 'You’re not even wearing them.'
'Well, you see, what happened was-'
Harry couldn’t even finish what he was saying before Taron was putting his drink down on the table and sitting next to Amelia. Harry nodded at him with a small smile before he turned to his boyfriend and kissed him quickly, wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into his body. Amelia turned to glare at her friend with her tongue in her cheek before she turned to Taron with her lips pulled between her teeth.
'Luke, this is Taron,' Harry spoke, needing to clear the tension at the table. 'Taron, this is my boyfriend, Luke.'
'It’s lovely to meet you, Luke.' Taron offered Luke his hand and dipped his head down slightly when she shook it. 'Amelia’s said so much about you. Says you’re one of her best friends.'
'Amelia is truly the best.'
'She is.'
With that they all fell quiet again. Amelia lifted her glass in a hurry and pulled it to her lips, tipping her head back to down the rest of the liquid which burnt her throat.
'I’m going to go get another drink,' she said through gritted teeth before she harshly pushed her chair back and practically stormed to the bar.
'I’ll go make sure she’s okay,' Harry muttered as he kissed Luke’s forehead and followed his friend. 'Oi,' he said as he poked Amelia’s shoulder, 'he’s come here so that you can listen to what he has to bloody say. And I’m not letting you leave this pub until you’ve heard him out.'
'Why, Harry? He’s just going to make a fucking fool of me and I’m going to feel even more dumb than I already do. And if I don’t, I’m going to make a fool out of myself because look at him.'
Taron was sat chatting to Luke quietly but all Amelia could focus on was how good he looked. When he sat down he took his long line coat off and she was fully able to see his outfit. A white t-shirt and black jogger style trousers. He looked good. He always did.
'Please, Amelia. It broke my heart hearing you so down the other night. He really does just want to talk to you.'
'Fine. I’ll hear him out. But if this ends badly it’s on you.' She poked at his chest before thanking Kaine for her drink and walking back to the table.
******
Throughout the course of the evening, more people had signed up for the karaoke…including Harry who only smirked at his boyfriend and best friend. He was always the one to get up and sing, though normally he would need a couple of pints down him first.
When Luke brought that fact up, he shrugged it off with a wink, 'Ahh, but angel you’re forgetting something. By the time I’m called up to sing, I’ll have a few more than a couple of pints down me so I’ll be good.'
'You’re a knobhead,' Luke breathed quietly. Truth was, she loved when Harry sang and she knew that even at a karaoke night when there was a high chance that he would be drunk, he would still be amazing.
'Yeah, but I’m your knobhead,' he replied just as fast, leaning forward to press a swift kiss to his lips.
Amelia watched her two friends in awe. She could barely remember the last time that she kissed someone she was seeing out in public without a care in the world, though it was probably before she’d been in any films and didn’t have to worry about the media.
Long gone were the days where she felt free enough to even hold hands with someone let alone kiss them. She longed for a relationship as, what seemed to be at least, perfect as Harry and Luke’s. She wanted someone to kiss her while they were out and about and them both wind up giggling like they were in those very first stages of a relationship where everything was new and exciting.
The only issue was that she longed for a relationship like that with only one person. No one else set the butterflies off the way that Taron did, and no one else seemed to care about her the same way that Taron did. Even when they were simply having a small conversation, Taron’s entire attention was on Amelia and what she was saying. When she was with him, she didn’t have to fight for his attention and that’s what she loved.
'What song are you going to sing?' Amelia asked gently as she lifted her drink up to have more of it. The almost overly sweet beverage left her closing her eyes again and when they opened, Harry was shaking his head with a chuckle.
'You really are something else, you know that?' Amelia nodded. 'But I’m going to sing Faith.'
'I don’t even know why I asked in all honesty.'
'Yeah I’m surprised that you asked. Are you gonna sing something?'
'Hell no,' Amelia replied quickly. There were some things that she would do at a drop of a hat but singing in the pub to strangers? No chance. 'There are some things I will never do.'
'But you’re an amazing singer! They’d all love you.'
'My dignity wouldn’t.'
'I’ve never heard you sing,' Taron whispered awkwardly. He and Amelia had talked about what happened and they agreed to put it behind them but they weren’t back to what they were before.
'Don’t hold your hopes up, mate,' Harry added through a chuckle, 'she hardly ever sings anymore. But you’ll be lucky if you do hear it. Like an angel, she is.'
'Harry, I swear to god I will throw my drink on you.'
Taron laughed quietly from his spot. When Amelia turned to look at him his smile disappeared, until he saw her give him a small smile. Oh, how he’d missed the way her smile made him feel. It was as though the butterfly which was tattooed permanently onto his stomach fluttered around in giddiness and his head went light as he tried to control his breathing.
'I’m going to go and get another drink, would you like one?' He asked everyone at the table, but mainly Amelia who suddenly couldn’t take her eyes off of Taron.
It was the first time in a while that she truly looked at him and took him in. He looked dishevelled, almost like he hadn’t slept in days. The bags under his eyes were deep purple and rather visible. His lips were chapped and cracked in places and his eyes looked sunken. Not to mention the mess of hair on the top of his head. He looked unwell.
'I’ll come and get one,' Amelia replied quietly, turning to Harry and nodding when he gave her a look as if to ask if she was sure.
They walked to the bar in silence. Taron had his eyes on the floor while Amelia had to fight herself not to grip onto his hand. Though she did have to grip his bicep when she almost tumbled forward.
'Careful, Pretty Baby.'
'How is that you’re always saving me from falling on my arse?' Amelia chuckled, getting to the bar and leaning on it to catch herself properly. 'Are you okay?'
Taron was taken aback by the question. It wasn’t a typical ‘are you alright?’ question. There was meaning behind it, like Amelia really wanted to know how he was doing.
'Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?'
Lies. He wasn’t okay in the slightest. He’d barely slept a wink since they last spoke to one another and had opted to sleep on the sofa where he wasn’t surrounded by her scent which lingered on his sheets. For days the only thoughts clouding his brain had been Amelia. Each ignored text and unanswered phone call made him recoil back into the sofa more.
Work was the last thing on his mind and he had, regretfully, called in sick from both jobs because he didn’t want to risk running into Amelia and upsetting her. He did, however, take walks around the village in hopes of seeing her because seeing her out in public would surely be easier than seeing her in the confines of a small cottage building.
'Taron, I know that’s not the truth.'
'I’ve barely slept.'
Amelia wasn’t expecting the truth to cut her so deep. But it did. Knowing that Taron, her lovely Taron who she adored, hadn’t slept to the point where he looked physically ill hurt her. She could feel her stomach clenching at the thought and she had to take a deep breath to even begin to relax herself.
'I’m sorry,' she whispered. She was well aware that Taron would try and tell her that it wasn’t her fault but she knew that it was. If it wasn’t for her not letting him explain in the streets then he would have slept and wouldn’t look ill. But she didn’t, and he didn’t.
'It’s not your fault,' he whispered back. Amelia let out a tiny, breathy chuckle. Taron was predictable in the best possible way.
'It is though. I should have let you talk but instead I just thought about myself and how I felt so I’m sorry.'
'If it had been the other way around then I’d have done the same,' Taron confessed.
Amelia regretted looking up at him. The fluorescent lighting of the pub cast a weirdly gorgeous glow over Taron’s entire face. The shadow on his cupid's bow made his lips look that little bit more full and kissable. More kissable to the point where if there wasn’t a roomful of people around them, and she was sure that Taron wanted to, she would have pressed her lips to his gently.
'I’m still sorry.'
'What can I get for you both?' Kaine asked when he walked up to them.
'Another round of Snookums' please, Kaine.' Taron spoke confidently for the first time that evening and it warmed Amelia’s heart.
While they waited for Kaine to make the drinks, Taron drank Amelia in. He paid close attention to the way that her hair fell on her shoulders and the way that her top lip protruded ever so slightly more than her bottom lip. It wasn’t until then that he truly realised how much he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to grab her wrist so that he could spin her around and he wanted to cup her cheeks delicately as he pressed his lips to hers gently.
******
When Kaine announced that Taron was going up to sing, Taron himself had chuckled because he wasn’t the one who had put his name down on the sheet. It was only when Harry patted him on the back and winked at him that it all made sense. Luke scoffed a laugh while Amelia death glared at her friend.
Taron stood up slowly, throwing daggers at the man he had just met before walking over to the stage area and standing behind the microphone stand. He pointed to Kaine when he was ready for the music to start and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.
The opening notes of Endless Love started playing and within the first few words Taron sang, Amelia was truly transfixed.
Completely and utterly fixated.
His voice was so delicately soft with a certain amount of gravel to it too. The gravel that Amelia loved so much. He looked nervous to start, and he could barely be heard over the chatter that was still in the pub. But as he got a little further in, he grew a little more confident. Amelia couldn’t not stare at him. She was so unbelievably confused as to how the guy she’d thought was perfect since the very start could become even more perfect so quickly.
'He needs a Diana,' Harry whispered into her ear before sitting back on his chair with a smug smirk.
'Of course you did this on purpose, asshole,' she whispered back with a small smile of her own. She should have known that Harry would pull something like that, it was in his nature.
Though, to start she had no intention of getting up to sing with Taron for she wanted to sit and enjoy the soothing sound of his voice. She could hear him sing for eternity and she would be content. However, when she could hear him start to struggle singing both parts of the song, she downed the rest of her drink and stood up. Harry let out a small cheer as she walked away, not missing the way she put her middle finger up at him.
'You’re a dickhead,' Luke whispered into his boyfriend’s ear.
'Yeah, I know. She’ll thank me later though.'
'You’d better hope she does. I’d have fucking killed you.'
Harry only laughed at his boyfriend before lifting his pint to his lips so that he could take a swig. His eyebrows furrowed when Luke lifted his hand to his lips to stop herself from laughing. He refused to tell him why he was laughing so he resorted to lifting his phone up to check his face in the camera. Much to his dismay, the head of his lager had left a white moustache above his top lip.
When Amelia got to the table where Kaine sat, she grabbed the microphone that he was holding out to her and switched it on with the switch at the bottom of it. As soon as she saw the red light flash three times she took a deep breath and started her walk to a startled Taron.
'Two hearts,' Amelia sang softly.
Taron didn’t know what he was expecting when Amelia started singing, but it sure as hell wasn’t what he thought.
Her voice was smoother than fresh honey, velvety in his ears as he heard it. It was softer than the fluffiest blanket he had ever owned and it comforted him even more than he would care to admit. There was something so transcendent about watching her sing that he almost forgot that he had to sing too.
He finally started to sing again, his eyes locking with Amelia’s as she turned to look at him. Neither of them could look away. They were so focused on one another that the entire room began to melt around them. Harry and Luke, Kaine and every other person disappeared and left them purely on their own.
It didn’t take long for Taron’s lips to quirk up into a smile. His smile lines deepened and his dimples became even more prominent. He had to close his eyes to refocus himself on the song that they were singing, perfectly falling back into it.
When his eyes fluttered open again, everyone else was back in the room and he felt somewhat scared. But as soon as Amelia’s eyes met his once more, he felt calm. He was always told that when in front of a group of people he should find one person or thing to look at to calm himself. He just never expected that to be someone as amazing as Amelia.
'I’ll be a fool for you, I’m sure.'
Amelia could feel every beat of her heart pummelling her ribcage. She struggled for breath as she tried to continue to sing. It wasn’t easy though. Taron’s eyes bore into hers and she felt herself grow lightheaded and dizzy.
Everything about Taron was perfect. He was funny, happy, so incredibly thoughtful, he didn’t take himself too seriously, and above everything else…he treated Amelia like a regular person. When she was around Taron, she wasn’t Pretty Baby Bray. She was Amelia. Taron treated her like he would treat everyone around her and she didn’t realise just how much she needed that.
'You mean the world to me.'
Amelia had to look away from Taron in order to try and hide the smile that she was fighting. She found Harry’s eyes and gave him a death glare which had him laughing and he slapped his knee as he tried to stop himself. Luke smacked his arm gently before nodding at Amelia with the biggest grin.
Taron and Amelia sang in perfect harmony. Their voices mixed together seamlessly and it was almost too perfect. Even with their obvious nerves they didn’t miss a single beat and Harry continued to smile smugly from his place.
'My endless love.'
As the song ended, Amelia dropped her arm with the microphone and took a few deep breaths. Taron mirrored her actions.
'I’m sorry,' he whispered as they walked off the stage and back to the table. 'I should have told you that she was coming to mine.'
'Please don’t apologise. I’m an idiot for assuming that something was going on between you both.' Amelia finally smiled at Taron properly just as they made it back to the table and Harry couldn’t hold his smug grin in. 'Shut up, arsehole.'
'Hey now. You should be thanking me, Snookums.'
'Snookums?' Taron questioned through a chuckle.
‘We were a married couple in our new Christmas film and his character called me Snookums. Harry here refuses to call me anything else now.'
'Snookums. I like it just as much as Pretty Baby.'
Amelia could feel her heart burst and her stomach clench all at the same time. She got giddy when he called her love but hearing him call her Snookums was something else. Not to mention Pretty Baby. Throughout her career, she’d been called Pretty Baby Bray by so many people and it had become a point of annoyance for her. But hearing Taron call her Pretty Baby, without the Bray, made her heart do somersaults. He truly was one of a kind.
******
'I got some money ‘cause I just got paid,' Harry sang loudly into the microphone while Amelia held her tenth Snookums in the air as she swayed gently.
She started to loosen up a little bit after her fifth drink and by the eighth she was away with the fairies and signed herself and Harry up to sing together. Harry, being just as drunk if she was and if not even more drunk, jumped at the suggestion and immediately suggested they sing Saturday Night. Luke and Taron only laughed at the pair before they sat back back in their chairs with giant grins plastered on their faces as they watched the other two prance to the stage in fits of giggles.
'Oh, how I wish I had someone to talk to,' she sang back just as excitedly.
'I’m in an awful way,' they sang together, moving themselves so they were facing one another and laughing as the song carried on without them singing.
They were so busy laughing at one another and trying to catch their breaths that they didn’t finish the rest of the song. The alcohol that they had been drinking over the course of the evening had definitely made its way to their heads and made them feel like school children who were having a sleepover and staying up past their bedtimes. Their giggling got so bad that in the end, Kaine stopped the music and sent the two people who could barely stand up straight, let alone walk, back to their table. Taron and Luke greeted them with huge cheers and they dramatically bowed before falling into their seats and giggling.
'I’ve missed you,' Harry hiccuped as he flung an arm around Amelia’s shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek.
'Me too,' Amelia replied as she kissed Harry’s cheek back, feeling the stubble that was growing against her lips. 'Don’t ever let us not see one another for so long again.'
'I won’t. As soon as Luke suggested that we come and see you I jumped at the idea because I’ve missed you like crazy.'
Amelia and Harry’s relationship truly was one for the ages. They would say constantly that they didn’t feel like friends but siblings. Though they felt like those siblings who would playfully bicker and jokingly shove one another. Everyone who ever met them always said that they were always joking and laughing when they were together.
Including in interviews. Interviewers who had never met the pair would leave the room with the widest smiles and were always gushing about them. There was never a quiet moment in interviews and they bounced off of one another perfectly.
When Harry told Amelia that he had a boyfriend, Amelia had been a little worried to start. She was worried that her relationship with Harry would change and she wouldn’t get to see him as much. The complete opposite happened, however. When Amelia met Luke, she knew straight away that Harry’s relationship wasn’t going to affect their friendship at all. If anything, Luke brought Amelia and Harry closer together because they could go out as a group and have fun together.
******
'Taron, you have to watch this video,' Harry exclaimed in excitement. He turned his phone to Amelia so that she could see what video he was talking about and he immediately got a cushion to the head.
'You can’t bloody put that on!' She groaned dramatically. 'Taron, you can tell him to do one. You don’t have to watch the video.'
Truth be told, she didn’t want to watch the video because of the memories that surfaced when she did. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, the memories were still incredibly raw.
'Yeah but now I’m intrigued. Hook your phone up to the TV, Harry.'
Taron’s words made Amelia grumble again. The video that Harry was going to put on was Amelia’s least favourite interview and he knew that. The question that she was asked haunted her for months after it was aired and it made her think back to a time where she wasn’t necessarily the happiest behind the scenes.
'Okay so let’s take a look at the food we have here,' James spoke into the camera. Amelia, Harry and James sat around the table. They all looked incredibly nervous…including James who’d played the game multiple times before which didn’t instil much hope in the other two. 'We have, uhh, salmon smoothie, a beef tongue, bird saliva, a herring rollmop, a scorpion, fish head, hot sauce-'
'Is that safe? To do hot sauce I mean,' Harry asked with wide eyes.
'We’re about to find out, Harry,' James laughed as he spun the table one last time. 'and finally…bull penis.'
Between each item, the audience had been moaning groaning and Amelia felt herself gip at the stench some of the items on the table let off. She regretted ever telling Harry he could choose if they did it or not because at that moment she couldn’t think of anything worse to do than eat some of that stuff.
'So for the benefit of anyone who doesn’t know how the game works…Harry, Amelia and myself will be choosing food for another person at the table to eat before asking a question. If the person answers the question they don’t eat. If they don’t answer…it’s down the hatch.' A couple of audience members laughed in response. 'Now just so we’re clear, none of us have seen these questions so they could be on anything at all. I’ll go first and I’ll be asking Harry a question.'
'Right,' Harry sighed as he eyed the multitude of food in front of him. 'Can we not have hot sauce right away? Actually yeah, let me have it. Then I won’t be able to taste the rest of the food when I eat them.'
'Now you’ve said that, I’m going to give you the bull penis.' James spun the table until the plate with the fishy roll was in front of Harry.
'Haha you’re going to have to eat penis,' Amelia chuckled as Harry picked it up to sniff, immediately dropping it back onto the plate and gipping.
'Only if he doesn’t answer the question,' James answered, lifting his first card. 'Harry might give it to you to try for your question.'
'You dare, Harry..'
Chuckles filled the entire room and James even slapped his thigh in laughter.
'Okay, moving on with the game. Harry,' James paused as he read the question before he sat back with his lips rolled into his mouth. 'You’re here to promote your new Christmas film with Amelia, Christmas Staycation.'
'I am indeedy,' Harry answered slowly. He eyed James who giggled lightly.
'In the film you and Amelia kissed under the mistletoe but… who’s the better kisser, Amelia or your boyfriend?'
'How the hell can I answer that?!' Harry exclaimed with wide eyes. He looked at the bull penis in front of him and lifted the plate up to his nose once more. He regretted it instantly, however. 'They’re both really good kissers, just to let you know.'
'That wasn’t the question,' James laughed. 'I’ll ask you again just in case you forgot. Who’s the better kisser, your girlfriend or Amelia?'
'Yeah, Harry. That wasn’t the question,' Amelia repeated with her lips puckered playfully. She knew that there was no way Harry would answer the question. Not even if he was paid to answer it.
Harry took a deep breath before lifting the penis to his mouth and popping it in his mouth, chewing it slowly and gipping around it.
'Yeah, you eat that d…ang bull penis,' Amelia spoke slowly, turning to James and watching him try not to laugh. 'Don’t worry, Luke, babe, I’ve got your back. But you might not have a boyfriend anymore if he gives me something nasty in a second.'
Amelia spoke into the camera and winked as she made a heart with her hands and blew a kiss too. James couldn’t hold his amusement as he watched her interact with the camera while Harry sat and tried not to throw up around the penis he was eating.
A few moments later, Harry finished the food and instantly took a large gulp of water to wash it down. 'That was fucking nasty.'
Everyone cheered and James laughed harder than he had the whole segment. He silently ushered Harry to give Amelia a food to eat and he immediately put the scorpion in front of her. When he read the question he howled in laughter and had to drink more water to calm himself down.
'Amelia, you’re currently dating Henry Caville who we all know played Superman.'
'Oh god I know where this is going don’t I?' She asked through gritted teeth and Harry only nodded.
'Does he ever make you call him Superman in bed?'
Cheers and hollers from the audience deafened Amelia to the point where she could hardly hear James admit that he didn’t envy her. She closed her eyes and let out a large sigh before lifting the scorpion and wrinkling her nose at it.
'There was this one time…' she laughed hysterically and watched as James and Harry’s eyes alike widened thinking that she had actually called Henry Superman while in bed. 'No, he never made me call him Superman in bed, thankfully.'
'That’s boring. If it were me I’d make you call me Superman,' Harry joked, earning a death glare from Amelia. 'Close, close and finished.'
'You’re not funny.'
'No, I’m hysterical.'
'Amelia, it’s your turn to choose something for me to eat if I don’t answer whatever question it is that gets asked,' James spoke to bring everyone’s attention back to the game they were playing.
Amelia looked around the table to find something to present James with before she turned it around until the bird saliva was sitting in front of him. She could see the colour drain from his face and his hand lifted to his forehead.
'I’ve had to drink this before and it’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.'
Amelia laughed quietly before showing Harry the card to which he burst into fits of laughter and shook his head at James, 'Enjoy drinking it again, mate.'
'Is the question really that bad?'
Rather than telling James how bad the question was, Amelia straight up asked him and watched as his eyes grew three sizes bigger. 'Who’s the most high maintenance and hard to deal with backstage, me or Harry?'
Ooh’s and ahh’s erupted from the audience. Harry sat back in his seat with a smug grin on his face and pointed to Amelia with a wink. Amelia turned to her friend and flipped him off behind the card she was holding before she turned to James and pointed to Harry.
'And that’s all we have time for tonight! It’s been a pleasure.'
'Come on, James. Who’s the hardest to deal with backstage?' Harry goded with his tongue in his cheek. He was taking great pleasure in watching James struggle to come up with an answer.
'When you’re both together you’re honestly two of the most ridiculously hard to deal with. You’re continuously pulling pranks on me and you run away giggling when I try to get you.'
There wasn’t a single person in the audience not laughing and Amelia and Harry looked at each other laughing themselves. They loved playing small pranks and having as much fun together as they could when they were together. James’ face showed them that he didn’t really mean that they were both hard to deal with. In fact, he would never say anything but he loved when they would play pranks on him because it gave him a smile during the day.
'Being honest, there’s neither of you that are the hardest to deal with or high maintenance so I can’t actually answer the question.'
'Drink the bird saliva,' Harry declared.
'Drink it! Drink it! Drink it!' The audience’s chants left James turning to them with an unimpressed expression.
'You’re meant to be on my bloody side.'
'James… drink the saliva.'
After a deep breath, James necked the bird saliva and tried his best to keep it in his mouth but in the end he had to spit it out into the bucket by his feet. When he was sitting back up and glaring at Amelia and Harry, the cameras moved so that they were facing him.
'Ladies and gentlemen, this has been spill your guts or fill your guts with Amelia Bray and Harry Styles!'
After James’ final words, the TV in Taron’s living room went blank and Harry could be heard guffawing from his seat. Whenever he watched the video back he laughed just as hard as he had when he was filming it. Luke slapped his arm and turned to Amelia who was sitting motionless on the sofa.
She didn’t speak up for a while after the video had finished and everyone was starting to get a little bit worried about her.
'Everything alright, love?' Taron asked tentatively. 'I thought it was a really funny game.'
'It would have been funny if they’d asked me a different question.'
Harry sat forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. 'What do you mean? That was a hilarious question.'
'Again, it would have been.'
Amelia’s repetition of her first response left everyone in the room confused. She had quickly grown quiet and fragile almost as she sat next to Taron with her knees pulled up to her chest and Pickle by her side nuzzling into her.
'What do you mean ‘would’ have been?' Luke asked quietly.
