Tumgik
#...meet so many people. we all had a lot of fun and put in a lot of time and work but it didn't feel like a burden to partake in it yk!
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alright. know what? with Secrets of the Obscure right around the corner and plenty of new Mists-related sky island settings coming with it, I'll just bite the bullet and interest-check a little something I've been turning in my head for a long, long while.
would YOU be interested in a Mists-based GW2 roleplay guild that uses a lore compliant multiverse system to allow canon, canon-adjacent, lore-breaking, and otherwise 'contradictory' muses to coexist in the same setting?
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simply put: every writer's cast would be set in their own self-contained universe. as such, everyone could bring whatever muses they want with their own personal headcanons, and no one could dictate what is or isn't canon for anyone else. so long as your muses are GW2-based, you're good to go! bring your Commanders, bring your canon-divergent OCs, bring your canon muses-- and yes, even the ones that are 'supposed' to be dead. who can say what might have happened in a strange world far across the Mists, after all?
neutral hubs and in-character safety guardrails would be in place to keep all muses on a relatively even playing field regardless of their power, history, and prestige, too. play hardball if you like, but it might not end quite the way you'd hope. the main rule would be to maintain good OOC etiquette at all times: no godmodding, no metagaming, no theft, don't blend IC and OOC, and so-on.
if that sounds like something you might have interest in, please interact with this post! and if you've got questions or concerns, I'd love to hear them; feel free to send an ask or a DM, or just reply to this post!
#GW2 roleplay#GW2 rp#GW2#my posts#so there's a LOT of reasons why I'm putting this forward#but the biggest is that I really want there to be a place that's actually inclusive for all the creativity that exists in this fandom#there was exactly one Mists multiverse event a while back and it was well-received from everything I saw!#i know i for one had a lot of fun AND felt a lot more welcome and comfortable than i have at any other event#and then... we proceeded to just never have another again.#like. we could have more of that. that niche could still use filling! we can do SO much more with this!!!#and especially with SotO coming out we could have some REALLY interesting locations to meet up too!#I'd be happy to kickstart this stuff but the thing is: it WILL need support. I just can't do it all alone and that's a fact#example: if we want a guild hall in-game we'd have to work together to get one; that'd be great for hosting public and private events#my personal goal is 5-10 participants so that we can have enough to run small events and mingle muses a bit#IF there's enough interest i'll roll out more information at that time. for now tho i'll just leave it at this to test the waters#reblogs are HIGHLY appreciate here: i'm a smallfry in a big sea and not many people check the tags. spread the word if you want to see this#on that note: thanks for reading and hopefully i'll hear from some of you soon. o/#(side detail: that sky pic is a screen i snapped at night in Istan. it's so pretty there ok)
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traitorsinsalem · 2 years
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goodness gracious mama mia
#succ speaks#fuck the bts team for not showing them divorce court btw.#i never thought i would see such a disappointing mianite-related stream. and i watched all of isles! [old man laugh track]#somehow this was the greatest video game event i have ever taken part in thanks to the awesome community (including the one ending in mc)#but this stream sucked absolute donkey dick. glad we can get back on the server and this wasn't the end of it.#not the streamers' fault though i think. the event was just nothing like promised. i'll be honest i was an isles apologist until now.#something something they worked so hard to make it happen and keep it running why the unnecessary hate....i can't lie to myself anymore man.#a lot of us thought the stream was going to be more lighthearted and not hardass objective build judge w/ half the plots taken out for time#like sure the prize was a good amount of money but tom and jordan were clearly trying to have fun but felt like they couldn't that much. idk#the absolutely brilliant times we had building and having fun and talking and helping each other on the server felt like they were erased...#...from this stream. EVEN THE END was super watered down and dec definitely did his best to give them the background of it all.#idk. madspy and dec were super cool i feel like some other factors and/or people behind this caused it to flop with the community.#the mods can only do so much 'your build was amazing and unique you should be proud of it' or whatever without showcasing the things...#...we were all talking and laughing and excited about while on the server. it feels like this wasn't an event that was meant to leave...#a certain circle. this is just my view but personally i would have enjoyed this way more if there WASN'T a streamed judging.#or that the judging was a couple of days long so they didn't have to rush through it and everyone could be seen.#i think the mods should take our gripes into consideration rather than trying to cheer us up or act like it's our problem.#but hey. [old man laugh track] thaaaaat's our good ol' mianite!#the event itself though was incredible and i'm really happy it happened. like the actual building part. i got a lot out of it and got to...#...meet so many people. we all had a lot of fun and put in a lot of time and work but it didn't feel like a burden to partake in it yk!#having dec and madspy and wh (i forget his name all the time) on a lot was really fun too! they were really kind and fun to be around...#...and we got to learn some cool little bits of bts info. finding out that dec was 16 when mianite started was INSANE especially.#and like i'm not just salty cuz my build wasn't featured. being able to make it in the first place was enough for me bc it was my first...#...serious build! and the other people on the server really enjoyed it and to me having the community appreciate it is so much more...#...heartwarming to me and makes me happier than if this would have been a 'private' thing and the streamers looked through every bit...#...and praised it. i loved being able to take part in this event but honestly i wish i wouldn't have watched the stream. it made me upset...#...to see so many INSANE builds and aspects of builds i got to watch people work on and help them with get mere crumbs of recognition.#i know tom in particular appreciates mianite fan content so splitting this up into multiple streams so they didn't get bored or tired or...#...have to rush would have been a pretty obvious solution. but again you can always count on the mianite bts team to make things...#...unnecessarily complicated or simple while ignoring the very clear best paths! [old man laugh track]
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sunnami · 2 months
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❝time will tell.❞
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[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
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HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!” 
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 
“That’s Sirius.” 
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 
You grimace. “Which cousin?” 
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 
You nod. 
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 
“Oh, Harry. . .” 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 
Were you? 
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 
Then, you find it. 
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 
It’s a space on that wall just for you. 
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.” 
That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 
You don’t look back. 
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 
“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 
“I know,” You say defeatedly. 
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 
“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well. 
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 
“I’m always right.” You pout. 
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 
How lucky you are. 
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?” 
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 
“Avada Kedavra!” 
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 
“No!” 
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 
“Expulso!” 
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 
“Accio wand!” 
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 
“Peter?” You call out. 
“Crucio!” 
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 
“Defodio!” 
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 
That just leaves one more problem. 
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 
You just wanted to rest now. 
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 
“Avada Kedavra.” 
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man. 
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 
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end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
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randomshyperson · 5 months
Text
Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08
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Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.
Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k
A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.
But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.
"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"
You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.
"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.
"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care? 
Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.
"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.
"Why did you bother coming back?"
Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."
Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."
But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.
"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."
Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.
"I didn't want to be rescued."
"I know."
She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"
You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."
The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.
Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"
You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.
The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you.  Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.
"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.
"I can't believe vampires exist." 
"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you. 
"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.
Perhaps your stories could distract her. 
"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.
Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."
You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."
The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"
"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."
Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"
"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."
Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"
You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities,  so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."
She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.
Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.
"Please ask next time."
She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"
You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."
But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.
Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."
Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.
"Are you going out?"
"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"
Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."
Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together." 
Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."
But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay. 
You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."
She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.
And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.
"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.
"You move silently."
"A talent we share."
Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.
"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"
You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."
She snorts softly." Y/N..."
But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."
"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."
She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately. 
"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you. 
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."
She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.
"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."
"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.
-&-
"I didn't know vampires cooked."
You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"
Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."
"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.
When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"
"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked. 
Please, please, notice me and talk to me.
The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.
"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."
Wanda frowns. "You were so young."
"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."
The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.
"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."
Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"
"Bit me?" You retort in confusion. 
She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."
It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."
She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"
You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."
She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.
"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."
Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.
"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.
You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."
"And why the hell does she have my face?"
"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."
"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.
You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children.  And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."
Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.
“Why did she turn you?”
You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire." 
Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."
She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."
You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."
Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture. 
"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."
You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."
Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.
You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.
"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."
You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.
"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."
"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"
"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."
"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"
"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."
"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."
Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."
Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."
The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.
-&-
"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."
"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."
Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century. 
Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.
Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.
It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.
The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.
She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.
That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.
"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone. 
"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."
The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.
But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.
Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.
But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.
She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.
Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.
Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.
She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.
"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."
You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.
"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"
"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"
The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.
"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.
"What? H-here? But..."
"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."
You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.
"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.
Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."
"I regret it very deeply, miss-"
"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."
Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.
"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.
Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.
But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.
For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.
-&-
Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.
The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.
A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.
You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.
"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety. 
Wolf scent.
"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again. 
"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."
You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"
"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."
You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.
"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."
The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.
Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.
He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.
"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.
Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.
"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.
"That's not a reason."
The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"
It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.
Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.
His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.
Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.
While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.
"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.
The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.
-&-
You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.
"Where are you going?"
But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."
For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.
She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.
"What the hell...?"
"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.
"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"
"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."
"Wanda, please, just move."
"No."
"Wanda."
She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch." 
You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?" 
But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."
Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.
"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse. 
"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."
You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.
It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger. 
"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.
Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."
It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.
Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.
Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.
You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.
"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."
"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."
Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.
"You're kind of a vampire nerd." 
"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.
"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”
She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."
Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.
"And how hungry are you now?"
"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.
"Well, I think you should have a little taste."
"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.
Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.
"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.
Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.
Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.
"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."
You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.
She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.
And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.
"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."
You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."
She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"
"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.
She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.
-&-
She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.
Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.
"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver. 
"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"
Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.
"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."
Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."
You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."
"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."
"I'm not."
"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.
"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."
She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."
You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers. 
Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.
"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago. 
"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief. 
She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so. 
This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.
And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.
Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone. 
You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.
This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.
"What are you up to, little witch?"
Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.
She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.
"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"
Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.
She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.
"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.
"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."
You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.
She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.
"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain. 
The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.
Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.
"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."
Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.
"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.
You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."
1K notes · View notes
bradshawsbaby · 17 days
Text
Like Peas in a Pod
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?
Word Count: 5.7k
Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!
Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.
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If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.
“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”
“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.
“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”
“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.
“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.
Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.
“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”
As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.
Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.
“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.
The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”
“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.
“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.
“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”
You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.
The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.
Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.
Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.
At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.
Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.
And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?
You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.
They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.
You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.
The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.
You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.
“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”
“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”
“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.
Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.
“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”
The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.
As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.
At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.
You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.
“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.
“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.
“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.
The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.
The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.
“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.
“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”
“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”
Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.
“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.
“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”
“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.
“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.
“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.
Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.
“Which one do you think is the cutest?”
“Do you see one you like?”
“Claim one now before we get over there!”
Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.
“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”
“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.
“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.
“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.
Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.
“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”
Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.
Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”
Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.
“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.
Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.
“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.
“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.
“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.
“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.
“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”
“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”
“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”
“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.
“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.
You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.
Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.
Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.
What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.
It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.
Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.
Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.
Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.
Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.
“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.
“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.
“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.
You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.
He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”
He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.
He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.
Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”
Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?
“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.
He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.
“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”
“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.
“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.
Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.
“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”
“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.
In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.
“I like it,” you told him with a smile.
“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.
The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.
“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”
You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”
“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”
“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.
“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.
You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.
As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”
“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.
Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”
“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”
“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.
“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.
“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.
“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.
“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.
“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.
“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.
“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.
“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.
“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.
You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.
“Why were you going to leave?”
You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”
“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”
Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”
You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.
“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.
Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.
“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”
“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.
“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.
“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”
He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”
“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”
He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.
The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.
It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.
The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.
“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”
“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.
“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.
“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.
“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.
“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.
“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.
“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.
“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”
Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”
“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.
Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.
“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.
“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.
“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.
“Hey, wait a second—”
“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.
Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.
“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.
“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”
Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”
And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.
695 notes · View notes
martian-astro · 26 days
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Solar Return Observations
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Having a sagittarius ascendant is a strong sign of starting college. (I had this the year I started my bachelor's and all of my friends had this as well the year they went to college. My sister had it when she started her bachelor's)
If you are not in an already well established relationship then don't have sex when neptune is in 8th.
The year in which you have a 1st house stellium and vertex in 7th will be when you meet a lot of people that are going to be important for self development. You will finally learn to put yourself before others. I personally think that it's a great combination to have. (you will meet both good and bad people)
You will study a lot when vertex is in 9th house. (my sister and her friends, in their last year of college, bachelor's, they ALL had this placement, it was so fascinating to see. They had to look for jobs after that, so they were putting in extra effort)
Jupiter in 11th in cancer is THE BEST, you will feel so loved by your friends, you guys are gonna have so much fun. (I loved my life that year)
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Uranus in 9th means unexpected but also SUDDEN travel. (the year that my sister went to Canada for her bachelor's, her session was starting on 7th September and her student visa got approved on 29th October, we had literally lost all hope. Everything was so chaotic)
Moon conjunct neptune indicates an emotionally heavy year. The house that it's in will tell the area where you'll be feeling sad. (I would like to put an example but it's too personal, and I don't wanna share)
Moon conjunct mercury in 4th house can be SOOOOO healing, especially if you do not have a good relationship with your parents. You will finally talk about your feelings with your parents. If the relationship is good then you will become even closer to them. (when I had this, I had so many discussions with my mom, and she told me so much about herself that I didn't know before, it really brought us closer)
Jupiter in 3rd house can help you become more social. As an introvert, this was the year when I finally started feeling more comfortable talking to strangers.
7th house stellium in pisces... Bro, I was OBSESSED with soulmate meditations during the year. If neptune is there as well, then forget about getting anything done, you will be too busy daydreaming about your Mr/Mrs right.
(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)
© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
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World Cup IV
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Sweden vs Australia
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After the match against Spain, Morsa has to play Australia to see if she can win you a medal. She says that she will and Morsa doesn't like to lie so you trust her.
You play around in the changing room with moster Frido as everyone gets ready and she lets you run around in the atrium before the tunnel for a bit too.
When the match is going on, Momma will come and collect you so you can have food and drink in the box but right now you get to stay with Morsa's teammates.
You step out of moster Frido's gaze when you first meet the other little girl. She's younger than you and she speaks English like Sam does. She gives you a little bracelet and says that she's your girlfriend now because her mummies are girlfriends.
That confuses you.
You don't spend a lot of time with other little girls your age and sometimes adults are easier to get on with.
So, you accept her gift and run off to hide behind moster Frido's legs.
"What's up with you, monster?" She laughs when she notices you poking your head out," Did you miss me that much?"
"I have a bracelet," You say softly and Frido has to crouch down to hear you.
"Really? Where'd you get that?"
You peer around her to look at the little girl who is now being held by someone in an Australia kit. You stay silent.
"Do you want me to help you put it on?"
You hold out your wrist and moster Frido puts it on the moment before the rest of the team comes out and Morsa collects you.
It's her last match of the World Cup and you walk out with her.
