#E!2 harry x reader

[adriellej]

Rough Days

Warnings: Explicit contents. Unprotected sex. Oral giving and receiving. Vaginal sex. 

Pairings: Harry Wells x Reader.

Word count:

Beginning 1: 2.1K+

Beginning 2: 3.8K+

In total: 4.7K+

A/N: Smutty smut smut. It’s only my second time doing this, so hope it’s okay. Just had a good idea, and there’s probably going to be a part two, where they have to deal with it if you want it? Also, there are two types of beginnings to it. One where Reader is already drunk and Harry finds her, and one where they get drunk together! Have fun! 

Also, unprotected sex is a no-no, bad idea, don’t condone it!

Also GIF's aren't mine!

Reader already drunk beginning:

The past few days had been tough for you. The metas Alchemist was creating kept showing up everywhere, the metas already created by the particle accelerator explosion seemed to try to keep up with Alchemist’s. 

Captain Singh wasn’t making it easy at the precinct. He had benched you because of the lack of sleep and focus you were having, you were acting out over the smallest things. So naturally you had needed some time away from everything. Away from home, away from work, and away from people. 

The team had gone home for the day a few hours ago, and you had made your way to the lounge area of S.T.A.R. labs and the fridge you knew had beers in it. You didn’t quite keep to the beers, you had also managed to find a flask of whiskey and tequila. 

By now you had gotten quite the buzz going, the music was playing from the speakers as you downed yet another shot of tequila. The liquor burned its way down your throat and you scrunched up your nose before biting into a piece of lime and shaking your head at it. 

“Whooo, I should do this more often,” You laughed to yourself. You had always been the type of drunk person who would end up being a happy-go-lucky kind of person. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” A rasped voice pulled you away from your endeavor. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you. Harrison Wells with his black jumper and slick black jeans. His dark hair was slightly ruffled with a few strands sticking out to the sides. His expression was stern yet with a glimpse of amusement. 

“Harryyyyyy, hiii!” You slightly yelled out over the music. “What does it look like I’m doing though?” You questioned him back with a grin on your face as you took a swig of your whiskey. You didn’t wait for his answer as you continued. “I’m having my own little party, and quite honestly I’m having the absolute best time!” You lifted your glass in your hand and made your way over to Harry swaying ever so lightly on your way. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” He looked at you with a little bit of concern in his eyes as he gripped onto your arms to keep you standing upright and not tumbling over. Your hands wound up on his as you realized which kind of muscles he was hiding under that jumper. You squinted your eyes at him and began to make a pout with your lips. It didn’t last long before your lips turned upwards and your eyes were filled with enjoyment and carefreeness. 

“Actually I don’t think so, and you mister,” You said as you poked Harry in the chest hard enough for him to be swayed a bit backward. “Won’t take my fun away,” You finished before breaking out into a full laugh. Harry chuckled at you and your behavior. 

“Actually come to think of it, you should join my fun!” Your lips turned into a smirk as you went to get a glass of whiskey for Harry. “We deserve a bit of fun and downtime,” You said momentarily your voice was laced with seriousness. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” He chuckled with his beautiful smile ever so lightly creating his dimples. “Somebody has to make sure you’re okay,” He continued as he gestured with his hand to you. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fantastic,” You answered as you went over to him with the glass of whiskey in your hand. “Here, drink up my friend!” You spoke attempting to sound serious, just to have your smile betray you. Harry took the glass from you and took a swig of it causing you to smile even wider. 

“So you’re in?” You questioned with a small expectant giggle at the end of it. 

“I’m in,” He says with a wink and a smirk at you, rendering your knees to go soft on you. He takes another swig of the whiskey emptying the glass. He handed it over to you and you gladly took it to get him a refill. 

“We need to get you up to speed with me,” You smiled mischievously at him. You sat down a shot glass in front of him and poured some tequila into it. “Let me borrow your hand,” You said as you held out your own. He does as you tell him and you lick at the back of his hand before pouring some salt on it. “Salt, shot, and lime,” You tell him. He looked at you, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes had darkened at the action you had made.

“Earth to Harry?” You asked as you waved your hand in front of his face, your own face confused with a cocked eyebrow. “Yes?” He cleared his throat before speaking, followed by a big swallow causing his adams apple to bob. 

“Did you hear anything of what I said?” You let out a laugh that came from the bottom of your stomach. 

“Right, yes I did,” He licked the salt from his hand, took the shot, and bit into the lime. His face scrunched up by the taste of the liquor hitting the back of his throat. You made him take quite a lot more, you took some with him to keep your own high buzz going. 

Reader and Harry getting drunk together:

You were walking into S.T.A.R. labs with the rest of the team. It had been a tough fight with the current metas roaming the streets of Central City. Alchemist was creating quite a lot on the way, and every damn meta in this town seemed to be out for blood. 

You threw your backpack on the floor beside the central console of the cortex. You flopped down on a chair in front of the computer, taking your guns out of your holsters and putting them down on the table. 

“I swear Y/N, if one of those goes off on my computer, you’d wish hell was freezing over,” Cisco pointed at you. 

“Oh relax Cisco, the safety is on,” You say as you look at them, realizing that you might have forgotten that in the heat of the moment, or maybe more in the tiredness of the moment. “Or now it is at least,” You mumbled to yourself. 

“What was that?” Cisco asked his eyes squinting at you. “Nothing!” You laughed it off, knowing he would in fact kill you if you ruined his computers. 

“That’s what I thought,” He laughed back at you. 

“You do know he means it right?” Harry spoke with a serious face as he sat down beside you. You looked over at him with amusement in your eyes. 

“Is Harrison Wells afraid of what Cisco might do?” You joked. You thought you were funny, but looking at Harry’s face you thought differently. His eyes were hard as he looked at you. It felt like he was looking right through you. You swallowed thickly at the hard glare he was giving you.

“I’m not afraid of Ramon” His voice was hoarse and low but laced with a hint of worry. Cisco’s computers and satellites were his everything, and having seen it be blown up a few times, both you and Harry knew he would hurt whoever hurt his tech. 

“Well, we’re going home for the day,” Barry and Iris smiled as she spoke. “I’m more than ready to go home and get some sleep. We’ll see you all tomorrow,” She continued and waved at everyone. So did Barry as they left the building. 

“I’m going to follow them. Cisco can you drive me home?” Caitlin asked her friend. Caitlin had had a rough time lately, she didn’t talk much about it, but you knew she would when she was ready for it. 

“Are you coming along too, Y/N?” Cisco asked grabbing his jacket from the console in front of you. 

“Nah, I’ll stay here for a while. I’m gonna see what it is we’re missing with Alchemist and all these new metas that are popping up. Thanks for asking though!” You smiled and gave a thumbs up to let him know you meant it. 

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to go home and rest?” Harry asked beside you with a soft smile. You loved to see him smile, even more because it wasn’t so often he did. 

“No, really it’s all good. I want to be here, no need to go home to an empty apartment anyway,” You spoke as you looked away from him and back to the computers in front of you. 

Harry nodded at you and walked away, probably to go work on his own Alchemist project. You started to type away, going through every piece of evidence you had on Alchemist. 

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the clock. It felt like you had been sitting with it for hours, but there had only been 40 minutes. Realizing that you weren’t going to get much done you walked to the lounge, grabbing two glasses and pouring some whiskey into them.

Turning the corner into Harry’s lab you saw him looking at the clear board with equations on it, his white marker in his hand. You had been right when you thought he would be working.  You knocked at the entrance causing him to turn around and look at you. 

“What?” He asks gruffly and you raise the two glasses of whiskey in your hands. 

“Wanna have a drink with me?” You asked politely entering his workshop. 

“Uh, sure,” His answer was short but held a lot of meaning. He never stopped working, so his saying yes was a win for you. “Any particular reason?” He questioned as you handed him one of the glasses. 

“Can’t we just enjoy a drink without there has to be a reason for it?” You asked cockily with raised eyebrows. It earned you a small laugh from the Earth-Two scientist. You looked at him surprised at his response to it. “Maybe we should do it more often if it earns laughs from you,” You jokingly continued. 

“Don’t count on it,” He replied deeply, though there was still a small smile hiding behind the glass. You raised your glass to him and took a sip of the liquor. The burning sensation was welcoming in your throat. The small interaction you and Harry had was nice. Your life had been a mess lately so when you had emptied your glasses, you had stayed with Harry while he went back to work.  

“Are you just going to sit there for the rest of the night?” He asked looking over his shoulder and back at you. 

“Well actually I’d say yes, but then I thought we could also decide to have our way of resting,” You smiled at him as you took your feet down from his desk and turned all the way towards him. His features looked questioningly at the statement you had made. “We could go drink some more whiskey. Pretty sure we both could need some time away from Alchemist?” The last part you said as a question as you waited for his response. 

“And why would you think that?” Harry’s usual hard look and closed-offness showed. 

“Because Harry, you have been staring at the same equation for the past hour and gotten nowhere,” You told him gesturing to the board in front of him. His stare felt like it could shoot daggers at you for having said that, but you knew he was agreeing with you when a small nod came in your direction.  “Cool, let’s go then,” You said snapping your fingers in the direction of the lounge you had picked up the whiskey in before. 

A few whiskeys in you were both talking a lot more loosly about what was troubling you. As Harry, you weren’t one who cared much for sharing too many feelings or problems. They were your own, and yours to deal with. 

“I could have sworn you had just decided to spend most of your time here, just like Barry usually does now,” Harry stated as he looked slightly surprised at you for your confession. 

“Nope, Captain Singh asked me, or more made me, stay home and take care of myself. He sent my ass home, and I can’t just sit at home doing nothing, so here I am,” You threw your arms out to the side as you took a small bow in the chair. 

It earned you one of the rare laughs from Harry. Either it was the alcohol talking or maybe Harry was actually enjoying himself a little. You decided to go with the latter, making it so much easier to just smile and forget things for a while. 

You stood up to grab the flask of whiskey, only to realize it was empty. You looked through the cupboards to see if you could find something else. A devilish smile crept on your lips as you grabbed the flask and stood up. “Harry!” You yelled out. His body shot towards you at your sudden outburst. “I have found something better than whiskey,” You smiled from ear to ear shaking the tequila bottle in your hand. “We are so going to take some tequila shots!” You laughed out loud at the expression on Harry’s face. 

“No, we are most certainly not,” He replied coldly as he stood up and started to leave, and you knew how you could make him stay. 

“Harry, it’s a task, and you solve tasks right?” He stopped dead in his tracks and you could almost imagine the expression on his face and that joyed you even more. You knew you had won. 

“Fine!” He exclaimed and turned back to you, a few large strides and he was on the other side of the island. 

“Do you know how to?” You asked hesitantly not knowing how much drinking he had done on Earth-Two and in his younger days. “Did you just ask me if I know how to do tequila shots? How old do you think I am?” He said slightly annoyed before he broke out a dimple-filled smile. You broke out into a real fit of laughter before answering him. 

“I’m so sorry Harry, that sounded terrible,” Leaning forwards on the table in front of you, you half smacked yourself in the head when you put it into your hand. 

“C’mon, pour it Y/L/N!” He chuckled as he pushed the shot glass over in your direction. You found the salt and cut out the limes you had found in the fridge. You weren’t quite sure why the team even had this here, but you weren’t about to be mad at it. 

You clinked your glasses together before shooting it down. You both shook your heads and looked at each other, smiles spreading as you continued to pour tequila into your glasses.

“Right, let’s see,” You say with an idea in your head. You licked your own hand as you put it to your neck, you leaned your neck to the side as you drizzled salt on it and the lime in your hand. “Let’s go, Harrison,” You smiled playfully at him, his eyes glistening with just as much playfulness. 

He stepped close to you, your chests touching each other, his hands on your hips. You leaned your head to the side giving him access to lick the salt off of you. His tongue was warm to your skin sending shivers down your spine. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan from escaping your lips. He stayed at your neck a little longer than he needed to and kissed you on the neck as his face left your neck. Downing the shot you had poured him, he looked for the lime and you smiled brightly with it between your teeth. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to catch on to what you wanted. A smirk danced across his lips before crashing them to yours to bite the lime. His lips were soft on yours. He tasted of a mix of tequila, lime, and whiskey. You spat out the lime before going back to kissing him. Your arms snaked around his neck drawing him closer to you. He gladly accepted and deepened the kiss. His tongue slid across your lower lip and you quickly granted him access. 