Amelia hadn’t told Harry why she hated the interview so much and he never pushed her on it because he thought she was messing with him. But seeing her sit next to Taron genuinely almost in tears with her arms wrapped around her body made him see that maybe she wasn’t joking. He turned to Luke who shrugged her shoulders at him.
'Henry and I…we weren’t together anymore when we filmed that. We’d broken up the night before and I had to act like everything was fine.'
'Amelia, why didn’t you ever tell me?' Harry asked quickly, confused as to why he hadn’t known that his best friend was no longer in a relationship that day. He was confused and slightly hurt, though he knew that if Amelia didn’t tell him that there was a reason for it and he understood. 'I’d have made sure that there were no questions about him.'
'Because I didn’t want to believe that we weren’t together anymore. It was an argument that blew up in the hotel room and I wound up sleeping on the sofa in the room.'
'I’m so sorry,' Taron whispered as he wrapped his arm around Amelia and pulled her into his body where he held her tightly. She relished in having his arms around her again and she could feel herself becoming so comfortable that she let a few tears fall.
'It’s fine,' she whispered back, 'it was a while ago now and I should be over it.'
'Did you love him?' Taron’s question caught Amelia off guard. She nodded her head anyway.
'I think I could have been but I also don’t think I was.'
'You’re bound to still be upset when it wasn’t all that long ago and you had strong feelings for him. But you’ve got so many people around you who just want you to feel good, myself included.'
'Thank you, Taron.'
'That’s okay. I don’t want to take away from this moment and I’m sorry that I am but we really need to be heading off to the bed and breakfast if we’re going to get there in time.'
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Dinner Dates and Taxi Drivers II
part one, part three
Summary: Flo’s answer to your offer.
Word count: 2379
Warnings: underage drinking, smut
Your offer is graciously accepted with her downing her glass of wine and standing up. Toby has noticed you’re departing soon, nudging his other sister. Florence seems to shut them down with a quick look and you are by the door, getting ready to go.
“Oh.” Raffie and Isa are also putting their coats on.
Isa has always tried to be better than your brief rebellion when you were her age. You’d stay at your friends’ houses, or some girl’s if you’d kept your mouth shut long enough to maintain a relationship, for a week maybe, only having contact with Maxine if you saw her with her friends in the local Tesco. Isa likes to stay in London — apparently with you — if she doesn’t have to go to school. And sometimes she’ll skip it. Florence was right in saying she’s not the greatest influence. It’s not her fault she was born at the worst time to be given attention.
“Fucking stay here, Isa,” you mutter, letting both Pughs look at you and your sister. “You’re seventeen.”
“Raffie’s eighteen.”
Do you leave her? She’s going to go out anyway, and she’ll leave your mother anxiously sipping on her wine, telling Luna and Selene to only look up to Maxine. Going to a bar or something had you imagining talking and drinking and maybe actually getting to know Florence Pugh in a setting that is neither forced nor overly emotional. But you’re a sister first.
“Is it okay if they come with?” Florence nods. She and Raffie are close. She and Raffie like each other. To Isa, you say: “Don’t be a little bitch.”
“I have my fake,” she informs you. “I know you’re a lawyer and whatever, but—”
“Just because I’m letting you come, doesn’t mean I approve of your shit stirring.” Raffie chucks her vape to Isa. You sigh. “I won’t tell Mum.” Florence calls you a good sister.
If only she knew.
- - -
The bar is packed because today is a Friday and everyone likes this place. You had your eighteenth here. (And in Monaco, but your mum will never find out about the Oxford party.) Isa makes sure to keep at least two metres in front, but the security guard outside knows your family. “It’s alright,” you tell him, hoping your sister knows that you’ve let her crash your attempt at a casual date, “she’s with me.”
You make it to a booth far back, tucked away in a corner that is less densely packed and with noticeably less sticky floors. Rowdiness isn’t absent just yet, but Florence is less tense than before. Raffie and Isa sit down, shuffling on one side of the booth. What little shits.
Florence takes your hand (decisive) and pulls you into the other side. “We’ll go get drinks,” Raffie then says, getting up, Isa with her. This feels like a set up. “Four pints?”
It’s like Isa wants you to fuck her friends sister.
Which you will, you’re beginning to decide.
“Raff, don’t tell Mum…” She can’t be tipsy already. “Get some tequila shots, okay?” Both girls nod, Isa grinning because you did shots on New Year’s and ended up swimming in your neighbour’s pond with your very underage sisters.
Calm and collected (or at least attempting to appear so), Florence grabs your attention with her hand on your arm. “Little sisters are so annoying.” You laugh. “But I suppose I’m also a little sister. And you are.”
“My older sister is a lot more intolerable than I am to Isa,” you say. It’s true. “You don’t like her. You said that in the taxi.”
“I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d have known.” Her apology is sort of light-hearted, like she feels you don’t blame her. Of course you don’t. “But, tell me more about your fancy UN case, please.”
Hesitantly, you begin to explain what happened; how you almost got zero credit for your work, how your parents didn’t really care. It begins to flow, you get closer to her. She faces you, you face her, rambling about why seeing Boris Johnson outside of the yearly Christmas parties (“my mother comes from the most obnoxious of families”) was awful. Seeing him at those parties is bad enough. And Florence listens to every word, looking interested even if she isn’t, not noticing how you’re almost in between her legs and how your knees are touching.
You finish talking.
She barely gets out the whispered, “that’s cool,” as her eyes try so hard not to stare kisses into your lips.
It’s ballsy to kiss a movie star in a crowded pub. Someone could take a picture, video it. If that got out, you could lose all air of professionalism, potentially ruining your career.
“Fuck it,” you mutter, leaning forward with the most confidence you’ve felt with the absence of alcohol in a while. You’re still in between her legs, pulled in by her instant reaction, lips on hers as if no one else is watching. It’s an array of scintillating colours that stream across the lips pressed against yours, your mind confused because why is she so fucking attractive?
Open-mouthed now, they become greedy; both of you craving that feeling from each other. There’s no pause to whisper sweet nothings, no time for breathers unless you two snatch them from each other without slowing down the momentum. You wonder how many famous people she has kissed, briefly letting self-consciousness flutter through your stomach before she cups your face, dictating your movements. Her other hand goes to your waist, moving you even closer. She laughs when you pull away as the table snags your dress, and then laughs harder when you ignore that and continue kissing her with fervent passion.
Raffie and Isa come back for a fleeting moment, seeing what is happening at the table and leaving slower than they both thought they needed to. Florence doesn’t notice them, but you do, glancing at your sister before stopping for a second. “Where do you want to go?” You both know how this is going to end.
“Isn’t this place a b&b?” It was when you were younger, but you’re not sure. Florence leads you to the counter and you feel almost naked without her body heat crashing into yours.
The man at the bar says it still is, and that you’re lucky because there’s only one room left. He adds that there is only one bed. “Perfect!” Florence says, grabbing your hand with such dominance that you almost tell yourself not to blush out loud.
Stairs creaking, she and you get to the room, hands all over each other’s bodies. You kick the door open, pushed back against it by Florence. She manages to kiss her way inside, walking you back until your knees hit the bed and you lie down.
Parting to undress, Florence gets her jeans around her ankles, sitting beside you to pull them fully off. You kiss her neck, trailing a pattern of memories up and down, sucking, biting; leaving marks. “Let me take my top off.” You wait. It gets thrown on top of her jeans. “Okay, yeah, carry on.”
This time, you’ve got her pinned, tongue brushing her bottom lip, teeth grazing when kisses get too messy. She reaches a hand behind your back, tugging at the zip, letting its sound fill the space between your soft panting. “It was expensive,” you murmur as she runs her pinky down your now-exposed back. “Let me get it off.”
She sighs with faux frustration. “You could have done this before.”
“I was preoccupied.” Her laugh grates the bottom of your stomach as she lets you stand up and carefully remove the cursed garment. At least it made you look good.
It’s clumsy, getting the bras and panties off — clasps prove hard to undo in the dark, elastic gets twisted. But then she’s back underneath you, hair sprawled out behind her, eyes full of anticipation. Your knee parts her thighs, lips finding their way down through her midriff, and she moans. A proper moan. It’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.
Quickly finding her clit, you rub circles, seeing how many more of those moans you can take listening to before she makes you come instead. Florence hisses as you pinch it. “Fuck.”
“You?” You quirk your eyebrows up at her, not that she can see. “Yeah, I’m getting to it.” She laughs quietly to herself. It’s cut off by a gasp as your run your fingers through her folds, ego being boosted as soon as you feel how wet she is for you.
You make the quick decision to slide your body back a bit, lower your head where your hands once were. You have to remind her with a light tap on her thigh to open her legs again, and she complains that you’re taking so long that it’s starting to ache. Hands gripping her soft skin, you ask, “I can, yeah?” and she tells you to stop being so slow. (“Just do anything, please,” she says.) So you do with your tongue the same thing you did with your fingers; circles on her clit, up and down her slit. Her hand holds your head down as she gets louder and louder, until your tongue presses inside of her and she’s practically pulling your hair.
You pause just before she orgasms.
Sitting up, you’re smirking because it’s fun to be annoying. “What the fuck was that for?” She’s actually frustrated now. Angry, even.
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’ve had an idea, that’s all.”
She asks what it is, and you tell her to sit up against the headboard; “make sure you’re comfortable.” First, you turn the lamp on, the ancient shade dulling most of the light so you can only just see more than earlier. Then, kissing her again, you lower yourself down on top of her. “Oh?” Florence tilts her head. “You do this often?” It’s a joking stab at something Raffie and Isa said in the taxi on the way here. You slept around when you were younger. So what?
“As a matter of fact,” you defend, “you’re the first person I’ve slept with this month.” This month’s only just begun. It makes her laugh in between her small intakes of air that morph to deep breaths to keep composed as you press your lips to her breast, no longer paying attention to the words leaving her mouth. She’s mainly telling you how good you’re doing.
Bringing her back to that state of release, you work your fingers inside, thumb rubbing at her clit. Her head rests on your shoulders as she either says “yes” or swears that Catholic school told you were sins. This is probably a sin as well, but it feels better than getting an A in maths. Florence keeps you going until she’s fully coming undone in your arms, no longer able to let out her titillating moans.
You’re not sure if she’s the kind to repay the favour. Not that you’d mind, of course. But it’s only a short break before she’s got you grinding down on her, calling you a good girl because she’s so very pleased. “I want you,” you get out, “to just—”
“It’s not very nice to be fucking edged, is it?”
“Oh, shut up.” She’s got her fingers inside you now, like yours were. Although, you’re probably having more fun because you’ve waited so long, listened to the sound of her having a very nice time, and that’s made you so turned on that you’d still try to get off if someone told you the building was on fire. Your body was on fire.
And, like you’ve just gone up the world’s tallest rollercoaster, there’s a vertical drop down that has you trying not to be louder than she was. (You like winning.)
You almost collapse on top of her from the energy used. She calls you lazy for not having more stamina. You’re just exhausted from trying to hold whatever that sound she made you want to scream at the back of your throat.
- - -
Blades of morning light slice through the thin curtains as you stretch your arms. She’s not beside you, having decided to go for a wee at the obnoxious hour of six in the morning. She’d popped back in to tell you she was getting tea from downstairs, and that you should sleep seeing as you were so tired after round one.
Round six was when you’d called it quits properly.
The duvet isn’t warmer than what her body had produced, so you finally give in and get up. Neither of you have spare clothes.
You pick your underwear off the floor with a frown, putting them back on. You climb into bed when your resilience depletes at the sight of the dress from last night. “I’m not putting that on again,” you tell the sheep holding the bathroom door open.
“You don’t have to.” Florence smiles at the sight of you in your underwear, too lazy to pull the covers over yourself. She can see evidence of where your sweet spots are. You’re glad you’re not going to be wearing anything particularly revealing in front of your mother any time soon. She holds up a Café Coco tote bag. “Went back home.” You’re not quite sure what to reply, so she does so for you. With something else. “Were you talking to the doorstop?”
“Okay, Miss Actress, sorry not all of us are surrounded by our worshippers twenty-four/seven.” She winces slightly. “Sorry, Flo…”
“Yep, Y/n,” she brushes it off. “Although I’m not sure that you’ve been around me twenty-four/seven recently.”
“Who was it that was screaming my name?”
“Who was it that was calling you ‘good girl’?” She’s got you there. “It’s okay if you have mummy issues, babe. Praise kinks are perfectly reasonable.” Her patronising tone makes you almost bring up her avoidance of compliments, but you forget about it when she’s teleported from just inside the room to next to you and is kissing you softly.
It’s ruined when she throws a hoodie in your face. “My mum wants you to come back to our house. Get dressed.”
@pewpughpew @ridlz
#florence pugh#black widow#florence pugh fanfiction#fanfiction#marvel#yelena belova#mcu#florence pugh one shot#smut#florence pugh smut#florence pugh x reader#florence pugh x y/n#fluff#florence pugh fluff
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Obsessed with your imagines you so when they have 3 kids and they’re all older! What about one where Harry has to have a sex talk with his kids OR y/n and Harry come home to find their kids throwing a party? I think both could be super funny
this has me excited cause i love the idea of them throwing a party when y/n and harry are at date night!! (does contain smut)
oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16
“We’re so fucking screwed.”
“Belle, for the millionth time, chill the fuck out.”
But how the fuck was anyone supposed to be chill when there was a full-on house party, close to being a rave, occurring in their house? A house that was their mum’s life work. A house party that their parents new nothing about. A night where absolutely anything and everything could go wrong.
The three siblings stood at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the door, looking around at the scenes occurring between each room. There were girls whispering to each other on the sofas, there was a group of guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and there was a large group of people hanging around by the pool and some even taking a dip. What had meant to be a low-key party had managed to turn into the whole neighbourhood plus the next town over. It was completely overboard.
“Who’s idea was this again?” Belle asked, clearly not understanding the full reasoning behind a full fledged party in their house.
“All of ours.” Oli responded, when in reality it was really just his, and a bit of Felix, idea.
“Nope. I’m not getting grounded because you two dickheads wanted to be rebels.” Belle put her hands up as if to stop this whole situation. She did not want to be a part of this and yet had somehow got screwed up with it all.
“So what are you going to do?” Felix asked.
“Anywhere where this doesn’t have my name stamped all over it.” Belle gestured around her, all of them groaning when they heard something smash from a nearby room. They were actually going to be locked up forever after this.
“Belle, mum and dad are out for the night. Dad said he booked a hotel for them to stay over at, so they won’t even be back until tomorrow morning.” Oli explained, trying to calm down his very nervous sister.
“Yeah, plus if you’re so insistent on leaving why did you get so dressed up?” Felix did have a point. Belle had gone through the effort tonight to be looking as best she could. She was sporting a little black dress with black fishnet tights and her trusty Doc Martens. It was a very colourful outfit, as she would explain. Belle had even gone to the effort of adding glue-on gems to her makeup. Whereas her brothers were just wearing sweaters and trousers and trainers. Typical teenage boys.
“I’ll bet that’s why.” Oli nodded behind Belle and smirked as he watched his little sister turn around.
Megan Dover. Belle’s high school crush and cleverest person in the year. Felix and Oli caught Belle blush when their little sister looked at Megan, waving to her cutely. Belle was a lot more introverted than Megan, but Belle didn’t mind. She admired that Megan was so outspoken and kind and smart, but too bad they didn’t truly know of Belle’s existence. At least, not really.
“Alright fine, i’ll stay, but just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Belle rolled her eyes and then walked off in the direction of the kitchen - if she was ever going to speak to Megan she’d need at least 4 shots in her system.
“Be safe little B.” Oli waved her off and then the two brothers looked at each other knowingly. “Is Heather here?”
“Not yet no, think she’s coming with the girls in a bit.” Felix checked his phone as his brother questioned him. “What about Bea?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“Why? I thought we weren’t allowing anyone upstairs?”
“Dude she’s my girlfriend, I think she gets a pass.” Oli patted his brothers back and then saunters up the stairs two at a time to go and find his girlfriend and reintroduce her to the party.
Another smash of something glass sounding came from the kitchen, along with a turn of screams and mumbles of oops.
“Fuck, we are so screwed.” Felix muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever was now broken.
••••
Meanwhile, you and Harry were basking in each other’s presence at a fancy new restaurant downtown called Caste Inn.
Harry decided it was time for you to have a treat and so was taking you out for dinner and then retreating to a fancy hotel, where he would not let you rest for the whole night. He was already being really handsy this evening, but you kept swatting his prying hands away because you were in public.
“Babe, c’mon i’m dying here!” He whined as you swatted his hand away from the skirt of your dress for the fifth time since mains. You were lucky you were in a crescent shaped booth so it was hard for anyone to see what was going on underneath the table, but you still felt so exposed.
“Quit it Harry.” You sniped, returning your attention back to the desserts menu. The restaurant was that kind of place where the portions are sparrow sized and yet cost you as much as it would to donate a kidney, so there was no surprise that you were still hungry and had room for dessert.
“Just wanna love on my wife.” He pouted next to you, keeping his arm slunk around the back of the booth to continue to caress your far shoulder delicately.
“We’re in the middle of a restaurant, you’re crazy.” You snickered, trying your hardest to focus on the desserts; Tiramisu, Chocolate Orange Gateau, Pecan Pie, Creme Brulé and an endless list of more mouthwatering yumminess.
“Fucking crazy for you, yes.” He kissed your cheek once, twice and then bit it too on the third, making you moan slightly at the exposure of it all. “You used to let me do this kind of thing all the time, what happened hey?”
“I got old.” You laughed, but really you felt saddened by the thought of it. You were approaching your forties and you felt as though time wasn’t on your side anymore. Life was all flying by so fast and it was becoming so hard to stop it for a moment to see how beautiful it all is. Harry could tell you were faking your happiness in that moment and he hated that you felt this way. He loved you. He would worship the ground you walk upon. Nothing would ever be too much of an ask for him if it meant keeping your happy. Yes, you were getting older, but it didn’t mean that was a bad thing. At least you were getting older together and becoming maturer together.
“Talk to me, love.” He gently asked, knowing there was something on your mind that was bothering you.
“I just… I just feel like i’m getting older—”
“You are love, yes.” He interrupted you, which earned him a slap to the thigh. He didn’t let your hand go though, leaving it to rest on his tight thigh.
“And then suddenly that’s going to be it. No more Y/N.”
“Don’t say things like that to me, please love.” Harry shook his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter.
“And I feel like i’ll have regretted not doing so many things. Like I won’t have lived my life.”
“Things like?”
“Things like riding a motorcycle with you. Things like staying up all night with a bottle of wine and a good bit of Elvis. Reckless things, like skinny dipping or crashing a high school party. Things like, having my husband finger fuck me in a public restaurant. I remember when everything seemed so free and chaotic and I loved it. Now I feel stuck.”
“Stuck how, love?” Harry leaned in closer to you, his eyes full of love and determination because if that’s what you wanted he could give you all those things - especially the orgasm.
“I’m a mum, H. You’re a dad. We’re parents,m. Good ones at that. Aren’t we supposed to be grown up and responsible now? We don’t get to take risks anymore, because we have a family right? God, I sound so pathetic.” You sighed and put the menu down, not thinking about which pudding you wanted to fill yourself up with anymore.
“Babe. If you want to ride a motorcycle and go skinny dipping then let’s fucking do it. Why are you so afraid to hold back? Because we have kids, because darling believe me when I tell you - however much it disturbs me - our kids are out doing just as many reckless and crazy things as we used to do. Maybe we should fuck the prestigious system and show our children, all parents - including us - that adulthood, parenthood, doesn’t define the choices you make. We do.”
You couldn’t stop looking at your husband, drinking in every last drop of his beauty. His words filled your heart with rose petals and chocolates, warming you up delightfully. God, you were so lucky to have him. He helped you through the most toughest of times and continued to stick with you, not because a ring says he has to, but because he loves you. Undeniably and irrevocably loves you.
That was all it took for you to comply.
Quickly, you moved one of your legs under the table cloth so it draped over Harry’s thighs and made an opening between your legs. The cloth hid everything well, along with the dirty napkins that sat upon your laps.
“Wh- what are you doing love?” Harry asked confused, after not hearing a word back from you for his earlier speech.
“Harry I love you, I do, but will you just shut up and fuck my pussy with your fingers already.” You whispered wetly against his ear with your lips. He groaned at the words and tightened his grip around your leg, widening the gap he had to work with.
His hand slid underneath your dress slowly, squeezing the flesh of your thighs in tease, until he got to where your panties were. Or at least where they should be.
“Shit, you’re not wearing any pants?” Harry asked quizzically, pushing his fingers against your glistening pussy and feeling just how ready you were for him.
“Oh fuck!” You muffled out before Harry quickly slapped your slit because you were making too much noise, which only then made you squeal a bit more. He slapped your cunt hard enough the second time for you to get the memo that you needed to be quiet - but fuck was that a challenge. As much as you can be quiet, you just don’t like to be. You like knowing that your moans and whines turn Harry in even more, just as much as you love hearing his.
“Fucking hell, soaked already.” His fingers toyed with the folds of your cunt, feeling how puffy they were between his ringed fingers. “Gotta be quiet for me okay?” Just as he started pushing his delicious fingers inside of you, the waiter turned up at the table with a cheery face and not a bouncing clue what was happening between the two of you.
“Desserts?” He asked politely with his charming smile, but you didn’t see it for too long before having to close your eyes shut at the sudden movement of Harrys fingers. He wasn’t stopping on the waiters behalf, in fact he was more forcefully going for it. He moved his fingers in circles inside of you, thumbing over your clit in the way he knew you desired most. He was insatiable.
Reckless.
“No, just the bill please. Need to take my wife home to take care of some things.” Harry spoke for you both, not understanding why he was being so open with the amount of information he was giving away. But fucking hell you didn’t care because his fingers were providing you pleasures beyond reason.
“Yes Sir. I’ll only be two minutes.” He smiled again before he was gone, taking the menus with him.
“Here that baby?” Harry whispered into your ear, moving his fingers more freely now there was less of an audience, “you’ve got two minutes to cum.”
“Wha—”
Questioning his authority would have to wait, for Harry got to work very quickly and perfectly. His fingers slicked in and out of you so erotically and if it wasn’t for the live music and loud chatter of the room, the sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you would be heard by everyone. His fingers curled to all the right places, touching the most sensitive parts of your walls and hell did it feel blissful.
“I’d say you’ve got about a minute left baby, and I think you can cum for me before then. Can’t you? Or am I not good enough for that kind of release anymore?” Harry taunted you and pressed wet kisses to your ear. You were too lost in euphoric paradise to notice, or even care, whether anyone could see or was watching you both. You were too focused on your husband. Your Harry.
“N-no. I can cum. You’re so good - shit - so g-good.” You stammered out, breathless from the air stolen from your lungs because of this erotic moment. This was so bad behaved of you both that you were starting to get a high off of it.
“Cum for me then baby. Do it. I’ve got you.” He kissed your lips to capture the moan that trailed off your tongue as you reached your high. You felt so high and yet so safe. Harry steadied you as your legs shook and kissed you senseless, to quieten your whines. He admired that you had been so willing for this and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a raging hard-on right now.
“I love you,” you raced out quickly, “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips again and withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt. You picked up a napkin but he quite quickly took it away from you, throwing it to the other side of the table.
“What are you doing?” You whisper shouted, needing to clean yourself up.
“More like what are you doing?”
“Cleaning my mess.” You said frustratedly.
“Leave that to me.” He spoke whilst holding intense eye contact with you, bringing his fingers that were coated in your arousal to his lips and sucking them dry. Every last drop worked its way into his mouth and he salivated at the taste - the smell.