She presses a kiss to your head before surrendering you to Momma, who easily hoists you up over the barrier and lets you run wild around the box.
The match is very fun to watch and many times Momma has to remind you that leaning over the barrier is wrong and that you shouldn't do it in case you fall.
You heed her warning each time before completely disregarding it the moment you get vaguely interested again.
Moster Frido manages to score a penalty near the later stages of the first half and you jump up and down and celebrate like the rest of the team does.
Morsa goes down a few minutes later after hitting Sam's head with her chin. You immediately go running off to hide with Momma, unwilling to look as you wait to see what happens.
Morsa gets back up though and carries on playing and you feel you and Momma breathe out twin sighs of relief at the action.
The halftime whistle comes and Sweden is still one-nil up so you take a break from being excited to have a snack.
"What's this?" Momma asks, tapping the bracelet the girl from earlier gave you.
It makes you feel a little weird to look at and you don't fully answer the question. "Momma?" You say," Are you and Morsa girlfriends?"
"Hmm, I guess we are but I always call her my partner."
You think for a moment. "Because you and Morsa are girlfriends, does that mean that I get to have a girlfriend too?"
Pernille feels a little nervous at your line of questioning. You're toeing the line of a conversation that really ought to be had with both her and Magda present though, to be honest, it was coming a lot later than she thought it would.
She knew that you knew that having two mums is different to most other people. She knew one day you would have questions about it. She didn't really know why it was the topic on your mind when Magda was forty-five minutes away from winning you another World Cup medal.
"Well...not if you don't want to," Pernille says, erring on the side of caution," You can have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or no one at all."
"Hmm," You grunt, staring down at your bracelet," Okay. Thanks, Momma."
You don't offer up any explanations and bounce right back to your feet as the teams come back out.
Asllani nets Sweden their second and final goal and you celebrate like they've just won the World Cup.
You're a bit impatient as Morsa gets her medal, fidgeting until she comes bowling over and plucks you from the crowd. One hand supports your body against hers and the other slips her newly won medal around your neck.
It's shiny and a bit heavy and you press a kiss to her cheek in thanks.
"Where'd you get that bracelet, princesse?" She asks as you walk hand in hand over to moster Frido.
"My girlfriend gave it to me," You huff in annoyance.
Morsa freezes. "Your what?!"
"My girlfriend." You pull at it. "She gave it to me 'cause we're girlfriends. Is that how it works? Can I decide that anyone is my girlfriend? If I give Jessie a bracelet, can she be my girlfriend? I think I like Jessie more than my girlfriend."
Morsa's mouth opens and closes like a fish before she sighs deeply. "That's...not how it works. If you want a girlfriend, you have to ask them if they want to be your girlfriend. You don't just tell them."
You think that over for a moment as you come to a stop in front of moster Frido, who is caught up told about everything's that just happened by Morsa.
"So..." You say finally," If I ask Jessie and she says yes does that make her my girlfriend?"
Morsa looks like she's going to start crying or maybe screaming but moster Frido cuts her off.
"You're still little," She says," You don't need a girlfriend just yet."
You think about that for a moment. It makes sense. You don't really need a girlfriend right now. You still have football to think about and you know sometimes Morsa gets distracted by Momma while playing football and they're girlfriends so it's probably best that you go without one until you're the very best.
"Okay," You say," I won't ask Jessie to be my girlfriend."
525 notes · View notes
ferrstappen · 11 months
Text
unscheduled school visit l Max Verstappen
a/n: hello! i got this quick idea while working on some requests/school work. hope you like it and pls pls feel free to leave feedback <3 it really motivates me <3
pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader.
summary: the twins' teacher calls, the twins got in trouble. Max is in disbelief.
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Max was a strict parent. 
Not in the way people may think, and not in the least similar to how his dad was with him, but Max always was concerned on how the twins were doing in school, only in first grade, but still. He was always working on instilling discipline and hard work to Luca and Mila, so in the future they can be whatever the hell they want to be. Max knew money was never going to be an issue, so it was up to them to take all the opportunities that meant.
He always tried to take them to museums when they joined races, often tried to switch languages, even encouraging other drivers and people in the grid who interacted with the kids to speak in their different languages. 
It was always fun to watch Charles speaking to Luca in French or Italian as Luca slowly tried to come up with an answer and was always met with a high five, or Mila asking Checo why Carlos had a different accent. 
The smile never disappeared from your face when you get home from running an errand or attending a meeting that couldn’t be held on Zoom, to Luca and Mila chatting about what they learned on school today or silently doing their homework on the family room while Max watched them, himself also getting some things in the meantime.
The point is the twins were smart, both you and Max putting all your efforts to gently and effectively find what they like, what they don’t. 
You know your kids. Both of you would put your hands on fire because of them. You trusted them because Max and you were raising them good and the twins were great beyond words could explain. 
So when you receive a call from school telling you to come over, you quickly reached Max who was on the sim, driving through Imola with his eyes closed. 
“Babe, school called and we have to go,” As soon as you announced the news Max turned around, seat and steering wheel lightly shaking. 
“What do you mean? What happened?” Max was instantly on his feet.
“I don’t know, Max. Their teacher called,” You told your husband as his eyes opened widely. 
“Their? Is it both of them?” Max was in complete disbelief of what he was hearing.
“It appears so. I’ll cancel a meeting and we go.”
You didn’t leave him alone for thirty seconds, you swear, but when you came back Max was on the phone, asking the teacher to put Mila on the phone. 
He knew his daughter too well. She was outspoken, assertive, didn’t think twice. Luca was more cautious, wise and maybe a little timid. 
“Pap, he was trying to pull Luca’s hair and stealing his crayons, and Luca was letting him because he didn’t want to cause any trouble!” an agitated Mila informed Max, speaking a broken dutch. 
“Are you okay?” Max calmly asked his frantic daughter. He knew she was disquieted, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was. 
“Yes,” she said in dutch, but in the back her teacher told her in a sweet voice to speak in a language they could all understand. 
“Okay baby girl, mama and I are on our way, see you in a bit,”
During the drive to La Condamine to reach the International School of Monaco, you discovered a side of your husband you had yet to see. It was fun. 
“She is not apologizing!” Max told you, eyes not leaving the narrow road.
“Max, she pulled the kid’s hair,” You reminded your husband, who softly shook his head in disagreement. 
“Yes, because the idiot kid was bothering Luca and pulled his hair! If anything that kid should be apologizing to Luca, his sister just defended him!” His lisp was more prominent as you reached the parking lot overlooking the several yachts.
Max noticed the other child’s parents already walking inside the school, there weren’t many students in the Early Years building. He pressed the gas harder than necessary, making the engine of the family Aston Martin roar like they were in the paddock. 
Your eyes rolled at his antics, but still it made your insides feel giddy at the thought of your husband being protective and loving. 
Luca’s arms were wrapped around you as soon as you walked inside. Kneeling to reach his height, your heart broke at the sight of his disheveled hair and wet cheeks, his beautiful eyes red. Luca tried to not sniff and stop the tears, trying to be brave when he felt your hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead, asking if he was okay. 
At the same time, Max sat next to Mila whose eyes didn’t leave the other kid’s sight, whom you learned his name was Oliver. Max knew his daughter wanted to shed a tear, but didn’t let it show, so he just gave her a reassuring look before listening to the teacher who had the three of them in charge.
Curtly shaking hands with Oliver’s parents, Max politely ignoring the poor attempt of one of “the idiot kid’s” dad to start a conversation, obviously starstruck by your husband the World Champion. 
Yes, it was Monaco and everyone knew each other, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce the two Verstappen named kids on the class were the children of the Max Verstappen, but he was often away and it was mostly you who attended parent-related stuff, but now there was the chance to have a conversation directly with him. 
Oh well. 
The four got inside the car, Max adjusting the seats before getting in the driver seat. Mila and Luca loudly sighed, knowing what followed.
“I don’t know how to address this. I’m moved and proud that you look out and defend each other, but M, baby, pulling someone else’s hair is not the way,” you softly told your daughter. “and Luca, honey, I know it’s hard but when someone invades your space and is rude, but you can tell the teacher before it makes you feel bad and leads to this,” 
Max’s eyes followed the twins movements through the rearview mirror as you talked to them, soon reaching your home. You grabbed the backpacks and Max helped the twins get out of the car.
He reached Luca’s door first. When he was out, he left a kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair, softly reminding his carbon copy that he was a little lion, still with lots to learn, but no one ever could make him feel like this. 
Then he reached Mila’s door. Her eyes now were a bit glossy, but he knew she was just like him, Mila would never show weakness. He reminded her that she can take some weight off, let her guard down with her parents before kissing her hair. 
You watched the scene unfold from afar, not knowing what he told them, but sure they were the right words.
Then giggles reached your ears, eyes immediately rolling. 
He was fist bumping Mila, giving her a nod of approval.
For God’s sake, this wouldn’t be the first time you’re called to school, that’s for sure.
3K notes · View notes
thelovelyruin · 5 months
Text
𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖓.
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you weren’t a car girl, but that changed when you met the driver.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.2K
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from siren by alicia drayton.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! one of my favorite songs; hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!
18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT
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Full moon sitting in the darkest night.
“So, sounds fun, right?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure.”
You kinda just agreed to whatever Mai said, busy doing your makeup and humming to the music playing from your speaker. But it wasn’t until a few hours later that you realized what you’d agreed to. You both were sitting outside now, waiting for Yuuji to pick you up, but he was ten minutes late. When he did pull up, he parked fast, seeing Mai’s already irritated expression. Hesitantly, he walked over to where you both stood. 
“Heyyyyy…”
Mai pushed past him, brushing off his attempt at a hug.
“Save it, bitch.”
Yuuji ran before her, opening the door, which she thanked him for in the form of a sneer. He looked at you next, hoping for a more positive reaction as he guided you to the backseat.
“Are you mad at me too?”
“If I were, it would be in good reason. You’re late.”
He closed the door behind you and scrambled to the driver’s seat, promptly turning on the car and attempting to show he was in a rush.
“Look, I’m sorry, I ended up-”
“Just drive, Yuuji!”
Mai wasn’t giving him a break; not like he deserved one. He huffed and put the car in drive, taking off. You guys were going to a car meet; Yuuji was excited to show off the car he’d just finished modding, a WRX or something like that. To be honest, you didn’t know too much about cars, except what Yuuji would tell you, but that would involve you paying attention. Nonetheless, you wanted to be a supportive friend, so here you were.
Feel a breeze, smoking trees, cloudy in the ride.
Yuuji pulled up to a lot full of cars, parking in an empty spot towards the middle of the row. You noticed some cars in an intersection next to the lot, driving in circles as people hung out the windows. You weren’t gonna lie; it looked a little fun, dangerous, but fun. Yuuji got out, opening each of your doors.
“So, I’ll probably stay here if anyone asks questions about my ride, but feel free to check things out!”
“You brought us here so we could frolic around? Yuuji, you’ve gotta be shittin’ me right now.”
“Now, don’t say it like that. It makes me sound like an asshole.”
The both of you looked at him with a deadpan expression, but then he gave those puppy dog eyes, causing Mai to rub down her face.
“Fine, but you owe us big time. Let’s go see what they're doing in the circle over there.”
With that, you and Mai walked off. Yuuji told you to stay safe, but Mai’s reply was a middle finger. The air was smoky and smelled like burnt rubber, but you guys still pushed through the crowd to see the action. Cars were drifting in a circle now, another car coming in the rotation, probably the most dangerous thing you’ve ever seen.
Two of the cars drifting had pulled off to the side, and from what you could tell, the drivers were arguing. A couple of guys tried to break it up, but one flipped the other guy off as they both hopped in the driver's seat.
Narrow roads, so many caution signs.
“Shit, they’re about to race!”
You hadn’t even heard Yuuji walk up behind you guys, Mai looking back at him with a smirk.
“So, why aren’t you with your “ride”? No takers?”
Yuuji huffed, making her laugh triumphantly. The circle began to shift, noticing a gap opening as the two cars revved, one all white and the other blue with a black stripe across the side. You found the white one more tasteful, pointing at it and looking back at Yuuji.
“Oh, that one? An Audi S5. Other one’s a Scat.”
You nodded like you knew what he meant and looked back as some shirtless guy got between the cars, throwing it down. Instantly, both cars take off, the white one gapping the blue one by a long shot.
“I don’t know why he even bothered. The launch on the S5 is insane.”
As the cars finished, people began cheering; even Mai was clapping and nodding. They drove back to the lot where the cars were lined up. The Scat driver handed the S5 driver a wad of cash, returned to his car, and drove off.
“Damn, sore loser. Anyway, I wanna meet the guy who drove the S5. Y’all sit tight, okay?”
Before Mai could even curse him out, Yuuji had run off. You two scoffed and sat on the hood of his car.
“So, you upgraded the intercooler? I did the same to mine, it’s a W-”
“Welcome back, fucker. You brought a friend?”
Yuuji had returned to the car with a guy, and damn he was hot. You were too busy staring at his abs pressed against that black tee he was wearing or the outline of something that surely wasn’t his wallet in his sweats to stop Mai from chewing Yuuji out.
“This is Choso; he’s driving the S5.”
Shotgun sippin’; rollin' with the tide.
Choso looked at you and licked his lips, sending something down to your-
“Nice to meet you, really nice to meet you.”
You were blushing like crazy. Was he flirting with you? You were too enthralled to notice Yuuji and Mai going back and forth in the background.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“So, you guys stayin' around for shots? I’d hate to see you go so early.”
Oh, he was definitely flirting with you.
“Depends. Want me to stay?
“If that’s fine with you, princess.”
“What we drinkin’?”
“Your choice.”
“Hm, whatever your drinkin’.”
He looked up and down at you, smirking a bit.
“I’ve got something in mind.”
“Is that so?”
“UM HELLO!”
You both turned to look at Mai, who had a surprised look on her face as Yuuji stood there in shock. Choso cleared his throat and gave an awkward smile to Mai.
“That is if you want to stay too, Mai.”
“Well, depends. What do you wanna drink, other than my best friend?”
You choked on your spit as your body jolted at Mai’s question. Yuuji began to laugh uncontrollably, walking up to Choso and slapping him on the back.
“Don’t worry, I got tequila in the trunk.”
“Oh shit, what kind?”
“Terramana, of course.”
“My man. I gotta bottle, too; I’ll go grab it.”
With that, Choso and Yuuji split. Mai gave you that look.
“Didn’t know you liked car guys.”
“I do now.”
You both laughed as she wrapped her arm around you, bringing you in for a hug. Shortly, Choso and Yuuji were back.
“Let’s get lit, fuckers.”
Want you to love me like you do that S5.