Your tongue felt like it fit perfectly with his as they danced and explored together. The kiss was filled with need, a hunger, for each other. Damn his an amazing kisser, you thought to yourself as you got completely lost in his intoxicating kiss. You broke apart after a few minutes needing to catch your breaths. 

His crystal blue eyes looked into yours, they were darker than usual, filled with arousal. Your chest was heaving for breaths and Harry pulled away from you. You whined as you lost the heat from his warm body. 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke lowly as he started to pull completely away from you. You grabbed the jumper in your hands and pulled him towards you. “Harry shut up and kiss me again,” You ordered your own eyes filled with lust. It didn’t take long for him to oblige to your command, his hands roaming your entire body. 

He pushed you backward till you reached the countertop and boxed you in between his body and the table. Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks as you pulled lightly at them. A hum escaped his throat as he kissed his way down from your jaw to your ear nibbling lightly at your earlobe before moving down to your neck. 

His kisses left your skin on fire. A burning sensation was starting to grow in your stomach and between your legs. You wanted him. You needed him. 

“Harry,” You whimpered in response to his kisses, licks and sucks. He was sure to leave marks on you. His hand moved in between your legs cubbing the outsides of your cunt, grinding at it with his hand. 

Several moans left your throat involuntarily. You couldn’t help it, this man was doing so much to you. He was humming in response to your moans. His lips went back to yours. You could feel the grin on his lips as he kissed you. 

His hands grabbed around your thighs hoisting you to sit on the countertop, keeping your legs spread to make space for him in between. You locked your legs around his waist pulling him as close to you as you could.

He grinded against you and you met his grinds with your own. You could feel his arousal, rock hard and ready for you. A groan left Harry’s lips at your movements and a smirk appeared on your lips. This time it was you breaking the kiss to make it to his neck leaving open-mouthed kisses. As you bit slightly into his skin, an animalistic groan left his throat, as you left a mark on him. 

“Either you stop and we go to my room, or continue and I’ll take you right here,” His voice was low and lust-filled as he spoke. The words hit you as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Oh I’m not nearly done, Harrison Wells,” you mused his name and it seemed to have the effect you wanted it to. Harry gripped your hips tightly and pulled you closer to him as his lips crashed with yours. The kiss was filled with need as you were both losing control of yourselves. 

One of his hands traced under your shirt and up to your breast and grabbed it. Your body ached for him as your chest shot forward at the feeling of his fingers pinching your nipple. His hand let go of your breast only to discard the clothing in front of it. He kissed down your neck and down to your chest and sucked lightly at your nipple as his other hand traced up your thigh toward your wet spot. 

“Oh god, Harry,” You moaned out at the heat pooling inside of you. 

“Mmh, what?” He looked down at you with a big smirk on his lips, his normally blue eyes almost completely dark from lust. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” You looked up at him whining. “But now we’re at it, you have too many clothes on,” You smiled innocently up at him as your hands glided toward the hem of his jumper. He chuckled deeply before lifting his arms up to discard his jumper. 

Your mouth fell open as your eyes roamed his torso. His chiseled muscles showed as he flexed a little under your stare. Clothes did him dirty. 

“My eyes are up here Y/N,” He pulled you from your trance. Your cheeks flushed as you looked down shyly. His fingers went under your chin to make you look up at him. “Like what you see?” He muses with amusement.

“I mean, have you looked yourself in the mirror?” You spoke as your eyes darted down to his chest again. Your tongue darted over your lips as you took all of him in again. “How can I not like what I see?” You continued your own eyes darkening more. 

Your legs tugged him into you again as your lips met his again. You were fighting for dominance, pouring every feeling of lust and need into the kiss. Your fingers were digging into his skin at his shoulders. 

Harry pulled you down from the countertop, unbuttoning your jeans, not once breaking the kiss. You shimmied out of your jeans and panties and stood completely nude in front of him. This time it was Harry’s turn to get tranced, licking his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, Harrison,” You mused the same response he had had to your staring. His laugh filled the lounge as his hands found your hips again. “What? No smart comment?” You chuckled. “Nope, not this time. You look beautiful,” His smile was genuine, his eyes had gone soft again, and you felt your cheeks burning from his admiration. He leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was different from the others, this was more caring and more emotional. 

Your hands went to his shoulders moving down his chest. He flexed under your touch and deepened the kiss again as your hands found the button on his jeans. It didn’t take long for him to discard them. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but dart down to his erection. He sure did hide a lot under those clothes; because holy hell he was well-equipped. The burning desire inside of you took over as you went down to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes. 

A smirk playing at your lips as you licked from the base of his cock and up to the tip. A deep rumble came from Harry’s chest as his eyes closed shut and his head leaned back. Your tongue swirled around the tip, licking off the precum before taking his cock into your mouth. You bobbed your head in rhythm with your hand at the base. Your tongue swirled around the tip every time you came back up, before taking as much as you could of him in again. 

“Y/N,” Harry moaned out. “Fuck, it feels so good,” his breathing became more panting as he took every bit of pleasure you were giving him. You could feel him tense under your touch and you bobbed your head a little faster, drawing him closer to his release. 

He took in a sharp breath as he pulled away from you. 

“Harry, why did you do that? I almost had you,” You looked up at him while pouting. 

“Because when I cum I want to be in you,” He took hold of your hand helping you up and he instantly pushed you back to the countertop. His lips find yours again, his hands on your hips, lifting you back up to sit. His head moved down your chest, down to your stomach, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his way. 

Your own breathing became quicker at the thought of what he was about to do. Your hand tangled itself in his hair as he kissed the inner side of your thigh. The feeling of his mouth leaving shivers going up and down your body. Moans escaped your lips as he moved closer to your cunt. 

“Mmh, you’re so wet for me,” He breathed as his tongue licked through your folds, leaving a fire burning inside of you. His tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves. The pleasure coursing through your veins, the feeling of heat pooling in your stomach, alarming you that you were close. 

“Harry, I’m-,” You choked out, one hand gripping the countertop so tightly your knuckles were going white. 

“Cum for me, princess,” Harry focused more on your clit and it didn’t take long before you were coming undone for him. He lapped all of your orgasm before coming back up to your head and giving you a chaste kiss. 

“Well you certainly know what you’re doing,” You breathed heavily coming down from your high, a proud smirk played on Harry’s lips. Your hands reached around his neck and you pulled him close to you. Your kiss wasn’t chaste in any way, it was lust-filled and hard. You could taste your own orgasm on his wet lips. One of your legs wrapped around his body, pulling him even closer to you. “I need you Harry,” You begged him. You needed him inside of you. You were hungry for him. All of him. 

Harry aligned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you. Moans escaped both of your lips as he let you adjust to him. He slowly started thrusting into you. Controlled, slow moves were dragging out the pleasure already building in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around me. So perfect,” He breathes into the base of your neck. One of your hands was holding onto his shoulder and the other clawing at his back. 

“Harry, I- I won’t last long,” You were moaning and panting under him. 

“Neither will I,” He groans out, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier. Your orgasm builds up quickly in you. Leaving you screaming out his name as you draw closer and closer. A few more quick and hard thrusts leave you both coming down and hard. 

He stayed with his head dipped into the crook of your neck, your hand started drawing circles at his back. He draws back from you and pulls out of you. His dark hair was messy from sweat and your hands, and you only saw the most handsome man you had ever seen. 

A big goofy smile played on your lips and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, as your breathing was slowing down again. 

“What?” He smiled and shifted a little on his feet as his cheeks turned a shade of pink. 

“Oh, nothing, you’re just very handsome,” You spoke looking him deeply in his eyes. He leaned in to give you another kiss. He broke apart from you, but you continued to peck his lips in between words. “Also. You. Just. Rocked. My. World,” Your hands were cupping his face as you held onto him. 

“Well, why don’t we go rock it some more,” He returned your goofy smile with a wink as he dragged you with him to his room. 

Your eyes slowly started to flutter open and you groaned out at the bright light hitting your face. You rubbed your eyes with one hand as you felt the hangover headache hitting you. It wasn’t until you tried to move that you realized that there was someone beside you. 

You turned your head slowly as to not disturb whoever it was holding onto your side. 

You didn’t exactly expect to see a certain dark-haired grumpy scientist beside you. 

“Oh god, what have I done?” You said to yourself, panic coursing through your veins, causing a pair of blue eyes to open and look at you.

Tag list:

@hiddenwritingsintheworld, @brianllamawrites, @sarawritestories

[koiiiiijiii]

M A S T E R L I S T (editing)

navigation with my thoughts

WINDBREAKER

general headcanon | may insert any char.

jay jo

1) general headcanons

2) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

3) random

hong yoo bin

1) friend’s sister (dom’s sis! reader)

2) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

3) x gyaru! reader

4) love trope headcanons

5) sabbath x middle east! reader (plat.)

6) random

7) nightly rituals

sung kwon

1) perverted habits

dom kang

1) love trope headcanons

2) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

3) falling asleep

4) nsfw (links probably inactive)

5) tiktoks

min u

1) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

2) random

shelly

1) nsfw headcanons

2) tiktoks

3) x gyaru! reader

4) random

joker

1) thwarted date

2) x hummingbird crew member! reader

3) nsfw (links incl)

4) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

5) nsfw (links probably inactive)

6) sabbath x middle east! reader (plat.)

7) random

wooin

1) platonic (x sis! reader)

2) peculiar thoughts (x drunk reader)

3) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

4) possessive wooin (lil bit yan! wooin)

5) falling asleep

6) nsfw (links probably inactive)

7) possessive!wooin short scenario

8) x vinny sis! reader headcanons

9) tiktoks

10) love trope headcanons

11) sabbath x middle east! reader (plat.)

12) random

13) nightly rituals

hyeok kwon

1) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

2) love trope headcanons

3) neighbors to lovers

4) sabbath x middle east! reader (plat.)

5) random

monster

1) computer dates

2) nsfw headcanons

hwangyeon choi

1) love trope headcanons

2) nsfw headcanons | pt. 2 |

3) my honest opinion on him

4) threesome

sangho choi

1) nsfw headcanons

2) falling asleep

3) tiktoks

4) random

5) short sketch

juhwan

1) sharks and orcas

2) tiktoks

3) random

4) perverted habits

owen knight

1) love trope headcanons

2) falling asleep

3) nsfw (links probably inactive)

4) jealousy

5) tiktoks

harry shepherd

1) love trope headcanons

2) nsfw headcanons

3) tiktoks

4) random

noah

1) nsfw headcanons

2) tiktoks

LOOKISM

ru songs series

ru songs + lookism boys (kim joon goo)

ru songs + lookism boys (gitae kim)

ru songs + lookism boys (kim gimyung)

ru songs + lookism boys (park jonggun)

ru songs + lookism boys (na jaegyeon)

park jonggun

1) nightly rituals

ma taesoo

1) nightly rituals

2) nsfw

others

multiple characters disgusting headcanons

jake kim x reader x samuel seo

daniel x reader x jay (short sketch)

[tonysbed]

bad idea, right?

Charles x Fem!ex!reader

Summary: Charles and you break up but just can’t stay away from each other.

A/n: Another Charles social media au 🤭

Also, I love Alex so no hate to my girl okay 😞😘

-

E!News

liked by f1fan, y/nbabe and 729.689 others

E!News After Break up with long term boyfriend, Y/n was spotted in Harry Styles car crying. Find out how the it couple broke up in the link in our bio!

user727 nooooo

userboo EXCUSE ME

Y/nbabe WHAT?WITH WHO? IM SORRY

leclercfan16 Broke up and hopped onto the next guy. What a whore

y/nmywife shut the fuck up.Y/n and harry were friends BEFORE she dated charles

user57 dude what

-

E!News

liked by f1fan, y/nbabe and 968.629 others

E!News Charles Leclerc was spotted with a new girl just 3 weeks after the break up with his long term girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n. Was this the reason for their sudden split? Click the link in our bio to find out!

y/niswifey the resemblance between y/n and his new girl💔

user46 He’s got a type..

user19 this hurts more than my own break up istg

Y/ncharlesendgame god lord

User59 I just wanna cry.

User70 who’s she?