“Harry—”
“The bill Sir.” The waiter interrupted you without knowing. Harry took out his wallet and used his card on the card machine, before signing his name on the cheque as if to affirm that he has paid.
“Thank you.” Harry spoke kindly, completely different to how he was with you all but two minutes ago.
“Thank you Sir, Ma’am. Have a lovely rest of your evening.” And he wad gone again with his smile.
Harry turned to you with the largest grin on his face, “Oh we will.”
••••
“Oli stop eating the leftover lasagne it’s for mums lunch!”
Belle was rushing around trying to chill everything down. The party was so out of control that even Oli and Felix were wasted. Megan was blowing hot and cold with her too, so she had no idea where she stood with them.
People were everywhere. Too many people that it was becoming claustrophobic. Felix was currently playing beer pong with a group of his friends, Heather attached at his hip, whilst Oli was sitting on the kitchen countertop eating cold lasagne. The boy was like chuffing Garfield. Belle was doing her best to keep calm, but as the night progressed it started to become worse and worse as it got harder to control.
As Belle turned to leave the kitchen, her brother clearly not listening to her, she bumped into someone. Kyle. Fucking Kyle. The guy who had obsessed over her to the point where Harry was seriously considering getting a restraining order on him to protect his daughter. He was a straight A creep and Belle hadn’t even realised he’d been invited to this party. Then again, over half of these people had most definitely not been invited.
“Oh hey Isabelle.” He stressed her whole name, knowing how much she hated it. Well, she didn’t hate her name she just hated him saying her name.
“Go away Kyle.”
“But I just got here.”
“And now you can just leave. Party’s ending anyways.” Belle stood her ground, but her hands were shaking from being even remotely close to this guy. He was disgusting to the point where if you were stuck between having to choose between being with him or eating mouldy cheese, you’d eat the cheese on a fucking silver platter.
“Looks quite alive to me.”
“Well i’m shutting it down and you’re going to leave. Now.”
“You need to liven up Belle.” Kyle chuckled through his nose, making him look scary as he towered over Belle, “let me help you.” He leaned forwards to grab her arm but she was quick to push him away.
“No! Leave me alone!” Belle shouted, trying to dodge around him but he was quicker. He grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back to him, chest touching chest. “Get off me Kyle.” Belle squirmed in his hold, which only made Kyle happier - the creep.
“C’mon Bella, live a little.”
“My name’s not Bella and I told you to get the fuck off of me.” Belle pulled back with all her might, whilst kicking him square in the balls - probably hard enough so he’ll never be able to have children - and then drove her knee up to crack his nose - successfully. Damn, that felt good. Heavily badass, actually.
“You fucking psycho!” Kyle held his nose and his balls in pain, straightening himself up as if to launch himself with fury at Belle. Luckily for her the outburst between the pair had caught attention of people - including Oli and Felix.
Oli was quick to step in front of Kyle, Felix just behind him. “You dare lay a fucking finger on my sister and I swear to you you’ll regret it.” Oli threatened, fists curled tight at his sides.
Heather came to hug Belle, comforting as she cried through the after shock of the situation. She’d been so brave and handled herself so well though. “You okay?” She kindly asked.
“Y-yeah.” No.
Everyone was now watching. The music had been muted to the point where you could tell it was playing but you couldn’t tell which song it was. Friends of Oli and Felix were standing close by in case things got messy, which normally only happened between the two brothers and not this way. Doors could be heard opening and shutting as people came in and out from places to watch the debacle occur between the hosts of the party and the unwelcome visitor. Oli and Felix knew they had to be careful though, because one wrong video and it could badly effect their dad’s career. Belle shook in Heathers arms and wished this nightmare of an evening to be over.
“Oh the whore’s not worth it anyways.” Kyle laughed, rolling his eyes as he pointed towards Belle.
“The fuck did you just call my daughter?”
Oh fucking shit balls.
“Dad?” Belle asked warily, seeing his dad stood in the doorway of the front door, her mum standing close behind him with her hand tightly clutched to his. As much as Belle was terrified that her parents had busted them, she also felt safe in their presence.
“Oh and here comes perfect-dad-of-the-year Harry Styles to the rescue.” Kyle teased which made Felix move forward in protest of his words.
“Fix.” Harry sternly called his name, making his son stop and look towards his dad who was shaking his head with a soft smile. Harry walked over towards Belle first, you still clutched tightly to him. “You alright?” He asked sincerely, not looking cross or disappointed at all. Belle nodded quickly and kept her head pressed to Heather’s chest. Harry turned to see his boys, raising his eyebrows to wordlessly ask them the same question to which they nodded too.
Harry dropped your hand, leaving you to stand with your sons, and left your forehead with a kiss before making his way to Kyle. “You okay boys?” You asked again, even though you knew Harry just asked.
“Yeah. Are you mum?” Oli asked, coming to wrap his arm around his mums neck to comfort her. He was so kind and thoughtful, just like his dad.
“Listen up, Kyle.” Harry started, keeping a good distance between him and the boy, “If you ever come near my family again i’m ordering a restraining order. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you break that order you’ll be going to jail. Big league jail too. Again not a threat, a promise. So you’re going to leave my house, this property in its’ entirety and go home to sit in your room and think about whether you would prefer to be in a prison cell instead. Do you understand?”
Okay, you’d be lying if you said his authority didn’t turn you on.
“Y-yeah.” Kyle mumbled pathetically.
“I said do you understand?” Harry repeated again, clearly not satisfied with the answer given.
“Yes Mr Styles.” Kyle said more surely, before scramming from the house, from the party and from the neighbourhood.
“Now everyone out of my house before I call the police.” Everyone knew how that was not an empty threat and dashed out of his house. Some looked at him in awe, because this was probably their once and only chance of being in the presence of the Harry Styles. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to think.
“Should we—” Belle started to talk but you cut her off.
“No, hunny. Let me go talk to your dad. You lot,” referring to your children and girlfriends who’d kindly stayed behind in support, “can go fetch some bin liners and start cleaning this all up.” You pointed around to the mess that was your house, before walking off to the kitchen.
You looked around at the mess. A broken vase. Litter everywhere. Half-drunken drinks left on the table. Bottle openers you definitely didn’t own before tonight. Trousers? You couldn’t help but giggle at the surrounding sight.
“What’s got you laughing?” Harry asked, still in his fancy shoes and fancy coat, you still in your fancy heels and your fancy coat. Yet, you were both standing in what looks like a garbage dump site. Harry moved his hand away from his face and looked at you with a blank expression.
“You were right!” You laughed.
“Your reaction as if that’s a bloody miracle, love, which kind of an ego crush, but continue.” He rolled his eyes and you rolled yours in response. You clicked your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he kept his wrapped around his own obviously still closing himself off.
“Our kids are being reckless and crazy.” You recalled dinners earlier conversation, smiling up at him in admiration.
“I didn’t actually mean it, it was just a quick way to make you feel better.” He groaned in frustration.
“Well gee thanks babe!” You laughed at the whole irony of this situation. “Harry, babe, look at me,” you had to used your hand to turn his cheek to face you, stroking his cheek to calm him, “adulthood - parenthood - doesn’t define the choices we have to make. We do. And our children, apart from that last little bit, seemed like they had the most freeing and most brilliant night yet! Let them be reckless H. Let them make mistakes. Just because this happened doesn’t make us bad parents, and it doesn’t make us bad parents if we decide no punishment—”
“Ha like that’s going to happen!” Harry cut you off and you glared at him to just shut up.
“Just shut up, you oaf. Let the kids live while they’re young.”
“You did not just reference one of my songs.” Harry looked to the ceiling as he smiled widely, before shortly laughing at how cheesy that was. “Oh my god Y/N!”
“What? Was is that bad?”
“Yes, babe. Yeah it really was.” He looked back down at you to see you smiling and he couldn’t help but cup your cheeks and kiss you silly. His perfect lips fit yours and you tasted him until you couldn’t breathe. “I love you.”
“I love you. Now go help clean up.” You ordered him, making him look at you confused.
“What the hell have I done to deserve this?”
“You booked the hotel for next weekend instead of this weekend you div. Now go.” You smacked his backside and he strolled back over to you and pushed you into the counter. You gasped at the sudden motion.
“Do that again and let’s see what happens.” He whispered dangerously against your lips.
“Go clean up and then see what’s waiting in our bedroom.” You bit your lip and tugged Harry’s hand to under your dress, giving him only a slight feel of how wet you were before letting his hand go and walking away.
“Kids, hand me a bloody bin bag. Now!”
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Leather and Lace
The one where Harry goes to the Grammy's and Y/N is his date
Word count: 4,960
A/N: Hello beautiful friends! Harry at the Grammy's just blew me away, the leather look is all I want to talk about for the rest of my life.
I was feeling inspired and decided it was only fitting to continue Adore You. Part two is Three Time following nominations. So this is part three. Yes, I have a soft spot for Harry and Atticus. Will always write for them if the inspiration strikes.
warnings: smut (female pleasure), pandemic
There's been one thought running through Y/N's head for most of the day, and Harry can tell because it's nearing five pm and she has not started on dinner. Instead, she's sitting on the backyard steps that give her the beautiful view of the pacific ocean, an empty glass of wine in hand.
Harry doesn't say anything, just sits next to her, knowing she will speak when she's ready, but he also knows she enjoys the quiet moments with him.
Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, letting out a deep breath before settling down the wine glass to wrap her arms around his bicep.
"You asked me an important question."
"Wasn't that important." He shrugs.
"Harry," No nickname making sure he knows she's serious. "It is important. You asked me to be your date to the Grammys where you're opening the show and are a three-time nominee during a pandemic."
"Well, when you put it like that." He teases.
Y/N and Harry made two years of dating on February 16. To celebrate, they had dinner from their favorite Italian food place with chocolate strawberries for dessert that Atticus made for them with the help of Mitch and Sarah, who were more than pleased to take him for the night. It was a beautiful day primarily spent in bed talking and enjoying each other, reminding each other how much they were loved and would continue to be as years went on.
Two years and their relationship has been well hidden. Honestly, Jeff has been impressed at how not one word has gotten out. This may be due to only close friends and family knowing about the relationship. Also that they spent almost one entire year inside due to this ongoing pandemic.
She's not worried about others finding out about her relationship with Harry; that isn't her big concern; it is what they will say about her and Atticus. Harry is a single dad to the world, and Atticus is his first priority, and everyone knows that; she does not want to be the reason they write about how Harry is a neglecting father for dating someone so openly. She fears the backlash and how it can affect how Harry sees her.
Reasonably, Y/N knows that won't happen and that Harry sees her as his life partner as he's told her on multiple occasions. Also, the assurance that Atticus gives to her by calling her Mum more openly around their family. The constant I love you's get her through it.
"I understand if you aren't ready, love."
"Don't think I'll ever be ready, but there are lots of times where I just find myself wanting to shout it from the rooftops how much I love you." Harry smiles, knowing he's felt the exact same way.
"Yes, I'll be your date to the Grammys." She breathes out after a moment of silence.
Harry sits up straight, shifting to make her look him in the eyes. "Yeah, you will?"
"I'd be honored."
Harry's smile is breathtaking, and the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. It's passionate and full of thank you's because she knows how much this means to him.
He pulls back but not before pecking her lips twice.
"I'm going to call Jeff." Harry rushes inside, leaving her alone once more, but a sincere smile is left on her face.
Y/N said yes because even though a part of her wanted to say no, the urge to say yes won because to be there by his side holding his hand no matter the results win her over.
She says yes because as much as she may have wanted to say no, the urge to say yes and be there by his side, holding his hand no matter the results, wins her over.
Harry comes back ten minutes later, a bottle of champagne in hand, with his eyes shining bright as if he had already won the award. "Jeff said it's all set. He's going to be our third wheel for the night."
She laughs, knowing very well he loves when Jeff has to be around them without his wife now. Always teasing him, but also very happy for him.
"Pop that open then! Let us celebrate." They walk back into the house, getting glasses, when they hear small steps approaching them.
Atticus is thrilled at hearing the news about Harry performing at the Grammys. He got even more excited when he found out Harry was taking Y/N as his date. Told them that she would be the prettiest on the carpet, Harry had pouted, asking what about him. Only to agree when Atticus said no one's beauty compares to his Mum's.
Harry had asked Glenne to watch over Atticus, and she eagerly accepted. They let Atticus know, and he was over the moon excited. Atticus knew his Auntie Glenne had a hard time saying no to him.
In a different time, if there was no pandemic, Harry knows Atticus and Y/N would have been the perfect dates for what is supposed to be a joyous night.
Grammy day arrived, and Harry walked the red carpet alone.
It's something all three agreed on, not at all wanting to steal any attention when it was such a big debut for Harry. As much as Harry wanted photos with her, he knew this was the way to go; she would be sitting next to him for the rest of the night, which he was thankful for.
Harry felt comfortable and happy in his red carpet look. He was wearing a green and yellow check tweed jacket and a tartan sweater combo worn, flared trousers, and lavender boa. It was a bit different but entirely himself, and that's all he wanted.
As soon as he's done posing for photos, he has his mask back on and is ushered into his changing room to change for his performance happening very soon.
Y/N is waiting in there chatting with Sarah, and when Harry opens the door, he's taken back by her beauty. Yes, he saw her dressed at home, but she seems like a dream here in this new light. Y/N is wearing a lilac satin backless dress, a long slit going up her left leg. She's wearing gold heels that their wonderful friend Harry Lambert acquired for her. The gold primrose signet ring adorned her right-hand ring finger. A few more that she has gifts from her mother and others she bought for herself, but his attention is on the one he gives her because even as she is in a conversation with someone she's fidgeting with, she has the feel of it under her fingers.
"Clear the room, friends," Jeff announces. "Styles here has to get ready. We can start heading to the stage."
Everyone is up and out in a matter of seconds, Jeff shutting the door behind him, telling him he only has fifteen minutes.
More than enough.
"Are you going to help me or just sit there ogling me?"
She smirks. "If I help, there's no saying you'll get clothes on in time."
Harry feels a twitch in his trousers and knows she's right. He huffs, not bothering to argue, just throwing his lavender boa in her direction.
"I'll always accept a striptease."
"I should have had Jeff kick you out as well," Harry says, not meaning a single word.
Y/N pouts. "Not nice, H."
"Baby, please. No more teasing, not really a fan of going on television with a boner, especially in leather." Harry stops her before she can continue on.
"Alright, I'll behave."
Harry breathes a sigh of relief because he's always so close to caving in. She has that effect on him.
Y/N sits there, turned on by Harry changing his outfit. What she wishes she was home instead because watching and not being able to touch is absolute torture.
Harry shimmy himself into the leather pants wanting to get Y/N to laugh, and it works like he knew it would.
"Got a nice ass, Styles. Might have to take it for a ride."
Harry mutters a fuck, and she's giggling. "It's like you hate me."
"On the contrary, I adore you."
"Yeah, well, hand me the jacket, please."
Y/N gets up, the black leather cropped jacket in hand; she stands behind him, guiding him to slip in his left arm, followed by his right. It rests perfectly on his shoulders; she let her hands slide down his arms before turning him around and getting a good look at the completed fit.
She takes a step back as Harry reaches for the mint feathered boa slipping it over his shoulders before dramatically swinging it over his left shoulder. He poses a hand on his hip.
"What's the verdict?" He's biting back a laugh.
"I'm in love. You should ask for my help in designing a look more often." Y/N's gaze has not left his exposed torso. The butterfly fly tattoo starting back at her, Harry's a bit leaner, but he's never looked, fitter. Definitely, feel lucky she can run her fingers over his abs as soon as they get home.
"You recommended no shirt."
"And look how right I was. Your fans are going to go crazy."
"There's only one person I care about going crazy." He steps forward, pressing a kiss to her neck before trailing up to her lips. Leaving soft kisses, not giving her more, and she needs it. She needs him to push her up against a wall and just take her.
"Trust me, baby. I'm showing so must restraint right now. Fuck, you need to walk out now before you're late."
Harry smirks; he likes knowing the effect he has on her. She's the reason he's wearing leather, having confessed thinking he'd look really good. And right she was. "Need a good luck kiss."
Y/N nods, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, the heels adding a few extra inches making her aligned perfectly with his plump pink lips. She's gentle as she connects their lips; he wraps a hand around her waist before taking control of the kiss, slipping his tongue inside; she lets out a soft moan as he kisses her with all he has. Harry pulls away, a dimpled grin on his face. "Lots of luck in that kiss." a
She nods, still in a daze. "I'll be watching, baby."
Harry and Y/N walk out hand in hand, masks on as they find Jeff, who directs him to the stage entrance, a whispered I love you and a final kiss. He's walking towards the stage, greeting each of his band members lingering a second longer with Sarah.
Y/N was grateful she was allowed to watch the performance from a hidden side stage with Jeff by her side. Those three minutes of Harry singing, she was left in awe as she always is; he's got a way of capturing your full attention. She let out a gasp when Harry threw the boa and turned to have exposed his chest, a broad smile on her face. Jeff was trying to stifle a laugh next to her, and she knew he would be passing this information along.
She felt lucky to be loved by Harry.
As soon as Harry finished performing, Jeff ushered her to his changing room where she could watch the other performances as they waited for Harry to join them once more before going to sit at the socially distanced tables.
Harry came back, a deep smirk on his face, his mint boa now resting on Mitch's neck. "What you think, love?"
"You were wonderful; you and the band just killed it. I felt like it was my first time listening to it. Those note changes were beautiful." She hugs him, happy to have him in her arms again. "Get changed, not much time."
Harry nods, going to the clothes rack but comes back to give Y/N a kiss. She feels herself melt into his touch. She pulls away and sees his green eyes glistening. "Thank you for being here." Before she can respond, he's walked away and changing into his previous outfit.
Harry is dressed, and Jeff ushers them out. Harry leads, greeting people as they walk by, occasionally stopping for someone. Y/N falls behind, smiling at everyone from behind a mask, she laughs, remembering others can't see it, but hopefully, they feel it. She spots a women's restroom and grabs Jeff's arm to get him to stop. He turns concerned. She leans in close, letting him know she's heading to the restroom and will catch up soon.
Y/N is walking out of the restroom heading down the hall when she stops hearing her name called. She turns and finds it's her good friend Julia Michaels.
"Hi darling," Y/N greets a large smile hiding behind her mask. "You look brilliant." Julia was dressed in a black gown adorned with white patterns resembling seashells and her tattoos on full display. Y/N was in awe.
"Thank you! As do you." She says, pulling her in a hug. "Is that a bit of an accent I hear?"
Y/N laughs. "Don't know about that; I've been living in London for years now. Might be that I've been around my British friends constantly."
"That or-"
Julia is interrupted by a man calling her name. Y/N sees it's her boyfriend, JP Saxe.
"Ah, the beau is calling for you, it seems." Y/N teases.
"Oh bummer, I love chatting with you. I would tell you all about him, but I'd expect the same."
"What do you mean?" She feigns confusion, but Julia sees past her.
"Well, who's your date?"
She can feel her face warm, knowing exactly who she's referring to.
"I came with my boyfriend," Y/N answers proudly.
Before Julia can respond, Y/N feels a hand on her back and turns to find Harry behind her. "Calling for us to head to our seats, nominations up next."
"Okay, H." She smiles, knowing there was a look of concern for her hiding behind the mask.
Harry seems to remember she was speaking with someone.
"Hello, Julia, lovely music. This one always plays it around the house." Harry knocks his hip with Y/N's. "Especially this new song that's nominated, she always had it playing. Soon my son was singing it as well. It meant I had to join in. I don't like being the odd one out."
"Thank you, Harry; I'm glad you could all enjoy my music. We've been doing the same. Fine Line is a gorgeous album. Best of luck tonight." Julia tells him sincerely.
"You as well."
"One last thing between us."
"Of course," he nods.
"She's a special one; take real good care of her." Y/N has never been more thankful for a mask because it hides her face that she is slowly starting to heat up.
"I like to think I've been doing a good job, or she wouldn't have stuck around for two years so far."
Julia doesn't hide her shock, her eyes go wide, and Harry just smirks.
Y/N laughs. "We have been good at laying low. Except for this one, he likes to always be doing something new."
"What can I say? I like to keep busy." Harry shrugs, knowing everyone knows about his next film in London.
"Now we definitely have to grab dinner soon or a zoom date, I don't know. I want to hear all about it." Y/N can tell Julia is curious but overall happy for her.
With that, they bid each other goodbye, and Harry escorts her to their seats.
"Someone is very open," Y/N tells him, adjusting her dress as she sits down.
"She's a good friend of yours but also Niall's. I know we can trust her." Harry tells her honestly.
"I see. We'll see how interviews go soon." Y/N knows Jeff had told them he had to do at least one interview if he didn't win, and if he did, it would just be him addressing the virtual press room.
Harry is sitting in the middle, Jeff to his left andY/N to his right. He's never felt as safe when they name the nominees for the category.
Y/N feels the tight grip Harry has on her thigh, and his left hand is rubbing up and down his pants to dry the sweat she can only imagine is building up. She looks up at his face, but he's calm, but she knows him; there's a storm of thoughts running through his head. Y/N knows there isn't much to help ease, but she can remind him she's there for him. She lifts his hand that was resting on her thigh to her lips and gives it a gentle kiss through her mask, yes he can't feel it, but the sentiment is there. She sets his hand back, fingers now intertwined with hers. Y/N knows he's looking at her and meets his gaze reassuring him with his eyes she loves him.
Rachelle Erratchu is opening the envelope, and in the next few seconds, she will announce the winner for the best pop solo performance.
"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"
Harry sits there shocked, his shoulders dropped, eyes wide, not at all able to hide the shock. He just heard his name called; he just won a Grammy.
In the next second, he's standing up, removing his mask, his nervous smile now able to be seen by the camera. Jeff is quick to pull him in a tight hug. Y/N stands feeling the happiness travel through her entire body.
Harry won.
A mask is no longer hiding his smile, and she knows if she removed her, she'd have a matching smile. Harry hugs her tight, her arms going around his waist; she can feel how fast his heart is beating. Harry is not at all ready to let her go but knows he has an acceptance speech to give.
"You did it, H," she whispers, ushering him to head up the stage.
Harry gets up, letting out a deep breath as he hears the applause continue. He picks up the Grammy for a second before setting it back down. He looks out at the audience, and he's just astounded that he's won.
"Wow, um..." Harry takes a deep breath before starting. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my album came out, during a day off in Nashville. I just wanna say thanks to Tom, Tyler, and Mitch, and everyone, Rob Stringer, everyone at Columbia, my manager Jeffrey who always nudged me to be better and never pushed me and thank you so much, and I feel very grateful to be here." He smiles at Y/N. "Thank you to my son, who has been the light in my life and my biggest fan. Everything I do is for him, and I hope I continue to make him proud. I love you, darling boy." Harry knows he's got only so much time left, but there is one last person to thank. He doesn't address her by name, but everyone in that room knows what he says next is for Y/N as he never takes his eyes off of her.
"Thank you for believing in me. I was not the easiest to deal with when we first met, but you're here and have been every step of the way. Thank you for helping me become a better man each day. I adore you." He chuckles, continuing on, "All these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much; I feel very honoured to be among you, so thank you so much."
Harry walks off stage, leaving the grammy he had just won behind, eager to have Y/N back in his arms. His eyes are set on her; she's standing arms open, ready for him. He melts into her touch, hiding his head in her neck placing a gentle kiss on her exposed neck. "I love you," he whispers.
Y/N softly cradles his cheek as he leans into her touch, her eyes filling with tears of joy. "I love you, H."
Harry pulls away, letting her take a step back as Jeff hugs him tighter than before. He's so happy he places an affectionate kiss on Jeff's masked cheek.