You knew Yuuji and Choso had at least three shots, but right now, they both were going on about the mods they did on their cars. You had found yourselves back in the circle of people drifting.
“Looks fun, huh?”
“Yeah, a fun death trap.”
“Nonsense, people do it all the time.”
Choso looked over at Yuuji, both of them with the expression that they were up to something.
Oh my, Ima give you the ride of your life.
You found yourself in Choso’s passenger seat, staring at Mai in Yuuji’s across the circle. You can’t believe you got dragged into this; what the fuck were you-
Choso’s hand found its way to your thigh, rubbing the skin there as he looked at you with a smirk.
“Nervous? Don’t worry, princess. I got you.”
It took everything in you not to jump on him then and there. Those pet names were dangerous; every time he called you princess, it sent signals down below, practically screaming at you to relieve it. You hadn’t even realized his hand had moved to the gear shift, veins in his hand flexing as he revved the engine. Then, you were taking off.
You swear you just died. The whole time, you could hear the rubber screeching smoke lifting off the tires as Choso and Yuuji spun against each other. Halfway through, you saw Mai climb through the window; you did the same, and man, was it fun. Both of them parked and spilled out of the car, laughing and giving each other a high five, panting with adrenaline. You walked over to Mai, who looked like she was 10 seconds away from barfing.
“You good, girl?”
“I think I might’ve pissed myself.”
The boys walked back over, calmed down as the high wore off. Choso wrapped his arm around your waist, and boy, was that physically effective. Yuuji patted Mai’s back, giving him an annoyed look as she sat up straight. He smiled at her with open eyes, signaling something to her. She caught on fast because then she said:
“Yuuji’s gonna drive me home; Choso lives on the same side of town as you, so he’ll be takin’ you home. That okay?”
Oh, they were on some shit. But obviously, the two of you were, too.
“Yeah, that’s fine with me. Choso?”
“Sounds good, princess.”
I swear, I would die for you.
You waved bye to Mai as Yuuji helped her into the car, giving you a wink as Yuuji drove off. Choso guided you back to his car, opening the passenger door. Once you got in, you had a good look around, too nervous to check things out the first time you got in it. Damn, this was nice. He had red leather seats and ambient red lighting around the car. Shit, how much did this car cost? Choso got in the car and put his foot down on the pedal, starting the car as he adjusted the air conditioning.
“You cold?”
“Just a little.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.”
Oh, you were warm, alright. It’s like every word he spoke had a sexual undertone because here you were, getting wet over a question about the AC. He reached over and turned on the heated seat for you, smirking as he pressed the button. He placed his hand back on your thigh, rubbing back and forth; all you could focus on was how close he was to touching your pussy. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes, causing you to squirm your legs. It hadn’t gone unnoticed him smiling as he bit his lip.
“Ready?”
Ready for what? At that point, you gave up the idea of celibacy for the night, like you had any intentions to not fuck him in the first place. Now, you knew this wasn’t a good idea. The both of you were tipsy, and it was probably reckless to have him drive. But then again, he had just drifted the car thirty minutes ago, so he’d be fine, right?
“Yeah, let’s go.”
You know I'd risk my life for you.
We fit so perfectly, in need of your affection.
The ride back to your house was pretty fast, considering Choso ran every red light and was going 20 over the speed limit. You had half a mind to hold the handlebars on the car's roof, but you weren't doing anything with Choso's hand rubbing you through your shorts. Your body began to react to it, closing your legs a bit, but it was all in vain when he brought your thigh towards him, opening your legs wider. 
“Don’t go runnin’ from me, princess. Promise, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
You held everything in, taking the depths of your resolve to stop you from shamelessly asking him to fuck you in the car. He was definitely holding it in, too, a tent peeking out of those gray sweats, and fuck, you could tell, he had a big-
“We’re here, sweetheart.”
You sigh in relief as you realize you were in your apartment’s parking lot. He came around to open your door, those hungry eyes gazing at you as you climbed out of the seat. As soon as you were out of the car, Choso had you pinned against it, claiming your mouth as his as he grabbed your waist. Those eyes might have been hungry, but his mouth was greedy. He had moved onto your neck, sucking the skin there. Fuck, you were still outside, and you were sure he’d fuck you right here if you let him. You grabbed his hand and dragged him behind you to your apartment.
“Let’s go.”
I think I want more.
You couldn’t open that damn door fast enough. As soon as you turned around to lock it, Choso was behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass as he ground it against his painfully hard dick. He flipped you towards him, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
“Which room?”
“Furthest back.”
Oh, yeah, I need more of your intensity.
Choso damn near threw you on the bed, taking his shirt off as fast as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to check out his abs; he was already on you, bringing your shirt up and sucking the skin on your chest as he pulled it over your head. You watched as he unbuckled your shorts, swiftly pulling them and your panties down. The only thing left was your bra, which was not of concern right now, considering he had pulled it down so your tits could spill out. He groaned as he brought his mouth down to your nipple, bringing his fingers up to pump in and out of your pussy. Now, he was usually a bit more gentle than this; take it real slow and careful. But you two had been edging each other all night, and he needed to taste you. Now.
Love when you speed; no need to speak. 
The first swipe of his tongue nearly had you crashing, having been teased for twenty minutes in the car. It wasn’t until he slipped his tongue in you that you had to pull your strength together to not cum so fast.
“Cum for me, princess. Stop holding back.”
God, his voice was too much. So much, you came on his face, just like he asked you to. He groaned as he slurped up your juices, face completely covered in your essence, but he honestly did not give a single fuck. He was a man in heaven. He grabbed both your thighs and pinned your body down, eating you out for a second round, craving how your body jerked when he made you cum. This time, you didn’t have the will to hold out. Still recovering from the first orgasm, the second wasn’t far behind. You groaned his name in defeat, knowing you were about to cum again.
“Choso…”
“Mhm, baby. Give it to me.”
In seconds, your body was moving out of your control again, gripping his hair and pinning his face to your pussy. As you came down, you ground your hips against his face, making him chuckle.
“Fuck, I need you, princess.”
I know you want more…
Choso couldn’t get his pants off fast enough. His dick was about to jump out his boxers; if he got any harder, it probably would’ve ripped through them. Positioning himself over top of you, he kissed you and brought his finger up to put your wetness on his shaft.
“Ready for me?”
You gave him a nod, gripping his shoulders as he slid inside you. Once he was all the way in, he brought his lips down to your neck, experimentally pulling his hips back and forth slowly, making sure you had adjusted to his size. Fortunately for him, teasing for hours and two orgasms later, you took him instantly. Damn, he was big. You moaned loudly at the feeling of him stretching you out, arching your back off the bed as he fucked you steadily. His face was inches away from yours, every couple of thrusts coming down to kiss you, throwing his head back to get his hair out of his face, damp with sweat from how good he was fucking you. And you were sure to let him know just how good he was giving it to you, moaning his name out like a damn siren, pulling him into your pussy as he picked up the pace.
…Ima give you more.
Fast, deep, slow, he didn’t care. He was gonna give it to you however you needed wanted it. He didn’t expect you to want to ride him, though, climbing over him and sinking down on his dick; boy wasn’t that a sight to see. He was losing his mind; you fucked him at a fast pace, tits jumping every time you brought your pussy back down to his hips. Fuck, you were perfect. You were doing magic on him, had to be; he swears he’s never had pussy this good. At this point, he needed to see you crumble again, so he took some initiative and grabbed your hips, fucking his dick into you rapidly.
“Choso, oh my god!”
“You like that princess?”
You were too fucked out to answer. Every thrust made you dizzy, putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. Then there was that goddamn look on his face. His eyes were on you like a wild animal, groaning as you slid up and down his shaft. You wanted to see how much of a reaction you could get out of him, rolling your hips as his eyes rolled back. He was gonna cum soon, but he needed you to cum first.
Want you to love me like you do that S5, oh my.
He’s back on top, bringing your thighs up to his chest, getting as deep as possible. You were a blabbering mess at this point, and all he could do was smile as you tried to grab at the sheets, pussy about to give in at any second. With a quick dive, his lips came up to yours, his thumb reaching up to rub your clit. Every moan you gave went into his mouth, tongue exploring it as you came undone on his dick. And it felt fucking amazing. Your pussy clenched down on him, driving him crazy, your body squirming as you came hard from your third orgasm of the night.
Are you ready for the ride of your life?
He was done for. The feeling of your pussy tightening on him was too much, your moans of his name sounding like music to his ears. He didn’t even care anymore. Shamelessly, he moaned your name and whimpered into your neck as he came. God, it was like a fucking firecracker, his body feeling things it hadn't felt before. He had only fucked you this once, but fuck, he was addicted. He fell to your side, panting for a bit before getting up.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
I swear I would die for you.
He returned with a wet washcloth, cleaning the cum from your pussy and stomach, chuckling when you whimpered from the overstimulation of him cleaning around your clit. When he was done, he came and laid beside you, bringing you into his arms. You felt his head rest on yours, kissing your forehead lightly. Then, you realized that he would have to drive-
“Can I stay the night?”
“Hm, maybe. What do I get in return?”
“If you’re good, another round when we wake up.”
“I guess that’s better than you driving home drunk.”
“You mean “us.” I’m sleeping with you either way.”
You know I'd risk my life for you.
♱ the song used in this story is siren by alicia drayton.🖤 
(edit: i now know about cars😭)
♱ masterlist.
♱ all fics playlist.
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𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.
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632 notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 6 months
Text
Not Exactly Cinderella Part 1
WC: 1350
CW: mildy raunchy talk
Dick/Danny/Wally
Wally still didn’t really get why Dick hated galas so much. The outfits were a little stuffy, but Dick always looked amazing in them and these days he found ways to have fun with the looks. The people could be stuck up, sure, but there were always lots of Waynes and other supes to talk to. And the galas could drag on a little, but Dick was amazing at finding dark corners to duck into and make out in.
The worst part, really, was the photos going in. That was mostly because Wally felt so utterly inadequate standing next to Dick, but he doubted Dick had any issue with that part. Still, every time that Dick begged Wally to come along with him to one, he acted as if he was going to his execution. For a guy who fought crime and had literately been at his own attempted executions before, it felt a little extreme.
“You know, we could still have the driver turn around,” Dick suggested hopefully.
“Put those baby blues away because we really, really cannot,” Wally said, but he softened his words by reaching out to twist their fingers together. “You have to be at this one, babe. Part of what they’re trying to raise funds for is your idea.”
Dick groaned and let his head fall back against the the black leather seat. It made Wally want to lean over and kiss along that length of neck as beautifully highlighted by the passing neon lights as it was, but he managed to resist. Dick really shouldn’t be marked up before photos.
(Which was a shame.)
“Hey, I’m with you at least?” Wally offered. He knew it was paltry compensation, but it was at least something.
“You are. Thanks for coming,” Dick said. He lifted their hands to press a kiss to the back of Wally’s hand. “I know—”
“Hey, I’ve said it lots before. I don’t mind coming to the galas with you at all. Where else am I going to get to eat so many tiny foods?”
“Tiny food is overrated.”
“It’s the best.”
“Speedsters,” Dick said, rolling his eyes.
Wally elbowed Dick for saying ‘speedsters’, even if the driver wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them right then. Dick, of course, was completely unrepentant and just stole a quick kiss instead as the car rolled to a stop.
Dick took a deep breath. “Okay, time to look pretty, Wally.”
Wally’s ‘easy for you to say’ was lost to the sounds of flashing cameras and shouted questions as the door opened and Dick stepped out. Wally tamped down the urge to fidget and took Dick’s hand, joining him in the lights and noise.
-
For the most part, Wally was glad that he wasn’t expected to contribute to the conversations as they made their rounds at the gala. He got the basic ‘how are you’ or ‘so what is it you do’, but really no one wanted to know, not unless he ran into other scientists. Wally knew he could be a bit… much to talk to, so he let Dick lead for all the important conversation. Wally figured he could slip off to talk to the other nerds later, if they were around, but he’d stick by Dick for the first part at least. This obligation would probably wind down soon, even those coming in fashionably late had arrived by now.
Wally scanned the crowd as they headed up to the second floor to make sure they had caught everyone they needed to. Ah, there were some people he recognized from WE Research, as well as some new faces. They looked like they were having a good time. The group laughed and one of the people Wally didn’t know, turned with the act and looked over the crowd too. For just a moment his eyes and Wally’s caught.
His smile was brilliant.
Suddenly Wally found himself tipping forward, toe caught on the step. Only Dick’s quick reaction time saved Wally’s face from meeting the marble.
“Shit, Wally, you okay?” Dick asked, clutching Wally tightly to him.
Wally buried his blushing red face into Dick’s shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Dick said, drawing the word out. He guided Wally upstairs and into one of those dark corners, not taking his bracing hand off Wally’s back. Voice quiet, he asked, “Is it something from the… work issue earlier today?”
“No,” Wally said, but his word was muffled by the his hands pressed over his warm face. “I didn’t get hurt.”
“Okay,” Dick said again.
“Stop saying okay. It’s nothing. I’m just being… ugh.”
“Walls, sweetheart,” Dick pried Wally’s hands away from his face, holding them gently, “you’re worrying me a little here.”
Wally sighed. “I tripped because a cute guy smiled in my direction, alright?”
“What?” Dick asked. He covered his laughter with their clasped hands.
“I tripped because I’m an idiot and got flustered when a cute guy smiled my way.”
Dick pouted, still snickering. “You’ve never tripped up because of my smile.”
Wally just stared at Dick.
“What?”
He couldn’t believe it. “Do you really not know how many walls I ran into because of your smile, Dick?”
“No.” Dick was grinning now, bright and wonderful. “Give me a number here. Ten? Twenty?”
“So many, Dick, so many. So no getting jealous, you’re still way in the lead.”
Dick sobered instantly. He reached out and caught Wally’s wrist again, running his fingers along that too fast Speedster’s pulse. “Hey, no, you think I’m being jealous?”
Wally just shrugged. He did and he didn’t. He really didn’t know what to think. He didn’t think Dick was the jealous type, but it hadn’t exactly been put to the test. When this thing between them had turned from fooling around into something more they had agreed on an open relationship and worked out the details. And Wally would talk about someone being hot, sure, but they were always someone unobtainable. It’s Dick who had actually gone out and dated, or at least slept with, other people.
“Oh sweetheart, no,” Dick murmured, closing the distance between them to nothing. “I was just teasing. I think it’s adorable that his smile made you stumble— and at a ball too! That’s some real fairy tale stuff right there.”
“Okay, but fairy tales usually ended pretty horrifically,” Wally pointed out, though he could feel his own smile tugging at his lips.
Dick rolled his eyes. “Alright, a Disney style fairy tale then.”