User402 This hurts but the fire album we’re gonna get gives me hope for SOMETHING

user29 She’s gonna roast him😭

y/nmylove oh he’s so done lol

-

y/ny/l/n

liked by taylorswift, arthur_leclerc and 2,380,296 others

y/ny/l/n Burned.Out now on all streaming platforms

tagged harrystyles

taylorswift 🔥❤️

liked by y/ny/l/n

zendaya amazing ❤️

y/n/l/n love you 🐨

y/niswifey OH ITS GOING DOWN

user68 “Your new girl is my clone” MOTHER OMG

userlol she knew she ate

y/nbabe I mean they do look a lot alike.. But we haven’t seen them since like 4 months 👀

-

E!News

liked by f1fan, y/niswifey and 729.528 others

E!News Charles Leclerc and Y/n Y/l/n were spotted after one of his races, 11 months after their break up! Are we witnessing a comeback? Click the link in our bio for more!

y/niswifey pleaseeeeee omggg

f1.cl16 I want them back so baddddd

user89 Id sell my soul to know what they were talking about

-

y/n posted a story

-

y/ny/l/n

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 2,399,268 others

y/ny/l/n are you ready, nyc?

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are turned off

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y/nupdates

liked by y/niswifey, cl16fan and 280.791 others

y/nupdates CHARLES AND CARLOS AT Y/N‘S SHOW TONIGHT OMGGGGG

y/niswifey are they back together now? Are they not?😭

user89 maybe we’ll find out tonight 😦

use.r29 His mom and arthur were also spotted there😭

y/niswifey Oh she be having a family reunion 👀

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y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift and 1.372.829 others

y/n love performing w ya 🩷

harrystyles me too👀🩷

user68 what’s happening? I know he is co writer but AHHEEJWVEJWFZ

user58 I like them but i need charles and y/n back istg

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y/nupdates

liked by fifan, y/niswifey and 639.369 others

y/nupdates Y/n was spotted being super cozy with her co-writer and friend Harry Styles

user68 WHAT

y/nishot help, I'm still at the restaurant

user57 nonononono, MOTHER WHY

user29 I love harry but i just don't think he's a good fit for her

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charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 599.268 others

charles_leclerc Im no longer your muse 🛥️

arthur_leclerc 🔥

user18 why do I have a feeling the caption is directed 🌚

y/nbabe first it seems as if he and Y/n get back tg and then she gets w harry.Im so confused rn😭

f1fannnn she never said that they’re back together 🤷🏼‍♀️

y/nbabe still feels weird smh

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Part 2 will be uploaded soon!

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing It Out (‘Seeing Her’ Part Two)

summary — george weasley might (maybe) have a small crush. too bad she’s totally oblivious.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i don’t own harry potter property, i don’t own this gif, and i don’t edit because i’m lazy. also, argyle & dicken’s isn’t real, i made it up.

warnings — everyone is stupid. maybe ooc.

read part one here!

She noticed him staring at her in potions. Well, she never proved it was her he was looking at, but she had a suspicion. Every time she would look up to transcribe the notes or recipes Snape described, she could see a mass of tangerine hair fly forward just a few desks ahead of her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Why would she? But then she noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye before class one day. That look alone made her realize two things:

1. The looks she thought she may have been receiving were no coincidence and

2. The one staring was George Weasley

“I’m scared. Seriously, he’s planning something,” she confided as she and her friend, Meredith, began to stroll from dinner to their dorm, “He’s been watching me for a few weeks now. Something is going on.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Meredith giggled.

“I’m serious! When the Weasley twins set their sights on you, you’re dead in the water,” she guffawed.

“Or…” Meredith trailed off with a smile.

“Or?” She turned to her with an inquisitive look.

“Perhaps you tickled his fancy.” Meredith shimmied her shoulders suggestively.

“I tickled who and what?” Her eyes widened as she felt a laugh bubble at the back of her throat.

“I’m saying that maybe he keeps staring because he fancies you,” Meredith explained.

“George Weasley?” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened slightly, “You’re mad.”

“Not mad, intuitive,” Meredith tapped her head, “You’re cute! You’re smart! Everyone in this bloody school ought to be head over heals for you!” She shook her almost comedically.

“Alright!” She laughed, “I get it! I’m fabulous!”

“Good,” Meredith said with a large smile, “Now, think about talking to him.”

“We haven’t disposed of the ‘the twins are going to put fireworks in my pillowcase’ theory,” she shook her head.

“I’ve disposed of it. It’s gone.” Meredith pretended to throw something before wiping her hands together, “But seriously, talk to him if you’re interested, y’know? He’s not too bad on the eyes – and I doubt he’s all too evil.”

“I guess I’ll think about it,” she shrugged, “How’s Emma going?”

“It’s – shit, I left it in the Great Hall,” Meredith groaned, “Wait here for me, alright?”

“I’ll wait an eternity for you!” She called after the girl.

“Put those moves on someone else, would you?” Meredith winked before disappearing down the hall.

George Weasley. He was popular, maybe not as much as his twin brother, but he was one-half of the dynamic pranking duo. She’d seen them before; they watched people, and so did she. They always observed their prey before attacking — but their targets were never just innocent bystanders. She’d like to think she was innocent. She’d like to think a lot of things, though, and not all of them were true.

Meredith was taking a while. Was she right? Was he interested in her? The thought seemed silly, foreign. It was like a honey bee finding a hidden daisy in a room full of tulips. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a nice thought. A flash of orange alerted her to the balcony in front of her. Funnily enough, standing at the edge, staring out to the floor below them, were the Weasley twins – and George was staring at her.

It was curious. This was the first time they’d ever connected eyes, yet it felt entirely natural. Maybe it was because she’d stared a thousand people in the eyes, or maybe this was different. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and for a moment, time was able to exist on a different plane entirely. God, was it cheesy. She’d read about this before; the lovers’ first meeting. Wait, lovers? They aren’t lovers, they don’t even know each other, besides – oh God. In a flash, something fell from George’s hand, flying down from the balcony and directly onto poor Professor Flitwick’s head. The thing burst ceremoniously and a powder fizzled around the man. He batted at himself in confusion as she looked on at him with horror. His hair was entirely green.

What the bloody hell was that?

She clutched her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray — the copy that had just been knocked from her hands — in her sweaty palms. Today had been going great, spectacular even. Her dreams had wiped any memory of possible crushes from her mind. She woke up early, found a matching pair of socks on her first try, and was ready to pick up a new book. Meredith had shoed her out of the dorms when she attempted to wake the girl; she preferred sleep over food. So, it was just her and Dorian who’d made it out to the stairs when she was pushed (nudged?) to the ground.

By George Weasley, of course.

She’d wondered if this was a part of his scheme for a moment. It would be the perfect time to catch her off guard — bright and early before she’d even wiped the crust from her eyes. But then she saw his face and the shock that drew over his features. He certainly didn’t mean to bump into her. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

They conversed in an awkward manner, but managed to hit one another only once more. The real issue was the end of the conversation:

“See you in potions, George!”

It was meant to be friendly, a sort of peace offering if he was still trying to pull off something dodgy. And, of course, it was friendly enough until she realized she had never talked to him before. She sounded like a stalker. A bad stalker at that. She let her mind race as she rushed off to the Great Hall, hoping to not see the boy again before she got there.

It was a dragging, near exhausting wait until potions. Her nerves were so shot that, even if she calmed down, they would still leave a searing imprint under the surface of her skin. By lunch, she’d decided to try to calm herself. Surely he’d forget before then. Surely it would all resolve itself. Surely, she thought to herself as she pushed into the potions’ lab, there was–

He was sitting in her chair.

Meredith was late, unable to save her, and George was sitting at her table.

Her first move was to take cautious steps toward her destination. She knew well enough that this confrontation was unavoidable (or maybe she’d just built it up in her mind too much). She would just grit her teeth and bear it, though, because the only other alternative was to flee Hogwarts entirely.

“Hey!” He’d seen her, and she froze. She was only a step or two away from her seat, of course he saw her.

“Hi,” she responded with less grandeur. He stood in front of her, slicking his hands against his slacks as he smiled.

“Sorry about this morning,” his grin damn near sparkled, “I only do that sort of thing on the field usually.”

“Right,” she nodded. He was standing right in front of her seat, trapping it with his lanky body.

“Yeah,” his confidence stuttered momentarily, “Uh, your book. How is it?”

“Dorian Gray?” She questioned, receiving a nod, “Oh, it’s alright. A couple blokes doing a lot of talking.”

“Any puke?” George cocked his head.

“There’s blood,” she replied.

“Fluid is fluid,” he shrugged. There was another hesitation before he spoke again:

“I noticed you read a lot – muggle books, I mean. It’s interesting,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking about picking up a muggle book, but I don’t know where to start.”

So this was it. Weeks of stares and stilted interactions because of her obsession. She let out an audible sigh of relief. Any ounce of fear or tension drained from her body, and in its place, a peace rooted itself. Apparently, all it took to crack her shell was the mention of books.

“Oh, sure!” She spoke, her lips curling into a smile, “If you tell me what you fancy in a story I could find something you’d enjoy.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned, “Maybe I could tell you this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he perked up suddenly, “There’s that muggle book shop near the outside of town — Argyle and Dicken’s? You could help me find something. Maybe we can go for butterbear after?”

There was nothing Jane Austen could have done to prepare her for an offer like this. No romance novel she’d ever read could help her. She couldn’t reply with something witty, or cute, or sultry. She couldn’t wink or do something flirtatious. All she was capable of doing was giving him a near-dumbfounded look whilst attempting to close her partially agape mouth. George Weasley wanted a little more than just a recommendation.

“She’d love to.” A feminine voice spoke from behind her. Meredith, somewhat winded and somewhat late, swooped in beside her to press a metaphorical hand to her jaw.

“Love to,” she repeated, though a little less confident. George seemed to appreciate the answer anyways, giving a quick nod of greeting to Meredith before smiling back at the other girl.

“Outside the castle at noon this Sunday work?”

“It, yeah, yes, it would work.” She nodded vigorously.

“Wicked,” he chuckled lightly, “It’s a da–“

“Get to your seats.” Professor Snape’s deep voice commanded. She, as well as Meredith, wasted no time shuffling past the boy to their chairs. George moved, though, only after he hesitated a moment. The potions lesson began unceremoniously, and she couldn’t help but look over to Meredith as Snape’s monotonous voice consumed the classroom.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes still wide.

"That was you getting yourself a date." Meredith whispered her reply happily.

A date. With George Weasley – the same George Weasley she had thought to be plotting against her, or at least hoping for her downfall. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as the lesson went on.

A date.

With George Weasley.

hey guys, quick little note: i’m going to be starting a tag list so it’s easier to let people know when i post. if you’re interested in joining, comment a 🐝 on this post so i know who to add. alright, love u guys, toodles!

[cambion-companion]

Hi I’ve spent the whole day in a&e (and likely being admitted to the ward woohoo) and the only thing that’s got me through it is stronggg painkillers and your aemond stories so thank you for that. Do you have any more soft aemond with pregnant wife left in you to get me through the rest of my time here???

I thought I would do a part 2 of sorts for the pregnant!reader when she got in the way of Jace's punch during The DinnerTM. It's called "Don't lay a hand on her" on my masterlist under Dad Aemond.

Aemond x pregnant!reader | Aemond gets scared the baby has been hurt | no real danger just reader experiencing some pain and trying to keep Aemond from losing his mind | protective dad/husband Aemond

A sudden sharp pain in your abdomen had you clutching the armchair for support, your gasp of pain not going unnoticed by your husband.

Aemond crossed the room to you in three strides, clasping your elbows with sturdy hands and helping you straighten. "What is wrong? Where is the pain?" Aemond's hand rested atop yours against your pregnant belly. "Is it our baby?" You could already see the stormclouds of anger beginning to darken his face.

"I-ack!" You winced again, trying to downplay the pain as a feeling of panic started to build in your chest. "I'm experiencing mild cramping, that's all."

"It's that Strong bastard's doing."

"Aemond."

"I'll rip his limbs off for this."

"Aemond." You had to seize his elbow to keep him from departing there and then. "Please don't, you'll only make it worse." You let out another strangled cry, Aemond's attention momentarily diverted as your knees buckled under you.

He swore loudly, catching you before you could hit the ground.

You grimaced up at him, his face had lost all the color that remained. "Mind your language, my husband. We don't want the baby learning bad habits before they're born."

"Now is not the time for jest, my love." Aemond guided you to sit upon the sofa, his hand never leaving your stomach. "I will fetch the maester, then I will decide what to do with Jacaerys."