Harry's happy; he knows he didn't need an award to let him know how talented he was, but it was an honor to have his support team by his side as he did receive the award.
Harry had taken Y/N with him to help change, claiming he needed help. Jeff knew better but let them be.
As soon as Harry ushered them into the changing room, he pushed her up against the locked door, ripped his mask off, shoving it in his pocket, kissing down her neck.
Y/n reaches a shaky hand up to remove her mask, letting it fall in Harry's waiting hand to place next to him.
"Kiss me," she breathes.
Harry, never one to deny her, brings his lips to hers. Y/N felt her whole body tingle as he claimed control over her mouth, hungry and intense as if she'd disappear if he would slow down.
Y/N laughs as her hands rest on his shoulder, letting him kiss all the skin she has exposed.
"Baby, you're a Grammy winner." A hand now in his hair as she feels his lips right above the curve of her breasts.
"Just like you."
"Atticus must be so proud," Y/N says, now lost in thought.
Harry pulls back, "As much as I love our baby, please don't mention him as I'm trying to shag you in my dressing room."
Y/N grins nodding, she pushes the plaid jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. "Sorry, did you say shag? Is that Grammy fame getting to your head?" She teases
"The only place my head is going is between your thighs." His voice rough, no longer teasing. She can see the lust building in his emerald eyes.
"Guess I'm the real winner," Y/N tells him, pushing up her dress to reveal her black lace panties, Harry's favorites.
"Fuck." Harry trails his hands down her thighs as he sinks to his knees.
Y/N holds her dress up as Harry begins to pull down her panties, letting them fall to her ankles. "Those are too hot to be hidden, baby. Fuck, knowing you had those on the whole time for me has me so hard." He unbuttons his trousers giving himself breathing space.
"Please, baby," Y/N begs, wanting him to give her some kind of release.
"Alright, darling, since we don't have much time."
Y/N has her legs spread open for Harry; her face was flushed, knowing the pleasure Harry would soon bring her. She was wet; she had been since she saw Harry perform in his whole leather outfit; she swears this look will enter her dreams when he's away.
"Love, you're so wet." He smirks, knowing this was for him, but a bit of confirmation never hurt anyone. "All-cause of me?"
"Yes, always wet for you." She breathes out, looking down at him.
Harry leans in, pressing soft kisses on her thigh, getting her to relax, wanting her to enjoy this as much as he's going to. He loves how soft her skin is; he litters kisses as he watches her, still feeling how close he is to where they both want him to be.
Y/N feels like she can't breathe; Harry's teasing always so good but not now. Not when she wants him inside her, but she settles for him eating her out. He's proven more than a dozen times how good he is with his tongue.
"I'm ready, darling. I'm ready to taste you, fuck, you smell amazing, but oh, there's something special about how you taste. Will you let me?" Harry asks, always asking for her consent, never wanting her to feel pressured.
"Yes, please." Harry always knows what she needs; she's happy to relinquish all control to him.
Harry tightened his grips on her thighs, scooting closer. He smiles at how glistening her pussy looks for him. How wet he's made her. He didn't have time for foreplay as much as he wanted to tease her have her withering under his touch. He drove right in, his tongue in between her lips, tasting her sweet juices. It was good, sweet, and just for him.
Y/N let out a moan; Harry wanted more from her; he wanted her a moaning mess. Y/n felt his tongue against her most sensitive spot and felt her knees go weak, fuck; he knew exactly how to bring her the pleasure she seeks.
Harry's eyes were closed, focusing on the noises Y/N was making and savoring the taste.
Y/N has a hand in his hair, her right hand holding up her bunched-up dress. "My winner," she moans out.
"You're always a winner. Fuck, so good." She pants.
"You are….baby" Nothing's making sense. She's lost in her pleasure. Harry was focusing on her clit; he licked at the small peek, knowing she was close.
She pulls harder on his hair, he lets out a moan against her pussy, and it brings her twice the pleasure. "Make me cum, baby." She whines, "Show me exactly why a song about oral sex deserved to win."
Harry, edged on by her words, begins to suck on her clit, letting her feel the ecstasy it brings her. Y/N lost in her pleasure, misses Harry's cursing against her.
"Harry, I'm close." She whimpers out.
"Cum for me, darling." He doesn't slow down, lapping against her pussy, taking everything she gives him. He sucks on her clit, swirling his tongue around as he brings a finger to her hole, gently pushing in, knowing it will drive her over the edge.
"Fuck, you're always a winner. This mouth is always a winner."
Y/N whines out his name, pulling him closer as he licks up all she offered him, letting her ride out her orgasm enjoying every moment. Harry pulls his hand away, setting it on her exposed thigh, drawing small comforting circles, until he's sure she's ridden it through.
She lets out a long sigh as she slides down the door, no longer able to stay standing. Harry grins, guiding her down gently as he sits back on his heels.
"Can I return the favor?" She blinks at him, lust still swimming in her eyes.
Harry blushes but not at all embarrassed. "Watching you cum for me did the job, baby."
She pouts her lips.
"Can treat me to a good time later," he promises; she eagerly nods, already knowing how she'd make him go crazy at him. The taste of him on her tongue later, something to look forward to.
"Think this was the reason you had a third outfit picked." She jokes,
Harry laughs, "Definitely."
Y/N and Harry sit there staring at each other, blissed out in pleasure, taking in the other's smile when a loud knock on the door startles them reminding them where they are.
"When you walk out of here, there better not be a single trace to what you did in there," Jeff tells them.
Harry smirks, "oh Jeffery, who does he take us for?"
Y/N is helped to her feet by Harry, who slips her panties back up her thighs. Y/N walks to the restroom to fix herself while Harry washes his face at the sink provided. Harry is quick to get out of his clothes and into the final outfit of the night. An orange blazer with a white low-cut shirt and plaid pants.
He's ready to step back out and mingle, showing off his girlfriend to everyone who approaches them. Harry stands in front of the mirror looking at the deep red mark on his neck where she left a love bite; he doesn't even remember her giving it to him.
She smirks, seeing him trace his finger over it. Y/N walks up to him, placing the black-feathered boa over his shoulders.
"I could get behind the feathered boas if it means I can leave more kisses like that behind," Y/N tells him as he swings it over his shoulder, adjusting it to hide the mark that would bruise over the next few hours.
"We'll see, love."
Y/N stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She smooths her hands over her dress, happy with how she looks. Not at all like she was just given the orgasm of her life. Harry smiles, grateful she was here with him on an important day. He loves her, and he knows she loves him.
"Ready, love?" He stands being her, hand on her waist
She turns her head up to look at him, puckering her lips, waiting for a kiss that Harry happily gives her. "Now, I'm ready."
Y/N and Harry walk hand in hand, masks on.
Harry may not have won any more awards, but he truly felt like he had won it all way before ever hearing his name being called. With a woman like Y/N on his side who was intelligent, beautiful, and independent, constantly pushing him to be a better person every day, there was no way he would ever know what it would be like to lose.
Thank you so much for reading! I adore you. Hopefully, the future allows me to write for Harry, Atticus, and Y/N some more but for now I hope you enjoyed this continued story. <333
#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fan fic#harry#styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut#dad!harry#harry grammy#adore you#three time#my writing!
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Just Friends - Cillian Murphy Imagine
Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: SMUT
Words: 5034
Foreword:
I have never written anything for an actual person. For my own comfort, I will not be referring to Cillian’s actual family and, instead, I have created two small biographies for the Reader and Cillian.
Biography:
The Reader:
The Reader is 24 years old and recently moved to Dublin with her 5 year old son, Max in order to take up a fantastic job offer.
Max’s father isn’t interested in a relationship with his son and separated from the Reader pretty much as soon as she found out that she was pregnant.
The Reader is a novelist and editor for the Irish Times.
The Reader’s interests include books, listening to records, theatre and attending live music gigs.
The Reader has a close relationship with her grandmother who is 65 years old and a writer herself. She also lives in Dublin with her second husband, who is originally from Galway.
Cillian:
Cillian is 42 years old in this story. He is divorced from his wife Siobhan and has two kids, Charlie (6) and Hendricks (8).
He lives in a town house in Dublin and shares custody.
In this story, he finished filming Season 4 of Peaky Blinders about three months ago, which is when the Reader first met him.
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JUST FRIENDS
Three and a half months ago you moved to Dublin to take a position as editor at the Irish Times. Initially, the move was daunting to you as you were a single mother and moving your son to a different preschool concerned you.
Fortunately, your grandmother was living in Dublin as well and offered to help you with looking after your son, Max. She was a retired novelist herself and you always had a close relationship with her. Having her around was a blessing.
Over the years, you also met some Irish writers and established good relationships with them. Therefore, finding friends in Dublin was not an issue.
One of your best friends was a play writer from London and was working in Ireland at the time, promoting her theatre play called ‘Blessings’. She introduced you to a bunch of people, most of which were working in the entertainment industry in some way or another.
Whilst all of your new found friends were a fair bit older than you, you related to them. You had interests in common and most of them had children, just like you. They understood that sometimes plans had to be cancelled and flexibility was limited. Having children is a commitment which many of your younger friends didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in late nights because a young child meant early mornings. For this reason, you would much rather attend a dinner and board game night as a opposed to a night club.
And this is how you met a very interesting man named Cillian. Three months ago, your friend Orla invited you to a board game night with a couple of her friends. Cillian was pretty much the only other single person in attendance and, since this was a board game that had to be played in teams of two, you and Cillian were paired up with him.
He was funny and smart and very attractive. You had a good time that night and even won the game with your combined knowledge of random trivial facts.
He was a fun person to be around and you had several common interests.
Over the next few months, you spent a fair bit of time together, mostly with other friends but sometimes alone when your friends were doing things as couples with their partners.
Just recently, you went record shopping together and the weekend before last you and another friend of yours would take all of your kids to Dublin Zoo for the day. Your son Max developed a great friendship with Cillian’s youngest son Charlie. Playdates were a common occurrence.
While both of you separately explored the dating world, you really enjoyed Cillian’s company as a friend and he enjoyed yours and you would often chat about the mishaps you encountered and laugh about them. Dates gone wrong was one of your favourite topics.
The last relationship Cillian had was with a co-worker, which was far from ideal. They’ve met on set of one of his movies about a year after he divorced from his wife, but things didn’t go as planned and the relationship didn’t last. It ended about four months ago, being just one month before you met.
The last relationship you had was over a year ago and it also didn’t last as your boyfriend couldn’t deal with the fact that you were a single mum and that your son always came first.
For Valentines Day this year, your friends set up dates for each of you. It was disastrous. Neither of you were interested in committing at this point and you both were rather flustered about your friends’ efforts after you both had told them not to bother.
You were happy singles.
Theatre Night
As happy singles, you decided to go and see your friend’s new play ‘Blessings’ with some of your other friends on the night you all managed to be child free for once. It took a while to organise but was worth the effort.
‘Hi Max, how was preschool?’ Cillian asked as he opened the door to your townhouse for Cillian while you were in the bathroom, putting up your hair.
Max met Cillian numerous times and got along with him very well. After all, Cillian had a son the same age as Max.
‘Good. Do you want me to show you what I made?’ Max asked while you waived at Cillian from the bathroom.
‘Absolutely, show me’ Cillian said with a smile as he followed Max into the living room.
‘Look’ Max said as he held up two paintings.
‘Wow, is that a T-Rex?’ Cillian asked, causing Max to nod with excitement.
‘That’s very cool…he looks super scary’ Cillian added just as there was another knock on the door.
It was your grandmother who was here to pick up Max for his sleepover at her house.
You opened the door and asked Max to get his bag from the living room which you had packed for him earlier.
‘Nan, this is my friend Cillian’ you said as you introduced Cillian to your grandmother.
‘Hello Cillian, I am Margot. I loved Grief is a Thing with Feathers. It was such an intense play’ she said, knowing right away who he was despite the fact that you had never mentioned him to her before.
‘Thank you Margot and I loved By The Sea, it was a fantastic book’ Cillian responded. He read the book after you told him about your grandmother. Your writing style was very similar to hers and he always loved a good book.
‘Oh thank you very much. Now Max, are you ready?’ your grandmother asked.
Max was ready and you said goodbye, giving him a big hug and thanking your grandmother for looking after him for the night.
While Cillian waited in the living room, you finished your make up and slipped on your shoes.
‘Thank you for picking me up. I really have no idea where this place is’ you said as you grabbed your bag and the two of you were heading out of the door.
‘Any time Y/N, it isn’t far from here actually’ Cillian said.
As you were walking to the Arthouse Theatre you talked about all sorts of things, music, childcare and books.
It was a cold night in Dublin and you were probably underdressed for the occasion.
At the Arthouse Theatre you met up with another two friends of yours. They were both married, to each other, and shared three children. Luckily for them, they had a baby sitter that night.
The play was amazing and you all enjoyed it with a few glasses of wine which were served at the theatre. Cillian had good taste when it came to wine and you usually sought his guidance on what to order.
After you left the theatre, you felt awfully hungry. You hadn’t eaten dinner that night.
‘I am starving, is anyone else up for Pizza?’ you asked your three friends, including Cillian
‘We would love to, but only have a baby sitter until 9pm, sorry’ Amanda said, explaining that she and her husband had to head home fairly soon.
‘What about you Cilly?’ you asked.
‘I would love some Pizza, let’s go to Pizzinis’ he said.
Both you and Cillian said goodbye to your friends and made your way to Pizzinis.
As usual, it was packed and there were no table available.
‘Wanna grab them take away and go back to my place? I’ve got wine and you can show me this new album you were talking about earlier’ you said.
‘Sounds good, let’s do that’ Cillian said before ordering two pizzas.
More than Friends
You arrived at your apartment about 30 minutes later and Cillian put on some music. He found this new Irish band he liked and you were really keen to hear them.
‘Hmm Indie…I like it’ you said as he connected his i-phone to your speakers.
‘Wine?’ you asked as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf.
‘Yes please and thanks’ Cillian said as he put the pizzas on the table.
‘I was meant to ask you, how was your Valentine’s date?’ Cillian asked before taking the first bite of the pizza.
‘Oh god, don’t remind me on it please’ you said with a laugh.
‘That good ey? What happened?’ Cillian laughed.
‘He was weird. He basically left after I told him about Max’ you responded.
‘I think that sometimes guys your age might be a bit freaked out by the fact that you have child. I can’t say that I blame them. I couldn’t imagine myself becoming a step father when I was in my 20s’ Cillian said.
‘He was 32’ you responded.
‘Well maybe he was just weird and you are just unlucky when it comes to dating’ Cillian laughed.
‘Yeah, maybe…I am just over dating’ you said…’What about your date?’ you asked.
‘Pretty average. I mean she was nice but had no sense of humour’ Cillian said.
‘Oh what, wait…she didn’t laugh at your Irish jokes?’ you laughed.
‘Outrageous I know. I mean how could she not?’ Cillian joked.
‘Here is to failed dates’ you said as you held up your wine glass for a toast.
‘To failed dates’ Cillian responded with smile.
Over the next hour or so, Cillian and you finished both pizzas and talked about books, including the book you were currently writing, music and embarrassing things your kids had done.
Quite music was playing in the background by then while you talked and laughed together until Cillian brought up a specific book he had read recently, written by a writer named J A Hanson, which he said reminded him on you in a way.
‘I have read all of her books and I really wish I could write romance as well as her’ you said.
‘Her books aren’t exactly romantic’ Cillian responded.
‘Her storylines aren’t romantic, but the character she uses in all of her books involves herself romantically with several other characters throughout the series. The way she writes makes you relate to the character even in these intimate moments’ you explained.
‘She is 60 and probably speaking from experience. I have read in a paper a few months back that she had quite an interesting and adventurous youth in the 70s and 80s’ Cillian said.
‘Free Love…Yeah, I have read this too’ you laughed. ‘Perhaps I just need some inspiration to get over my block, otherwise I will never finish this damn novel’ you said as you poured yourself some more wine.
‘You don’t have to answer this, but when was the last time that…?’ Cillian asked and, before he could finish his question, you interrupted him.
‘That I had sex? Gosh…well over a year ago’ you responded, causing Cillian’s chin to drop.
‘Over a year? Seriously? I mean, surely, a woman like you would get plenty of offers…’ Cillian said, not knowing what else to tell you.
‘A woman like me? What do you mean by that Cilly?’ you asked with a slight giggle.
‘Well, you are attractive, smart and funny. You would get a fair bit of interest’ Cillian responded.
‘So, you think I am attractive?’ you asked with a smirk, causing Cillian to choke slightly on his wine. He regretted what he had said almost instantly, causing awkwardness between you.
‘Well yeah, I think you are an attractive woman’ Cillian said quietly. ‘In a totally objective way of course’ he added, while, just in this moment, you observed his facial expressions.
You observed him drop his eyes to your lips as he said it, and then lower to the place where your shirt opens at the collar, the buttons undone to below your collarbone.
He pressed his lips together. ‘I think I should probably get go…’ he said, and, before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and kissed him suddenly, like the peck you give a boy you like on the school bus the second before you jump up and get off – a brief bravery without a plan.
He was caught by surprise.
‘Y/N’ he said and, before he could say something else, you apologised to him for what just happened.
‘I am sorry Cilly, I don’t know what just came over me’ you said.
‘It’s alright, I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was inappropriate’ Cillian said.
But, with Cillian’s response, you couldn’t leave it alone and asked ‘So, you don’t think that I am attractive?’ you asked, giggling slightly with some embarrassment.
‘Any man who thinks that you aren’t attractive is clearly blind. But, with that being said, it doesn’t matter what I think, you are 18 years younger than me and it would be wrong for us to take this further. Despite, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship’ Cillian said calmly.
You didn’t know what to say to his comment and, instead of using any words, you ran your hand gently over the side of his perfect face while biting your lip.
‘Just one kiss between friends then, we can blame the red wine after’ you whispered as a comfortable hot feeling washed over you. You felt some sort of attraction towards Cillian since the moment you met him, but didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone to him.
‘I don’t know Y/N’ Cillian said as you leaned closer towards him and pressed your lips onto his. You knew he was reluctant but he didn’t push you away.
To the contrary, as you kissed him, his hand came up in a rush to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Within seconds, his tongue slipped between your lips, whispering over your teeth and began dancing with your tongue.
You noticed the brush of his stubble on your cheek, the press of his lips on yours and the way his mouth tasted, a mix of minty gum and red wine.
It shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was. The taste of him, the smell and flavour, and it made you whimper in your throat. You knew this was one off and you didn’t want this moment to end.
‘Are you ok?’ he asked after he pulled back a little and paused. He was scanning your eyes and there was a cautious considering from his side. You could tell that he was surprised about what had just happened.
‘Yeah, you?’ you said as you couldn’t help yourself but stare into his baby blue eyes.
‘Yes’ he said as he cleared his throat slightly.
There was an awkward silence in the room and you couldn’t stand it.
You build up all of your courage again and leaned over him, pressing your lips onto his once more.
Cillian didn’t hesitate then.
His tongue slipped right back into the same spot than before, before his lips then moved over your face and down to your neck, leaving gentle bites and kisses.
Cillian’s hands were busy touching you at the same time his lips were trailing over your neck.
One of his hands was in your hair at the back of your head while his other hand was moving down to press the small of your back so that your body was pulled forward into his.
As you were exchanging passionate kisses, you could feel the shape of him, the firmness of his body against yours, your legs pressing into his and his chest pressing into your breasts. You could also feel his erection through his jeans, hard as anything, rigid and warm against your tummy.
By this time, you wanted more than just kisses.
‘Sleep with me, just that once’ you whispered.
‘I can’t Y/N, you are 24, it is not right’ Cillian said pulling away from you.
‘It’s just sex Cilly, I am old enough for that’ you laughed.
‘Yes, but I don’t want this to ruin our friendship’ Cillian said.
‘It won’t. There are no strings attached, it’s just sex. Unless you don’t want me’ you responded. ‘Although I think you do’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his pants, feeling his erection.
Your comment made Cillian chuckle.
‘This is a one off, alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.
‘One off…and it stays our little secret’ you said before smashing your lips back onto his for another minute or two.
After you exchanged more passionate kisses you stood up.
‘Common, I show you my bedroom’ you said cheekily, taking his hand and guiding him towards the bed.
‘Can you help me with this please’ you asked, turning around to face the bed. Your back was now facing Cillian and you pulled your hair aside so that he can open the zipper of your dress.
Cillian unzipped your dress carefully, exposing your black lace underwear.
As you pushed your dress down onto the floor, Cillian began kissing your back and neck, while running his hands over your breasts and stomach, all the way down in between your legs.
You let out a brief moan before turning around to face him and help him pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped biceps.
Looking into his eyes, your hand glided gracefully, for once, past Cillian’s belt buckle and into the holy crevice of his Calvin Klein briefs. His cock was hard and ready.
You moved it between my your slowly, relishing his obvious eagerness.
You used the other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, shortly after which he pushed them down to the floor while your other hand never left his warm and hard cock.
After the jeans came off, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours while using his skilled hands to unclip the back of your bra. The bra also landed on the floor within seconds.
‘Lie down’ he whispered into your ear. You obliged and crawled onto the bed, facing him.
He loomed over you, climbing on to the bed as you scooted backwards further so that he could straddle your hips while you pushed up against him, wanting the rub and friction against you.
Cillian kissed you passionately as one of his hands moved in between your legs.
He could feel your body tensing up as he ran his fingers over the top of your panties
After all, he knew that it had been a while since you’ve been with anyone. He knew to take it slow and give you some reassurance.
‘Just relax’ he whispered into your ear with his thick Irish accent as he edged his fingers over the lace of your panties, his hand leisurely rubbing up and down the length of your squirming crotch, until he pulled your underwear aside and slipped two fingers inside of you.
You could feel your mouth widen and a loud moan escaped you as he teased the full mound of your clit. The stroke of his thumb was purposeful and steady on your firm, dripping pulse while his fingers plunged in and out of you, sinking further and further.
You held onto him tightly as the slipperiness he found made it easy for him to penetrate you with his fingers. You were so wet.
You shuddered at the pattern, shocked to find it could still stun you, unlocking newfound levels of moisture and desire, even when you began to meet the repetition of his thrusts. You naturally tilted and buckled beneath him.
As he was pushing his fingers in and out of you, he trailed kisses down your neck while your hands clutched at his shoulders, scratched down his back, held him tighter to you as I screamed into his skin.
Cillian’s breath grew more desperate and rugged.
‘It seems like we should take these off�� he said, causing you to nod with anticipation.
‘Don’t move’ Cillian ordered as he lowered himself on the bed while removing your lace undies.
Within seconds, Cillian’s lips were an inch away from your crotch, where he painted your inner thigh with tiny and soft kisses.
Cillian pushed your legs apart gently and you knew what would be next. You have read about this many times but this was the first time any man had gone down on you before and you were nervously biting your lip.
You tried hard to relax as Cillian’s lips finally reached your entrance, tasting the evidence of how much you wanted him.
‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as his head dove between your legs. His tongue prodded you softly, short licks against your clit.
Instantly, all restraint and reservations you had vanished. You were relaxed completely as his tongue danced and writhed inside of you.
With each skillful stroke, your thighs clenched. But you still needed more and he read you just right; he didn’t stop as you pushed yourself up the bed. Instead, he held you steady, causing you to look down at him and watching his eyes widen as they met yours, reacting to the rush of your wetness.
‘Cillian, oh god…you need to stop, I am so close’ you moaned, not wanting it to be over. You never came more than once so you wanted to feel him inside of you first.
‘That’s good, just let go’ Cillian said quietly with a grin before he continued and slid two fingers back inside of you while whirling his tongue over your clit.