Wally’s nose wrinkled. “Too wholesome.”
“Picky, picky, picky. An adult film knock off of a Disney story?”
“Dick!” Wally laughed and gave the other a little shove. The bastard didn’t even budge.
“Sorry,” Dick said without sounding sorry at all. “Come on, let’s go talk to him.”
“What?!” Wally squawked. “No! Dick, no, why?”
“Because you thought he was cute. It can’t hurt.”
“Yes it can! He’ll talk to me and…”
“Walls?”
Wally looked down at their feet, scuffing his banged up toe around. “He’ll, I don’t know, get bored of me? Or at least it won’t go anywhere.”
Dick ducked down so he could see Wally’s eyes. “Hey, no, sweetheart, why do you think that? You’re a catch.”
“I’m pretty sure only you think that,” Wally said.
“Lies,” Dick said, giving Wally a peck. “I’ll prove it. Come on, let me be your ‘wing man.”
Wally snorted at that.
“You know I’m a great ‘wing.”
“You are,” Wally said, unable to help the fond smile.
“Then come on. I know all your virtues, including how good you are at blow jobs. Let me extol them.”
“Dick! You are not telling a stranger I’m good at blow jobs!” Wally hissed.
“But you are.”
“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”
Dick backed up, tugging Wally out of the nook. “We’ll do a quick pass up here and then go find him. See if we can’t get you lucky.”
“I was supposed to get lucky with you tonight,” Wally reminded him.
Dick just shrugged, still smiling. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll still be around after you have some fun.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
--
AN: So I didn't really have anything else that fit Tooth-Rotting Tuesday in my current wips (not where they were at least) and somehow this got in my brain soooo.... hopefully you enjoyed it?
I love how gung-ho Dick is about getting his boyfriend laid. His plan is to get them started flirting and then just slip away. But will he be able to pull that off?
Sorry for any mistakes. A pressure migraine on top of my other migraine rolled in with the front yesterday so I am KOed.
Stay delightful darlings!
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too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...
AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?
Hear me out:
The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.
Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.
Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.
I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.
It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.
Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:
Grandpa's.
Fuckin'.
Cheesebarn.
Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.
Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.
But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"
All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.
Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.
All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.
Then C drops off the face of the earth.
She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.
Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"
And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."
lolwut
And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"
And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".
No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???
What are these acronyms?
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thepersonnamedsam · 10 months
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headcanons of the genz!driver
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pairing: the genz!driver
summary: some cute and chaotic headcanons of the genz!driver
warnings: none :)
note: we love ourselves a chaotic queen
masterlist / taglist
we all know that a 18/19 year old will cause chaos on the grid, much more even if she is allowed to be there and not get evicted
like there was this one time, where she snook into the drivers conference, she was late, as usual, and instead of being silent and unnoticed, she let the door fall shut loudly and announced her great entry with: „welcome my fellow drivers, the best one has arrived and will grace your presence from now on. please, do not stop the meeting on my behalf, i am just here to look pretty.“
or there was a time when the FIA announced that no bikes on the track were allowed anymore and what do you think, at the next race, she arrived with her super fancy bike, blasting bicycle from queen singing the lyrics and riding her bike around the track, obviously
we love ourselves a confident queen
and she is so relatable
like, she posts vlogs on youtube of her life, stuff with a day at the paddock or a day outside the paddock and look, even though she is famous, her life is so relatable
she can’t drive, (seb learned it with her though), she struggles with her hair, almost every day, doing normal stuff is really hard because of mental health problems, her anxiety sparks in situations she doesn’t know, her jokes are weird and dark and almost no one understands them. it’s like she is almost a normal teenager
young fans, female ones especially, look up to her so much, just because she is honest, shares her struggles and is so supportive about it. depression and anxiety are valid and is not something to hide, it’s okay to struggle and she talks so openly about it. fans absolutely adore her and because of her, some find inspiration to do stuff they wouldn’t have done normally
so many young girls started karting because of her, she believes in everyone of them and is sure that they can make it big
lewis and seb are so proud of her, seeing her inspire so many people, makes them feel so so proud. seb has seen her grow up and has helped all the way from karting to formula 1
we all know that seb is the worrying one and always urges her to be careful. but lewis, oh lewis does stuff with her, that if seb actually knew what it was, he would die of a heart attack
he took her to go skydiving once, having her swear not to tell seb or lando, because he would so tell everyone else and seb would instantly know
or the one time let her have a drink with him when she was still underage, psst don’t tell seb
lewis is the cool grid dad, that lets her do stuff that she shouldn’t, always supervised though
because if you let her unsupervised, she is pure chaos
the one time her and lando got left alone, they had to get rescued by george
lando‘s car broke down
and not broke down like it just stopped working
no, his fiat jolly fell down, it laid on its side, on her side to be specific. lando and you were doing stupid stuff, putting all the weight on one side to see how much it would take to overthrow the car
it didn’t take much…
when seb found out, he didn’t let her out if his sight, always making sure she wasn’t doing something stupid that could get her injured
when seb retired, she cried like a baby. she was not sure what to do without him on the paddock, who would make sure she wouldn’t die? who made sure she was drinking enough and eating probably (it was a bit dramatic, because her personal trainer was doing that aspect of her life and not seb).
but still, she would miss seb, she would miss him a lot
that’s where danny comes, seeing her so lost and struggling, he kind of swept into her life as an older grid brother
helping her with stuff and being protective
he was not as great as seb or lewis, who is still the fun grid dad, but danny did his best
she is so happy to have all those people around her
and she is forever grateful and tries to let them know how grateful she is, but sometimes it backfires a bit
like the time she tried to gift all of them something for christmas
oh that was chaos
what do you gift 19 drivers, all at least 4 years older than her, something for christmas that is personal for them and her?
lance got alcohol, he was happy about it
she got lando some socks, he wasn’t sure why
alex got hair dye, made sense
she gifted max a stuffed lion, which he was actually happy about
but george got a shirt with a naked torso on it… she found it hilarious, he not so much
charles got a ‚sorry that your team is shit‘ bracelet
carlos got a chilli tree and a hard copy of smooth operator
zhou got a book of all of lewis‘ paddock looks
lewis got a whole gift basket with vegan stuff and toys for roscoe and a day with her
and many other weird gifts, but it shows that she is so grateful of all the people around her
we know that she always gives her best and that’s the most she can do
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23
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meanbossart · 4 months
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do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.
BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.
Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao
And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"
And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.
(this got very long so, more under the cut)
Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.
In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.
Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.
And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.
That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.
That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.
I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.
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yamujiburo · 3 months
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(Bad Brazilian English ahead) I was looking at your hanamusa stuff and your fankids stuff and I've got a feeling that hanamusa Jessie is sweeter than the fankids Jessie, not that Jule's mom doesn't show affection, but it feels like Delia has been missing affection for longer when Jessie starting dating her than James had been missing when he got with her, making Jessie develop to fit in the needs of Delia so both would be happy, while Jessie have found in James someone who wasn't expecting to be carried again since his mama and also a little bit of sass in the start.
Oh yeah! I'd say that my Hanamusa!Jessie is sweeter and softer than my Rocketshipping!Jessie. I think it's fun to explore how different people have different effects on a person and how they take on different roles depending on who they're with
Rocketshipping!Jessie is not too different from how she's portrayed in canon because I feel like we already kind of see the effect James has on her. Jessie was very cold and standoffish before meeting James and being around him and Meowth lightened her up in a way where she's comfortable being silly and more open with them. But! She is their leader and I see her having a more dominant role in her relationship with James. He's a passive guy who needs someone to give him a little direction and Jessie needs him to ground her. In my fankid AU they're pressed for money with kids on the way so she girlbosses her way into a career in fashion which takes a lot of assertion. I also think that given James' past with marriage and relationships, he's a little offput by the idea of romance for himself, though he puts up an amazing front, and his relationship with Jessie is like a heightened friendship/partnership and a life bond (but he'll turn on the romance just for jessie every once in a while since she's a massive romantic). All this to say, I don't think they change too much from how they act together in the anime once they pursue a relationship, leaving Jessie the same fiery, kinda bossy type she is.
Hanamusa!Jessie lightens up post-meeting James and Mewoth softens up EVEN MORE having met Delia, someone who is quite soft and nurturing by nature. She would have more to prove to Delia than she would James, seeing how she and Delia weren't partners in crime for how ever many years. It's not that James doesn't make Jessie want to be better but Jessie wants to and kinda HAS TO be better in order for Delia to fully trust her initially. Delia's got a son that means the world to her after all, and Jessie being his nemesis wasn't the best start. Delia being very generous and caring also makes it so Jessie can take more time to work towards her own career and she gets to live a comfortable, domestic life that really settles her down. She also goes into a nursing career which takes her back to being a more gentle person (like how she was in Chansey nursing school when she was younger). Jessie still has her edge but has more reason to soften up in this AU!
Anyways, this was a lot more than I thought I was gonna write. I love Rocketshipping and I love Hanamusashipping and I love them both equally for different reasons
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tkachukz · 9 months
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Fake Dating, Sunflower - Jack Hughes
Summary:  When Jack is tired of his friends' comments about him never having a girlfriend and asks his best friend to be his fake date for a week.
Words: 5,5 K
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Winter made New Jersey beautiful, and you were grateful you'd picked a coat warm enough to handle the cold. The icy wind was cut as soon as you entered the great arena, hearing the sound of blades cutting the ice from afar.
Jack waved at you as soon as he saw you, heading towards one of the ice exits to greet you with a awkward hug over the top of the bleachers.
“Too cold outside?” he said with a big smile, his cheeks slightly red.
"Only to the point of making me freeze."
"Twenty more minutes of training and I'm good to go"
“Don't worry, I brought company” the book Pride and Prejudice was present in your backpack.
Practice lasted another half hour, but you didn't care. How could you, considering you was tucked away from the cold, with a wonderful book in hand and hot tea served by a kindly woman.
Many of the players had already left when Jack arrived. He wore a heavy jacket over his suit. With the points of his hair still wet from shower, he made sure to shake his head as soon as he was close enough.
“I could kill you right now” you said drying the cover of your book.
“You couldn’t, who would offer you a ride home?”
“I'm sure I would find someone. Ready to go?"
"Clear. Some boys are going to go to that pub at the end of the street. If you want".
“I think it's the least for wetting my book” you walked towards the exit.
“Just a few drops” he positioned himself in front of the door, holding the handle “ready?”
“Arg. Yes” with the hood over your head and holding your breath, you surrendered leaving the warm comfort of the arena, with Jack accompanying you while laughing.
The pub was busy, and Jack guided you to the back, where Nico and other teammates were.
“Yn! Good to see you” you greeted everyone and sat down next to Jack.
“Fries for you?” you nodded in agreement.
You and Jack met about a year ago. 
You were trying to make your ex boyfriend jealous and a lonely handsome boy sitting at the bar seemed perfect. You shared your plan and Jack accepted because he thought it would be fun. But at the end of the night, your goal had been achieved, but you didn't even remember it after so long talking to Jack. It turned out that you had a lot in common, both of you having a big family, your connection to hockey - your two younger brothers were in the junior league and were obsessed with your friend - among many other things.
You became friends that day and that friendship has only grown over the months. And although many people hinted at things, it was really friendship. 
I mean, you've already found yourself imagining what it would be like if that happened, but you were too focused on college to think about it and, well, if Jack wanted something, he would have dropped a hint after all this time, right?
The conversation at the table was lively, and you already knew the players long enough to be able to interact with everyone, the quietest one, however, was your best friend.
Jack snorted for the third time as he looked at his phone and then put it in his pocket angrily.
“Okay, want to tell me what's going on?”
He snorted once more and you rolled your eyes.
"I'm meeting the boys at the lake house this weekend"
“You guys are crazy to go there in this cold” you said imagining all that cold water, getting a stern look from Jack “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, keep going honey why are you mad?”
He pressed his lips together and let out a “it’s humiliating” sigh.
“I already took care of you while drunk, I think I can handle it” you shrugged.
“Well, last time we were there, the boys were talking about girls they get with and...”
“I don’t know if I want to hear this”
“No, not like that,” he said quickly, “they talk about the girls they've dated, they've all had at least one girlfriend, and Brock manages to put together a whole line of hockey with exes. Meanwhile, I stayed there just existing” he let out a sigh.
“Even Luke! My little brother Luke once had a girlfriend! Okay that lasted a month, but still. Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
The question caught you off guard “Of course no Jack! It's okay that you've never had a girlfriend, you're still young!"
“You're younger than me and you also had a boyfriend” he looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“And I ended up with a pair of horns on my head” you shrug making him laugh “it's not a problem that you've never dated Jack, you just haven't found the right person yet” you said sincerely, stroking his arm. Your eyes stayed locked on his for a few seconds, until Nico, who was sitting in front of you, and apparently listening to the whole conversation, decided to speak up.
“Why don't you take a fake girlfriend?”
"What?" you spoke in unison.
“Yeah, take someone, tell them you've been with her for like two or three months and they stop bothering you” he shrugged.
“They are my best friends and two of them my brothers, do you think they wouldn't notice if I had a girlfriend? And two months? I clearly would have said something by now.” Jack leaned his elbows on the table.
“So you say it was more recent. About a month ago, you fell in love with a friend and boom” Nico made an explosion noise.
“Boom?” you couldn't hold back your laughter.
“Come on, are you going to tell me that lately you haven't mentioned any friends to them? Someone they haven't met yet who would surely believe you fell head over heels in love with her because she's beautiful.” Nico also leaned his elbows on the table with a sneaky look.
Your attention on the conversation was being shared with your delicious orange juice and you only realized that something was going on when you looked up and the two boys were looking at you “what is it?”.
"You could be my fake girlfriend" Jack spoke a little clouded.
"What??" you dropped the juice on the table.
“It would be perfect! I already mentioned Yn to the boys, but they never got to know each other!” Jack turned to Nico.
“Today is still Wednesday, you can say something like I have a surprise for you at the weekend and when you get there, boom!!” Nico was excited.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” you stared at the two of them as if they were crazy.
“The details of how you fell in love can be discussed by then” Nico apparently felt very proud of the plan.
“You can't be serious” You grabbed Jack's arm and he had a grin from ear to ear.
"Please"
"No?"
“Little please with many hearts”
"No yet"
“Come on, you owe me a fake date” he arched his eyebrows making you roll your eyes.
You pondered. A trip would be a great distraction, you enjoyed Jack's company and always wanted to meet his brothers. However, you knew that something like that could scramble feelings that you never considered and the idea of losing your best friend scared you.
“Okay” you say in defeat, receiving a tight hug from Jack, while Nico smiles victoriously across the table.