Aemond must have run all the way to the maester's quarters by the speed with which he returned, the harried old man close on his heels, hair mussed and shoes barely on his feet.

The maester fussed over you for many minutes, muttering to himself whilst Aemond paced in front of the doorway.

"Well?" He finally asked, impatiently hovering over the maester's shoulder. "Is she alright? Is the baby?"

You made eye contact with the old man briefly before turning your gaze to your husband's worried face. The maester rose and brushed off his hands on his robe. "There appears to be some trauma, bruising has already begun to form on parts of her body. However, I do not calculate there will be any lasting damage to the baby."

"Bruising?" Aemond seemed a little less tense around his shoulders, but his lilac eye was still aflame with anger.

"Yes, my prince." The maester confirmed. "It will most likely heal in a couple weeks. She should rest for a suggested period of...my prince, where are you going?"

"Aemond!" You called after him, but your husband had already stormed from the room. You sighed, sharing a look with the maester. "This isn't good. Maybe you should have omitted the 'bruising' part."

The maester had long since excused himself and retreated from your chambers before you heard a scuffling and muffled shouting coming from the hallway. You grimaced, conjuring images of what was coming in your imagination.

The door opened and Aemond entered holding a ruffled-looking Jacaerys by the back of his neck like some wayward puppy. The younger boy was struggling against his uncle's iron grip, Aemond shoved him into the room causing Jace to nearly fall on his face in front of where you sat.

"Aemond, is this truly necessary?" You straightened, holding your swollen belly protectively with both hands.

"Necessary." Aemond growled, walking menacingly around to face his nephew. "And long overdue."

Jace looked on the verge of fleeing the room, his brown eyes swiveled between you and Aemond with several conflicting emotions: fear, anger and perhaps guilt.

"Apologize." Aemond commanded, his voice holding the promise of violence. "It will do you some good to at last take responsibility for your actions."

"You aren't my father, I don't answer to you." Jace snapped, quickly taking several steps back as Aemond advanced on him, unsheathing his knife.

"Aemond..." You warned but he wasn't listening.

"It is a pity I have to take upon myself the role of teaching you common courtesy, then. Welp." Aemond hissed through clenched teeth. "Inflicting pain on a pregnant woman and you cannot so much as say you're sorry."

"My parents will hear about this. Daemon will hear about this." Jacaerys stood his ground this time, even as Aemond pressed into his space, looking down his nose at his nephew.

"I welcome it." Aemond twirled his dagger meaningfully before Jace's face. "Now. Will you apologize to my wife for the injuries you inflicted, or will I need to encourage you?"

Jace shared one last glare with his uncle before turning his eyes to your face. He breathed out harshly through his nose. "I am sorry." He gave you a miniscule bow before looking to Aemond with loathing. "There. Is that good enough for you or would you have me flog myself as well?"

Aemond tilted his head as if considering something, his gaze narrowing on Jace's face. "That won't be necessary." He turned his silver head away, sheathing his dagger.

You were about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then Aemond struck.

With a movement as sharp and precise as a striking snake Aemond swung a fist, landing a heavy blow across Jacaerys' cheek, sending the boy falling back onto the floor.

"Aemond, no!" With difficulty you rose to your feet, Aemond held out his arm, motioning for you to stay back as he positioned himself between you and Jace.

Jacaerys was groaning and cursing in pain, his hand covering his face, blood from his nose dripping soiling his tunic. "I think you broke my nose!" He staggered to his feet, retreating to the doorway. "You'll pay for that tenfold mark my words!"

"That's right, run away bastard." Aemond jeered after him as Jacaery's fled the room, still clutching his face. "You consider yourself worthy of a dragon? Injuring a pregnant woman and fleeing a fight?" Aemond strode to the doorway, still flinging insults at his nephew. "You are craven and an embarrassment to the Targaryen name!"

"Aemond that is quite enough." You sank back upon the sofa, exhausted from the day's drama. "Why couldn't you have let his parents handle it?"

Aemond lingered at the doorway, staring hard into the now-empty hall. You heard him sigh before he re-entered the room, shutting the door and bolting it behind him. "Those bastards have gotten away with everything since they were children." He came to you.

You opened your knees so he could kneel between them, his hands coming to rest atop your belly.

"They suffer no consequences, nor do their parents. They are able to do whatever they please while we are expected to grin and bear it." You could hear the bitterness in Aemond's voice, his eye holding a faraway expression.

You cupped your hand against his cheek, bringing his focus back to you. "Thank you." You said earnestly, leaning forward until your noses touched. "It is comforting having you at my side."

"At your side." Aemond turned his head, kissing your palm gently. "At you back. Before you. I would burn the world to protect you and our little one."

Your gaze became sad, your eyes flitting to the drops of blood still upon the stone floor. "You might have to."

Aemond pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his mouth brushing yours as he spoke. "Then it will burn."

[r2d2lover]

5 Galleons Pt. 2

Pairing: Fred Wealey x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Fluff and angst with smut in this part, slight praise kink, blowjobs, unprotected sex, PIV sex, Fred bets that he can bed you by the end of the week. Cheesy Amortentia bit. Honestly was just a brain dump of a Fred scenario I've been wanting to write.

Summary:

The Hufflepuff Princess becomes the focus of Fred Weasley’s newest dare.

---

This is posted on Tumblr combining Chapters 1+2 and Chapters 3+4 for easy reading.

Fred cursed the moment the game ended, watching all the flags around the Quidditch Pitch turn yellow in Hufflepuff's favor. McLaggen was nowhere as good of a player as Ron was, even though Fred would rather die than admit that to his own brother. It was obvious after this embarrassing game that ended 60-320. He watched McLaggen miss each Hufflepuff Bludger because he was too busy telling the rest of the team how to play. However, Fred was equally distracted, watching you zip around as Seeker as you weaved between the other players in pursuit of the Golden Snitch. He had a whole plan about how he was going to lead you back to his room under the watchful eye of McLaggen. Now in the locker room, he refrained himself for punching him out for costing Gryffindor the game and instead looked forward to relishing in being 5 galleons cheaper the next day. Fred just had to get creative. He swore he caught you staring at him while he was redoing the laces to his uniform pants before the game started, but you looked away before he could acknowledge you from across the Pitch.

Luckily, Harry kept the post-game talk brief, but Fred found it easy to slip out at the last minute to take a shower and change into clean clothes for the Hufflepuff party. He expected very little of the experience, just looking forward to seeing their famed Seeker. He descended the spiral staircase that lead to the Hufflepuff common room, sighing at the fact that it was in the basement. Earlier that day, Fred had grabbed a first year Hufflepuff and coerced him into giving Fred the common room password by offering him a free Skiving Snackbox. Fred was determined to walk into the common room unscathed and with a proud look on his face for her. He loved watching her melt into an uncharacteristically nervous mess around him. She was even changing him a little bit. Fred recalled the other day in Potions when he told her that her perfume was the only thing he could smell in the Amortentia. It wasn't a complete lie; he also smelled a faint scent of old books and grassy leather. He thought it was probably because the first time he met the Hufflepuff Princess was during a Quidditch practice in their first year and he spent the rest of his years trying to uncover her secrets. When Fred finally reached the unsuspecting barrels that hid the Hufflepuff common room, he reached the middle barrel and gave it a careful five knocks. The wall dissolved, revealing loud music and even louder cheers. Fred smiled to himself before entering the Hufflepuff common room, ready to see her.

---

You've taken a sip from something your best friend brewed, trusting her because she was the Potions professor's favorite. "It's not alcohol," she had promised, giving you a large mug of the liquid. It sure felt like Firewhiskey, giving the same warming feeling. However, instead of hiccuping or feeling sleepy like you usually did after taking sips of Firewhiskey, you felt on top of the world. It didn't help that the entire common room was chanting your name because of your winning save. Nothing could ground you in that moment, not even Fred, who sauntered through the common room doors untouched by vinegar. He immediately spotted you because you decided to stand on the middle table waving at people, a reckless thing that your friend was surely going to tease you about later. Fred could barely hide his amusement as he made his way to he table, offering you a helping hand down. 

"Is this what you're like to the Hufflepuffs? Maybe I should beg for a house transfer," Fred leaned in close, moving your hair to the side. "And you let your hair down."

"It's out of pity," You bit your lip, fixated on the way Fred was showing off his forearms in his rolled up uniform shirt. "That game was absolutely terrible for Gryffindor. Here, take a sip of this."

You offered Fred the cup you were drinking from, which he took gladly. You lead him to a couch and he refused to give you your cup back. A second year Hufflepuff quickly gave you a new cup and you laughed. You could get used to this. Other people from your house came by to comment on how good the game was to Fred, who just laughed and blamed McLaggen for costing Gryffindor their spot in the finale. Others gave you raised eyebrows at Fred's arm that was thrown across your shoulders, which you didn't even notice at first. Whatever liquid your best friend had made was truly working its magic. You decided to interrogate Fred on his newfound obsession with you.

"So what's with the sudden attention?" You tilted your head back to make eye contact with Fred. He had that same amused face from earlier.

"What do you mean?" But you could tell from his eyes he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Our entire time at Hogwarts, you've barely talked to me, but now you show interest. What are you playing at?" You squinted at him, hoping that Fred would crack. He simply took another sip of your drink coolly and shrugged.

"I'm not playing at anything. I just didn't know how to get the mighty Hufflepuff Princess to fall," You rolled at your eyes at his fixed grin. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper. "From Quidditch practice our first year, I've always wondered what it is that makes you tick."

You flinched when Fred placed a hand on your exposed thigh. You didn't realize how far your skirt was riding up. He squeezed lightly, laughing at how your stuttering again. You took a deep breath and moved his hand back to his own lap.

"That's such a lie. Everyone knows you were pining after Angelina Johnson since our first year," You said mockingly, regrettably out of your drink. You decided the let the liquid settle instead of getting more, already feeling extroverted and talkative. 

"Hm. Do I sense jealousy?" Fred tilted your chin to look at him and your chest felt tight. You kept eye contact with him until you made the fatal mistake of dropping your gaze to his lips. With a swift movement that you could barely process, your lips touched his. You were emboldened by the potion. Fred quickly set down his cup, using his now free hand to cup your face. You heard an excited hum come from Fred, who pulled you into a deeper kiss. It was hungry. Desperate, even. He tasted just like the potion you both had been drinking, laced with a metallic tinge that came from an injury he sustained earlier in the Qudditch game.

"I'm jealous of nothing," You murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss. Your heart was undoubtedly racing. It felt like the entire common room went silent and still. After the kiss, you felt like the entire common room was watching you, heightening your nerves. Fred grabbed your shaking hands, pulling it around his neck. This time, he leaned in for a kiss and you unconsciously tangled your fingers into the back of his hair. The rest of the world melted away into Fred's lips. You secretly liked that he knew what he was doing, biting at your bottom lip for entrance. 

"Somewhere," You said breathlessly between kisses. "More private."

Fred obliged quickly, letting you lead him up to your private prefect quarters.

---

"Who knew you were so naughty?" Fred teased as you fumbled with the keys to your room. You were the obvious choice for prefect since you've started Hogwarts and you worked towards the title for the added responsibility, but the best perk by far was your own room. Fred didn't waste time once you were able to open your door. He pinned you against the wall immediately, kissing you deeper than he did in the common room. He slid a hand between your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt with finesse so that he could feel your curves. You were still a little tense, feeling inadequate against Fred's knowledgable hand movements. You had only done this once before with an older Ravenclaw from your Arithmancy class late last year, so luckily he was gone before the rest of the school could find out about your escapade. This time, there was no hiding from the way that you hungrily dragged Fred up the prefect stairs. You didn't care if it was out of character for you. You were having dirty thoughts about this weekend ever since Fred made his bet and said he could only smell your perfume in the Amortentia. Your fingers quickly worked to unbutton his white uniform top, earning a smile from Fred against your kiss. You rid him of his shirt and he tried to do the same for you, but you were in a sweater vest. 

Fred groaned when you started undoing his belt, fingers grazing the top of his boxers. "Take off something," Fred pleaded, breaking the kiss so that he could watch you undress. You popped your sweater vest over your head and starting undoing your button down.

"Merlin, are you trying to kill me?" He sat back on his elbows on your bed, absolutely reeling from the fact that you had forgone a bra.