You couldn’t hold on any longer, no matter how hard you tried. Your exhales began to emerge as deepening sighs and you leaned my head back and lived out the fantasy that had flashed through your mind all along.
‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as your back arched and a rush of ecstasy flew through your body. You grabbed onto Cillian’s hair as he sucked every drip from you as your orgasm flooded your body.
As you came down from your orgasm, Cillian shuffled himself back up the bed, kissing you passionately.
You could taste yourself on his lips and you were ready for more.
‘I want to feel you’ you whispered after your lips drifted apart and while reaching for Cillian’s hard cock.
‘Do you have a condom?’ he asked, causing you to nod. You had purchased some before your Valentine’s Date, just in case you needed them.
You reached for the bedside table and opened the pack of condoms, handing one to Cillian.
Cillian was quick to get rid of his briefs and put on the condom, before positioning himself on top of you, in between your legs.
He shuddered a great rushing gasp of breath as he entered you. He couldn’t believe how good you felt, so tight.
You felt him push into you then, slowly and carefully, filling you completely.
‘Cillian’ you moaned as you held onto him tightly as he slowly began to move.
With every thrust, you gasped, whimpered, soft mewling noises, begging for more.
You felt him all the way to your belly button and screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep.
As he picked up his pace, you got louder, groans becoming moans becoming shouts, and the bed frame thumped against the wall, louder and faster and louder and faster.
‘Oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned, his skin slapping against yours.
‘You are so beautiful’ Cillian said in between his moans before pulling out of you slowly and lifting up your legs above his shoulders.
He knew exactly that, this way, he would be reaching your g-spot while he was fucking you.
You were slightly surprised by this position but were flexible enough to run with it.
As he entered you again slowly, you let out a loud moan.
‘Fuck’ you moaned in between the high-pitched noises that escaped you.
‘Does this feel alright?’ Cillian asked, wanting to ensure that you are comfortable.
You nodded eagerly and whimpered a shaky ‘yes’ as he continued to thrust into you. He was right at your g-spot and you could barely control yourself.
He slowly picked up the speed and you could feel another orgasm coming on as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again.
‘Cillian, oh my god, don’t stop…’ you moaned as you held onto his arms tightly.
You began to shake heavily as your orgasm washed over you and tears of joy escaped your eyes.
‘Fuck, Y/N’ Cillian groaned loudly as he felt your walls tightening around him. The sensation coupled with the sounds you were making sent him over the edge and he almost came in sync with you.
As soon as he came, you released your legs from his shoulders and he collapsed on top of you, kissing you passionately.
You could still feel Cillian pulsing inside you when the sudden oddness of what you had done washed over you.
‘Are we ok?’ Cillian asked as he slowly pulled out of you and removed the condom, disposing of it discreetly.
‘I think so’ you said shyly.
‘Good…because I really enjoyed this’ Cillian said as he ran one of his hands over your cheek gently.
‘Me too…plus, I’ve got some inspiration for my book now’ you said cheekily.
‘I am glad to having been of assistance. Make sure you credit me in the end notes’ Cillian said jokingly.
‘Hmm, if I did, it may become a best seller…Sex Scene Inspired by Cillian Murphy’ you said with laughter, causing Cillian to laugh also.
‘I should better get home’ Cillian said as he was playing with your hair. He really didn’t want to leave, but he felt as though it was inappropriate for him to stay the night.
‘You can stay here if you like…’ you offered, but Cillian declined.
After all, this was supposed to be a one off. You are nothing more than friends, or are you?
You accepted Cillian’s decision to leave and weren’t upset by it. You enjoyed your time with Cillian and slept well that night, snugging up in the doona which smelled like his aftershave.
Finishing the Book
The next morning, you got up early to begin writing the intimate chapter of your book. This was the chapter you had struggled with for a while and you finally felt comfortable writing it. If readers would know that, in this particular scene of your book, you were basically reliving your night with your friend, Cillian Murphy, that would be scandalous.
So, you decided to make sure that no one would ever find out about your little adventure.
Unfortunately for you, your grandma seemed to have a good sense of what was going on.
She was on time as usual and dropped Max back at your house at 10am.
‘Had a good night my dear? I can see you are working on your book.’ She said.
‘Yes nan, the play last night was lovely. It has given me some inspiration’ you said.
‘The play has given you some inspiration to write about orgasms?’ your grandmother asked with laughter as she read the screen on your lap top.
‘Nan! Oh my god, don’t read what I am writing’ you said with embarrassment.
‘Oh dear, it’s alright. Believe it or not, I used to write novels myself with a little hint of filth now and then. But, somehow, I don’t think that it was the play that gave you the inspiration to write this little naughty chapter. By looking at the bruises on your neck, perhaps it was your friend Mr Murphy who gave you this inspiration?’ your grandmother said with sarcasm.
‘Nan, no Jesus, please’ you said as your face became flushed.
‘Don’t be embarrassed dear’ your grandmother said. ‘It is good for you. I mean, he is handsome and I saw the way you looked at him yesterday evening…and the way he looked at you’ your grandmother continued.
‘There is nothing between us nan, we are just friends’ you explained with total embarrassment.
‘Alright dear, whatever you say’ your grandmother said, not believing a single word that came out of your mouth.
‘I better go, I have lunch with Alma later… I love you my dear’ your grandmother said before heading out of the door.
‘Love you too nan’ you said.
WHO WANTS A SECOND PART OF THIS?
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#Cillian Murphy x Reader#Tommy Shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy imagine#smut#fanfic
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Off The Train
Thanks to @mertronus for tagging me in the HPRomione Discord Popcorn game thingy! The prompt she gave me was: "I can finally see you."
I'm tagging @acnelli with the prompt: "You can't just keep pretending things are fine!"
***
”I can’t wait until you get off that train,” says Ron, his voice low and lazy with fatigue, “and I can finally see you.”
Hermione shifts in her bed so she’s lying on her side, mirror held out before her. This way, she can pretend - if she squints a bit, and ignores the crimson hangings of her four-poster bed - that he’s lying next to her, and not hundreds of miles away in London.
“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Hermione, too, keeps her voice quiet. It won’t do, in her final days as Head Girl, to be waking her dormmates. “You’re looking at me right now.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can see you, but I can’t touch you, or...” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Or do anything else for that matter.”
“Right. Well,” she says, trying to infuse positivity into her voice, despite the weeks since the Easter holidays dragging into what felt like months and years, despite missing him so much that it’s like a heavy fog surrounding her. “It’s only a couple more days, right?”
“Can’t it be now?” Ron looks like he’s reclined in bed too now, his fiery hair stark against the deep navy of his sheets. “Just get to Hogsmeade, then you can Apparate-“
“You know full well that I cannot,” she replies briskly, even though it’s tempting, really tempting. “It’s-“
“-behavior unbecoming of a Head Girl,” Ron finishes her sentence. “I know. I just miss you, that’s all.”
“I miss you too.”
“I love you,” he adds after a moment’s silence, before his eyes widen with inspiration. “Oh, I’ve got it. What if I Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to the castle - I bet Hagrid would let me through the gates-“
“It’s only two days, Ron.”
He sighs. “Fine.”
“And I love you too.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
•••
Pigwidgeon is the last owl to fly into the Great Hall, his little wings beating wildly to keep him aloft. With a scrap of parchment clutched in his tiny talons, he struggles over to the Gryffindor table before somersaulting down into Hermione’s lap.
Hermione’s heart sinks, and not just at the sight of the exhausted little bird currently burrowing into the crook of her elbow. Their two-way mirrors mean they don’t usually have to resort to writing letters. Not unless...
Hermione, the parchment reads when she unfolds it. Got called on an emergency mission. I’m not allowed to tell you where or why or even how long but I’m hoping it won’t take too long. I’m still going to be there at King’s Cross, because I’m dying to see you and I can’t wait until all this is over and we can just be together. Anyway, I love you and try not to worry too much. I promise to do my best not to die.
Ron
“Oh, good,” comes Ginny’s voice from beside her, and Hermione turns to see her peering intently at the parchment. “He’s promised not to die, that’s a relief-“
“He’ll be there,” interrupts Hermione, tucking the note in the pocket of her robes before Ginny can further infringe upon her privacy. “If he thinks it’ll only take a day, then I believe him.”
Ginny blinks. “I never said he wouldn’t be.” Plucking Pigwidgeon from Hermione’s lap, she offers him water from her goblet. “I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”
“It’s probably just a quick day trip,” Hermione rationalizes, eyes focused hard on Pigwidgeon as he drinks so she doesn’t have to see the sympathy she knows is etched on Ginny’s face, “and he just wanted me to know in case - well-”
“In case he dies?”
Ginny’s attempt at a joke falls flat.
“Well, just in case, you know, something were to - to happen,” Hermione stammers, “and anyway, it’s just good for me to know - I like to know what he’s up to - not in a controlling way or anything, just-”
“Of course,” Ginny interjects bracingly. “I’m sure he just wanted you to know, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be there.”
Hermione picks up her mug of tea and holds it close to her face so the steam washes over her. She knows what they’re both thinking but are unwilling to say: that in the year Ron and Harry have been Aurors, neither has had a mission run shorter than a week.
•••
And so Hermione sits with Ginny and Luna on the train, watching the Scottish Highlands slowly transform into the low, tidy hills of the English countryside outside her window and hoping against hope that Ron will be there on Platform 9 and ¾. But she hasn’t heard from him since that first letter, and his mirror has gone dark. This doesn’t worry her - not for his safety, anyway - but it does make it difficult to share in Ginny’s gleeful anticipation as the train pulls into King’s Cross.
She busies herself with tending to Crookshanks, who is furious about his prolonged confinement in his basket, as Harry and Ginny embrace on the platform. It’s not that she’s upset, not really. Ron is doing what he needs to do, and she would never want him shirking his responsibilities just so he can kiss her on a train platform for the first time since April. She just wishes things could be different.
After Harry and Ginny depart for Grimmauld Place, she flags down a taxi and rides alone to her parents’ home. The family car is parked in front, which is unusual for a weekday, but when she goes inside, she finds her parents have been eagerly awaiting her arrival and can hardly let her set down her trunk before whisking her away to an upscale restaurant in South Kensington.
“So, tell us about school,” says Mum with an eager smile once they’re seated at their candlelit table. “How were your exams? I want to hear everything.”
“I will later,” Hermione replies, raising her brows and tipping her head pointedly in the direction of the waiter currently pouring red wine into their glasses.
“Oh, right, right, of course. Well, anyway, dear,” she begins as the waiter sets down menus and strides away, “your father and I have a little surprise for you.”
It’s foolish, she knows, but her mind leaps instantly to Ron. Maybe all of this business with his mission has been a ruse, and he’s here in London after all, and she’ll be able to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Grimmauld Place…
Until she notices that her parents are still talking, and there’s no tall, lanky, red-haired wizard to be seen in this high-end French restaurant, but there are three Eurostar boarding passes laid out across the tablecloth.
“Sorry,” says Hermione, shaking her head to clear away the daydream, “what’s going on?”
“We’re going to Paris!” announces Mum with delight. “We thought it would be so lovely to spend time together since you’ve been away for so long, and you’re about to start your new job - and I know you’ve always wanted to go there. We’ve got ten whole days, and everything’s booked, so all you’ve got to do is pack.”
“That - that’s - that’s brilliant,” Hermione musters, forcing her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her parents beam so brightly back that it’s almost difficult to look at them. “Erm, so when are we leaving?”
She crosses her fingers under the table, praying they’ll say August, or her birthday in September, or Christmas, anything but-
“This weekend!”
Of course.
•••
Paris is beautiful. It exceeds every single one of Hermione’s expectations. She and her parents consume copious amounts of bread, cheese and wine, they visit museums and cafes and old bookstores, they ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower and take in the view. She thinks of Ron constantly as she walks the cobbled streets, as she crosses the Pont des Artes and sees the countless locks affixed to its railing. Before she left, she sent Harry an owl to tell him that she was leaving, so Ron would know where she was if he returned home before she did. As they can’t communicate when she’s staying in a Muggle hotel, she truly has no idea where he is, but she tells herself that he’s still on his mission. It feels better that way, imagining that even if she stayed in London, there would still be obstacles keeping them apart.
On their last day, she nearly empties out a patisserie buying eclairs and macarons for Ron, and then they board the Eurostar back to England. Nervous anticipation grips her stomach as the train barrels through the tunnel (idly, she wonders if Ron’s dad is aware of this train that travels underwater, and makes a mental note to tell him), because she has no idea what awaits her back in London. What if Ron’s still away? Or worse - what if something’s happened to him, and she’s been off enjoying a holiday while he’s been suffering?
The train can’t move quickly enough. Hermione can focus on nothing - not the paperback romance novel her mother has loaned her to read, not the Muggle newspaper that her father is engrossed in, not even the argument of the couple seated across the aisle from them. It’s only a two-hour trip, so why does it feel like it’s taking days?
She checks her mirror, but it’s still dark.
“You go ahead, sweetheart,” says Dad when the train finally rolls to a stop in St. Pancras station. “We’ll get the cases.”
Hermione looks up at the luggage rack over their heads, then at her parents. “Are you sure? I’ll bring mine-”
“We can manage. Go on ahead, get some fresh air.”
She doesn’t bother reminding them that train station air is hardly fresh, and instead heads down the aisle with just her purse and the box of pastries in tow. Truly, she’s not sure why her parents have sent her off the train without them; with the station as busy as it is, they’ll surely lose track of each other.
But then she sees him. Standing a head above the crowd, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes scan the throngs of travelers. At first, she doesn’t believe her eyes. Surely, she’s just become so desperate to see him that she’s actually begun hallucinating.
But as she draws closer, he doesn’t ripple into nothingness, he doesn’t fade away. He’s really, truly there, his red hair curling behind his ears, one knee jiggling with pent-up energy the way it always does when he’s particularly impatient. As he turns his head, still surveying the crowd, their eyes lock and the rest of the station recedes into the background. Finally, they’re within sight of each other after months of hushed mirror conversations and stolen moments borrowing Professor McGonagall’s Floo. Hermione picks up speed, nearly skipping across the concrete in her haste, and flings herself into his waiting arms.
She fits against him perfectly. The fabric of his faded t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she breathes him in, and for the first time in recent memory, words fail her completely.
The box of pastries thuds to the ground.
“Hi,” he mutters, lips brushing her skin and sending chills up her spine.
“How - how did you-”
“Harry told me where you’d gone.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then, at long last, their lips connect. “It’s not that hard to look up train schedules.”
As reluctant as she is to pull away from him, she leans back just enough to look up at him. Behind the freckles scattered across his face, his cheeks have gone pink. “You’re amazing,” she tells him, rising on tiptoe for another kiss, unconcerned with the passersby and the blast of nearby train whistles.
Ron lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug when they break apart. “Had to meet you on a train platform somehow.”
#hpromione discord#romione#ron weasley#hermione granger#romione fanfic#ahhh I missed writing about these two dorks#also message me if you want to join the discord!
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First date (Marcus Moreno x Reader)
Not my GIF
A/N: This was suggested/requested by the wonderful @lunaserenade I hope this is what you had in mind, I think I went off track a little as it’s a bit long. But I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay Safe.
Genre: fluff
Warnings: fem!reader, Marcus talks to himself, mentions of eating (idk if that counts as a warning), be nice to Marcus, he tries his best, awkwardness, fluff, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning
Summary: Marcus finally has the chance for a real date. Surely there’s nothing that could go wrong...right?
Marcus let out a deep breath as he gripped the steering wheel of his car trying to calm himself down. “You got this Marcus. You got this” he whispered to himself “you’ve done it before. And it’s (Y/N). You got this. You’re just going to go in there and be yourself. Just relax”
He loosened his shoulders by shaking himself while taking in deep breaths and letting them out again. “You can do this Marcus”
“Uh...Dad?” Missy said from beside him with a confused but also amused look. He had completely forgot his daughter was sat in the passenger seat.
“God, I’m sorry kiddo” he said, his head falling onto the steering wheel. “I’m freaking out”
“Why? That was such a good pep talk” she teased.
“Ha ha, very funny” Marcus said turning his head to look at Missy. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”
“Why do you keep asking me that? I want you to be happy Dad. And (Y/N) does make you happy” Missy smiled as she patted her dads shoulder. “But you do have to sort yourself out. You can go back in this state”
Marcus sat up and ran his hands over his face “well, when you haven’t been on a date in god knows how many years, it’s not exactly easy to be calm. Especially when it’s with a girl you really like” he paused for a moment and gave a sharp look to his daughter “not that you would know anything about dating right?”
“N-No! Of course not Dad. You think I’m interested in people like that?” She laugh, a little nervously as he looked away from him making Marcus a little suspicious. “But what you were saying was right. Just be yourself. That’s what (Y/N) likes. She likes you”
Marcus gave Missy a gentle look before kissing her cheek “I love you Missy” he smiled.
“Yeah, I love you too Dad” she said sounding a little unimpressed. She grabbed her bag and opened the car door.
“I’ll be round lunchtime tomorrow to get you. Be good okay?”
“Always Dad. Have fun tonight okay? You deserve it” she then shut the car door and skipped off happily to his mums house.
Marcus sat there for a little while longer before working up the courage to start the car and drive back to his house. He glanced at the clock every five seconds. She was coming at 7 and it was 6:32. He had time but he wish he didn’t. He wanted her to arrive sooner so he could get it over with.
Not that he wanted it to end, but he wanted it to hurry up and get going so that he didn’t feel so scared any more.
He and (Y/N) had technically been dating for about three months, but he had liked her for a little longer than that. They had always been great friends but Marcus had always felt a little something more for her.
For the first year after his wife died, he didn’t think about relationships. He wanted to be there for Missy who was surprisingly mature about the whole situation, but of course she was still absolutely devastated by her mother’s death. Missy had always noticed the way he looked at (Y/N), and the way (Y/N) looked at him. It was actually her who convinced him to get back out there and to ask her out.
So they had been dating for three months, but he had never taken her on a date. They were both extremely busy and their schedules were constantly conflicting. But now they had finally settled in a day to have their first actual date. But he wouldn’t really class it as a proper date. He was just going to be attempting to cook her a fancy dinner but he didn’t hold much hope that it would be successful. When he told her that was his plan, she smiled the brightest smile she ever had and told him she was overjoyed at the idea.
Finally he got home and checked his watch. 6:47. He still had a little time. He went around the house to make it look perfect even though she knew what it looked like anyway. She had been there enough times when it was a mess so maybe she would be impressed with his effort to make it look nice.
He then came to a sudden realisation that he was yet to get changed. So he legged it upstairs init his bedroom where he pulled out his outfit. He didn’t really know what to wear. He didn’t want to dress alarmingly smartly, but he didn’t want to dress too casual. He had told her to dress casual but their casuals could be two very different things.
So he pulled out his best plaid shirt, black jeans and fancy shoes, decided it was both casual and smart, and comfortable, and him. He then spend the next ten minuets in front of his bathroom mirror trying to fix his hair so that it didn’t look like he had just woken up, but also make it so it wasn’t flattened down. Who would’ve thought that dating was so difficult to get right.
Then the door bell rang.
He looked at his watch and it was bang on 7pm. Of course she would be right on time.
He began to panic. His hands began to sweat. He grabbed his most expensive cologne, one he rarely used but really liked, and spray two pumps on himself before running down stairs. He was second guessing his outfit choice. He was second guessing everything.
He began thinking that he couldn’t go through with it. He was too scared. But she was stood outside his door. He couldn’t leave her out there, it was getting colder as they got into the winter months of the year.
He took some deep breaths “you got this Marcus” he told himself again. He walked to the door and pulled it open.
When his eyes fell on her, all of his worries and anxieties were washed away from him. She looked beautiful. And they were somewhat matching which was kind of awkward but nice because it meant he had made the right outfit choice. Under her long black jacket, she wore a red plaid shirt but under that a plain white shirt, black leggings and black ankle boots.
“Hi Marcus” she smiled with a small wave.
“H-Hi (Y/N)” He said, his eyes looking her up and down. “You look beautiful”
“You look very nice too” she complimented.
“Thank you” He stepped to the side to allow her inside. She walked past him and allowed him to close the door.
She placed a quick kiss on his cheek making him smile before he lead her into the kitchen where everything was perfectly set up.
He had put his best table cloth over the wooden table and set a candle in the centre along with rose petals. “Marcus” she was a little lost for words as she looked upon his efforts.
“Do you like it?” He asked quietly as he came round to stand in front of her.
“Marcus it’s beautiful” she smiled before taking his face between her hands and kissing his lips gently. He smiled into the kiss and allowed himself to relax a little. Although he was still a little sceptical about his cooking.
He pulled away from her and lead her to the table and pulled out her chair for her. She smiled graciously and sat down.
“Do you want a drink?” He asked her as he wrung his hands together. “I’ve got wine, whiskey, or something softer like lemonade if you’d prefer”
“Can I have a glass of lemonade?” She asked.
“Of course” he rushed to the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the cupboard and the bottle of drink out of the fridge. He poured her a glass and brought it over to her “there you go”
“Thank you sir” she smiled to him.
“So...I’m going to cook. So you just sit there” he told her.
“Do you want any help?” She asked.
“No. I’ll be fine” his voice wasn’t convincing as he looked between her and the kitchen that was now suddenly the scariest place on earth. He’d much rather go back out into the world and fight evil then have to attempt to cook her dinner. “I’ll be fine. You stay there”
(Y/N) watched as she began messing around in the kitchen. She would occasionally ask him if he needed any help, to which he would always reply no, but he did need help. His nerves were getting the better of him and he couldn’t focus on what he was doing.
He kept muttering to himself as he looked between the pan and his phone to make sure he was doing it right. (Y/N) was tempted to get up and take over but she didn’t want to activate him any more than he already was. But what she could tell, the dish he was making wasn’t all that complicated. It was some kind of pasta. Perhaps a sort of carbonara of some sort.
She turned away from watching him, it was getting too much. She desperately wanted to help him or at least tell him not to worry, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. So she pulled out her phone and tried to pass the time using that, but his muttering could still be heard and it made her feel awful.
Eventually though, he had finished cooking and plated it up. He didn’t look very convinced in his efforts as he set her plate down in front of her. It didn’t look all that bad actually. But it smelt a bit off. But it was a hard recipe to master, she used to make it all the time which is why she thought it was a simple dish. Clearly Marcus did not agree.
“Thank you Marcus” she smiled as she picked up her fork and twirled it within the pasta. He did the same.
At the same time they took a bite of the food and...well it was awful. But she really didn’t want to say that so she swallowed it down and tried not to react to the strange taste. Perhaps the cheese or whatever he used had gone off and that’s what was causing the taste.
Marcus wasn’t so good at hiding his reaction. But it was his cooking after all so it wasn’t like he was offending anyone, only himself.
He dropped his fork to the plate and looked at her, it was clear she wasn’t enjoying it but she was too nice to say so. “Well this is disgusting” he told her. He saw her face change as she somehow managed to swallow down another bite.
“I mean...I didn’t like to say” she said quietly as she set her fork down as took sip of her drink.
“You should’ve (Y/N)” he laughed as he took her plate and walked back into the kitchen placing the two plates beside the sink before he lent again she counter making her worry. She stood and walked over to him. His head was hung low.
Her hand rested on his back feeling his tense muscles through his shirt. “Marcus” she said quietly “what’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry (Y/N)” he apologised “I just wanted to make our first proper date perfect and I ruined it...”
She laughed softly and slipped her arms around him, hugging him from the side “you didn’t ruin it, silly. It was perfect”
“But...I messed up the food...”