 *
 “Don't forget to grab bikinis” Jack's voice rang loudly in your apartment as you went through your suitcase.
“Bikinis? In this cold? Are we going to another hemisphere without my knowing?”
He rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe "the house has a jacuzzi, it's fun"
“Okay, bikinis...” you turned to the wardrobe.
“Get a nice one”.
“Get out of my room” he raised his hands in surrender and walked back.
The bags were already being loaded into the car when you started wringing your hands. Three days ago Jack had asked you to be his fake girlfriend in front of his friends and brothers for an entire weekend, and you'd be lying if you said you slept soundly all night.
Jack eyed the trunk, satisfied with his meticulous packing, but his smile faded when he saw how nervous you were.
He approached slowly, holding your hands close to his chest "you can quit if you want".
"What?" you answered too quickly and Jack's smile faded a little more.
“You can quit. Sorry if you felt pressured to do this. I don't want a fake girlfriend if my best friend is going to start hating me” he gave a small smirk and you took a deep breath.
“I would never hate you” you said sincerely “and I won't give up!! And I promise I'll be the best fake girlfriend you'll ever have!!!"
Jack's smile came back bright as you took a deep confident breath with a giant grin.
“You are without a doubt the best friend in the world” he said, and you hated yourself for feeling your smile fall a little.
 *
The sun was at its peak when you and Jack arrived at the house. The weather was still freezing, but not as cold as Jersey. Your eyes circled the place enchanted by every detail. He'd already shown you pictures of the place, but in person, it looked even more fun.
"What do you think?"
“It's prettier than the pictures” you said with a smile still admiring the place.
Jack carried your bags inside and you followed him down the many corridors “the boys must have taken the boat out, come on, let's put the bags in the room”.
The room was on the second floor, and had access to a small balcony. The walls were blue and scattered with photos, mostly of Jack. Him with his friends, playing hockey, with his family and...
“Do you have a picture of us?” a small Polaroid you didn't even remember taking off was stuck next to a small sunflower sticker.
“It was the first time you came to my game” Jack walked over.
“And the sunflower...”
“Your favorite flower” he scratched the back of his head nervously, but you didn't see it as you were too focused on the photo.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of the boat's horn stopped him.
You followed him outside the house, watching the boys tie up the boat and run towards you.
You felt Jack's hand on your waist, pulling you closer. He looked down and gave you a little wink, as you felt confident to wrap your arms around his waist as well.
“I don't believe it” the first boy arrived with his mouth open, looking between you and Jack.
“Well, believe me my dear friend Trevor. This is Yn” Jack had a smile from ear to ear as he greeted his friend with a hug, pointing to you right after.
“Hi” your cheeks flushed as Trevor greeted you with a warm hug ignoring your outstretched hand.
"Okay, you can stop hugging my girlfriend now" Jack patted him on the back.
"I never thought the word girlfriend would come out of your mouth" Quinn approached, offering you a hand, which you accepted gently.
"Fate is playful" Jack shrugged.
“Jack talks about you all the time, but I thought you were just friends. I'm Brock, and this is Elias, nice to meet you” The blonde approached with a smile and this time it was Jack who felt his cheeks flush.
“Yeah, well, I realized after a while that I wanted more than friendship,” he says confidently, walking back to you.
“And how was that specifically?” Luke, the younger brother who had greeted you with a hug asked a curious question.
“He got jealous of me with someone else” you respond after realizing that Jack has stalled.
"How cute Jack" Trevor said smiling.
“Poor cute, you thought you'd lose me” an amused smile tumbles from your mouth when you notice that Jack's cheeks are reddening.
"You're right. When I thought of her dating someone else, I freaked out.”
“And ran to my apartment with the intention of making a romantic gesture,” you continue, enjoying the idea of making him shy.
“In a very manly way”
“With a giant bouquet of flowers” his friends seem to be amused by the idea of him being romantic.
“A very manly bouquet” he tries.
“Of sunflowers”.
He rolls his eyes "they're your favorite".
A sincere laugh leaves your lips and he follows you.
You reach for his cheek, standing on tiptoe to place a small kiss on the spot, while he still has one hand on your waist, caressing it with his fingertips.
Butterflies emerge in your stomach and you feel your leg wobble.
“Ew, it's good. We already understand that you are in love” Elias says making you two come back to reality.
“So tell me, how are you guys?” Jack addressed the question to the group, who continued talking until they reached some benches near the lake.
Jack guided you all the way, still with his hand firmly on your waist, positioning you to sit next to him on the couch. You spent hours talking, the boys treated each other like brothers and were always very polite in trying to include you in the conversation.
After watching the sunset by the lake, you decided to go inside for a shower and dinner.
*
The kitchen smelled of pasta and sauce when you came downstairs, your hair still wet.
Quinn was in charge of the stove; Elias, Brock and Jack were making the pizza dough and Luke and Trevor were waiting, they would be responsible for putting the pizza together.
"We could go a lot faster if I helped" Trevor complained, clearly bored.
"Don't you dare go near the stove" Quinn said without taking his eyes off the pot.
"And you would never have the skills to do this" Jack said, tossing the flattened pizza dough up, rolling it around on his finger, and returning it to the counter in a perfect circle.
“Wow” you blurted out and watched as six pairs of eyes turned towards you.
“Impressed?” Jack teased, wiping some of the flour off his hands on a napkin.
"I am. You never told me you knew how to do that.”
"Lie! I already cooked for you"
“True! But you never made pizza” you pouted while Jack laughed and leaned a little closer.
"Guilty. I promise to do it when we get back to Jersey.”
“Pinky promise?” you lift your pinky and Jack does so without batting an eye, placing a small kiss on your hand.
"Promise".
The boys had slowly returned to their duties while you and Jack talked. The butterflies in your stomach grew more euphoric with every smile Jack gave. He was always very smiley, but today he looked different.
“Hey, you two, enough flirting and get back to work. Jack, you still have more dough to make, and Yn, if you don't mind sweetener, could you cut the cheese?" Quinn gave the orders with his hands on his hips.
“Yes boss” you and Jack said together by chance going each to a counter.
"Is not fair! Yn just arrived and already has a mission!?” Trevor complained again.
The conversation was animated in the preparation and assembly of the pizzas, which were delicious. 
Jack and you were in charge of the dishes, and while some were tidying up the kitchen, others were preparing the room for a little movie session.
"I wash and you dry" Jack said four dishes ago, you didn't object.
“Tonight has been great” a smile graced your silly lips.
"Yes! They adored you, you're doing great being a fake girlfriend” Jack winked at you and you nodded.
"You're also a great fake boyfriend."
*
You lost track of time as it got dark. The boys had a long argument to choose the movie and when they did, your tiredness got the better of you.
You're not sure when you fell asleep, but you knew you were comfortable. 
Your head was resting on Jack's shoulder, who had his arms behind your back. He had a sweaty smell of shower, and with the little caresses he made on your back, you felt extremely comfortable and safe.
But not prepared for Luke's scream, when apparently some character died.
“I think I'll go to bed” your voice came out through a yawn as your heart was still beating fast.
After a chorus of goodnight and sorrys -and a peck on the cheek from Jack- you finally made it upstairs.
You were finishing getting dressed when Jack walked into the room, his eyes covered.
"It's safe?"
“Yep” you said as soon as you finished putting your pajama top over your head, making your friend open his eyes “is the movie over yet?”
"Not yet, but I'm tired from the trip, and Luke hasn't stopped complaining since the character died."
You watch as Jack locks the door, and takes a blanket from the trunk, spreading it over the foot of the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't worry, you can have the bed, I sleep on the floor."
You'd be lying if you said this didn't make you slightly upset.
And you would be lying if said that you hadn't doubled the amount of cream you had applied to your body.
And maybe perfume.
“Ah”
Jack glared at you "Are you scared of monsters by any chance?" the provocative tone present.
“No” you rolled your eyes.
“Don't worry honey, I'm here to protect you if you need it” he said showing off his muscles.
"My hero!" you said with a laugh, turning off the light.
The moonlight came through a part of the curtain, making the room a beautiful color.
You snuggled under the covers while Jack took off his shirt, and you remembered that he had once commented that he slept like this. The temperature in the room seemed to rise and you closed your eyes quickly before he caught your eye.
*
Heavy knocking on the door made you jump up. Jack was still sleeping, face down, and he didn't seem to mind the louder and louder knocking.
“Are they still sleeping?” whispers through the door, sounding like Trevor's voice.
"Doesn't Luke have a key to this room?"
You reached for the nearest pillow throwing it at your unconscious friend who jumped up, facing your desperate eyes and the noise at the door.
He hurried to his feet, throwing the covers under the bed, and erasing any traces that he had slept on the floor. He tried to straighten his tangled hair, heading towards the door, still shirtless.
“May I know why the hell you guys are making such a racket at this time of the morning?” he opened the door wide enough to see the boys but made sure they couldn't see you.
"Room service" Trevor's voice sounded excited.
“Is Yn awake yet?” Brock appeared to try to enter the room, but Jack held the door steady.
“My girlfriend is still in her pajamas and you are crazy if you think I would let you see her like that”
Damn butterflies.
Jack went into the hallway and closed the door, returning a few seconds later "I told them we'd be down in a few minutes so they could get off my back, but you can take as many minutes as you want".
He turned to you, walking towards the bed and climbing on it, sitting next to you.
“I'm sorry about them, I promise they won't try to get in the room again” he says with a small smile holding your hand, which only then you realize was tightly gripped in the blanket.
Jack places a small kiss on the top of her head, and once again the feeling of security invades you.
*
“I can't believe you guys came all this way to play hockey” your voice was indignant as Jack pulled you towards a large open air ice rink.
“We're hockey players honey” he said amused.
“Yn, what size are your skates?” Quinn turned to you.
"I...I think I'll just watch"
“How disrespectful.” Trevor looked offended.
“I don't know how to skate, but it's ok I...”
The looks of shock went from you to Jack in a matter of seconds.
"Didn't you teach your girlfriend how to skate???"
"What's your problem??"
"Mom would be disappointed."
“He already tried to teach me, I'm just very resistant” you felt on a mission to save your friend.
"And I'm still going to teach her" Jack said confidently.
“Maybe one day” you nodded, as the boys headed towards the ice.
You followed Jack to the edge of the ice, where the other boys were, too, turning to him with a bouncy smile.
“Score a goal for me darling?”
He laughed "honey, you deserve nothing less than a hat trick".
You watched the first few minutes of the game, trying to be a competent fake girlfriend, but you fell into your book a while later, still on the edge of the ice. The boys formed a team and were playing with other boys, it seemed to have formed an interesting match.
Jack passed by you several times, to celebrate goals or try to splash ice on you.
Minutes of what should have been the second half, a boy also on the outside of the ice approached.
"What are you reading?"
“Pride and Prejudice” you lifted the cover.
“Great book, and much better movie. I'm Dylan, nice to meet you” he held out his hand.
“I don't trust anyone who thinks the film is better. I'm Yn” you shook his hand, he laughed.
“Interesting activity being right in front of an ice rink. Don't you know how to skate?
"No. And you, why aren't you there?
Dylan's response get lost in the cloud of ice hurled at him.
“Jack!”
“Oops, my bad. I had to stop,” he said with a cynical smile, taking off his glove and holding out his hand to Dylan, who had ice in his hair, “I'm Jack Hughes”.
"Dylan".
"Nice, Dylan, apparently you've already met my girlfriend Yn."
"Girlfriend? Now it makes sense,” Dylan murmured.
"What did you say?" Jack moved forward and you put yourself in front.
"Hey!? He was just being nice.”
"He was trying to hit on other people's girlfriends" Jack glares at the boy who has already run off.
"No, he was not."
“You are too naive to understand.”
"What?"
“You never notice when someone hits on you Yn!” he yelled “they can do anything but you don't realize it!”
Jack ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner and you instinctively took a step back.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you I just..."
You turned your back and walked away, ignoring the call of your best friend and the other boys. The fact that they were on roller skates favored you, making it possible for you to get home before them, and lock yourself in your room.
Jack's outburst caught you off guard, you had never heard him scream, especially with you. Inevitable tears flowed from your eyes. These last few days had been a tangle of emotions and you felt overwhelmed.
Light knocks on the door “it's me” Jack's voice echoes through the lock.
"I don't want to talk right now."
Your voice cracks, and Jack feels his heart sink when he realizes you're crying. Worse. Upon realizing he made you cry.
“I shouldn't have yelled at you Yn, I'm so sorry” his voice is also muffled; he is sitting on the floor, his forehead resting against the door.
"All I did this weekend was help you Jack."
"I know. I'm an idiot” the pain in his voice was audible.
A long silence hangs in the air, making her sobs seem louder.
“I bought you a present” he says still in a whisper “it's in the second drawer, on the right. It's the black box.”
You hold back for a few seconds, but curiosity overcomes you. You open two wrong drawers before the right one, but finally find a small black box, looking like an intruder in the middle of so much hockey stuff. A sob leaves your throat as you open it to find a delicate sunflower pendant.
"It was supposed to be a surprise" Jack says with a sigh.
“When did you buy this?” you felt your voice waver.
"What?"
“Did you buy this week?” your heart was sinking “tell me you didn't buy this this week. Tell me you didn't buy it just to show your friends that you know how to gift your fake girlfriend! That you're more than the kind of boy who changes when he's in front of his friends! You are making me confuse the whole weekend!" you shouted in a shaky voice.
“I've had this for months” Jack let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes tightly “you've always been true to me Yn, you just never realized it.”
Silence reigned for minutes, which became hours.
You were grateful for the door, since without it, Jack would find you in a sorry state.
Unaware of how much time had passed, you heard another knock on the door.
"I don't want to talk Jack."
"It's Quinn" your heart jumped "let me in please".
You pondered for a moment, but staggered to the door, opening it for the older brother.
“I thought you needed food” he held up a bag, which looked like it had bread and juice “can I come in?”
You nodded giving him room, your stomach rumbling as you opened the bag.
"What time is it?"
"Midnight. You were locked in here for nearly seven hours.”
"My hair must look ridiculous."
Quinn let out a small laugh through his nose, sighing shortly after.
“I know about you and Jack.”
"What?" you almost choked.
"Jack is my little brother, I know him better than anyone. And I knew that if he had gotten a chance with you, he would have told me right away, not a month later."
“A chance with me?” your head was spinning and you ate another bread.
“Did you really never notice?” Quinn looked at you with a certain admiration and curiosity, while you disagreed.
“He liked you from the day you met. The Devils had lost that day and he was on a losing streak, his mood was sour than lemon, but after meeting you, he came home grinning like an idiot. I remember him saying that he was so stunned that he had forgotten to ask for your phone number..."