"I forgot to put one on after the game," You said softly, stepping out of your skirt. You met Fred at your bed, giving him a kiss before taking his pants all the way off. You pushed his legs all the way on to the bed, climbing in between his thighs. Fred watched bewitched at the sight of you about to go down on him. You gave him a smirk before reaching down to his hard cock, giving it a few pumps while leaning up to kiss him. He groaned in satisfaction and could barely contain himself when you kissed down his neck to his naval, finally placing a kiss on his sensitive head. You made sure to look up at him before you grazed your tongue along his shaft, making him jump a bit. You proceeded taking his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and letting your tongue loosen.

"If only they could see you now," Fred said breathlessly, bunching your hair up out of your face. "The perfect Hufflepuff Princess in all- Fuck- All her glory. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock."

You moaned at his praise and decided that you needed release of your own, but your moaning only encouraged Fred to push your head down deeper, giving a satisfying moan himself. You came off Fred with a pop, choking from the lack of air. Fred, his hand still in your hair, pulled you up for a kiss before flipping you on your back.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Fred whispered, dragging his nose across your cheek. You cherished his caring tone, his usual flirty playboy persona melting into the air around the two of you,

"Fred, I... I want- Fuck... No. I need you," You begged, dragging your hands down his chest. He grinned, tracing two fingers across your folds, sighing happily from how wet you were.

"Oh, I can tell. I just like listening to you beg," Fred smirked, teasing your entrance. You squirmed at the thought of relief just seconds away.

"Please," You slurred, pulling on his hair so that he would lean down to kiss you. You cursed his patience, but finally he leaned in with a thrust that made your back arch. "Oh my God." 

Your whimpering only encouraged Fred's rhythmic thrusts. You could barely let out the words faster, harder before he met your demands. Your release built up faster as he continued to comment on how beautiful you looked under him. Fred's arms were planted strongly at the sides of your head, with a steady gaze on your pleasure.

"You take me so well. Look at me. I want you to look at me while you cum," Your eyes had drifted shut in order to fully feel Fred's unforgiving stretching of your entrance, but he used a free hand to grab your face to make sure you were looking at him. He leaned back slightly, changing the angle that he was fucking you at, hitting a different spot that made you moan so loud you forgot that there was a party happening downstairs. Fred used his other hand to reach down between your legs, rubbing slowly and softly, sending you into a frenzy. You could barely breathe and you surrendered any reservations about being quiet as you came around his cock. Fred groaned, dropping his body onto yours, burying his face into the crook of your neck and placing kisses on the sensitive skin.

"Fred," You choked out, winded from your orgasm. "I want you to fill me up."

Fred let out a string of curses at your vulgarness and with a thrust that was deeper than the others, he came in you and collapsed besides you, a panting and sweaty mess. He leaned up on one elbow, relishing in how messy you looked because of him. 

"Here, I'll clean you up," Fred said delicately, rushing over to your washbasin with one of your facecloths. He offered you your clothes back, but you simply rolled over and enjoyed the moment. Fred climbed into bed with you, surprising you when he pulled you into his chest. He continued to comment on how beautiful you were as he stroked your hair, lulling you to sleep.

｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★.

You woke up, hazy from the light filtering through your curtains. You jolted awake when you realized that you weren't wearing any clothes except for a button down that was way too big for you. Fred was gone, but left a soft dent in your bed that told you that he had left rather recently. Checking the time, you saw that breakfast wouldn't open for another hour, but you decided that it was probably best to check on the state of the common room after last night. You changed into a new set of clothes, kicking aside the haphazardly strewn garments from last night into a pile that you would deal with later. You realized with a frown that Fred had only left his shirt and not a note or anything of the sort. 

When you descended the stairs, you wish you weren't chosen as prefect. The rest of the house seemed to have had a night like yours, your fellow housemates asleep on any flat surface possible. You slowly made your rounds to wake people up so that they could go back to their rooms just in case Professor Sprout wanted to make a surprise Saturday visit. Afterwards, you basked in the stillness of the room, choosing to skip breakfast in favor of a leftover pumpkin pasty that someone had stolen a tray of from the kitchen next door. You cringed at the thought of having to talk to Fred now. What could you possibly say? Hopefully he'd find something witty to say first, diffusing the tension. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch deciding to put these thoughts in the same pile of clothes on your floor to worry about later.

---

Once it reached nightfall, you realized you successfully but accidentally avoided Fred and any other suspecting gossip from the school. You spent the day preoccupied with following your best friend around Hogsmeade, who was in pursuit of various potion ingredients and details of last night. You kept her at bay by telling her that you'd reveal everything once you returned to your rooms for the night because you were worried about any eavesdroppers. By the time you returned for dinner, you were exhausted. The minute you took the side of the table that faced the Gryffindors, you felt silly for putting this much effort in hopes of simply catching a glimpse of Fred. You noticed that he was sitting at a different part of the table with most of the Quidditch team instead of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It also looked like he was getting a lecture from George, but his new seat was mostly blocked by the Slytherins that sat in front of them.

Halfway through dinner, the twins and Cormac McLaggen left the Great Hall with devious looks on their faces. Your best friend spent the next few minutes persuading you into following them so you could talk to Fred. With a sigh, you went out the same double doors that Fred cornered you in just a few days ago and began to look for Fred. He couldn't have gone back to his room. This would be the most inefficient way to get there. You rounded the corner before stopping dead in your tracks and ducking behind a pillar. The twins and McLaggen stood in the middle of the cloister, laughing hysterically.

"Alright, pay up," Fred laughed, holding his hand out towards McLaggen, who groaned before digging into the pocket of his robes.

"What if I don't believe you? George?" McLaggen pressed, bouncing a pouch of coins in his hands. George held up his hands in defense.

"That was a solo adventure for Fred. Though through twin ESP, I can assure you he's not lying," George laughed, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. You were incredibly confused, mind racing with possibilities about what they were talking about. It was the same feeling as when Fred kissed you, but much more sinister.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

"It really wasn't as much of a challenge as you thought, McLaggen, I think I'm just simply better than you. It was easy. She's all soft under that uppity exterior," Fred gloated. "She folded within minutes." Fred had on a look that you could only describe as a leer and was brought back to reality when George smacked him on the chest and told him that he shouldn't be talking about girls like that. With that, you were stunned, barely able to process the entire conversation. Really, it felt like you had been casted with Petrificus Totalus and you forgot how to breathe. You watched McLaggen curse under his breath and hand over five galleons to Fred.

With each clink of the coin, you felt your face get hotter and eyes get wetter. You softly cast the Disillusionment charm over yourself so that you could run back to your room undetected, tears falling without remorse. You only made it to the mermaid fountain in Central Hall before collapsing, forgetting to breathe after leaving the walkway. You cursed yourself for stopping here out of all places, refusing to look at the library. You were relieved that the study period for the night hadn't started yet, but there was a greater sense of loneliness in the usually bustling hall now more than ever. You desperately tried to put yourself together, not wanting anyone - but mostly your fellow housemates - to see you like this. You decided to salvage any reputation you had left by quickly drying your tears and finding solitude in your room.

---

"C'mon, you've never skipped class. I don't think Professor Flitwick will give you detention but I also don't think you want to find out," Your best friend coaxed you out of bed. All you could do was turn in your bed so that you would face the wall instead of her.

"No. Fred is in that class," You said dejectedly, knowing that she was right. Flitwick was your favorite teacher and you his favorite student, but you couldn't bear the thought of looking at Fred after what happened on Saturday. You were grateful that there were no prefect duties to attend to at all yesterday, deciding that the best course of action was to lock yourself in your room all day and "get a head start on the next week." Your best friend slipped you some food that she nabbed from the Great Hall and fortunately, did not press any further. You told her yesterday that nothing happened between you and Fred. You've never felt more embarrassed in your life and saying the words out loud would only mean that it were true. With a great sigh, you ripped off your blankets and decided to get ready for the day, unable to come up with a good excuse for missing Charms.

You played nervously with the end of your braid while walking to the Charms classroom, wishing you had did another hairstyle. It was soothing for you to do up your hair, but in your distracted state, the intricate design was lost and you just felt messy. You still managed to get to Charms class a little early, hoping to ask the professor a question you encountered in your studies last night. You also hoped that this meant you could get a seat in the front of the class quickly.

You were surprised to have spotted Fred sitting uncharacteristically by the wall in front of class and all you could hear above the sound of your heart pounding in your ears was the clinking of the Galleons. Before you could decide to give up on classes for the day and run back to your room, Fred waved at you and got up quickly to meet you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, warding off any feelings of crying. 

"Hey, I missed you this weekend," Fred grinned, which only made you clutch your books harder. His expression turned quizzical when he realized you refused to meet his gaze.

"How unfortunate," Your said softly, voice shaking. It wasn't in your nature to ignore him and honestly you didn't know how without appearing rude. Ha. How could you worry about being rude to Fred Weasley when the only reason he was talking to you was to try to win some cheap bet with his friends. Your anxiety immediately turned into a sour anger when you realized this, trying to move around Fred into the classroom. He grabbed you by the waist and swiftly pinned you to the wall, just like he did the night before, making you yelp.

"What? That bad? I thought you had a rather good time," Fred said cheekily, clearly not understanding the issue. You decided to look the beast in the eye, which was a fatal mistake. Every emotion that you kept bottled up over the weekend threatened to spill out 

"I think it's best if we just get along with our lives, okay?" You said, hoping that you were giving him an out from the whole situation. You literally bit your tongue in order to avoid saying anything else. Fred looked at you bewilderedly and released his hand around your waist, causing you to bolt towards the classroom.

"Hey, wait! Wait, what's wrong?" Fred grabbed you by the arm before you could really get anywhere and you could barely hold back your tears from his sincerely concerned voice. Determined not to cry in front of him, you took another deep breath. You couldn't believe you were in this situation, frustrated above all. Fred couldn't possibly be concerned about you. You were just a game to him. A mere five galleons. The churning in your stomach and tears welling in your eyes dispelled itself as word vomit.

"Look I know, okay? I know why you started talking to me. I know why you made that silly... bet with me," You spit, yanking your arm out of his grasp. "I tried to go talk to you on Saturday night after dinner and I saw it all. You, George, McLaggen. The whole thing. You know what, fuck you, Fred. You don't have to deal with my 'uppity exterior' anymore, okay? I don't want you to. You're a slag. I don't ever want to talk to you again."

At this point, the hallway was filling up with students on their way to class, so many of your classmates definitely saw you shove Fred in the chest so hard that he stumbled backwards into the wall. Surprisingly, you didn't cry at all, but instead, your mouth stayed with a sour taste that you thought would resolve itself if you gave Fred a piece of your mind. Leaving him stunned, you wiped a little bit of blood off your mouth from biting your lip so hard and ducked into the Charms classroom.

---

Much to your mortification, your best friend and the rest of the Hufflepuff table was buzzing about your confrontation with Fred. The lunch break never felt so long. People congratulated you for showing him up without caring about the reason why. This time, you sat in your usual seat with your back to the Gryffindor tables. Your best friend couldn't contain her curiosity and set aside her courtesy from before, demanding to know what happened to warrant such a reaction. You promised her that you would tell her later. Luckily, you had a free period during this time and could hide from all the whispers in the hall. If you had to hear "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" one more time, you were going to hex somebody. You decided to leave the Great Hall early, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of attention you were receiving.You barely made it passed the second set of doors to the Great Hall when someone called your name. You turned around, knowing exactly who it was.

"Fred, it hasn't even been six hours. I meant it when I said I don't ever want to speak to you again," You kept walking forward, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Fred quickly moved in front of you, physically stopping you between himself and the house points hourglasses.

"Well, you're not doing a very good job at it," Fred retorted humorously. Maybe you should just hex him, you thought. "Okay, bad joke. Look, I want to explain myself. You deserve an explanation."

"I- Whatever, make it quick," You thought that if you let him say what he wanted, he would leave you alone afterwards. "You've embarrassed me enough."

"It really wasn't my intention. I... I sincerely apologize for treating you the way I did. It was a sleazy thing to do. I wasn't thinking and I let my pride get before knowing you. I- I'm sorry," Fred looked at you with such a definitiveness that it sent a shiver down your spine. You cursed your softhearted nature. You couldn't just forgive him like this. You folded your arms because looking at his vulnerability made you want to pull him into a hug.