“That was one small part. It doesn’t matter. The evening so far had been one of the best I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been able to spend it with you. The whole night, just me and you. That’s all I could ask for” she told him.
He lifted his head and looked at her, seeing her smiling at him. “Really?”
“Really” she said with a nod “Marcus, you are the kindest man alive. And I can see that you have put so much effort into this date and I really appreciate that. But you didn’t need to. It didn’t need to be fancy like this. Any night alone with you would be perfect”
He managed a smile as she wrapped his own arms around her. For a while they just stayed like that. He felt a lot better being in her arms. But then he spoke again, he had to address the food issue.
“Should we just order a pizza?” He asked.
She chuckled quietly and looked up at him “you read my mind” she said before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
27/12/20
Taglist: @linkpk88
#marcus moreno#marcus moreno x reader#Marcus Moreno fanfic#we can be heroes#fluff#pedro pascal#fanfic
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tea and whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 6
summary: despite his best efforts, it appears as though you're completely slipping through jack's fingers. it appears as though he has no choice but to put everything out on the table in a last ditch attempt to keep you by his side. {series masterlist}
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of death
this one's a bit of a rollercoaster, but i promise it's fun <3
- jazz xx
You'd told Jack that things between you were fine.
They didn't feel as much.
You had meant it when you'd said it - it was just that the more you thought about it and the more you pondered on your concerns, the more worried you became. Did you even know Jack Daniels at all? His mysteriousness had been attractive at first but the closer you got to him, the more you found yourself wanting to hold him at an arm's length until you had your answers. When the situation between you had been a co-workers-with-benefits affair, it hadn't mattered so much. But now, you'd agreed it was something more intense, something more meaningful. Was it unfair to think that you deserved to know a little more? To get a more substance than just it's fine, trust me?
Whilst you hadn't wanted it to get in the ways of things, you couldn't help it. It hadn't changed anything the first few days after your conversation about where you stood, or about his seeming vendetta against Ginger, but the more you thought about it, the more it got to you. It had been almost 2 weeks since then, and you'd spent most of the second one lying to him. Telling him you had to call Eggsy, or your mum, or that you had to work late to get some paperwork done for Merlin.
Tonight had been no different - it was a Friday, the last six of which you had spent at Jack's. You'd given him some ridiculous waffle about timezones and reporting to the Kingsman. He had seemed to believe it; if he didn't, he'd chosen not to comment on it.
You were sat in your shared office, heels kicked to one side and feet propped up on the table. There was a glass of wine in one hand and your phone in the other (you were exchanging memes with Eggsy), and an episode of the The Crown playing on your computer. It was a nice way of getting your mind off of the situation with Jack, and the fact that you had a mountain of Calahan-related paperwork.
"So, this is the important meeting that you ditched me for?"
You froze at the sound of Jack's voice. He was leant against the doorway, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that didn't seem too far off of pissed. Your first instinct was to lie, but the urge quickly faded. What was the point? He'd already caught you in one. Might as well just rip it off like a band-aid.
"I lied."
"That's clear as fucking day." Jack shot back. "Am I boring you all of a sudden?"
"Jack." You sighed. "I just needed some space to think."
"I thought we were good?" His brown eyes fell to the floor. "What's with all the lying? I admire your brutal honesty."
"I was only brutally honest with people I didn't mind hurting." You paused your laptop, pulling your feet down from the desk. "I care about you and I don't want to hurt you-"
"- I have pretty thick skin." He cut you off. "Be honest - you have my blessing."
"I thought I was okay with how intense things were getting," you began. "But the more, I think about it, the more I'm not sure."
Jack's face fell. "That's why you've suddenly been distant these past two weeks, huh?"
"Yeah." You nodded.
"What brought this on?"
You were silent.
"I know." Jack sighed. "It's the thing with Ginger, isn't it?"
"Not just that." You said. "You asked me to trust you and I agreed to, but I'm not sure I do."
"What have I ever done to make you not trust me?"
"Nothing, but that's my problem." You replied. "This is all on me."
"It sure as hell is." He sniffed. "If you want space, I'll give you space. Just don't count on me to be here when you get back."
--
The tension in Champ's office the following morning was almost fucking suffocating.
The poor man had no idea what had gone down between the two of you. Heck, even you were struggling to understand it. You'd got yourself into situations before with your tendency to overthink, but this one might have taken the cake. Relationships - or whatever the hell you and Jack had going on - had never been your area of expertise, and you had no idea how to navigate your situation. It had seemed like a good idea to act on your doubt and be honest with him, but now you were just worried that you'd ruined it.
"You two are making excellent progress with your mission to get Calahan." Champ said.
"Thank you, sir." Jack nodded.
"We need to discuss the matter of when you catch him."
"I appreciate your faith in us, but if we catch him, rather than when we catch him might be a little more realistic." You replied.
"I'm not certain of many things, but I am absolutely sure that you and Jack have this in the bag." Champ shot back. "And when you do, I'm afraid there is only room for one name on the arrest forms."
You sat up in your seat. "What do you mean?"
"I know that you two have made a completely join effort in this matter." He began. "But as far as Interpol, and every international agency has seen it, only one person's name can be on the paperwork."
"But we can both take credit, right?" You urged. "Surely, they can recognise us both for our work."
"I'm afraid not, Percy." Champ sighed. "The paperwork can only be processed under one name-"
"- why?" Jack cut him off. "I mean, why, sir?"
"Traditionally, only one agent would go into the field, to keep the casualties as low as possible." He explained. "Things have changed in practice but on paper, things still stand."
"So what are we meant to do?" You asked.
"You'll have to decide between yourselves who gets that recognition." He replied.
"Right." You murmured and stood up. "Thank you, sir."
Champ gave you a nod. "And you, agent. I'm sorry it has to be this way."
Me too, you thought.
You stalked out of Champ's office, Jack hot on your heels. If things had been a little tense before, they were going to be strangling now. The cowboy was already hurt by your revelation from the night before, and now, that was only going to get worst, because there was no way in hell that you were about to give the reins over to him. You'd make it clear from day one that your job came first, so that shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone.
Heels clicking loudly against the floor, you sped up slightly in an attempt to lose him. It had been foolish, though, because before you could sprint into the ladies' room, Jack grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the side.
"Lying to me and running away from me?" He asked. "You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."
You swatted his hand away and puffed out your chest. "I'm taking credit for Calahan."
Jack thinned his eyes at you. "We should talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about." You said. "I chased his ass all the across the Atlanic and I've been working on this project longer than you. Personal feelings aside, it makes sense."
"It sounds like you're saying you've done most the work."
"That is what I'm saying."
"I've done most the physical work." He shot back. "The chasing, the jumping over walls, the field work."
"None of which you could have done without me."
"Is this because of what I said last night? Are you mad?" He asked.
"No, I'm mad because you know how much this means to me!" You shoved him. "A win like this is all I've ever wanted. You know that!"
"It means a lot to me too!"
"I am putting my name on those papers." You snapped. "I've spent my whole life living in the fucking shadows at Kingsman and I'm tired of it. This is my win."
"With an attitude like that, I don't blame the damn redcoats for wanting to keep you in the shadows."
Your mouth fell open. If that had come from anyone else, you could have dealt with it. But Jack? The man who had always encouraged and loved your fire? The man you'd opened up to about how suffocated you felt at Kingsman? It was though he'd thrown your trust right back in your face.
"Wait, I didn't mean that-"
"- fuck you, Jack."
--
Drinking was, essentially, the thing that had gotten you into this whole situation in the first place. It was this very bar, in fact.
It was beyond you why you'd gone to Jack's favourite cowboy bar to simmer; probably because it was the closest thing you could get to actually being in his presence right now. Which was quite funny, because if you were in his presence, you no doubt would have decked him right there and then. His stupid fucking words were playing on a loop in your head, and it felt like a punch to your gut every time they circled back around your pre-fontal cortex.
You could have called Eggsy and vented to him, but that would involve recounting the whole story to him. He'd want to whoop Jack's ass for going near you in the first place, and eject him into outer space entirely for his petty jab. God, you missed your best friend.
Despite your anger, you hadn't even drank that much. Maybe a beer, or three - way below the amount you needed to even get tipsy. Drunken rage barely did you favours at the best of times, and right now was definitely the worst of times. It was just that sitting in a bar was a much better alternative to wallowing in your pity, alone in your larger-than-life apartment.
You sighed and took another sip of your drink, glancing over at your phone. There were three texts from Jack; a please call me, a I'll explain everything and a I fucked up, I know. You couldn't help but snort - what reason did he even have for talking to you that way?
With a twenty tossed on the bar and an empty glass, you shrugged your jacket on and began the walk back to your apartment. The air was cold and everyone was rushing around you to get back to their own respective homes. You had never wanted more in your life to go back to yours - your home in London. The one filled with pictures of you and your family, with memories of dumb sleepovers with Eggsy and late nights with your favourite films.
"So you're stalking me now?"
You could't muster up any other words when you saw Jack waiting by your door. Apparently his ignored texts and calls hadn't been a big enough sign.
"I didn't know where you were." Jack murmured.
"I was out." You shoved your way past him. "You can go now."
"We need to talk."
"Not right now." You groaned. "I'm tired, no thanks to you."
"I don't like when things are like this." He continued, following you inside as you unlocked the door. "I can't stand the idea of you being mad at me."
"So why do you do shit that makes me mad?" You shot back.
Jack sighed, leaning against your kitchen earlier. "I shouldn't have said what I did earlier. I was hurt-"
"- you were hurt?!" You snorted in disbelief.
"It fucking killed me when you said that you didn't trust me, sugar." He admitted. "I get why. I've been holding a lot of stuff back from you and I...I don't think it'll excuse my behaviour, but it might at least give you a reason."
"Okay." You murmured.
"I've barely told anyone this, but I trust you." He reached out and took your hands in his. "It's a lot."
"Jack, you don't have to-"
"- I used to be married." He cut you off. You froze at his words. "Her name was Georgia, and we'd been in love since high-school."
"I..." you trailed off. "Used to be?"
"She was killed in a shoot-out during a robbery." Jack's voice wavered slightly. "She was pregnant at the time. I lost two people that day."
"Shit." You murmured. "I'm sorry, Jack."
"It's fine." He replied. "Not your fault, sweetheart."
"Who else knows?"
"Ginger." He said. "She was a friend of mine, long before we were at Statesman. Georgia's best friend, too."
"You're trying to protect her, aren't you?" You glanced up, eyes meeting. "By keeping her out the field?"
"It's a shitty excuse." He half-heartedly shrugged. "She's all I have left of Georgia. The only person who really shares my pain."
Jack was right -- it hadn't been an excuse, but it was an explanation. You couldn't even begin to get your head around the kind of pain he must have felt then, or even the kind he felt now. You'd had weeks worth of deep conversations and late-night talks but he had never, ever even remotely mentioned Georgia, or his unborn child. You couldn't blame him for that. Not in the slightest.
You were struggling to find the words, really. A thousand new layers had just been added to a man you were already struggling to understand.
"That must be a real weight on your shoulders."
"It is." Jack nodded. "But it lifts slightly when I'm with you."
"Really?" You asked quietly.
"Completely." He countered. "That's all I've wanted my entire life -- to feel again, and I do with you."
"That's deep." You tried to crack a joke, to lighten the mood.
"Even if this ends when you go back to London, I'm still grateful." He continued. "You gave me that, so I should give you what you've always wanted."
"A real-life Batmobile?"
Jack snorted, despite the emotional atmosphere. "Your name will have to go on those papers. It should never have even been a question."
"Jack, I-"
"- that's all there is to say." He shook his head. "There'll be other arrests and missions, but I'll never find someone like you."
Without anything to say, you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. That in itself said everything you needed to- thank you, I'm sorry, maybe you don't suck that much, etc. The entire conversation marked a definitive shift in your relationship, and even though it was one that neither of you could quite work out, that didn't matter. You'd thrown yourself back into the deep end, even though you'd been so hell-bent on breaking to the surface just hours earlier.
There was no doubt that it would only complicated the whole let's not fall in love promise you'd made -- but that was something to worry about later, right?
taglist: @b0nnyzz @xremember-me-notx @somenerdyuser @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @javisjeanjacket @phoenixhalliwell @no-droids-on-sunday @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse
#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels imagine#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey imagine#jack daniels x female reader#jack daniels x you#agent whiskey x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character headcanons#agent whiskey#kingsman imagines
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Nothings changed at all
ooh my first lil one shot on here?!?! not really sure how I feel abt this one but hey ho we move.
summary: 2 years have passed with 2 people living completely separate lives. That’s until Paddy the matchmaker gets involved by not liking exams.
“Y/n?…. Y/n?” Brought out of her ferocious typing, Y/n dragged her attention away from the screen infant of her and looked around the coffee shop to identify the owner of the voice. Sure enough, standing opposite her was an adult and teen who both smiled excitedly at her.
“Nikki! Pads!” Y/n exclaimed while she jumped out of her seat to hug Nikki first, then Paddy. “Wow it’s been ages! You want to join me?”
“Yeh that’d be great!” Nikki smiled already pulling out the free chair opposite, while Paddy stole a chair from a nearby vacant table and pulled it up next to Y/n.
“God you look so grown up since I last saw you!” Nikki grinned, but her eyes held a little surprise making Y/n giggle. It had been at least 2 years since she’d seen the Hollands, and life had changed tremendously for her.
“Yeh well 24 and a qualified doctor now so it’s all happened. But speaking of… what the hell have you done with my fake baby brother Paddy?”
The three spent 40 minutes just catching up with each other, it felt like some weird family reunion. Nikki knew she would be told off by her other sons for ‘consorting with the enemy’ but Nikki really did like and miss her. It was more than clear Paddy did too. Y/n had practically been a part of the Holland family for three years while her and Tom were together, it was fair to say they had all got used to having her around. So when Nikki saw this elegant, grown young woman sat in the coffee shop she couldn’t help but say hi.
They chatted about everything… well almost everything. There was a large gaping hole in the conversation though, where casual references to Tom would usually lie - but neither felt comfortable broaching that subject with the other. Not yet anyway. Y/n could not believe that paddy was in year 11 and taking his GCSEs, in her head he was still the hyperactive young boy who loved to play spies.
“We only came out today to give this one a break from his revision did we?” Nikki spoke kindly towards her youngest, Y/n raising her eyebrow at the tone.
“Yeh I just proper hate maths and I know I’m going to fail it-“ Paddy sighed, suddenly feeling the need to twist his empty hot choclate mug round and round, clearly nervous just talking about it. He clearly wasn’t especially gifted academically and in a school system where talents for the arts and less ‘mainstream intelligence’ isn’t celebrated - he was just considered a write off.
“We’ve been looking for a tutor for him but… well you know at this point in the year so is everyone.” There was almost a look of resignation in Nikki’s face, quite clear that Paddy had already given up. Y/n knew she had to offer, her history of tutoring meant this would be just like any of her other clients and she knew the curriculum inside out and back to front.
“Well you know… only if you want… but I still do tutoring when I have the time?”Looking cautiously between the other occupants of the little table, she wore a kind smile. It would be weird - yes. Tutoring her ex’s brother. But he didn’t have to know, and the Hollands had always been a second family to her.
“Mum can she? Please I really need help and-“
“Only if you have time Y/n, sorry I dint mean to guilt you or anything?”
“No no you didn’t! But I would love to, you know Paddy’s always been my favourite Holland!” Nikki laughed at that, nodding her head as she looked deep into Y/n’s eyes.
“Well then, no harm in trying right?”
///////////////////////////////
Y/n the tutor was a massive hit. Paddy’s confidence almost instantly sky rocketed, with Y/n’s familiarity with him she knew exactly how to approach different subjects and get the best results. She would come over twice, sometimes three, times a week - but there was never any issue since Tom was away filming with Harry, meanwhile Sam and Dom were sworn to secrecy. The one hour sessions quickly evolved into staying for dinner just so Sam could practice from his cooking course. Then there was a little extra tutoring of english too, then a glass of wine or so.
Then came the actual exams. A terrifying process not only for Paddy, but everyone else associated with it also. Somehow though, they all made it through alive and without the excuse of tutoring it just became an invite to dinner once a week. Just ‘because’. Nikki and Dom would love to say they only offered because Paddy wanted her there, but truth be told they all enjoyed her company. Especially with two of their sons on the opposite side of the world, it was nice just to have that familiarity again. She would go to the pub every now and again with Dom and Sam and just generally was a part of the families day to day life.
Then came the night before Paddy’s results.
As expected Y/n had been invited round for a barbecue that evening, with the Hollands and some of Paddys friends families. The whole thing was just a distraction for Paddy who was nervous beyond belief. He really needed to pass to go on to college and chase his dreams of going to university. He couldn’t afford to cock up, even at the tender age of 16. So fair to say a jovial evening where the word ‘GCSEs’ was banned - it was exactly what the boy needed. Everyone sat in the garden chattering away happily, enjoying the glorious and rare British sunshine.
Sam popped inside to go to the loo, but on his way was dragged by unfamiliar hands round the corner into a study room. He shrieked in fright, before his eyes widened in recognition.
“Missed us?” Harry smirked as he let go of his twin however he was immediately pounced on by Sam, who had of course missed his twin brother for the half a year he’d been away. Next he turned to Tom, the both of them laughing as he hugged his older brother, Sam having to hide his surprise at his bulkiness. The new role obviously had him working out a hell of a lot.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“We got some time off and mum said Pads is terrified so we thought we’d pop in for moral support.” Harry exclaimed, clearly very proud of themselves for organising it for their littlest brother.
“ Does anyone know?”
“Um… well you…now” Tom couldn’t hide his mischievous grin, making Sam shake his head at his over excitedness “So what’s going on? Is it a party or something?”
“I’ve just done a barbecue for Paddy friends families… you remember Jack? Another guy called Zak and then two girls too-“
“Ah cool so we will just walk out and surprise him?” Harry asked and Sam was about to encouragingly agree, until something struck him.
“I…um…Tom there’s something you need to know.” His voice was deadly serious and Harry noticed the warning tone; Tom always oblivious didn’t catch on so quick, just scoffed and asked why.
“While you’ve been away…. Paddy had tutoring to help and um well… Y/n-she’s here.” Tom closed his eyes and shook his head, taking a breath and gulping it down before looking intently at Sam.
“She…she what?”
“Mum bumped into her in town and she got Y/n to help Paddy with maths. I don’t know… she’s here for Paddy and well…”
“Mum knows that we aren’t speaking right?” Sam nodded in defeat, taking a small step back from his brother “and she still…she still did this?”
“You were the other side of the country and you know how close Paddy and Y/n were. And by the way she worked it looks as if she might’ve made him pass which would be a miracle in itself! So please can you just be civil?”
“It has been like 2 years Tom” Harry, very unhelpfully, felt the need to input - earning him a glare from both of his brothers. Tom just shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, eyes glued to the floor.
“Yeh…I mean we are adults” His words were stuttered, as if his brain was desperately trying to force out words his heart completely disagreed with. Harry and Sam knew of course, they knew their brother never really had got over his first love. With a sympathetic smile Sam led the way out of the study room.
It was fair to say to Holland’s were ecstatic about the twos return, Paddy’s face had been the most priceless because although he was 16 - he still really was an overexcited little kid. The whole garden energy skipped about twelve levels when they walked in, Paddys friends and families also a little excited to see ‘spiderman’ in real life. Yet Y/n… she was less pleased. Sam had instantly come over to her asking if she was okay. Which she was. Unlike her ex, Y/n had properly got over him and had serious relationships since. She just felt awkward for him, she was in the way of a family reunion, she was the sceptre at the feast. Bless Sam for keeping her company, they sat on the outdoor furniture in the corner and just chatted, while Mr centre-of-attention relished all the love from his family. She knew she should leave, so leaned closer to Sam to barely whisper. “I’m gonna go now”
“Y/n you don’t have to, Pads still wants you here and-“
“Sam could you give us a minute?”
Interrupted by the oh so familiar voice, Y/n smiled nervously at him, before giving Sam a side eye saying it was okay for him to leave. Swapping seats Tom sat down in Sams seat, running a hand through his hair nervously.
“Look Tom I was just going to go so you guys can have a proper reunion and-“
“Please stay. Paddy wants you here and tonights about him so?”
“That’s very kind of you but...well you made it clear we couldn’t be friends. I don’t want to intrude and-“
“That was years ago and I was being naive. For paddy please?”
“Tom I….I’m-“ Stopping promptly as she was interrupted.
“staying yes I agree. Now come on he’s looking…” Tom lowered his voice as he motioned over to Paddy standing with Sam, who appeared to be watching the exchange between the two ex lovers intently “so pretend I said something funny, laugh and then we can go mingle”
“Hard to imagine… you have no sense of humour” She smiled sarcastically, before throwing her head back laughing - as if she had said something hilarious. Tom knew he had to join in, however much he tried to hide the grimace at her remark.
“ You haven’t changed at all” He muttered under his breath following her as she stood up and headed back towards the main group.
“Oh but I have” Tossing her head to look back at him, flowing hair flicking round too “I’ve learnt my worth.” Her words were dripping with sass and a little passive-aggressiveness, but all Tom could think was how amazing she was, how much he had missed that little smirk she did while flicking her head back round and pull Paddy in for a side hug.
////////////////////////
The evening flew by, all of Paddy’s friends and their families went home, yet Y/n stayed and chatted with the Hollands as if this was completely normal. They had all long since migrated into the sitting room while the sun was setting, playing some board games of Paddy’s choice - his results long since forgotten early that evening. Truth be told, Y/n really enjoyed catching up with Harry and although they hadn’t really had any personal conversations- seeing Tom and taking the piss out of his uselessness at the games was also very enjoyable. After her and Paddy’s turn ended Y/n excused herself to go to the toilet but instead of going straight back to the living room she went to grab herself a glass of water.
“Oh Y/n… I was meaning to catch you” The soft and very very familiar voice startled her a little, the warm tone sending shivers down her spine as if a reflex. Turning round to see Tom leant against the counter with a small smile.
“Well what’s up then?” She tried not to be too open too quickly, as much as her heart just wanted to skip the small talk.
“Just wanted to catch up, it’s been a while and just feel like we should be friends since my family seem to sort of adopted you” She scoffed at his statement, very obviously rolling her eyes, a little annoyed.
“And who was it that didn’t want to be friends huh?” She raised an eyebrow and this was Toms turn to scoff as he looked down at the ground.
“Yeh yeh I deserve that… shall we just skip past the blaming me huh?” The cockiness wasn’t hidden in his voice and that made her laugh, clearly not that shy. In fact he was terrified, but wanted to look as if he didn’t care, like he was flippant.
“Alright Spiderman, so how’s life?” …
The truth about their break up was quite simple. Tom had got too busy and had stopped making time to their relationship. Y/n grew tired and had had enough, which he completely understood. He’d tried to promise more effort, flying back for extra weekends but they both new they were hollow, it wouldn’t be maintained. Their last meeting hadn’t been an angry shouty one, rather just depressingly sad. They’d both been upset, recahingn a mutual conclusion it was just the wrong time. Which they had both agreed with... but one thing they hadn’t. Tom thought it was like dangling a carrot in front of his face, having Y/n still present in his life. He had given her an ultimatum, they either keep going on together p as a couple or they would become strangers. And that’s where it had been left 2 years ago.
They spent the next half an hour or so, chatting away as if nothing had ever happened. It felt normal again, all jokingly catching up about the most ridiculous things - the low hum of the left on radio in the background. That was until a certain song came on the radio - it was ridiculous, the most insane unlikely eventuality to happen. Their old song.