“I always wondered how he found me”
"He knew your college, and he knew your last name, so he looked through the list of approved until he found it."
“But should they have like a millions names?”
"Was a long night" Quinn let out a smile "he let out a scream when he found your Instagram, and when you followed him back."
“He was always talking about you to me. Always. When we traveled, he always thought of a little souvenir to bring you, and I lost count of how many times we stayed behind because he wanted to take a picture of everything.”
“The Hughes family travel vlogs starring Jack Hughes” you mimicked the voice you knew by heart and Quinn laughed.
"He recorded it at least five times to make sure it was good."
“Why has he never asked me out?” you rambled.
Quinn shrugged, “He's Jack. He never went into detail with me, but I remember him mentioning once that you had a bad relationship with your ex and that you were trying to focus on your studies now. I think he just was afraid of losing you.”
You felt little tears forming in your eyes remembering moments of you and Jack.
When he listened to you for hours telling about your love misadventures, your deepest scars. 
When he took you in when you broke down and went to buy you a big tub of ice cream. 
When he heard you say you were tired of suffering for love. 
When you fell asleep on the couch and woke up warm and comfortable in bed. When you got sick and he left practice early just to check on you. 
Jack's smile when you showed up to watch him on the ice, or wore one of his shirts.
When he smiled at you and you felt your heart stop. 
And those damn butterflies.
"Where is he?"
*
The clock was past one in the morning and the night was cold.
Jack had his eyes closed, feeling the warm water of the Jacuzzi under the moonlight.
You approached slowly admiring the scene. He was shirtless, and looked relaxed, his body moving slowly with the water.
“Are you alone?” your voice was muffled.
Jack gave a small smirk, eyes still closed.
You walked around the jacuzzi, sitting on the stairs, right across from Jack.
He opened his eyes, analyzing you for a few seconds. You were wearing a heavy winter coat, and you smelled like vanilla and after-bath, with a high bun.
“I'm sorry” his gaze was intense.
“Me too” a small smile came out of your mouth, being reciprocated.
You took a deep breath, putting your legs in the tub. Jack's eyes shot to them instantly, your skin reflecting the blue of the water.
“I don't regret it,” he said, looking back into your eyes.
"What?"
“From this weekend. Of having you as my fake girlfriend for a while. Was cool".
A small smile came out of your mouth “I could have been your real girlfriend if you had had the guts to ask.”
The tension was electrifying. 
Jack took a deep breath, putting his arms out of the jacuzzi, looking at you in a different way. Desire.
You took off your coat, revealing your body in a black bikini, which you had felt stupid packing to go visit somewhere cold, but now you were nothing short of grateful.
Jack let out a heavy breath, and gripped the edge of the pool as he watched your entire body submerge.
"Now, I'm slightly sorry" he accompanied you glazed, while you walked slowly closer to him.
“The weekend isn't over yet” your smile was relaxed as you stopped right in front of him, who was sitting, making his knees touch your belly.
“Hi, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you".
“You are unique” Jack grabbed your waist with one hand, pulling you onto his lap.
The kiss was desperate. A prize won after an agonizing wait.
His tongues engaged in a hot battle as he had his hands all over your body, pulling you close. Between caresses, you let out a smile.
“Look how interesting, you will be able to introduce your real girlfriend to your brothers and your friends tomorrow”
Jack lets out a smile as he kisses your neck "I wish you the best of luck, they really liked the last one, it's going to be a tough competition".
You couldn't hold back a hearty laugh. And Jack found himself admiring you bright smile, going down your neck seconds later. 
He starts tracing the silver chain, until it went down towards your breasts, where a delicate yellow sunflower was.
"Did you like it?"
You felt your cheeks flush "you get lucky, they're kinda my favorite".
Your heart melted as you moved closer for one more kiss.
 And it was like that all night.  
:)
1K notes · View notes
gurugirl · 9 months
Text
A Balancing Act | Ch. 2*
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Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.
Chapter Summary: Y/n learns that Harry kissed another woman and decides to move on. Harry crashes Y/n's date to get her to change her mind. But then he makes a shocking discovery.
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral sex sort of), angst
Word Count: 9,739
Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)
A Balancing Act Masterlist
Returning to LA after his tour in Latin America, Harry was sitting with Pat in his lovely house. Matcha tea was served and she started off by asking him how he was feeling emotionally lately. She tended to want to start off their sessions by letting him talk about his emotions and how he was dealing with his busy life, reserving the topic of relationships and love until toward the end. It gave her a good gauge of his overall well-being.
“I miss home. It’s always the hardest when I feel like I’m missing out on so much. Feels like I’m ignoring what’s really important in life and focusing too much on myself. Feels selfish. I know that no one thinks that. My mum is always telling me to not worry but it’s just hard. Especially because I’m closing in on 30 and just feels like I’ve just been playing around for all my life.”
“But this is your work. And you do work hard. You’re just lucky that you’re talented enough that you can delve into this kind of creativity and make a living from it. You’re putting more responsibility on yourself than is necessary. You’re on your own path, Harry. And while from the outside everything looks fun and glamorous, even you know the truth because you live it. It’s hard. So don’t discount yourself by feeling like you’re not doing enough. Your mom is okay. She can take care of herself. Gemma is okay too. She’s doing well. Your friends and all the people that matter in your life support you. Comparing yourself to the 9-5 worker isn’t going to do you any good. You’re a successful artist. An entrepreneur. Just imagine if you weren’t. You’d be in Manchester or London and working some mundane job. Sure you’d be around your family but you wouldn’t be thriving like you are now. I think you’d be miserable and if you’re miserable your family will feel that.”
Harry nodded, “Probably. I guess I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
“I can’t either. But it’s more about how you’re dealing with that guilt. I think as you’re getting older your priorities are shifting a little. And that’s okay. It’s good to welcome new awareness. Just be sure to not dwell on it because no one else is.”
Harry sniffed a laugh and smiled. Pat was right of course. He knew all of this. They’d been talking about his guilt a lot more recently and he recognized it was more because there were particular milestones that society set for people. And Harry had met many milestones but the basic ones like love, family, stability, children were all things he’d had yet to really achieve. Of course, he had a family but not his own, with a spouse and kids and a little house in town… but that wasn’t his to have yet. And the little house in town might wind up looking more like a bunch of houses in different parts of the world. He couldn’t deny he was lucky but he also couldn’t ignore that he felt like he’d been shirking his adult responsibilities.
“Okay. I can tell you need to say something. Want to move on from this subject?”
Harry grinned and repositioned himself to face more squarely toward Pat, “I met someone.”
“Oh? What does that mean?”
“I met her in Chicago. She was staying at the hotel I was in but she was there for an art show, she’s this really talented artist. But anyway… we just hit it off. We’ve been talking on the phone almost every night. I really like her.”
Pat nodded and placed her mug down, “That’s great. So, she stayed at the hotel you were in but how did you come to actually meet her?”
Harry described the scene at the bar and then how he invited her to his show the following evening, “I just… I don’t know. She’s not famous or anything but she acted like I was just a normal guy. And we really connected mentally and physically. She really seems to like all the things I like.”
“You mean, in bed? Or have you really gotten to know her on a deeper level?” She smirked and tilted her head. Harry was like this. He could connect with all kinds of people and it made his heart swell and lurch and then as fast as it filled up it all deflated just as quickly.
“Well, not just in bed. But yeah. We just clicked.”
“Look, I think that’s great. Just remember, you are okay as a single man too. Correct? You don’t need to be loved all the time. You are enough. You don’t have to fall in love and get married and have children to be a whole person. Society says you need that but you get to choose your path. But if you really like, this, uh… what’s her name?”
“Y/n. Even her name is pretty.”
“Y/n. Well, if you like her enough just take your time. Get to know her. Long distance is hard and phone calls are good but no substitute for face-to-face time. Do you think she’s as serious about this as you are?”
Harry shrugged and pursed his lips to the side, “I think so. I mean… we’ve talked about a lot and she’s told me so many things about herself. I guess I haven’t asked her to make it official, though.”
“Probably wise to wait to make it official. Jumping into a serious relationship could backfire as you well know. And there is the matter that you’re on the road so often. Did you see anyone else while you were away?”
Harry shook his head, “No. I actually really like Y/n. Didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.”
Pat sighed, “You do realize you were supposedly spotted leaving a party with a woman people claimed you were kissing. Right? Just a couple of weeks ago. Which would have been after your Chicago shows.”
Harry groaned and nodded. He did know. His PR team told him about the supposed fan sighting and there was even a photo of him with a woman. Who he did kiss, but it wasn’t a kiss that meant anything. It was just a bit of fun and Harry had had a good amount of tequila. He honestly was just flirting and wanted to kiss the woman. But of course, when she wanted to take things further he declined because Y/n had been on his mind.
That was one thing about Harry. He was flirty and he’d kiss people he never intended on sleeping with. He kissed men and women and flirted all the time but usually, it was more friendly than sexual. Sometimes people got the wrong idea but that was just how Harry was. He loved getting close to people and touching. Loved hugs and kisses especially if he knew the person.
Even when he was with his last ex she’d gotten used to him kissing others and holding hands with someone else. But it wasn’t always very well received. Like the time she left one of the parties they were at early because she was tired and then he was filmed making out with a friend on a couch in front of people. He had a lot of explaining to do for that one. She forgave him but it hurt her. She cried. Harry felt bad that he’d done it. He loved how it felt to kiss someone and have them kiss him back, the zip of excitement and the tiniest bit of tension.
“Yes. I’m aware. I don’t know that she’s heard anything just yet. I think the photo only got published like yesterday or day before.”
“Well, it’s probably a good idea to talk to her about it before she sees the photo and reads the salacious headlines. That is if you’re interested in still seeing her.”
He nodded and looked down at his lap.
“Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing with all your new endeavors coming up. The timelines and the travel that will entail.”
.           .           .
Y/n was usually late with getting news or updates on celebrities. She spent a lot of her time painting during the day so unless she took a break and used her free time to peruse social media sites she might not realize things like the fact that the man she was beginning to develop feelings for had kissed another woman while he was away in another country.
Just as on this day. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d done as of yet. That is until Kat, her best friend, called in the middle of her glazing a painting she’d just completed.
She hadn’t told anyone about Harry except for Kat. Kat would keep her mouth shut about everything. Y/n knew she could trust her friend with her new secret. Not that Harry told her to not tell anyone but he did mention it would be better if very few people knew.
“Hello?” She spoke into the receiver as she capped the glaze and wiped her hands on her bibs.
“Hey babe. Did you see the link I sent you?”
“Uh… no. I’ve been working on a piece all morning.”
“Put me on speaker. Take a look.”
Y/n clicked the sound to the speaker and opened up her texts to see the link from Kat.
The moment the Daily Mail website came up with a blurry, dark photo of Harry standing very close to a woman she felt her heart drop.
Reading the caption of the article:
STYLES SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN IN COLOMBIA
“Are you seeing it?” Kat asked.
“Yeah. I am.”
The article mentioned him leaving with the woman after a party and Y/n put the phone back to her ear, not wanting to read more in that moment, “Thank you, Kat. I’m glad you showed me.”
“Of course. I mean… it’s Daily Mail so it might not be anything, but I just wanted you to have that info just in case. You know?”
Y/n nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, “Yeah. I know. I’m gonna go, though. I need to finish my canvas. But I’ll call you later, okay?”
Letting out a shaky breath she sat down so she could read the whole article, line by line. Obsess over the information and then google to find more websites and gossip pages, supposed first-hand accounts, unnamed sources talking about how he’s been seeing her for a while and he’s excited, other blurry photos of him at the party drinking…
She shook her head and stood up, locking her phone and putting it down on the table near the bottle of glaze. She looked over her canvas and figured she could take a break. It would be good for her to get out and take a walk. Clear her mind and figure out what she wanted to do.
Her walk resulted in her only dwelling on everything. He hadn’t called her in a couple of days but she knew he was traveling back to LA. She felt like he’d probably needed the rest from all the shows, the jetlag, time zone changes… but perhaps it was because he was seeing someone else now.
And that was certainly possible. They didn’t know one another all that well. She hadn’t even told him the whole story about her husband yet. About what had happened to him. And there had been no commitment made. They had sex in his hotel room. A few times. And it was really good. She felt they had a unique connection. Her feelings for him grew a little more quickly than was wise probably and the Facetime calls with all the revelations of things from their past and what they wanted in the future felt like she was talking to someone whom she could see herself with. He’d also given her his personal cellphone number which she knew was sort of a big deal.
But of course, that was ridiculous. This was Harry Styles and even if he did like her (which she was sure he liked her on some level) that didn’t mean they’d end up together. He could choose anyone. It certainly wouldn’t be her.
Later that night as she snacked on dill pickles and popcorn she fell into the hole of the search engine on her laptop.
The night Harry was supposedly seen with the woman was a night he hadn’t called her (she checked her call log). He didn’t call her every night, but it was still noted. Then she found another “source” saying Harry was happier than he’d ever been and that the Colombian woman was spotted in LA with him.
He hadn’t called her again that night either. Closing her laptop she figured it was over. She wouldn’t be calling him to find out what was going on. He didn’t owe her anything and it would look weird and stalkery to be asking him about the other woman. As if she had any claim on him.
Opening up her DMs on Instagram she decided to check back in on Dante. He’d messaged her all that time ago and she’d left him on read once Harry came into the picture. Maybe it was time to find someone closer to being in her own league.
.           .           .
Harry had a little time off and he caught up on much-needed sleep and getting back into a normal routine. He’d planned on calling Y/n that night. He’d been back in LA for a few days and felt like he was back in the right time zone finally. But he wondered why he hadn’t heard from her at all either. Normally she’d send off a little text during the day. A meme or something that would make him laugh. But it was silence from her for almost five whole days. Not that he’d reached out either but still…
He wondered what she was doing. It was a Saturday night and when he realized she was two hours ahead of him he figured he might as well give her a ring to see how she was. It was nearly 9pm her time already.
But the call went to voicemail so he left a message, a smile on his face, “Hey you… haven’t heard from you in a few days figured I’d give you a call to see what’s happening. I’ve been back in LA for a bit and I’m all caught up on rest. Give me a call back when you’ve time!”
She didn’t return his call that evening.
The following day Harry checked his messages and texts but he’d still gotten nothing from her and it was already midday (yes, he’d slept in quite late since he was up late writing a new song he couldn’t get out of his head). It was odd.
Shooting off a text message to her he suddenly had a feeling that perhaps she was avoiding him. Perhaps she’d seen the articles about him with someone else. He hoped that wouldn’t deter her from wanting to see him again. Hoped that she’d at least let him explain.
He needed to do something about it if that was the case. He couldn’t let her slip away without even having had the chance to see where it could go.