"I think the worst part is I believed you. I believed that you actually liked me. I can't even look at you without feeling humiliated. Did you fake that whole show in potions too?," You said as coolly as possible. 

"Actually like you? I... Look, I- I do. I actually do like you. Ever since that day I met you on the Quidditch Pitch. I've been an ass but that part is real. I didn't do the bet to make a point, but because I actually wanted to. I really did smell your perfume that day in the Amortentia. You drive me crazy. I-"

"Please don't say 'actually' or 'really' again. They're starting not to sound like words," You joked gently. Fred laughed in relief and cupped the side of your face, softly stroking your cheek.

"Are you still mad at me?" Fred pulled you in a little bit closer, easing you into a hug.

"Just a little bit. But you can make it up to me later," You said, happily inhaling his cologne. 

"Oh, later?" Fred pulled away to give you his signature goofy grin, only for you to smack his chest and say something not-so clever about his dirty mind.

[pr33tylul]

okg pls give us a hufflepuff reader with slytherin harry

HARRY POTTER X FEM!READER.

The bet

(LOVE WHOEVER MADE THESE PICS OMFL ITS HOT IN HERE 🥵)

Part 1 Part 2 part 3

Slytherin!Harry and hufflepuff reader!

Ravenclaw Hermione and gryffindor Ron.

All marauders are alive just not mentioned

Voldy baldy is dead.

Warnings: cigarettes, swearing

Harry James potter.

The girls around hogwarts loved him, until they found out what a total player he was. Many girls would cry over the heartbreak, some girls wouldn’t give a shit and never talk to him again. Some reckoned he was only like that because he was friends with Draco malfoy.

Y/n y/l/n. One of hogwarts most favourite students, y/n wasn’t one to hate on people but when it came to potter she couldn’t stand him, she promised herself she’d never EVER fall in love with someone like Harry.

“So what class have you got next, y/n” Hermione looked at her. “Oh I have char-” y/n not looking where she was going she bumped into someone, her books going everywhere. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going” she laughed awkwardly even before looking up and when she did, she wished she could take the apology back but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh it’s okay, not your fault” Harry had passed her books that he’d helped her pick up his friends not far behind him smirking at the both of them, he looked into her beautiful e/c eyes and smiled.

Y/n smiled as she walked off with Hermione, the slytherin boy just standing there.

“The Harry Potter just spoke to you!” Hermione squealed “did you see how he was looking at you? He was totally crushing!” Y/n looked at her best friend “he can crush all he wants, do you not know what he done to Ginny Weasley? He cheated on her with Cho Chang then he cheated on Cho for some other girl, how come you were so excited for him to speak to me? If you want him I’m sure he would snog wit-”

“Y/n! Gross anyways…Ron’s the one I like…what do you think I was doing why you and Harry were talking?” She shyly replied. Hermione wasn’t the kind of girl to fall for a boy then go blabbering on about it, she was very secretive with that kind of subject.

“Come on enough boy talk, flitwick will have our necks if we are late.” Y/n said walking a bit faster.

Later on.

Ron, malfoy, Harry, Blaise, Seamus, Dean. We’re all in the slytherin common room joking and laughing around. Malfoy then had said [this story there aloud in each others common room.]

“So potter, you looked real cozy with that hufflepuff girl, y/l/n? Was it.” Malfoy had lit up a cigarette. Ron turned over to Harry. “As in y/n? Blimey Harry” “we just bumped into eachother no big deal.”

“But she’s definitely not a big fan of you like most girls” Dean continued on. “Chang and Weasley basically told the entire school and rumour has it the golden girl of hufflepuff don’t like you, at all. No way she’d fall in love with you mate”

“Is that a challenge?” Harry smirked looking at Dean. “You don’t think I Can get y/n y/l/n to fall in love with me?” Harry sat up “okay I bet you all, I can make that girl fall in love with me.”

“And if you don’t.” Seamus Said, all boys now interested in this bet. “If I don’t I’ll jump in the black lake, naked.” “Alright, bet” Blaise said, Harry now lighting a cigarette.

~

The next day, Harry came down extra early making his way to the hufflepuff common room, waiting for y/n.

He had a cigarette in his mouth when She came out, her hair down and a bright smile on her face. “Y/l/n!” Harry shouted throwing the blunt on the floor and walking towards her.

She turned around “potter” he heard the annoyance in her voice. “You and me, date?” She rolled her eyes “yeah nice try, find another girl.” She walked off and he was left alone stood there.

Again the next day he came down waiting for her, she looked even more annoyed when she saw him. He took her books “what do you think your doing?” She said rolling her eyes. “Walking you to class, what does it look like?”

She smiled a little bit and she prayed that he didn’t see, but he did.

He did the same the next day. “Well I’m not surprised to see you here potter.” She said giving him her bag. He put it on his shoulder. “I want to get on a first name basis, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” They walked to breakfast together. “So y/n. You gonna let me talke you on a date?” She looked down. She really wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t do this for the others, maybe he was actually trying to keep a relationship.

“I don’t know” was all she said but Harry knew that he’d get the hufflepuff girl to fall in love with him with out falling in love with her.

Well, little did he know.

The weekend had come and Harry and y/n were in Harry’s dorm. “So what’s your favourite colour.” Harry asked randomly. “(Your favourite colour)” he nodded “ and food?” “(Your favourite food)” you were currently sitting at his desk why he was in his bed.

“Do you have a favourite colour?” Y/n asked looking at him. “Well I like red I suppose, and favourite food is Treacle Tart” y/n laughed at the way Harry licked his lips as he said it. “You know, I could get used to that, your laugh” Harry smiled at her.

She blushed a little.

“You want to make treacle tart?” Y/n offered, Harry’s eyes lighting up at the question, y/n being pushed down to the kitchen.

Y/n had started with the flour, salt and butter. Mixing it together with her hands, Harry standing behind her he put his hands in aswell helping her. Y/n slightly blushed but didn’t let him see. When they had done the pastry they started on the filling, then assembling the tarts and putting them in the oven.

Y/n cleaning up the flour on the side. Harry being Harry he took some and tapped her face. He laughed “oh really! Is that how you wanna be.” She giggled taking flour and chucking it all over him.

Y/n ran around the kitchen covered in flour and so did Harry but y/n was hiding and Harry was catching her. Quietly, Harry scared her casing her to scream and giggle. He pulled her in by her waist and looked down at her. He looked into those (e/c) eyes he adored so much.

Maybe he was falling for her after all.

After there fight they cleaned up the kitchen so the elf’s would have to, not even long after that the treacle tart was done.

Harry had taken it out the oven and he took one without waiting.

“This is the best treacle tart I’ve ever had, hands down.” He said smiling at her. She giggled as she wiped his lips with her thumb.

“It’s getting late” y/n said looking at the time. They were aware that they were out after hours but sneaking back was the problem. “It’s okay love, come on.” Harry had put the tarts on a plate and took one more before leaving the kitchen.

He took her up to the hufflepuff common room. “I’ll see you tomorrow” He smiled. She smiled back. “Yes. And you can take me on that date tomorrow night if you want.” Harry smiled, the bet had blown over him and all he cared about was her. “I’ll pick you up at seven”

She watched him leave before slipping into the common room, smiling as she walked to her dorm.

[jamminvroomvroom]

karma rules! part 2.

ln x fem!reader

read part 1: ‘a golf swing and a trampoline’!!

back on my lando bullshit lmao. HI! here’s part 2! i wanted to write a second part considering how things were left in part 1. very interested in knowing if y’all want a third part!! thank you so much for all the love on part 1, one of my fav things i’ve written 🫶 n e wayz, please enjoy more lando suffering and max on lando violence.

sticking to the ‘little freak’ harry vibes with this one too. karma really does rule!

in which everyone is sad and horny.

warnings: 18+!! swearing, alcohol, aaaaangst omg, smut, fluff, max being very fucking annoying, reader being a sexy girlboss, lando’s entire character

7.2k words

lando couldn’t recall exactly how long he’d been stood outside your bedroom door staring at max. he couldn’t recall exactly how long max had been stood there either, staring back at him; disgust etched across his downturned lips and an unwavering sheen of hurt clouded his eyes, greener than usual, probably from the envy scorching through his veins. lando could feel his jaw relaxing every few seconds, his mouth falling open, apologies daring to spill from his parted lips. no sound came out. what was there to say? nothing, apparently, as max turned on his heel and stormed off back towards his room.

lando stood motionless for a second too long, blinking rapidly, mouth bone dry. anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach in the most horrific way, although he supposed he deserved it. some small trace of sense that he’d lost when you turned up on that godforsaken golf course returned, and he finally sprung into action, chasing max down. when he finally caught up to his friend, max was already on the verge of slamming the door in lando’s tanned face.

“max, please, just hear me out-“ lando was breathless, flailing helplessly as he tried to find the right words. max wasn’t keen on giving him the chance to.

“you have everything. you have everything else that i want. why did you need to take her as well?” max spat the words, rage-laced and unrelenting in their brutality. lando’s mouth once again hung agape.

apparently it was a rhetorical question, one that lando would probably think about until his last breath, as the door slammed shut in his reddened face.

what a mess he’d made.

-

lando’s attention had been taken away from the ceiling looming above him by the slamming of a door and the sound of suitcase wheels rolling along the floor. he’d been sprawled out on his bed, helplessly awake since the early hours of the morning, since he’d crept out of your bed, since max had slammed the door in his face. yet another wave of dread washed over lando, adding to the tally, as he dragged himself up off of the duvet that he’d melted into and arose, daring to investigate. it didn’t take a genius to work out what was going on.

cracking the door open, his suspicions were confirmed. max was almost at the staircase, suitcase in tow behind him. lando sighed, pushing the door open and stepping out into the hall. max turned around at the noise, eyes daring lando to try and convince him to stay after such a betrayal.

“you’re not actually leaving are you?” lando’s voice sounded just as pathetic as he felt. max rolled his eyes.

“what does it look like?” he scoffed in response.

“don’t be silly. come on, we can talk about this.” lando tried to ignore the guilt. an impossible task.

“silly? you fucked her, you prick. there’s nothing to talk about.” max seethed, teeth gritted. lando’s eyes fell shut, unable to meet max’s.

“it’s not like that.”

“then what’s it like? you can’t help yourself, can you? you’re so used to having everything that you want. you had to add her to the collection of things that you have and i don’t.”

“don’t make this into something it’s not.” max’s allusions were misplaced, as far as lando was concerned. lando had taken nothing from max. never a seat, never a girl. not even the one person that he wanted. you weren’t even max’s to be stolen, and yet you and lando had parted ways out of courtesy for no one other than max.

“what is it then? tell me. tell me all about how deep and meaningful it is.” max mocked, hitting lando right where it hurt: his track record with women. “tell me that you’re madly in love with her. i bet you can’t. i know you, lando,” max was pointing his finger now. “i know she’s nothing but another fuck. and you know how i feel about her!” he was getting louder, a little too loud for lando’s liking, considering they were stood right outside of your door. oh, and because the rest of their friends could probably hear every single word from the surrounding rooms.

“that’s not,” lando’s jaw clenched, he swallowed hard. “that’s not true.” he muttered, not wanting to rile max up further by admitting that, yes, he was madly, pathetically, gut wrenchingly in love with you, and he was almost certain you felt the same way.

“you’re such a fucking joke.” max threw the words and they landed square in lando’s chest, leaving him winded. max turned away, resuming his beeline for the stairs once again. lando stepped forward.

“and what am i supposed to tell the others, huh?” lando called, exasperated.

“i don’t know, maybe tell them how much of an asshole you are.”

he didn’t see max’s face again, the door slamming harshly, a line drawn in the sand, a boundary. not that lando had any issue with crossing lines, something he was bitterly reminded of when he turned away from the stairs, letting out an existential sigh as he did, only to be met with your furrowed eyebrows, quivering lips, and oceans of sadness and un-cried tears swirling in your eyes.

it hurt. it actually, physically pained lando. reaching out for you, touching you, even just for a second, just to comfort you, it was forbidden now. he knew that if he pulled you close, he’d never be able to let go. they’d have to find some way to alter his mclaren so that you could race with him. he would not be able to let you go. you knew this just as well as he did. he wondered for a moment why you were looking at him the way you were. distant, confused, sad. after the night you’d shared, the most beautiful, bittersweet turn of events, he couldn’t fathom why you looked so distraught at the sight of him.

why are you looking at me like he did? lando wondered.

that was, of course, until he realised that you’d heard everything.