Of course that would happen. Y/n released a breathy laugh and Tom’s grin just grew and grew across his face, slowly transferring into a smirk. He stood up from leaning across the counter, that Y/n was now sat cross-legged on top. In his ever so dramatic movie like style, he rounded the counter to her side, and held an arm out to her.
“Dance with me”
“Tom that’s-“
“Oh come on, dance with me!”
“You’re ridiculous”
“I know. So dance with me?”
“Tooommm” She drew out his name in refusal, but her body said something else as she slid off from the counter - delicately landing on tiptoes as she lowered herself down.
“Just come here, for old times sake” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him, transferring his hand to hover at her waist, not touching until she gave him a small nod in permission. Hesitantly she knew where her hands were supposed to go and slowly drifted them up to round his neck, but balanced her forearms further on his collarbones so she held her own hands rather than gripping his neck as was natural. They slowly moved in unison, just slightly rocking from one side to another - Tom’s eyes locked on hers.
“So are you happy?” Something about the way he said it made her internally shudder. It was the pure care, all his sarcasm and cockiness stripped back to expose himself just for this moment.
“Um yeh… I don’t know feel like I’m starting to figure out this whole ‘life’ thing.” She smiled up at his chocolate brown eyes, while he seemed to absorb all she said.
“And he treats you well?”
“He?” She narrowed her eyebrows in confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly.
“Oh er… before you said that ‘we’d moved out’ and I just assumed-“
“Ah um yeh I moved in with someone but he’s not in the picture anymore… got the bed to myself again” Tom thought she didn’t seem very affected by it yet still felt guilty for bringing it up.
“I’m sorry… er how long? Are you okay?”
“Yeh I really am. A year and a half so we taught each other a lot, but it was mutual. We’re still friends.” Smiling, Y/n watched as Tom nodded minutely and they drifted to silence, listening to the song bringing back all sorts of memories. “What about you? Got yourself a super model I assume?” She didn’t mean to ask that. Because why did she need to know? She didn’t care about that. Did she? Tom chuckled nervously before replying.
“Umm no. I haven’t really dated anyone since… just all the travelling and everything doesn’t really work with the dating scene.” His voice was quiet, as if hiding something, and he couldn’t meet her eyes looking at the floor.
“Oh… yeh I get that” Unconsciously letting her hands slip back, connecting with the back of his neck- instantly making him meet eyes with hers again. They just stared at each other, still swaying from side to side as the music flowed. He didn’t want this moment to end. And secretly… neither did she.
“I can’t take you seriously when you look at me like that” Breaking the intensity, nervously Y/n giggled, leaning away - but Tom’s arms, still on her waist, kept her from going anywhere.
“Like what?” His eyebrows raised, enjoying her nervous flush present on her cheeks a little more than he should.
“Like nothings changed” She all but whispered, the gap between the two almost magically diminishing. The pause was long as Tom tried to formulate the idea he so wanted to get across.
“ Maybe that’s because… right now I have exactly the same feelings I did two years ago… that maybe I want so badly to kiss you?” His voice was barely audible at the point, but their faces were barely centimetres from each other; noses hovering side by side as his lips brushed hers. He didn’t want to push her, yet at the same time one of his hands moved to her cheek - gently cupping it as his eyes flicked between her wide eyes and pink flushed lips.
“Maybe… maybe you should kiss me then?” The tension was palpable as she drew out her words, purposefully teasing him a little. Because she wanted to keep him on his toes. When her heard her suggestion she had to stop herself from giggling at the smile that instantly grew across his face, the way his pupils grew in shock . Safe to say he didn’t reply, instead slowly and delicately pressing his lips on hers. She reciprocated tentatively and deepened the kiss bit by bit. Her hands now running through his hair on the back of his head, Toms other hand now on the small of her back - closing the distance completely, their bodies connected. It didn’t last long before she pulled away the most seductive smile on her face, while Tom subtly tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of his lungs.
“We should go back” She whispered, while running her thumb over his left flicky eyebrow that always intrigued her. Suddenly his eyebrows furrowed in concern, worried he had made her feel uncomfortable. Instantly recognising this, she calmed his nerves very simply by pressing a fleeting kiss on his lips once again, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the living room.
As soon as they entered Y/n and Tom both realised how long they’d been in the kitchen. The game long since abandoned, probably waiting on one of their returns at their go, the rest of the Hollands now all sat lounging on different areas of the sofa - who all immediately looked up as they shuffled in. Luckily the lights were dimmed for the movie playing on the TV screen, so that no one would see her blushing cheeks. She sat in the middle of the sofa which only paddy was on, and Tom followed sitting next to her - but not too close that it would be suspicious . No words were exchanged throughout, though Nikki did exchange a knowing look with Dom - who had seemingly finally learnt when to keep his mouth closed. Both Y/n and Tom pretend to fix their full attention on the film for a short while, even if both their brains were whirring away with very very separate thoughts to any critical analysis of the storyline.
After about 10 minutes though, Tom pulled his leg up, just so it was obscuring the view to the sofa opposite and took the opportunity to clasp Y/n’s hands in his. Slickly, even though she wasn’t expecting the contact Y/n didn’t react her eyes still trained on the TV. However, Tom didn’t miss the small upward tug on her lips as she squeezed his hand back. No one noticed.
Except Paddy.
Paddy from his vantage point on the sofa he was sharing with the two, peered over subtly as he went to the loo - and a massive smirk appeared across his face. He might just’ve got his sister back.
#tomholland#tom holland x reader#idk how to use tags#idk how to use tumblr either#pls help#tom holland fluff
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giving sirius the childhood he deserves part 4
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE?”
remus choked as he entered the kitchen, smoke obscuring his view.
“sirius? sirius are you in here?”
out of the window above the sink, remus could make out the faint figure of his boyfriend waving a pan in the middle of the garden.
bursting out of the back door, remus headed towards the still burning food.
“what are you doing?”
sirius turned to face his boyfriend, revealing his ridiculous oven gloves.
“i was trying to make you something nice for our anniversary, but it didn’t really go to plan.”
“yes i can see that.”
sirius sat down on the grass defeatedly.
“i just wanted to do something special and you’re always the one that cooks and i-i don’t want to keep going to restaurants.”
remus wrapped a slender arm around sirius’ shoulders.
“well i can teach you if you like.”
sirius sniffed and shook his head.
“it’s okay, i already made a back-up reservation made at the italian anyway.”
remus planted a light kiss on sirius’ head, before helping him to his feet and leading him back inside.
“remus?”
“when did you learn to cook?”
“don’t do this, love.”
“you learnt with your mum, didn’t you?”
remus exhaled shakily and nodded ever so slightly. sirius swore and slammed the dish he was still holding on the counter. remus jumped and started to move towards his boyfriend, who left the room with tears in his eyes.
after a couple of minutes of deliberation in the middle of the kitchen, remus pulled a handful of recipe books off the shelf and headed upstairs.
he pushed the door open gently his gaze instantly falling to sirius, who was staring up at the ceiling blankly, tear stains still visible on his cheeks. he sat up as remus joined him on the bed.
“i didn’t mean to shout. i jus-”
remus reached out to gently run his thumb over sirius’ cheek.
“it’s okay. look, i brought these up so maybe we can go through them and we can a pick a couple of dishes to make together?”
sirius smiled up at remus, reaching for the closest book.
“can we make a birthday cake?”
“sure. for who?”
“for regulus. he’s obviously never had one so maybe?”
“i-yeah. why don’t we invite him and james for dinner and do the cake as dessert?”
“okay, i’ll ring them now so they keep next sunday free.”
remus nodded and began writing out a shopping list, including additional quantities in preparation for the disaster that would likely take place.
sirius burst back into room with a smile - “they’re coming!”
—
remus woke up and rolled over to check the time.
“sirius! sirius, wake up, it’s half nine!”
sirius sat up and pushed his hair back behind his ear.
“so? they’re not coming till seven.”
“but how are we supposed to let chicken marinate for five hours and then cook it and then put the cake in and have it all ready in time? get up!”
remus ripped the duvet off the bed, earning an exclamation from sirius who flinched at the sudden cold.
by the time sirius got down to the kitchen, remus already had measured the ingredients for the chicken pie. the kettle boiled and sirius went to pour himself a cup of coffee but remus swatted his hand away.
“that’s for the pastry - you can’t drink it.”
sirius looked around and shrugged.
“where’s the book? with the instructions.”
“i don’t have one for this pie - it’s just my mum’s recipe. it’s in here” remus said tapping the side of his head, accidentally leaving a flour mark.
sirius giggled as remus shook his head, realising his mistake.
“okay what can i do?” sirius asked, reaching across the counter to prod the ball of pastry remus kneading.
“well not that. but you can make the marinade if you want. it’s super easy just put-”
remus reeled off a list of spices half of which sirius had never heard of and even didn’t know they had in their cupboards.
“-and put it in the same bowl as those pieces of chicken over there. then just mix it all together, but make sure the chicken is properly covered - it might be okay easier to use your hands because spoons often miss a bit.”
it felt like a tonne of information but sirius nodded anyway.
“it’s so squidgy!” he squealed, quickly retracting his hands.
“NO!”
remus lunged across the room as sirius went to lick his finger.
“what?”
“it-that’s raw chicken! do you want to die?”
“die? remus i-”
“sorry i didn’t mean to be so aggressive but-”
“you have my express permission to be aggressive if you’re about to save my life” sirius assured him.
remus nodded and turned back to the pastry tin he was lining and brushing over with an egg wash.
“baby?” sirius asked tentatively, not wanting to question remus’ methods or experience, “why have you made the pastry so early if the chicken has to sit around for a few hours?”
“it has to be cooked once before, and then we’ll add the chicken and the pastry lid and then cook it properly.”
“oh okay.”
sirius hoisted himself onto the counter and sat quietly watching remus’ eyebrows get closer and closer together as he cut small leaf shapes out often excess pastry.
“you okay?” remus asked once he’d put the pastry in the oven.
sirius nodded, fiddling with the punnet of strawberries that were on the side.
“can we make the cake now?”
“let’s wash this stuff up first before the mess becomes too unbearable.”
sirius rolled his eyes.
“but that’s so boring.”
remus’ eyes flashed up at him and he sighed as he jumped off the counter to collect the dirty cutlery. with the draining board now full, remus turned to face sirius, pushing a handful of bubbles into his face.
“hey!” sirius spluttered, picking up his own bubbles to smear across remus’ cheeks.
remus smiled, the soap dripping into his mouth. he blew a kiss in his boyfriend’s direction, the bubbles floating down in between them. sirius grinned as remus turned away to open the recipe book to a chocolate cake.
“cakes are pretty easy” remus explained. “you throw everything in one bowl, mix it and put it in the oven. no! stop! not literally throw.”
“it makes it more fun. let me throw one egg - just one.”
“it has to go in the bowl, okay?”
“no promises” sirius said with a wink.
he picked up the biggest egg he could find and launched it at the bowl remus was holding up. it caught the edge of the glass bowl, and as the yolk split, some of it hit remus.
“right, you’ve had your fun, now come and wipe it up so we can finish this on time.”
sirius raised his eyebrow at remus’ sharp tone: “yes sir.”
remus stuck his tongue out as he crouched down to take the pastry out of the oven. he quickly covered the base in the chicken and put the lid on top. returning the pie to the oven, remus stood back up to continue making the cake batter.
“it says here” sirius said as he watched remus add cocoa powder, “that i should lick the spoon.”
remus snorted.
“does it really?”
“mhmm.”
“well i guess we’d better follow the instructions then” remus said as sirius’ eyes glowed.
“this tastes so good, moony!”
“well you can’t have any more” remus said, moving the bowl out of sirius’ reach, “or there won’t be any left to actually go in the oven.”
“oh” sirius said with a hint of disappointment.
“it’ll taste better once it’s actually cooked.”
sirius screwed up his nose in disbelief, but put his dirty spoon in the sink anyway.
“can you wash the strawberries please?” remus asked as he started to weigh out more chocolate for the icing.
“what strawberries?”
“the ones that were on the si- DID YOU FUCKING EAT THEM?”
“i saved some for you” sirius said sheepishly, holding out two single berries. “okay i’ll go to the shop quickly. be back soon.”
leaving a small kiss on remus’ cheek, sirius left.
the doorbell rang just as the oven timer went off. rushing to find the oven gloves to take the pie out of the oven, remus noticed the bottle of wine on the side that hadn’t been put in the fridge to chill.
rolling his eyes, he carefully pushed the pie out of its baking tin and answered the door.
regulus stood on the doorstep with james’ arms thrown casually over his shoulders.
“happy birthday!”
regulus smiled as remus let them in. sirius suddenly appeared behind them holding four packets of strawberries.
“what?” he said indignantly as all three of them looked at him. “i didn’t know how many we’d need.”
“i-okay” remus said, as they all headed into the kitchen.
the evening passed quickly as sirius rushed the pie to get the cake to the table. regulus pretended to coverhis ears as they sang at him terribly. with james’ head on his shoulder, regulus slapped his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth so he could blow the candles out by himself. james bit at his fingers and regulus crinkled up his nose.
as regulus cut the cake sirius watched his brother’s expression carefully, taking in the slight colour change in his cheeks. eventually regulus was unable to hide it any longer, and his smile spread uncontrollably across his face. he looked up across the table at sirius, who nodded, matching regulus’ smile.
“you were wrong, you know,” sirius mumbled to remus, with his slice of cake in front him, “it does not taste better cooked.”
#harry potter#remus lupin#sirius black#wolfstar#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#cake batter tastes better than the final product fight me
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drunk in love (m)
pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader
genre: smut, fluff
summary: ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.
word count: 2.8k
a/n: hi!! this is my first one-shot that’s really just a smutty continuation to this drabble (but you don’t need to read it beforehand)!!! i had a lot of fun writing this self-indulgent piece sdhfjshdfjs some feedback would be greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoy drunk+needy yukhei :))) as always thanks for reading <3
–
“baby… where did you go?”
the sudden sound frightens you for a second, making you tighten your grip on your cup of water as you walk down the dark hallway of your silent apartment. it’s past midnight, and the only source of brightness is the bedside lamp in your bedroom. a soft groan comes from there, and you quicken your steps.
just as you enter your room, you hear your name being whined needily in a deep voice.
propped up against the headboard and still fully dressed in his now crumpled suit, your boyfriend pouts at you like a kid whose candy got stolen.
“i was just getting you some water, yukhei,” you sigh.
“you left me alone. come back here,” he mumbles, even though you’re just two steps away from him.
you stare at him in amusement, enjoying his drunk self who’s three times more desperate for your affection.
to be honest, you knew you were going to end up in a situation like this. in fact, you pretty much saw this coming a few hours ago when the two of you were at sicheng’s wedding — where yukhei had one too many.
he shrugged you off each time you eyed him as his wine glass had a refill, squeezing your thigh with his hand that had been resting there the entire night. it definitely didn’t help that kunhang was sitting on yukhei’s other side, too. the two boys kept joking around with their own drinking challenge, but unlike your boyfriend, kunhang was actually capable of handling his liquor.
by the time the newlywed couple came over to your table, yukhei was half-gone, giggling at every single thing that came from sicheng’s mouth.
but as humiliated as you were over your boyfriend’s drunk antics, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. after all, it had been a long time since you last saw him playing around with the gang — and you weren’t going to dampen the mood on such a joyous occasion. even though yukhei’s antics earned you a few weird stares from the other guests, it was nothing you couldn’t handle.
“dude, you know sicheng’s mum just passed by us right?” dejun snickered at yukhei, who had been throwing peanuts at yangyang sitting across the table.
he went on like this, entertaining the boys till the end of the night. after most guests had left, ten offered to give you both a lift home out of concern. you thanked him in relief just seconds before yukhei pulled you onto his lap, refusing to let you get up and making everyone erupt in laughter.
but only you knew that yukhei wasn’t just drunk.
ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.
but now, as you watch him down the cup of water in one go before placing it on the bedside table with a thud, you’re pretty confident your boyfriend is going to doze off anytime… which means that the anticipation that had you buzzing throughout the night would unfortunately just have to die.
“so hot,” yukhei mumbles.
his hand reaches for his neatly done tie you had helped him with earlier, pulling the knot as if it was going to loosen right away.
a sigh leaves your lips as you take a seat next to him and help him undress. his eyes are droopy, and you keep glancing at him to see if they’re shut, but he’s just observing you quietly.
“arms up.” you tell him when you finish unbuttoning his shirt.
you expect him to comply, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“trying to get me naked, hm?” he chuckles incoherently, and you just snort and brush his comment off.
he lifts his arms anyway, and you quickly remove his shirt, dumping it on the floor. by now, the drowsiness is getting to you. you’re dying to take your makeup off and finally hit the sheets — it’s all you can think of as you undo the buckle on yukhei’s belt and pull his pants off, which almost has you sweating.
just as you stand to head to the bathroom, yukhei’s large hand circles around your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed in a swift moment.
“baby, come here. i wanna tell you a secret.” yukhei murmurs, and you stare at him, waiting for a joke.
“no, no. come closer.”
and you do, shamelessly taking a seat right on his crotch which makes his lips twitch into a smirk. his hand leaves your wrist and runs up your arm to the back of your neck, where he pulls you even closer until you feel him breathing by your ear.
“you’re so pretty.” he whispers.
you turn to face him with a lazy smile before pecking him on the cheek. “thank you, yukhei. you told me so many times.”
and he did, he was showering you with compliments all night, each one getting cheesier than the last.
you’re about to move away again, but his grip on your neck tightens as he whines at you to wait. this time, you comply when you notice his gaze darting from your cleavage to your lips, and then your eyes. there’s a hint of lust that you recognise all too well.
“i keep thinking about ripping this dress off and fucking you until you can’t walk.”
just like that, a fiery heat lights up your entire body and you almost gasp, but your breath hitches in your throat. the satisfaction of realising yukhei didn’t forget about his promise makes you dizzy, and all the excitement floods your entire being at once.
stunned and speechless, you rest your forehead against his, thinking of what to say. but you’re very much distracted.
his hands curve around your bum, moving your core against his obvious hard-on, and every bone in your body instantly turns weak. you feel like putty whenever his hands are on you like this, and right now it’s taking everything in you to not grind on him.
“yukhei, b-babe... you’re too drunk.” you stutter, but your body only betrays you as your hips slowly begin to move with his guidance.
“i can still make you come,” he says seriously without an ounce of doubt.
the tension in the air thickens when his hands smooth over the soft skin of your thighs, moving beneath your dress and pushing it up in a slow and teasing manner, almost like he’s daring you to say no.
but you know you’ll say yes anyway — and he knows that too.
so you nod shyly, as if you haven’t been anticipating this moment for the entire night, as if you weren’t bummed at the thought of not being fucked tonight.
yukhei doesn’t waste a single second. his plush lips practically attack yours as he rolls you over to the empty side of the bed hastily.
you feel his hands slide down your spine, desperately in search of the zipper, and you arch your back to help him. just as you’re beginning to taste the champagne on his lips, he pulls away and rushes a trail of wet kisses down your neck.
then he’s dragging the zipper downwards, and you sigh in content when your dress finally loosens after hours of clinging onto your skin. the sucking against your neck stops abruptly, and you watch yukhei sit on his knees clumsily as he expertly tugs your dress off.
you’re thankful for the dim lighting in the bedroom when you feel the heat on your cheeks. yukhei just kneels in front of you, marveling at your almost bare body like a work of art he’s never seen before — except he has, on too many occasions.
“fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he muses, his gaze heavy with lust. yet when he leans down and kisses you, it’s sweet.
you’ve lost count of how many times he has complimented you tonight. but it doesn’t matter, you realise, because this one makes you feel most powerful.
he kisses down the valley between your breasts to the only piece of clothing left on you — your silk panties, that are already drenched.
there’s no time to be embarrassed about it. yukhei moves quickly until the tip of his nose is grazing the wet spot on your panties, and you feel hot breaths of air against your opening.
the mere heat drives you insane, and all you want is for him to be inside you, stretching and filling you to the brim already. but you have a feeling he’s got other plans.
“not tonight yukhei, i need you to fuck me n-now,” you say desperately, and he raises his head to look at you.
“and you said i was too drunk,” he chuckles.
“babe…please,”
“at least let me eat you out first, baby.”
before you can protest, you feel his fingers hook onto your panties and drag them off your legs. his warm hands run up your thighs, spreading them apart until you feel your leaking center exposed to the cool air in the room.
there’s a moment of silence before he lets his tongue glide along your wet folds teasingly, and all you can manage is a gasp.
“you’re so wet, baby.”
yukhei squeezes your thighs when you don’t respond.
“you’ve been waiting for me all night?”
you hum pitifully, not bothering to pretend anymore.
“my baby is so needy, hm? let me take care of her.”
and then his tongue dives into you without warning, curling against your walls in a manner that has a series of broken moans escape your lips.
your hands slide through his long locks as yukhei eats you out like a starving man, his strong hands holding your quivering thighs down.
you’re reeling in pleasure when he suddenly sucks on your clit and adds a finger in you, throwing you off guard again. in a split second your back arches, but he holds your hips down.
yukhei groans when he sees the wrecked state you’re in — you’re writhing against the bedsheets, your hands now gripping onto your pillowcase for dear life.
dragging his long fingers against your soaking walls, he rubs your sensitive bud softly and watches as your mouth starts to hangs open with not a single sound coming out.
“you’re so sexy like this,” you hear him say, but you’re too overwhelmed to even acknowledge it.
it only takes a minute before he feels you reach your climax, and his fingers move faster. you’re chanting his name when he suddenly climbs over you to press his lips against yours. his fingers leave just in time for your wetness to flow out of you.
“fuck,” yukhei mumbles as he pulls away.
you watch him lean back and lick your arousal off his fingers lewdly, the image only making you crave for him to pleasure you again even though you just came.
a curl falls over his forehead as yukhei sheds his boxers off. you bite your bottom lip as you take in the view of his ridiculously handsome face, his abs and the deep v-lines leading to his hard, throbbing dick.
as if he’s reading your mind, yukhei moves to situate himself between your thighs that are still spread open. you’re still reveling in the bliss of your orgasm when he runs the tip of his shaft against your glistening lips and lets out a curse.
impatient, you rest your hands on the sides of his hips and pull him close to you. he gets the message right away, sliding all of him into you in one go at a slow, delicious pace. your wetness welcomes him with ease, and you sigh at the feeling of your walls hugging his thick length.
yukhei’s eyebrows furrow as his hands move to hold up the back of your thighs. he bends down to peck the corner of your lips, shifting himself inside you a little, which makes you moan.
“you feel so good… so warm and wet for me baby, fuck.”
“i’m all yours,” you say and he groans, rolling his hips slowly.
growing impatient, you tighten your grip on his broad shoulders and run a hand down his chest. you open your mouth to tell him to fuck you already but his lips crash into yours, silencing you. you mewl as he swiftly pushes your thighs against your chest and rests your calves on his shoulders, interlocking his hands with yours.
then he’s thrusting into you slowly, just for a few seconds, and pounding into you without restraint.
your eyes shut out of pleasure as you revel in the way his length hits you deeper in this position, brushing against your sensitive spot. yukhei buries his face in the crook of your neck, where he grunts lowly.
you lie on the bed helplessly, folded into half, letting your boyfriend fuck you the way he loves. the sinful noises he makes along with the sound of skin slapping in the air rings in your ears. your walls are tightening around him as you feel your second orgasm building up again.
“b-babe,” his pet name leaves your lips in a whimper.
“come for me baby,” he tells you in a husky voice, his pace picking up as he thrusts into you without a care in the world.