.           .           .
She heard the voicemail. In fact, she saw her phone light up with a notification that he was calling her in real time.
But she’d just messaged Dante and they had plans to meet up the following weekend. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t already come to town for the art exhibit. She thought she’d missed her chance when she messaged Dante back and apologized for not responding sooner. But he was polite as ever and they made plans to see one another.
So she was going to move on from Harry. There was unlikely anything good to come of it anyway. She had an amazing night with him and a handful of orgasms she could reminisce on but he was a world-famous pop star and he was single and surely he wanted to play the field for as long as he could. She understood it, but that didn’t make the situation feel any better. Therefore, the only way to get over him and to move on was to stop contact with him and get back out there.
Plus, now that she’d been with a man after her husband she felt like it was time to start dating again. It had been fun with Harry and she could have fun with others too. Maybe she’d sleep around a bit. See what that was like. Sow her wild oats. She’d gotten married so young and had little experience before him… Yeah, it was time to get out and date.
The following day she saw a text from Harry after leaving a meeting with someone who knew an art dealer.
Was just thinking of you. Missed hearing your voice. I’m back in LA now. Call me or text back. 
She sat in her car and locked her phone, putting her head behind her on the headrest. What was he doing? She was kind of confused that he’d called her, left a voicemail, and then today had texted her. She really was trying to just move on. Figured he had too. But she was too curious not to call him. However, she’d keep him waiting until she was at home with a bottle of wine before she reached out. Maybe she’d hear him out. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the other woman. She wouldn’t be bringing it up unless he did, but he had to know she’d heard about it. Right?
So, she took the long way to her house, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and Chinese food before getting home.
She drew her curtains and took her clothes off, only wearing her panties and a tank top, and put her hair up in a messy bun on her head (like the real-deal messy buns, not those cute going-out-messy-on-purpose messy buns). Pouring herself a glass of wine and taking a big gulp she looked down at her cell phone as she sat on her couch and re-read his text.
For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how this conversation would play out but she wanted to find out what the result would be. This could possibly (most definitely) be the end for them. And she’d be okay with that if it were. Bummed, but fine. She still had her date with Dante to look forward to.
She dialed the number and put him on speaker as she leaned back into her couch and covered her face. She didn’t know if he’d pick up or not but she wanted to get this conversation out of the way.
“Hello!” Harry’s voice came over the speaker quickly. He sounded keyed up.
“Hi. It’s Y/n. You called and texted so I wanted to return your call.”
“Oh yeah… well, it’s been a few days. Was wondering how you were. So, yeah… How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. And you?”
Harry paused and noted the way she answered him in a clipped tone, cold. Not her normal friendly disposition.
“I’m well. Is… is everything all right?”
“Sure. Just doing my thing. Is everything all right with you?”
Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “Yeah. Um… did you read something about me? Is that why you’re upset?”
Y/n laughed and took a sip of her wine. Here we go, she thought to herself.
“Do I sound upset to you, Harry?”
“You actually do. Yes. Look, if you’re pissed about the articles from when I was in Colombia, I just want you to know that all of that is blown out of proportion. Right? So-“
“Oh. Interesting So you’re saying you didn’t make out with a Colombian woman at a party in Bogota?” God, she hated to sound so jealous but he did bring it up first. She cringed as she let her hurt feelings surface, but it was too late to keep her cool like she intended.
Harry sighed loudly, “I just mean that’s all blown out of propor-“
“Yes, you said that. I’m asking if what is being said is true or not.”
“It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. I am a bit of a flirt and I kissed a woman but that was it! I swear. I thought of you the whole time-“
“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I’m going on a date next weekend anyway. We’re free to see other people, right? And-“
“A date? Next weekend?”
She laughed, “Yes. A date. Next weekend. It’s not like you and I will get to see one another much anyway. If at all. So there’s no reason to drag this out. We had fun but it’s clearly not something we need to bother ourselves with.”
“Bother… what? I thought we really connected, Y/n. I’m confused. I really like you.”
“But how can you say that when you made out with someone else? I really like you too Harry but you’re seeing other people because you know as well as I do that this, whatever it is between us, was never serious. Right?”
“No. No that’s not true. And I didn’t make out with her! It was like a quick party kiss sort of thing. Damnit! I swear, Y/n. I’m sorry. I had a little too much tequila and I kissed her but I really was thinking about you and she wanted me to come with her to her room but I told her I was seeing someone and that was it! God, I fucked this up didn’t I?”
Y/n sat for a moment. She had to admit she was surprised by all of this. Surprised that he’d contacted her after she didn’t respond the first time, that he seemed upset about possibly having offended her or hurting her, and that he was acting like he really did like her. But she determined that it was best if they parted ways. She realized it would simply be too hard for this to work. And based on the way his fans obsessed over the Colombian woman and were already talking shit about her (when they didn’t even know who it was) she knew she was right. She had to put an end to it before she got her heart broken.
“There was never anything to fuck up, Harry. But, look… let’s be honest here okay? I’m just a regular gal. I’m not your type, not the type that would be able to deal with your fame and all your adoring fans. I had a lot of fun with you and I think you are absolutely amazing. I really do like you but I just can’t see this working. You know?”
Harry shook his head and tried to stay calm. He had to think. He had to make this work. And he needed to not freak out about the fact that she was going on a date. He hated to think of her with anyone else. And yes, he did kiss a woman, but it wasn’t the same thing! Not to him anyway.
“I think you’re wrong. I think it can work. Let me prove it to you. I’ll come see you. Cancel your date next weekend and let me take you out instead.”
Y/n blinked her eyes, taken aback. She was truly shocked that he wanted to see her again and that he wanted to make it work but still…
“Harry…” she sighed, “you can’t expect me to cancel my date. That’s really not fair to me.”
He knew she was right, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m overstepping. I just thought we really connected. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”
Pulling her lips into her mouth she sat her glass of wine down. She was looking forward to seeing him again too, until she learned about the kiss. Even if they weren’t serious and even if the kiss meant nothing to him it meant something to her, “Please don’t make this hard. I really did like you, Harry. But it’s obviously not going to work. And that’s okay.”
“No. It’s not okay. I’m coming to see you. You don’t have to cancel your date. I’m not going to boss you around, but I’ll be flying to Chicago on Friday morning. I’m going to prove to you that we have something good here, Y/n. And if you still don’t see that after next weekend then I’ll back off.”
She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t beside herself with the idea that he wanted to put in so much effort to see her. And she certainly couldn’t stop him from going to Chicago and she wouldn’t. But she did feel like it was unlikely he’d actually show up.
“I mean… Jesus, Harry.” She shook her head and grinned, her heart pounding, “You’re crazy. I don’t understand why you want to do this. We had a night together-“
“It was more than just a night. Y/n, come on… you know as well as I do that it was more than just that. All the things we talked about on the phone all those nights. Did that mean nothing? I shared so many personal things with you and I know so many things about you too. But I want to know everything. All of you. I might be crazy but I can’t just give up.”
“We’ll see. And I can’t stop you from flying out here but I’m not going to make you any promises either.”
Harry was determined. More than ever. He knew it was special with Y/n. He knew she knew it too. The night he had her in his hotel room was maybe the hottest sex he’d ever had. And of course, hot sex doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re soul mates but the way they connected and were vulnerable with one another was not like anything he’d ever had. Then all their subsequent conversations and things they’d revealed about themselves? No. He wasn’t done and she wasn’t either. He felt it deep down that she wanted him to prove to her that he was serious.
Kissing that woman had been a mistake. And now he was going to prove to her that he was serious. That they could work.
.           .           .
She didn’t know why she told him where she was going to be on her date. She didn’t need to tell him. He could wait to see her until after. She told him as much at first when he called her the moment he landed.
“Where will you be with your date?” He spoke saying the word date like a dirty word.
“Harry… why do you need that information?”
“Because I’m just curious. Maybe I’m looking for restaurant suggestions.”
“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes to herself, “If I tell you, you better not show up and ruin everything. I kind of like this guy, Harry.”
Harry’s heart fell into his stomach and the smirk on his face faded at that. She liked the guy? She was supposed to only like him.
“I won’t ruin anything. I promise.” He couldn’t actually make that promise. He wouldn’t be held accountable for the methods he used to convince her she was his. That she wanted to be with him only.
.           .           .
The steak house was a typical small-town restaurant that looked cutesy and had a few things on the outside of the building to let you know it was a restaurant but still came off as more of something that looked like a house.
The inside wasn’t much different. The entry into the restaurant started at the bar. Round high-top tables and tall stools scattered along the middle with dining tables with chairs of normal height lined the wall to the right. The bar with various bottles of neatly arranged, half-empty bottles of liquor along the left. Old wood floors, crown molding, high ceilings, an old dusty scent mixed with the smell of stale spilled beer (that smell just doesn’t come out after years of clumsy customers insisting on spilling their ales every night for the past 35 years), food cooking, and meat searing. Beyond the bar was the main dining room with more tables placed around the space and large windows that looked out onto a sizeable terrace with more tables under a large awning.
Harry let his gaze move around the room and walking past the bar he peeked into the main dining room to see if he could spot the woman of his dreams.
“Harry Styles!” A young lady shrieked and as he turned back he saw two other women walking toward him. He knew the look. They were starstruck and hoping for a chance to speak to him and get a photo.
Reluctantly he obliged. Signed a napkin, took a few pictures, and shook their hands with a smile on his face. It tended to be better to just be nice and give them something quickly instead of declining. Sometimes declining or saying he couldn’t resulted in more issues than it was worth.
Not spotting Y/n anywhere either inside or outside he asked the young man stood at the front if there was a reservation under Y/n’s name. He expected that her date would have put it under his name but on the off chance-
“Yes sir. Uh, that reservation for 2 people isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Are you the other party on the reservation?”
Harry grinned and nodded, “Why yes. I am.”
He followed behind the kid to a spot outside on the terrace and ordered a bottle of red wine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing but figured that once Y/n arrived with her date they could finish it off. He knew that what he was doing was taking it a little too far (maybe a lot too far) but he wanted to properly greet her and get a good look at this date. He’d get up and let them take their seats and then he’d pay the bill of course as an apology for the inconvenience.
Before he’d finished his glass of wine his sight landed on the entry to the terrace where Y/n, a tall man with dark hair (presumably her date), and the young host who seated Harry were walking toward him. There she was. She’d really dressed up too. The low plunge of her dress and the way it hit her hips were mouthwatering. He stood up quickly as he continued to watch her in awe. Her pretty face was set in an unamused frown, “What are you doing Harry?”
Shrugging his shoulders he looked to the guy next to her. He was Harry’s height. Taller even. Annoyingly good-looking in an older, sophisticated yet unbothered kind of way, “I’m Harry,” he jutted his hand out to shake.
The date looked at Y/n and then back to Harry with his hand taking Harry’s in a firm shake, “Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Styles… But why are you sitting at our table?” He asked with a laugh. So she hadn’t told her date about him. Pity.
“Oh, I was just having a sit, drinking a little wine. But I’ll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure my lovely friend here made it safely. Oh! And please! Enjoy the rest of the wine. And I’ve already told them that the tab is on me. So get whatever you like. Go wild.”
The look of anger on Y/n’s face should have deterred Harry from speaking further, but he couldn’t help himself, “And you look… wow. Incredible. You’re stunning, Y/n,” he looked over her frame and then back to her face, “I’ll call you later,” he winked as he turned and sauntered away just as casually as he had mentioned he was paying their bill. As if it were all just a normal occurrence.
Y/n watched the handsome pop star walk away before turning to Dante, “Sorry about that. He was just trying to be funny. Just a friend,” she reassured.
Though, Dante didn’t seem wary of him at all. He was clueless as to what had just happened, “You know Harry Styles?!”
Sitting down and pushing Harry’s nearly empty glass of cabernet to the edge of the table she nodded, “Yeah. Met him a couple of months ago when he was in Chicago for a concert, and I was there for an art show. Just luck.”
She left out the part where he had her in his posh hotel suite one evening and they spent the whole night fucking and talking and laughing. Connecting. And then again in the morning until she had to leave.
Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about Harry’s little stunt. He seemed like such a genuinely sweet guy that what had just happened felt a little out of character. Though she got some glimpses of his pushy, dominant side in bed, she hadn’t seen any of that persona transfer outside of the bedroom. Not when he first introduced himself, and not in any of their conversations on the phone… But she guessed perhaps there was a part of him that would come out in this way. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it all deep down.
But still. The nerve of him to sit at the table she and her date would be sharing and drink wine while he waited for them. To look at her the way he had, his eyes blatantly following her shape down to her hips and back up again with that grin… The compliment. And then to have their bill paid for? It was a power move. He was trying to assert dominance over Dante in some way. Even though Dante was annoyingly clueless somehow. She thought for sure he’d be livid about it but he wasn’t.
Dante was a little too nice she decided.
And it’s not like Y/n thought her date should be upset. She didn’t want two men fighting over her or anything. But the part of her that kind of liked what Harry had done, liked that he was trying to stake a claim or send a message- wanted to see what Dante had in him. Wanted maybe just a tiny bit to see him jealous or even insist on paying despite the fact that Harry said he would. Dante didn’t seem threatened at all. She shook her head of those thoughts. How silly for Y/n to even think that he should feel that way. Of course not!
And she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked in his suit and his thick dark hair with soft curls as she and her date neared the table he was casually sitting at. The handsome smug look on his face as he watched them. And she tried to refocus and listen as Dante was talking about his recent gallery show but she was now stuck thinking about the night she and the famous man shared together. That was probably part of what he intended as well, showing up like he did. To set the tone for the entire date. He knew what he was doing. And it had worked.
“Excuse me. I need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
She took a deep breath as she walked into the restaurant and followed the hanging wooden signs that pointed toward the little hallway where the two bathrooms were. A single toilet room each for women and men.
Flicking the light on and clicking the lock she leaned into the door and closed her eyes. She had to give herself a pep talk.
“You’re here with a perfectly nice and handsome man. Same interests, a level head, funny, humble…” and Dante was all those things. But something was missing. Something was holding her back from truly enjoying his company. And she knew just what it was. It was because he wasn’t Harry. And even if Harry hadn’t made his surprise appearance to discombobulate her completely, interrupting her date, she would have still felt the same.
Just as she pushed herself off the door there was a knock, “Sorry! Be right out!”
Y/n washed her hands and dried them before opening the door. But in a shocking split-second, she was met with the handsome smile of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked into the bathroom, causing her to step herself backward. Harry closed the door and clicked the lock.
“Harry! What are you doing?!”
Harry smirked and leaned his back into the door, “How’s the date going?”