“i know you, lando.”

“i know she’s nothing but another fuck.”

ouch.

“i don’t know what you heard.” lando’s words scratched the back of his throat, clawing their way out of his mouth and leaving nothing but bitter, bitter regret all over his tongue. he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. nothing would have pleased him more. he’d made too big of a mess.

“just all of it.” your voice was dusted in sleep, the very sleep that he’d peacefully left you in. you didn’t sound like yourself at all and it scared him.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” lando rushed out, trying to salvage any respect you had left for him. you were not just a body to him.

“but he knows you, lando.” you whispered, delicately devastated.

“he doesn’t know anything about the way i feel for you.” if lando needed you to understand one thing, he desperately needed you to understand that.

“he’s lashing out,” you nodded your head softly as you spoke, as if to tell lando that you understood what he was trying to say. “we hurt him.”

“no, i hurt him. this is all my fault.”

“takes two to tango.” you mused, always apt at breaking the ice.

“i never should have let it happen.” and maybe that was the truth, but lando knew that he would thank whatever god he could think of for giving him that one night. the words you’d whispered to him the night before were almost worth the agony.

“do you regret it?” he admired the way you tried to control your shaky voice when you asked.

“i should.” max was right, lando truly was an asshole.

“i didn’t ask whether you should or not, lando. i asked you if you regret it. there are two answers.” this was the first flash he’d gotten on this not so fine morning that you were losing your temper with him. how could he blame you? he would have been wise to start listing all the people he’d pissed off on this trip, but he feared there wasn’t a big enough piece of paper, or enough ink in the world.

“of course i don’t. but i-“

“no. no ‘buts’. it’s already too painful. no ‘buts’.” your words were electrifying in the worst possible way. he had hurt you. this was hurting you. and there was nothing he could do that would make it any better.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry.” the emptiness of his apology, despite how much he meant it, was daunting. he had hurt you.

you scoffed. he was getting sick of that sound.

“i don’t want your apology, lando.”

“well, i can’t give you what you want.” he sounded desperate, oh so desperate, a wounded animal frantically searching for a way out. your eyes fluttered shut, a sigh settling deep in your bones. you took one last look at him, knuckles turning a pasty white from how hard you were gripping the door. slowly, it began to close, doing yourself a favour, and shutting him out.

“bye, lando.” you whispered, before you were cast out of sight. if he was counting, this would have been the third door to slam in his face and the sun had barely broken in the sky. what a miserable record to hold; the most people that cannot bare to look at you before 8am.

why would no one give him the luxury of letting him apologise? it made him sick, just how far gone the entire situation was, how out of control he was. a racing drivers worst nightmare. somehow, he’d managed to kill two birds with one stone. max was gone, and it seemed like you weren’t far behind him. maybe you and max were meant for each other after all.

that thought made him feel sicker than anything else had.

-

phone calls were always awkward, especially for someone as awkward as lando. the awkwardness was intensified by the fact that max was ignoring every single one of his calls, ending them before they could even ring out. there were only so many calls that you could make before you succumbed to the fact that no progress was being made. the next best thing that lando could do was catch a flight, and so that’s what he did.

lando ignored every single quizzical look, ignored the way his brother and tom looked at him doubtfully when he announced that he was leaving early “because of a work thing” that he was “sworn to secrecy” over. he just shrugged at all of their questions as he threw his neatly hung shirts in his suitcase and floored it out of his rented bedroom, taking a similar route to max. down the stairs and out the door. but unlike max, lando was weak. he couldn’t leave without one last glance over his shoulder, one last look at you.

you stood with folded arms, almost judgemental, narrow eyes glazed over with a shimmer that made lando’s heart plummet. you’d chosen him, and yet he was choosing to go and fight for max’s friendship. how tragic.

deep down, he knew he was being cowardly, running away. he needed space, needed to finally be able to breathe again and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that in a house with you, especially without max’s watchful eye. he also knew that if he played this right, fixed what needed fixing, there was a possibility, albeit a slim one, that he’d be able to initiate something real with you.

while he desperately needed to fix things with max, purely because he was his best friend, he also knew that max acted as a stepping stone, a gate keeper, as tasteless as it sounded. max’s friendship meant the world to him and he was grateful for it, no matter how many times he lost a round of golf, but you were like air and he knew that he needed you just as much. not more, but definitely just as much. it was a delicate balance, one that he thought of in the taxi, imagining he was rested against you again, one that he thought of as the plane took off, as it landed, and as he reclaimed his luggage.

pulling up at max’s parents house was as panic inducing as it should have been, and definitely embarrassing. lando shuffled awkwardly up to the front door, ringing the bell as he rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. when the door swung open to reveal theo, max’s brother, lando momentarily wondered if he needed to book a haircut with the younger fewtrell, before his thoughts were cast aside by the flash of confusion on the face staring back at him. lando smiled sheepishly, never more uncomfortable in his life.

“first max turns up a week early, and now you? what the fuck happened in greece?” were the first words that theo spoke, tilting his head in confusion.

“is he here?” lando enquired, deciding to cut the bullshit and skip the pleasantries, following suit.

“upstairs in his room, hasn’t said a word. what happened?” theo quirked an eyebrow. lando was always a bit strange, sure, but never so on edge. lando, of course, ignored the question. sometimes media training did pay off.

“can i come in? i need to speak to him.” he didn’t realise how urgent he sounded until the words left him, an undoubtedly suspicious theo stepping aside and letting him in.

lando threw a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder, disappearing up the stairs. he was familiar with this house, easily navigating his way through the building that held so many childhood memories, memories that he would not allow to be tarnished. it only hit him that he’d fled greece and chased max across europe once max’s bedroom door came into sight. he froze, attempting to compose himself. it was futile, his breath shaky as he knocked on max’s door.

“what?” the clipped response sounded from the other side of the wood, drenched in angst. lando held his breath, swinging the door open. had it not been for the rather tense situation, lando would have squawked with laughter at the double take max did. “what the fuck?”

“we need to talk.” it seemed easier to get straight to the point. max didn’t exactly seem interested in pleasantries.

“could you not have called?” sarcasm drenched max’s voice, eyes narrowed and unforgiving.

“that’s not funny.” lando sighed, thinking about the many, many times his finger had pressed down on max’s name in his phone.

“my sincerest apologies.” sarcasm won out again, and lando wondered if this was a mistake.

“are you gonna hear me out? i did just fly here.” lando snapped, trying to reign it in, keep himself in check. he was getting desperate.

“and the damage is repaired. thanks so much for thinking of me.”

“all i’ve done is think about you.”

silence settled between them, lando’s words hanging heavy in the air. max’s face grew angrier, jawline tightening.

“and what is that supposed to mean?” max demanded, eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m here, aren’t i? i’m fucking here.” he was here and not with you, where he actually wanted to be. that had to count for something, had to show how much he valued max. realisation dawned in max’s eyes. lando was with him.

“you knew how i felt about her.” max stated. lando nodded. of course he knew, he felt it too. max sighed. “how long?”

lando was silent.

“how fucking long?”

“since that first day. i was relieved when she dumped you, but of course, you couldn’t let her go.” lando tried to lighten the mood but it didn’t translate. it didn’t help that he wasn’t really joking.

“are you trying to blame me?” max bit, eyes narrowing, just as lando thought he was getting somewhere.

“no! for fuck sake, of course i’m not. i just need you to understand.” lando ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“how long has it been going on with her?” max’s voice was quieter, preparing for another blow.

“just that night. that one night.” lando quickly replied, anxious to reassure max that he wasn’t a total traitor.

“then it shouldn’t be hard to let her go.” max spoke the words so simply that lando almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. his face fell, chest tightening.

“max-“

“i don’t want to do this, but i can’t sit back and watch you and her. i can’t fucking do it.” the volume of max’s voice crept up again, voice holding an edge of emotion that made lando ache.

“don’t be unreasonable.” lando almost whispered, words holding absolutely no persuasion. he knew it was over.

“don’t be unreasonable? do you hear yourself? you fucked my ex girlfriend! and you haven’t even fucking apologised to me, by the way.” max shook his head in disbelief, hurt all over again.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” lando repeated the words feebly, suddenly exhausted, utterly utterly drained.

“promise me you won’t go any further with her.”

“please don’t do this.”

“you wouldn’t be here if this didn’t matter to you. promise me, lando.” max held lando’s gaze. it was too easy to crumble.

“i promise.”

the words triggered a minor sense of relief across max’s face and a bottomless pit of dread in lando’s stomach.

-

the months that followed dragged excruciatingly, like nails on a chalkboard.

the season started back up again, providing momentary relief for lando, but it was barely enough. he managed to avoid max as much as he could, until zandvoort, when max had turned up on a work obligation. it was frosty, tense between the two men, anyone could see that, but no one made the mistake of asking why. on paper, things were on the mend, but lando wondered if max would ever forgive him. he wondered if he’d ever forgive max.

whilst him and max weren’t exactly on the best of terms, at least they’d managed to make contact, the occasional twitch stream doing something to chip away at their icy relationship. you, on the other hand, couldn’t have been further away, whilst remaining painfully at the forefront of his mind. he was going insane, deprived of you for the longest period of time since he’d met you. it seemed a tad dramatic to say that your absence was killing him, but that didn’t make it any less true.

the netherlands blurred into italy, into singapore, into japan. lando couldn’t remember the last time he was at home. not monaco, monaco felt too hollow. he missed the uk. he missed running into you when he wasn’t even trying to. the second half of the season was crushing, an uphill battle. he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t lonely, it did get a bit too quiet for his liking when there was no one else along for the ride, quieter than it usually. no max, no you, miserable.

there was a glimmer of rest between japan and the usa, a brief trip to the uk to breathe. he had lunch with his parents, widened his eyes at how much his baby niece had grown, ruffled his younger sisters’ hair in the way only a big brother could. he had a day on the sim, going over things at the factory. it dragged. he was exhausted. the last thing he needed was to attend a friends birthday party, especially on a thursday night after a long week.

an expensive club in central london wasn’t the most appealing of spaces to lando. he preferred restaurants with friends, maybe indulging in a drink or two over dinner if he was feeling adventurous, but he definitely didn’t enjoy the club scene as much as he was supposed to. but it was dark enough in there to hide the bags under his eyes and the music was just about bearable. he knew he wasn’t the most present person in anyones life, so the least he could do was suck it up and stay for a few.

slumped on a barstool, lando was thankful that he made the effort, because one brief glance to his right set his sights on everything he’d been missing.

sad eyes, short black dress, a smile that made the world stop and anyone with sense lose their mind. you’d arrived. was breathing essential to being alive? it couldn’t be because lando certainly wasn’t breathing, and yet there he was, ready to fall to his knees.

lando was definitely sweating, chest tightening, heart beating faster than his mclaren had ever gone down a straight. he was absolutely at a loss for what he was supposed to do. he had no idea that you were coming, perhaps naively. not a lot of the usual suspects would be attending this birthday party, so he’d ever so stupidly assumed that you simply wouldn’t be either. max, for example, had been tied down by a work commitment and wouldn’t be in attendance.

max. max. max. max max max. max!

lando felt lightheaded.

as far as he was aware, you hadn’t clocked him and he wondered if he should keep it that way, no matter how tempting the alternative was. he swirled the drink in his hand, wrist relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. downing the burning liquor in one swift gulp seemed entirely logical, and so that’s what he did, succumbing to instant regret as he shivered the nasty taste away. lando swiftly swung around on the barstool, planting his now empty glass on the counter before placing his palms down on the cool surface. perks of being somewhere fancy: it wasn’t sticky. the coolness of the marble grounded him, allowing for a moment of clarity before the liquid he’d just thrown back seeped into his blood stream and made him weak. well, weaker.

he glanced around, realising that he’d lost you in the sea of people and strobe lights, wondering if he’d actually manage to get away unscathed. what if he’d imagined you? lando felt this strange pull, something that was keeping him in place. he wasn’t prepared to leave just yet. bravely, he actually turned his head, properly scanning the bar to look for your face. it wasn’t hard to find you this time, especially not when you were already staring back at him.

lando’s throat tightened, eyes holding yours, matching the intensity of your gaze. you truly were a sight for sore eyes, easily the prettiest person in the room. he wondered if the dimly lit bar had somewhat brightened for anyone else as soon as you’d walked in. he almost fell off the barstool when you you leaned in to one of your friends, still maintaining eye contact as you whispered in their ear. next thing he knew, you were making your way over. oh god, you were making your way over. he reached for the collar of his white dress shirt, tugging it to no avail; the material was already half unbuttoned anyway. he didn’t breath any easier.

lando turned away, facing the bar as the stool next to his dragged along the floor. he watched from the corner of his eye as you navigated yourself up onto the stool, the heels of your shoes barely grazing the floor as you slumped next to him. you must have looked like a right pair, emitting high levels of irrevocable sadness, and an unhealthy amount of lust. what a combination.

you grabbed the bartenders attention, waving her over.