“want you to come for me again,” yukhei mutters, one of his hands reaching to cradle your face.
the euphoria hits you on cue like a wave. you sob softly, freezing for a moment as one side of your face presses against your pillow.
you can’t see your core but you know it’s a huge sticky mess, and you hear your arousal splattering onto the sheets as yukhei continues pounding into you hard and fast. you know he’s reaching his own high — it doesn’t take him long when he’s drunk.
his hand turns your face towards his and he kisses you, this time sucking on your bottom lip. you feel his length twitching before it sinks into you one last time, filling your insides with his warm release.
a few minutes pass as you both stay like this, listening to each other’s breathing and calming down together… until you accidentally move your sore thighs, which makes you wince.
yukhei shushes you immediately, giving you a quick smooch before reluctantly pulling himself out of you. then, he straightens your legs, pausing whenever he hears you hiss.
you shut your eyes for a few moments before gathering whatever strength you have left in your body to sit up on your elbows. doing your best to ignore the soreness of your thighs, you watch as yukhei makes his way to you with a towel and your sleeping gown in hand.
as he cleans you up gently, you observe him in awe, realising that this man was behaving like a giggly drunk just earlier. it amazes you that even after that many glasses of wine, he had the energy to fuck you like that, instead of having you do the work.
yukhei grins devilishly when he catches you staring at him, deep in thought. he climbs over you carefully, avoiding your thighs, and kisses you softly — nothing like the man who folded you into half just minutes ago.
“i need to pee,” you mumble in embarrassment when he finally pulls away, which makes him let out that deep chuckle you adore so much.
“then go pee. you need me to carry you, baby?” he asks sweetly as he gets up, and you know what he’s playing at.
but you’re too tired to bicker with him, so you just open your arms and wait for him to lift you into his embrace — which he gladly does, with extra care, smirking at you the entire time he’s carrying you to the bathroom.
he waits for you to pee and helps you wash your makeup off. when he hands you your toothbrush with a smudge of toothpaste on top, your heart leaps and you want to be back in bed, snuggled up against him already.
your mouth hangs open as you’re ready to brush your teeth, but a huge yawn comes out instead. yukhei’s lips lift into a lazy smile as he giggles at you. you don’t think much about it as you start brushing your teeth, but when you glance at the mirror and see him just grinning at you in adoration with his own toothbrush still in his hand, your movements come to a halt.
“what?”
“i love you, my kind and beautiful goddess sent from above.”
“i love you too, but you are so drunk babe.”
“yeah,” he says, smiling so wide that all his teeth are showing now. “drunk in love.”
–
#yukhei smut#lucas smut#wayv smut#xuxi smut#yukhei fluff#lucas fluff#wayv fluff#yukhei x reader#lucas x reader#wayv x reader#nct smut#nct fluff#lucas wong#wong yukhei#yukhei imagines#yukhei scenarios#wayv imagines#wayv scenarios#reposting this :///#it didn't appear under the tags uggghh why!!
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A Bad Arrangement-Thomas Shelby x Reader
(GIF credit to @sihtrics)
Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! Could I request a tommy imagine in which the reader and him are in an arranged Marriage. She tries to be a good wife, but he’s very cold towards her and she feels sad about it. One day he comes home in a rather sour mood and the reader tries to cheer him up, but since he’s upset he says something harmful to her which makes her cry. He feels bad and goes to talk to her and tells her the reason he was cold towards her is because he was scared she would end up like grace. A fluffy ending pls❤️’
Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Neglect, sadness, arguing, swearing, mention of death, fluff
(A/N: I changed it slightly, it worked better with the direction of the plot)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Charlie's cries could be heard throughout the house, and my instincts kicked in. He wasn't my child, but I had always had a strong nurturing side. I carefully rushing up the stairs, hurrying down the hall to his room when one member of staff stopped me.
"It's alright Mrs Shelby, I'll tend to him." she quietly said.
"No, it's fine, I can look after him. I'm sure you're swept off your feet." I tried to move around her, but she blocked me.
"Please miss."
I sighed."Tommy told you to not let me near him, didn't he?"
Her silence gave me the answer. She hesitated before turning around, making her way into Charlie's room. The door closed before I could even peak inside, and Charlie's cries died down. The frustration in me was building up, I had never felt so humiliated or like an outcast in my entire life. And even in my house, I didn't belong.
As I walked back downstairs, I glanced up at the huge painting of Grace, Tommy's former wife. On the one hand, I understood why he kept it up; he was in love with her, they had a child together, and it was a tragic death. However, it felt as if he was mocking me, telling me that I wasn't as good as her, that I could never live up to her. And he wasn't shy about expressing that either.
This wasn't the marriage I had dreamed of, not the life my mother had told me I would have. After trying and failing to find that love everyone so desperately seeks, I somehow ended up in the clutches of the Shelby's. An arranged marriage (more like a business proposal) had been made between my family and theirs, just so they could tread on some of our territory. We weren't a gang like them, but my father was a powerful man, and he knew how to protect his business. Hence why I was part of the deal; marry the wealthy man's daughter, or lose out on a massive piece of land that would benefit them in the future. The marriage also made a tie between our families, meaning we were supposed to be friendly at all times. Which is why I never told my family about the way I was treated, it would cause an even bigger problem.
I continued down to the kitchen, smelling the freshly baked goods. There were biscuits cooling on a rack, and I hovered my hand above them, checking they weren't too hot. As no one was looking, I pinched one of them, quickly weaving my way out of there, and down to the wine cellar as I ate it. I had noticed that Tommy was in need of another bottle of whiskey in his office (I had been searching for him the day before, not finding him anywhere as usual, and for some reason, it was something that I picked up on), and this was another way to waste time for myself. My finger ran along the many bottles we had, picking up a random one. It seemed fine, I still wasn't aware of what made a good whiskey.
Although I had a feeling that Tommy wasn't in, I knocked on his office door anyway, scared of what would happen if I just entered. When no reply came, I opened it slowly, looking into the room before taking a step inside. My eyes roamed around the place, taking everything in. Tommy never let in me in for a long time, it was the one room I never knew. Slowly making my way towards the trolley stuffed with glasses of alcohol, I swapped the empty whiskey for the new one. That man's alcohol tolerance was amazing.
My head whipped around when I heard echoing footsteps, frozen as I thought about how angry Tommy would be when he caught me. I almost tripped over myself as I moved away from his desk, clutching onto the bottle. The door swun open, and he slammed it behind him before noticing me. With that usual cold expression, he stopped for a second.
"What are you doing in here?" he snapped, storming towards his desk.
"I-I saw that you had no whiskey, so I replaced it." I hated that I stuttered.
He lit a cigarette, not looking at me anymore."Someone else could have done that."
"I don't mind. I mean, it's done now anyway." I gulped."How was your day?"
"Fine."
I waited for him to ask me, even if he wasn't interested. But when he sensed that I hadn't left, he finally glanced at me again.
"Is there anything else?" he mumbled.
"No."
Scurrying away, I held in my tears until the door closed. Hugging the bottle to my chest, I whimpered unexpectedly. When was the last time I had smiled? When was the last time I hadn't cried one day after the other. My hand was shaking as I dumped the bottle onto a nearby table. It wasn't fair. I had been good all my life, why was I being punished?
The evening arrived, meaning another day of not existing was about to pass. Slumping upstairs after another lonely meal, I headed towards our room, when I saw Charlie standing up in his cot. He smiled as he spotted me, wriggling around and giggling. No one was going to stop me from seeing that boy, he had lost one mother, he wasn't going to lose another.
"Hi," I gushed as I approached him, both of us smiling at each other,"you should be asleep."
I picked him up, cradling him close to me, his tiny arms wrapping around me. I rocked him as I rubbed his back, taking the feeling in. He was instantly calmed, snuggling into me, and I cherished it. I wanted a child of my own. I wanted to know that feeling of being pregnant, the connection you had as soon as you gave birth, and for Charlie to have a sibling to play with. Just as I thought he had settled, about to place him back in his cot, he whined, and I straightened up again.
"Mummy." his words were muffled in my shoulder, but I heard it anyway.
He hadn't called me that before. It wasn't a mistake. Charlie knew I wasn't his real mum, and yet he had just called me that. I could hear his breathing become deeper, he had to be asleep by now. Though I didn't want to separate myself from him, I reluctantly laid him down, kissing his head ever so gently. Tiptoeing put of his bedroom, I pulled the door closed silently, luckily not waking him up as it clicked shut.
Most nights I couldn't sleep anyway, I would just lie in the plush bed, head resting on the finest of pillows; still with all this comfort, my mind was still wide awake. The way Charlie had said 'mummy' repeated itself over and over. Of course I had cried over it, but I had also cried at the joy he gave me. My heart hadn't felt such love for a long time. Tommy could be heard coming up the stairs, and I knew it was him because all of the staff were dismissed for the night; and the fact that it was three in the morning.
I rolled onto my side, pulling the covers over me. My eyes stayed open as I saw the light from the hallway illuminate the room, but we were shut in darkness again. Closing my eyes to seem asleep, I heard Tommy fumble around, sighing a couple of times. After a few minutes, the bed dipped beside me, but I knew he wasn’t lying down yet. When we were first married, I had tried to lay near him, wishing he would hold me just once. And it was extremely rate for him to even be in bed, not that it made any difference. Over time, I had inched further away from him, creating a huge space between us. I hadn’t cried myself to sleep in a while, and tonight I seemed to be falling back into that habit, whether it was due to what Charlie said or because Tommy yelled at me. But I couldn’t cry freely tonight, not with Tommy in the room. It wasn’t something I could control, so I subtly buried my head into the pillow, hoping that my shoulders weren’t shaking too much. Even if he did see me in such a state, it wouldn't phase him. He would probably slip away to fund peace elsewhere.
I could feel how puffy my eyes were in the morning, dried tears masked on my cheeks. My hand ran down my face, before flopping down to my sides. I didn't need to check if Tommy was there, he was never there in the morning.
Not bothering to dress for breakfast, I tied my robe around me, head hung low as I walked down the hallway. The only time I looked up from the ground was to see if Charlie was awake, but he had already been taken out of his room. I had to see that boy again today, I had to hear him call me 'mummy' again.
As I sat at the table, waiting to be served breakfast, the head housekeeper, Frances, approached me. She didn't have any food with her, nor anyone following her.
"Mrs Shelby, I have been asked to pass on a message from Mr Shelby." she started, seeming nervous.
My mind instantly jumped to the worst thoughts, panicking that something terrible had happened."What is it?"
"He has...demanded that you stay away from Charlie."
"Stay away?"
"He says you were told before that you weren't to interact, and apparently you have violated that."
"And leave that boy without a mother?"
"I'm sorry miss, it's what he ordered. My staff would be in trouble-"
"I understand." I accidentally snapped, regretting my tone."Is he here? Of course he's not, when is he ever here?"
"No, he isn't."
I could stand to be in that room anymore, not with all the tension I had caused. Frances backed away when I stood, and I left without a second glance. No matter how big this house was, I always felt like I was in a tiny box, like it was being crushed and no one cared if it hurt me. Sprinting out of the front door, I ignored the sharp gravel digging into my feet, heading towards the open field we had for the horses. I looked like someone who had escaped an asylum.
Everything around me was Tommy's, there was nothing of value that I owned here. He was in charge, he had control. I no longer had a life here, that had disappeared as soon as the ring was put on my finger. I tugged at my wedding band, desperate to take it off my finger, as if it was burning me; but it was stuck there, refusing to budge. I screamed out in frustration, slamming the ground with my fists. Tommy Shelby was a cruel man, and for what? I wasn't Grace, I understood that, but why did he have to be so horrible?
With my arms crossed over my chest, remnants of dirt still on my hands, I paced around Tommy's office. I didn't care if I wasn't supposed to be in here, he was going to answer my questions. I still wasn't dressed, and it was well into the late afternoon now. If I had to, I would wait all night in that room. Luckily I wouldn't have to, because his care had pulled up on the driveway, and it was only a matter of a few minutes when we would face each other.
He didn't hold back his deep sigh when he opened the door."Why are you in here again?"
"I want to speak to you." I confidently said.
"It'll have to wait." he headed towards his desk, and I scoffed at him.
"No, it won't wait. I won't wait. What made you think that you could stop me from seeing Charlie?"
"(Y/N), I am not about to argue with you."
I raised my voice, my emotions getting the better of me."He's only a baby! He needs a mother figure. You know, that boy is my only source of happiness in this hell hole, and you've taken that away from me!"
"Stop trying so fucking hard!" He yelled back."He's not your son, he's mine! You didn't give birth to him, my dead wife did! You don't do anything to benefit this family, I could have easily taken over your father's territory, but instead I chose the peaceful way, which I regret every day of my life!"
My bottom lip trembled, tears streaming down my face."You don't mean that."
"Oh but I do." he seethed."You don't understand what I do out there to keep us protected, to make sure I can feed us, to make sure no one dies!"
He quickly walked towards me, and I was too scared to stand my ground. I cried out as I fled for the door, clumsily opening it before escaping. My sobbing was loud through the spacious halls, footsteps heavy on the stairs, slamming the bedroom door as hard as I could once I was inside. My shaking legs managed to carry me to the bed before I collapsed, finding myself crying there once again.
It must have been an hour later when the door clicked open. I tensed up, slowly backing up against the headboard as Tommy stepped in. He stared at me, and I thought I saw a moment of sadness in his eyes, but told myself I imagined it. Cautiously approaching me, I stayed still as he stood at the end of the bed, hands in his pockets with his head bowed.
"I'm sorry."
"W-what?" I was in disbelief, he had never apologised to me.
He raised his head, looking me dead in the eye."I'm sorry for shouting at you, I know I scared you. I never want to do that."
I said nothing, hoping he would add onto that.
"I don't like being horrible to you. You don't deserve it."
"Then why do you do it?"
He seemed surprised that I had spoke."I do it to protect you."
"What do you mean?"
"I fell in love with Grace. I let her in, I told her things about the business. And she died. She took a bullet that was meant for me, and I'll never forgive myself for that. I had set up a life that wouldn't involve another woman, it would just be me and Charlie. And then this happened. I couldn't hurt or kill your father, I didn't have any reason to, it was more beneficial to make a deal. And you were a part of that."
"You didn't want anymore blood on your hands." I mumbled.
"Although I was desperate to not marry you, not just because we didn't know each other, but I didn't want to put you in the same danger as Grace. By not getting close to you, not taking an interest, I didn't have the chance to gain any feelings, even a friendship."
"You took Charlie away from me. It tipped me over the edge."
"I know."
"You've hurt me a lot Tommy."
"And I wish I hadn't. It seemed the only way to keep you safe."
"I wasn't asking you to love me. What I really wanted was at least a friendship. If you didn't want Charlie to see me as a mother-"
"I know what he called you the other day."
"The maid who told me about you sneaking in, she mentioned it."
"Are you mad?"
"No. But I'm angry that my son has been able to move on faster than I have."
"He hasn't moved on, he doesn't fully understand what happened. Charlie will remember Grace if we talk about her."
"You would want that?"
"If you want him to remember, who am I to take that away from him?"
He raised an eyebrow at me."I thought you would be screaming at me more."
"I don't want to do that. I don't want to be sad anymore. We have a lot of problems to fix, a lot of things to be talked about. But I'm tired, I can't deal with it now, not tonight."
He rounded the bed, coming to my side. Still apprehensive, I watched him closely. There was nothing to be scared of now, not when he was reaching his arms out to me. Reluctantly sitting up on my knees, I glanced into his eyes one last time, before practically engulfing him in the tightest hug possible. It felt good when he squeezed me back. It wasn't as if we had just suddenly fallen in love, we had made a connection, we were wiping the slate clean. Feelings were still hurt, there were things that needed mending between us, but it was a start.
"Can you forgive me for how I've treated you?" He whispered into my ear.
I sighed, tightening my grip."I will, over time."
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagines#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby one shot#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagines#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby one shot#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders one shot#peaky blinders x reader#bbc peaky blinders#Peaky Blinders bbc
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Sinfully Sweetheart pt.9
A/N: uhm yeah my attempt to continue this series with our fav twins... well.. its trashy I'm so sorry lol - tell me if you want a pt2 to this one so I can make it up for you lol (also it’s not really edited since I couldn't get myself to reread this)
other parts can be found in my masterlist
Warnings : slight NSFW, also reader is ‚slightly‘ drunk (but not drunk drunk they can still think straight)
Atsumu & Osamu
Well you and the twins know each other since you’re born practically
Your parents are Highschool friends
And that’s why you’re here now
At some get together of your parents Highschool group
It’s cool and all since you’re friends with some of their daughters, who are almost like sisters for you
And you haven’t seen them that often the past months - you’re all in your 20’s now, meaning different cities, different universities, different jobs, some are already engaged - the whole : Who are you in your 20’s span of : not knowing what you’re getting for dinner to Let me pick up my kids real quick, my husband is still at work
Due to exam season you haven’t had a real chance to dress up or go out, since all your nights are spent in front of your laptop, with a glass of wine at 3am, helping you with your existential crisis and your fits are what you already wore at 3am
SO NOW
It’s your time to…. Feel human again.
Taking a shower, putting on a hair and face mask, painting your nails, putting on some lipstick and eyeliner, finally being able to wear all the hot fits you brought at 4am right after your existential crisis - yeah the usual
Currently your moms best friends are gushing over how much you’re grown up etc and telling embarrassing stories of your childhood
The fun part tho - you’ve grown up soooo much - so you’re now getting handed the good stuff and not some apple juice
You’re on your… 3rd Margarita now
Your 2 „Sisters“ at their 4rd - they both brought their boyfriends with them who are also forced to drive tonight
“Why are you still sitting here with us the whole time?“ One of the mums ask, making you all look at her confused
“I mean, shouldn’t you dance?“ She corrected herself laughing
“Yeah, isn’t that the song you three always danced to?“ Your mum laughs.
Talking about embarrassing stories: Yes you danced to “Pony“ by Ginuwine
Atsumu starts laughing, “Yeah please show us, haven’t you just told us how much you missed riding.“
Great. Just great. you ignored the twins the whole time until now.
Why? Well your best friends attends the same college as Atsumu and after all her bragging abilities how lucky you can be to be friends with such good looking twins… you started to look at them differently? They’ve always been the „chaotic twins“ who you know since you can remember.
Yet after she gushed about them for hours and proved her points with pictures on instagram
You had a rather strange dream that night.
And you can’t look at them anymore now
The sinning was WAY TOO BAD
Back to the now
Taking a big sip you roll your eyes at his comment and sass “Well, judging from what I’ve heard you’re quite a pro at... instructing how to ride properly.“
Osamu chocked on his drink
Their mother takes a big sip of her red wine
But Atsumu gets up and now towers over you
Fuck
Don’t think of that dream now, Don’t - don’t - don’t
“That’s right.“ He grins, “And as far as I can remember your skills need some serious practice.“ He smirks and now you’re almost choking on your own breath
"Let me help you, yes?“ He extends his hand, but you just look at it while you feel your face getting redder with every second
"Tsumu, stop it.“ Osamu says and you look at him as if he’s your knight in shining armor-
Until he opens his mouth again
"She’s still our small innocent y/n.“ He laughs and looks at you with slightly closed eyes.
"Oh yeah, yer right, I forgot.“ Atsumu laughs, but quickly stops when you get up and take his hand dragging him away from the table to the open space
Was it the Margaritas giving you the confidence? Probably yes.
That has to be the reason why you’re currently placing one of your hands around Atsumu’s neck and press your back on his chest
His hands are placed on your waist, trying to keep it all “our parents are watching“ friendly
Starting to body roll on him you feel his grip tightening, making sure you’re staying as close as possible
When you arch your back though- you hear him coughing “Our parents are still watching.“
As if the playlist heard his wishes, the song changed to “Bootylicious“.
You laugh and turn around “Ohhh come on ( your friends names), that’s our song.“ You say remembering that you three had a whole choreography planned for this song
“Wow and what about me?“ Atsumu teases
“You haven’t given me any instructions so you’re useless.“ You smile brightly and push him away
Laughing it off he walks back to the table and sits down next to Osamu
The whole situation long forgotten you pull of your choreography, which includes way more hip shakes and “I dropped my phone“ or “where’s my phone“ moves than you remembered
Your parents are all outside at this point enjoying the warm summer night
What you’re not noticing though is the fact that Atsumu’s and Osamu’s eyes are fixed on your every move
Slowly they start to realise that you’re not… so innocent anymore
So it doesn’t hurt to play with you a bit right?
That said they join you on the dace floor, together with the others boyfriends
Right now some Sean Paul song’s on
Osamu is right in fort of you meaning he’s you’re new dance partner now - If he wants it or not
But believe me he wants it
Your hands on his chest, running slightly down his torso as you go down to the beat, still looking up at him through your lashes
Getting back up you’re wrapping your arms around Osamu’s neck
Immediately his hands find their way to your lower back, pulling you against him
"Well.. what happened to our innocent babygirl?“ He whispers in your ear
You can feel his breath on your neck
His chest pressing against you with every breath he takes
His strong grip holing you in place
This whole scenario reminds you way too much of your dream
"Ohh, suddenly shy again?“ He teases while guiding your body to move to the beat
"Uhm.. no I - uhm..“ You stutter
"Yes?“ He asks, but before you can answer, you’re pulled away from Osamu and pressed against a slightly more toned chest.
"Samu, you never knew how to share.“ Atsumu grumbles and rests his hands on your hip
"Relax Y/N. We’re just dancing.“ He chuckles
Was it the alcohol? Or the lack of sleep? Or all the pictures your best friend showed you?
You have no idea
But things escalated quickly and you’re now dancing… unholy with both of the twins
You’re arms around Atsumu’s neck, his thigh between your legs, while Osamu’s hands are on your hips moving them against his
Thank god your parents left the room and your friends are too occupied with their boyfriends to notice
"How about we leave?“ Atsumu suddenly whispers dangerously low in your ear, "I still have to teach you how to ride, don’t I?“ He smirks down at you
"Don’t listen to him.“ Osamu says, “I’m a way better teacher.“ He says and his lips press against he sensitive skin behind your ear.
"Uhm.. I - no - we shouldn’t do this…“ you try to convince them, well more yourself if you’re honest
"If you truly don’t want this.“ Atsumu says and moves a few inches away from you, Osamu doing the same
"I - wait no!“ You exclaim, without even thinking about it
"What’s the magic word?“ Osamu says while walking around you stopping next to his brother
"P- Please..?“ You stutter, not truly sure if you’re actually dreaming all of this again
"Goodgirl.“ Atsumu smirks and pats your head.
"I’ll go and tell our parents that we’re driving you home.“ Osamu says and is about to leave when you hold onto his arm
"Wait!! Non of us can drive though!“ You remember
"… Atsumu and I both got a drivers license?“ He asks confused
"Yeah yeah I do too, but we can’t drive! We all drank too much.“ You mumble
To your surprise both of them laugh
"What?“ You look between the two of them
"Baby,…, non of us drank any alcohol.“ Atsumu says and Osamu continues his way outside, telling your parents that you’re too tired from the past week and they’ll make sure to get you home safely
"You… you didn’t?“ You ask shocked.
"No baby, after seeing you dace, we’re sure that you’ll be needing all of our attention later on.“ He smiles and leans down, "And you’ll get all of our attention.“ He whispers the last part and emphasises the all
You gulp and look at him with big eyes
What exactly have you gotten yourself into?
let me just tag you @kenmasgameboy so you know what trash I was talking about alsooo @saucysamu @shoyosun since Osamu is included
#haikyuu reactions#haikyuu headcanons#atsumu headcanons#atsumu x reader#atsumu hcs#osamu headcanons#osamu x reader#haikyuu x reader
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