Crossing her arms over her chest she tried to feign annoyance but she was working hard to hide her own grin, “It’s fine. I like Dante. Why are you still here?”
“I figured I’d see if you were free after. I brought some things with me that I think you might enjoy.”
She paused. He brought some things? What did that mean?
“I can’t believe I told you where my date was,” she shook her head and sighed.
“I’m sure you did it because you hoped for this very outcome.”
“Oh come on, Harry. I actually didn’t think you’d even come here this weekend, to be honest.”
Harry stitched his brows together and pushed himself off the door, taking two long-legged strides toward her, and brought his hands up to her face, “Well I am here. And I want you, Y/n. I don’t care that you’re on a fucking date. That should be me sitting out there getting to take you out,” he jabbed a finger in the air toward the door before returning his palm to her cheek.
Her blood pumped quickly through her veins and her head felt fluttery and light as she watched his mouth and then looked at his eyes as he spoke. His hair was fluffy and soft and his hands on her face felt gentle but she knew what they could do. All the very opposite things of gentle that had awakened some kind of indulgent new requirement. She wanted to put up a good fight. Make him work harder. Make him beg a little even. He’d kissed another woman! For god’s sake, she should make him grovel. But he was there. With her. Looking at her like he did that last morning they were together when they were making plans to keep contact until they could see one another again.
She didn’t know how to respond. If she were responding candidly, she’d tell him that yeah, it should be him out there treating her to dinner and not Dante. That she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind and last night, even though she had this date lined up, it was Harry’s image that she orgasmed to when she masturbated. In fact, it had only been Harry she got off to since she’d had that night with him nearly two months ago.
Harry tilted his head and spoke softly, “Please, Y/n. Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg? Or,” a small devious smirk quirked up on his lips as he licked them and ducked in to speak into her ear, his body pressed into hers, “maybe you want this. You like the chase, don’t you? Is that what you want? Trying to play hardball with me, sweet girl?”
She was a goner the moment his lips brushed over the shell of her ear and he brought his hands down from her face to her hips and pulled her in close. A small warm peck to her lobe, “What is it that you want me to do? I’ll do it.”
Y/n drew her hands up his back to his broad shoulders and moaned as she stretched her neck for him, “You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the middle of a date.”
And despite her words, Harry seemed to figure out what it was she needed and he dragged his mouth down to her jaw and then attached his lips to her neck and lightly peppered kisses and warm licks down the sensitive skin until he lowered enough that he’d made it to her clavicle, drawing a needy little gasp from her lips.
He backed away to look down at her and she had her lips parted and eyes closed, which made him smile.
She was his.
“And this dress,” he smoothed his hands down from her hips to the bottom hem of the material that landed just above her knee. He pulled the fabric upward, his warm fingers sliding up and under the stretchy cloth until he met her inner thighs, squeezed together, “Why did you do this? Wearing this for him? Baby this dress should only be for me.”
Her breaths deepened and her body grew hot with his hands on her. This was such a bad idea but she didn’t have it in her to stop him. She wanted him. When she opened her eyes and looked at Harry she licked her lips before speaking, “I hoped you’d see it. But I didn’t really think you’d come.”
Harry’s palms splayed against her thighs and continued to push the material up as he smiled at her with a cocky grin, “Wanted me to see it. So you wanted me to be jealous. To see you wearing this slutty thing on a date with another man while I watched. Suppose I deserve that. But you know you’re leaving here with me. Yeah? That’s what you wanted. Gonna show you what you deserve for teasing like this.”
Y/n let out a small whimper when he pushed her legs apart and kept his eyes on hers. His light green eyes were slowly disappearing under his dark pupils. His lids were droopy, and his lips parted as he finally moved his face to hers and nudged at her nose with his before putting her out of her misery and kissing her in a hot, desperate embrace.
She tried to resist but she’d already been a goner and the way he kissed her melted her senses and stamped out her resolve.
She was his.
Harry’s hands continued their path upward and she knew what he was doing, as far gone and mushy as her brain was, she understood his intentions. So she parted her thighs more for his access and Harry panted against her lips, “You want me to touch? Need a little something before you go back out there on your date?”
She nodded after faltering for a second. Her date… She wasn’t sure she could face him after this. She only knew she wanted Harry.
He pushed his fingers over her silky panties and grinned as he continued kissing her, her back pressed into the wall, “Fuck, baby girl. You need Daddy don’t you?”
She groaned and popped her eyes open, nodding the tiniest bit as she watched him use his hand on her, rubbing over her cloth-covered clit. Harry hissed and looked at her with sultry eyes, “Soaked for me, baby. You don’t want to go back out there to him. You need to be taken care of. Can you wait til we get back to your place or do you need it now?”
Harry was serious. He was going to leave with Y/n. Dante would be fine. His check was covered after all.
Y/n let out a shaky breath. Here or at hers? Her place was half an hour away and she was already vibrating with desire. Harry’s words and soft touches and his presence somehow pulled from her a need that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. One that she was certain Dante couldn’t affect.  
“This is crazy,” she breathed out.
Harry pushed his mouth to hers and moved his fingers down to the drenched crotch of her panties pushing them to the side and he keened at the feel of how slick she was under the pads of his fingers.
“Remember how good it was, Y/n? How you moaned and came over and over again? The way you took me when I fucked you.”
Harry was hard as rock in his trousers. This woman was doing things to him. He hadn’t been so determined about anyone in a very long time.
“Yes,” she whispered when he stroked up and down through her labia and then pressed into the hood of her clit.
“And how good we are together. We work, Y/n. This works. I know you know it.”
He plunged two fingers inside as he kissed her mouth. She opened her legs further for him and rocked her hips forward into his hand.
Y/n realized suddenly where they were and what they were doing when a knock sounded on the door, “Let’s go. I need to tell Dante that I’m leaving first.”
Harry was directed to stay outside at the front of the restaurant while Y/n went to the terrace and broke the news to Dante. She felt awful. She really did. Dante was nice. He was attractive. But he wasn’t her type in the end and she was slick between her thighs as she sat down and winced at the feel. The empty ache. She was flushed and her panties were chilled against her skin where it was wet, a result of just having been fingered in the bathroom. But her body was guiding her. She was aching and wanted Harry in her bedroom. Wanted Harry inside of her again.
It was probably a mistake. She’d probably regret this but she only knew one thing. And that was that Dante would never have a chance. Not when she was fantasizing about Harry on a date with him. That wasn’t fair to him, to string him along. So she justified that it was better this way.
.           .           .
Y/n had fully expected that Harry would have a driver or something. But to her surprise, he rented a car. A really nice car. A Mercedes Benz wagon.
She did kind of wish he had a driver, though, so they could sit in the back and that there was one of those partitions that separated them from view. But as it was, she was sitting in the passenger side as Harry drove her to her house.
It was kind of wild to her that Harry Styles was driving her to her house and that once there, in her small residential bungalow, they’d probably wind up having sex. Certainly, they’d wind up having sex.
“I’m sorry I did it this way,” Harry paused with a smirk on his face, “but not that sorry. Worked out in my favor.”
Y/n breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “Yeah, I guess you got your way. I imagine you’re used to that.”
“Heey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.
“It just means you’re probably not used to not getting exactly what you want.”
Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on the road in silence. He was just happy it had worked. He wasn’t sure it would. And yes, he was used to getting what he wanted but he didn’t expect to get everything he wanted. Not all the time anyway.
“My place is pretty small. Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A small backyard. So don’t judge, okay?” She was mostly teasing, feeling quite nervous about what was soon to happen. The state of her home was actually the last thing on her mind.
“Don’t be nervous, love. We’re going to have a great time together.”
Y/n gulped the saliva in her throat and looked ahead toward the road. She knew they’d have a great time together if their last time together was any indicator. In fact, she imagined it might be even better. He was visiting for three days and she had nothing to do other than finish the canvas she’d been working on for the past week. So they’d have a lot of time. To explore and to play. To talk.
She recalled a conversation they had one night over the phone when Harry brought up her pretty, plump bottom, his words still making her blush having never enjoyed anyone calling her plump in any way. But somehow, when Harry said it, it felt sexy. He made her feel sexy. Her curves and her extra bits, her tummy and ass and arms and thighs… they only spent the one night together but he made her feel as if all of her was beautiful.
“Such a pretty, plump bottom like yours… and you’ve never had anal sex before, or anything? My finger was the first to poke inside?” He spoke his words with a smile.
She was already lying down in bed and gently rubbing herself to the sound of his voice and he’d been heavily flirting and suggesting what they’d do together the next time they saw one another.
“No. Have never done anything back there,” she laughed breathily.
“We can change that. I can start by licking your pussy and your ass until you’re so wet and creamy that I can just slip my finger inside your little hole and get you ready for more.”
She moaned lightly at the idea.
He continued, “And once you’re shaking and begging to come I’ll slowly fill you up with my cock so you can finally experience what it’s like.”
Y/n laughed and paused her fingers, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Harry groaned and panted (he was also touching himself), “Oh I would be in heaven to have you any way you wanted. But to be able to be your first experience with that would be amazing. But the question is, Y/n, would you like that?”
She squirmed in the soft black leather seats just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to go that route or not but she figured if he got her loosened up and drippy she probably would very much want that. She felt like he’d make it good. She knew he’d make it good.
Harry noticed the way she shifted and wondered if she was still on edge. He imagined her panties were a mess after what happened in the bathroom. He would have loved to have fucked her then and there but she asked to leave. And he could wait a little longer, though his cock was aching and pushing against the front of his trousers painfully.
Y/n was trying not to eye his crotch. He clearly had an erection. Still. And she knew he was nice and thick and long. Just remembering the way he looked had her thighs clenching together. Yes, she was still very wet in her panties, and knowing that soon he’d be using that thing on her gave her an idea.
She reached her hand over and put her palm on his upper thigh over his pants and Harry quickly glanced down before putting his eyes back on the road. He swallowed thickly. He liked where this was going.
“Gonna help me out a little?”
Y/n smirked and looked up at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt, “Do you want me to?”
Harry scoffed and shot his eyes at her quickly, “Is that a serious question?”
Biting her lip she positioned herself to lean over the leather console and began to undo the leather belt he had on. Harry adjusted his seating and pressed the seat back button to lean back a little to give her more room as she unbuttoned his pants. He parted his lips and let out a labored breath when he felt her palm over him.
He was so warm under her hand, even with the material of his pants covering him. She continued working on opening his pants up when the seatbelt warning dinged.
Harry groaned and rolled his eyes but she continued, not worried at all about the sound. She wanted to pull him out and play with him a little bit.
The road to her house from the restaurant was mostly along a small highway with no stoplights and very little traffic. Which she liked so she could have him out in her hand and no one would pull up next to them and catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Not to mention it was Harry Styles in the car, that would surely get some attention.
When she finally dragged his underwear down enough that she could grasp around him he moaned softly. She loved how he felt in her hand, the way he looked. She pulled from the base of his shaft upward, rolling his foreskin over his frenulum and back down. He was hard and his tip was pink and pretty like his lips.
The ding of the seatbelt warning chimed again as she leaned further over and moved her lips to right above his erect cock. Harry moved his arm away to give her space, before putting his hand on the back of her head. Her hair fell over the exposed skin at the base of his cock before he felt her lick gently over his slit and stroked him slowly as Harry drove down the road toward her home.
It was difficult to put him into her mouth with the console in between them but she had been able to put his tip in past her lips and lick all around him, lapping at his precome as she continued moving her hand in gentle strokes at his shaft.
Harry was panting shallowly and his stomach muscles were contracting. It felt so good to have her mouth and her hand on him. He wished he could look down to see her sucking him off but he had to keep an eye on the road, and with her seatbelt undone (thanks to the reminder every two minutes from the warning chime) he didn’t want to chance anything.
Y/n moaned around his slit and Harry choked out his words, “Fuck, baby. We’re almost there. Gonna give it to you so good when we get to your place.”
And she knew he would too. She wasn’t very experienced. She’d slept with two men before she got married but of all the men who’d fucked her, Harry was far and away the best at it.
Harry pulled into her small driveway, directly behind her Toyota Camry. Tucking himself back into his pants as she adjusted her dress before getting out of his car and plucking her keys from her purse.
“Did he pick you up here at your house?” He pointed toward her car in the driveway. He deduced that if her vehicle was there the date must have come to her home to pick her up.
Y/n paused and it took her a moment to understand what he meant but the realization dawned on her, “Yes. He did.”
Harry nodded, “So he knows where you live? Did you invite him in?”
Sighing she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he really doing this now? “Yes. He came in, stood in the doorway, and looked around while I grabbed my purse. That was it.”
Harry was standing over her with a small frown, “Were you planning on sleeping with him? After the dinner?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What is this, Harry?” She pulled her arms upward before dropping them at her sides in frustration, the keys to her house jangling as she did so.
Putting his hands on her upper arms he slowly rubbed upward, “This is just me wondering what you were up to is all. It’s a good thing I got there in time to stop anything from happening.”
A scoff fell from her lips as she looked up at him, stunned, “No. This is you being jealous.”
Harry shook his head with a cocky grin and brought his left hand up to her neck and pulled her into his chest, “I’d be jealous if you left with him. But he’s nowhere to be seen now is he?”
She felt the small squeeze on her neck as he pushed her bottom gently to the front of his car, his hips connected to hers so she could feel him, “S’just you and me here, though. Isn’t it? You’re wet for me. Not for him,” his soft, warm mouth was suddenly pasted over her jaw and she gasped. It was hard for her head to fight its way out of the labyrinth of mush that he seemed to be so good at leading her into. But he knew that. He loved the way she responded to him.
Harry chuckled, his laugh vibrating off her neck as he tenderly kissed the edge of her parted lips before backing away and grasping her hand to pull her to her front door, “Let’s get inside then. Can’t fuck you out here on the hood of the car for all to see can I?”
Everything was rushed and desperate in her brain. She was shaky putting her key into her door to unlock with Harry right behind her, his hands at her hips, his lips on her neck.
The moment the door was closed and locked Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and frantic. They were both on edge and very much in need of release. Together. Even though he acted as if he had it totally together and he was in charge, he was feeling desperate too with the way his tip was leaky and his cock throbbed in his pants.
“It’s this way,” she panted breathlessly as she pulled his hand to bring him toward her bedroom.
But Harry paused when he saw a large, framed photo hung on the wall. It was of Y/n with a man. Kissing a man. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress and the man was in a tuxedo with the backdrop of a lovely garden and flowers all around.  
“Is… this you?”
Y/n was halted when she whipped her head to look at what he’d seen. She realized instantly what he meant.
“Um. Yes.”
“Are you… married?”
Y/n sighed and let go of Harry’s hand.
Talk about a mood killer.
Chapter 3
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