“i’ll have two of whatever he’s having, please.” you called across the bar, tilting your head towards the lovesick driver.

he was trying to speak, but nothing but bated breath seemed to escape. almost immediately, two glasses had landed in front of you both. without even looking his way, you held your glass out to clink it with his, quickly taking a sip once he’d fumbled his way to respond, knocking his chilled glass with yours.

“fuck, you’re on the strong stuff.” you choked out, probably not expecting something so bitter in your lightweight drinking partners glass. lando barked out a laugh, entirely humourless. he was in agony. “really? nothing to say to me?” you continued, finally turning your body to face him. he continued staring forward, debating his next move.

“thank you for the drink.” lando replied, planting his hands back on the counter to rise from the barstool and leave. he had to leave. his self control was surely fleeting, his patience for other peoples feelings wearing increasingly thin.

“wait!” he didn’t get very far, a hand much smaller than his own flying instinctively to grab at his forearm. he froze in place, eyes widening at your touch and the embarrassing rush of warmth in his chest. your eyes were stormy, some kind of internal battle taking place. “can’t keep watching you leave.” you seemed to whisper the words in the noisy club, yet he heard you perfectly, almost trembling under your touch.

“does it make any difference to know that i don’t want to leave?” lando offered.

“no.” you scoffed, pouting at him.

he tilted his head, offering you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. you rose to your feet, falling into step behind him as he guided you through the club. he needed to talk to you properly, somewhere quiet. you found yourselves out in the smoking area, neither of you having the intention of lighting one up, but at least you were alone. dangerous territory. last time, it had almost cost him dearly.

“i’m sorry that i left.” lando planted himself against the wall, as far away as he could physically be, implementing what he hoped was a safe distance between you.

“yeah? you should be.” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

“i didn’t know what to do. i thought that maybe if i spoke to him…” lando trailed off, lost in the memory of max’s words. promise me, lando.

“that he’d be okay with it? come on, lando.” you rolled your eyes.

“not my finest plan. i tried.” he pathetically reasoned.

“wish you’d tried with me.” your comment took him aback. it seemed unfair, cruel. hadn’t you both agreed that it was a one time thing?

“we knew that night, we both knew what we were getting into.”

“yeah, well, doesn’t make it any easier.”

“what would you do? huh? what would you do if you were me?” lando practically begged for your answer, holding himself back against the wall.

you were silent. lando pushed himself off the wall, beginning to pace the small space, met with waves of frustration. you just stood there watching, arms still crossed.

“god, this is a fucking joke.” you scoffed again, moving to block his path. he stopped in his tracks, refusing to meet your eyes.

“yeah, fucking hilarious.” he muttered.

it was completely still between you, no movement but the rise and fall of your chests, syncing up as the space between you grew smaller and smaller. shit.

gently, your fingers wrapped around his shirt sleeve, pulling him a tad closer. he was in trouble. you were destined to be the death of him. he felt your fingertips graze the skin of his wrist, a shiver running down his spine.

“i missed you.” you whispered. his head shot up, finally meeting your eyes.

“you know i missed you too.” he murmured, relaxing further into your touch. lando was convinced to had your own magnetic force field.

“i didn’t, actually.” there she was, the tease that he’d missed more than anything.

“haven’t stopped thinking about you.” lando breathed, giving up the fight. he needed you to know that you were at the centre of his every thought.

“what a coincidence, haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” your hand that wasn’t working its way into his own landed softly against his chest, slowly grazing up until you were gently stroking his neck.

“don’t know if i’ll ever get over you.” all sense was lost.

“i don’t want you to.” you whispered, cupping his cheek. the fingers of your other hand were now laced with his.

“good.” he shuffled forwards, any remaining distance lost to your shared urgency.

“i want you, lando. think i always will.” mere centimetres separated you now, alcohol laced breath mingling.

“you’re driving me crazy.” you smiled at that, nose bumping against his.

“one more time.” you muttered, closing the gap, peppering kisses across his jaw. lando’s eyes rolled back.

“we can’t.” lando spoke with so little conviction that he may as well have fucked you right there in the smoking area.

“says who?” you crooned deviously in his ear.

“fuck.” lando panted, pulling you away from his neck, where you had moved your kisses.

with hooded eyes and no more hesitation, lando cupped your face, pulling your lips to his. you hummed against his lips, fingers threading through his hair to keep him close. the kiss was firm, full of things that should have been said months ago, tongues brushing slowly as he held you as close as he could. as you broke away, breathing heavy, you gripped the collar of his now creased shirt, tugging on the material, your other hand still playing with his curls.

“take me home.” you didn’t need to tell him twice.

-

getting you back to the apartment he stayed in when he was in the city was easy. he’d hailed a taxi, your lips attached to his neck the entire time you were stood on the pavement. he had you wrapped in his arms, shielding you from the chilly october air, while you marked up his skin. once you’d begun the journey back to his place, you managed to behave yourself, despite pulling his hand to sit up high on your bare thigh. lando paid the fare, helping you out of the taxi, the pair of you scurrying into the lobby of the building and into the elevator.

he kissed you again, pressing you against the wall as you travelled up to his floor. you rolled your hips, testing the waters, hearing him groan into your mouth at your teasing. lando held you there for the duration of the journey, lips moving with yours. the ding of the elevator broke you out of your trance and you smiled into the kiss, pulling away. hand in hand, he guided you into his apartment.

the need for one another took precedent, and you quickly found yourselves in the bedroom. the months that had passed went by slowly, too slowly. you both needed it, you could talk after.

lando paused, standing in the doorway as he watched you walk further into the room. he smiled softly, finally feeling at ease. you were so beautiful, and he needed to show you, but he needed a second to take it all in. you, there, with him. just the two of you. you noticed that he’d stopped, turning back to face him.

“hey, you.” you called, reaching your hand out for him. “come here.” he quickly obeyed. he could see the lust in your eyes, the prettiest colours in the world darkened slightly, pupils blown. something softer swirled underneath, and he lost himself.

“gonna let me show you how much i missed you?” lando lowered his lips to your ear, tongue dragging across the skin beneath it. his hands found a home on your waist, spinning you around so that you were flush against him. again, you rolled your hips, body trembling in his big hands.

“need you, lando.” you whined, feeling his fingers skim your collarbone as he pushed your hair out of his way and over your shoulder.

he hummed against your skin, lips working over your neck, open mouthed kisses leaving you panting. his hands smoothed down your back, over the material of your silky black dress. he bunched the material on the way back up, tugging it until he was pulling it over your head. the dress quickly became an afterthought, dropped to the floor in a heap. lando grabbed at your waist again, gently turning you back around to face him. you looked at him through your eyelashes, shy under his intense stare.

your fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, the few that were still done up. you pushed it off of lando’s shoulders, running your nails down his bare chest. your hands trailed down his abs, fiddling with his belt, and then the button on his jeans. lando kicked them off, the both you standing there in your underwear.

“on the bed.” lando breathed, walking you backwards.

lando picked you up at the last second, lowering you down onto the duvet, quickly slotting himself between your spread legs. your arms were around his neck, bringing his lips against yours. he felt you shiver against him, his hands grazing your sides, as he kissed down your neck, over your collarbone.

lando kissed over the lace of your bra, mouthing at the material as his fingers slotted behind your arched back, unhooking the clasp. he didn’t linger, quickly tearing it away from your chest. he let out a content sigh, lapping at your nipple, fingers tweaking the other. his tongue swirled, teeth making a cheeky appearance that had you gasping as he bit down. you felt his mouth leave you, fingers still grazing your body.

“did you miss me, baby?” lando’s breath fanned across the valley of your breasts as he spoke, your stomach tightening.

“you know i did.” you muttered, staring down at him.

“how much?” he smirked, kissing the flush skin of your chest. he felt like teasing.

“lando.” you warned, threading a hand through his curls. he breathed out a laugh.

“i know, baby, i know.” he resumed his kisses down your body, fingers slipping beneath the band of your underwear. ever so slowly, he began to pull them down, tugging at the band, letting it snap against your skin. you sighed in frustration, pulling on his hair. he grinned, the most genuine smile he’d been able to muster in what felt like forever. it grew when he saw that you couldn’t help but smile back.

he kissed along your navel, finally peeling your panties down your legs. he had you naked beneath him again, finally, and he couldn’t let a moment go to waste.

he took you apart, your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. everything seemed to be moving in flashes, the room disappearing. all he could see was you, hair fanned across his pillow, glowing under the dim lighting, your taste overwhelming him. you thrashed against him, his tongue and his fingers working blissfully until all you could see was white and all you could hear was his name, tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

when he’d kept going, throwing you helplessly over the edge for the second time, you’d let out a cry, gasping through the pleasure that you’d both been so tragically deprived of for too long. he didn’t know if he could stop, didn’t know if he could possibly exercise the type of restraint he’d need to pull himself from between your shaking legs, but your hand in his hair managed to pull him back to reality. he didn’t know where you’d found the strength but he was hovering over you again.

lando took in the sight of you, messy hair, tear stained face, eyes shot with adrenaline, exhaustion. you flashed him a heart stopping grin, eyes fluttering shut as your chest heaved, and he crumbled again, for the millionth time that evening. giving you a second to breath, he brought his soaked fingers to his lips, licking away the mess you’d made. the groan he let out was animalistic, your eyes shooting open.

the kiss you shared was messy, laced with traces of you on his tongue and a clash of teeth. he settled between your thighs, your hands pushing his underwear down until he laid bare on top of you.

“you have no idea how much i missed you. no idea.” lando muttered, lining himself up. he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, slowly pushing inside. you whined, clinging onto him as he moved his hips until you were full. he stilled, hand brushing the hair from your eyes, which were piercing his own.

there was nothing else. there was no max and no time apart, no sad eyes and missed opportunities. there was you, and there was him, and that was it.

“need you to move.” you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

lando’s hips retracted slowly, before he was setting a delicious rhythm. he rocked into you at the perfect pace, hips hitting yours. your eyes has rolled back in your head, his own remaining fixed on the way your face moved, eyelashes dusting your cheeks, the creases in your forehead, the way you kept smiling as the pleasure took its hold.

he was dizzy, utterly ruined as he fucked you. your touch left him weak, oblivious to anything else. it didn’t matter what happened after this, he would never regret it, no matter how dire the consequences. you were heavenly around him, squeezing him so tight as you had your way with him. he was teetering on the edge, on the verge of a beautiful collapse, but all that mattered was you.

lando rutted his hips, watching your body spasm as he hit that spot over and over, his fingers sliding between your sweat dampened bodies to find your overstimulated clit. a few messy circles and you’d had it, a broken scream of his name tearing from the back of your throat.

his name. no one else’s.

that was enough for lando, all he needed to hear to send him catapulting into the abyss, vision bright white as he collapsed on top of you. he could feel you shuddering, kissing your neck to try and dull the aftershocks.

you stayed there entangled for god knows how long, unmoving in one another’s embrace. you were so warm against him that lando couldn’t bring himself to move. it was serene, the peace of having you beneath him, wrapped around him, stroking his hair lazily while he panted into the crook of your neck. the peace of knowing that he wouldn’t need to sneak away at the break of dawn. when he eventually mustered the strength to pull himself away, you whined.

“where are you going?” you groaned, as he stood from the bed.

“just getting something to clean you up, baby.” lando replied, slipping into the en-suite.

he returned a few moments later with a flannel, wiping over your thighs before tossing it with his laundry. lando quickly pulled the covers back, climbing into the bed beside you. you rolled over, draping yourself over his chest, his arm winding around your shoulders securely.

“stay tonight.” lando whispered. it wasn’t a question, nor was it a demand. it was his way of pleading, of keeping you close for as long as he could. he felt you nod your head in agreement.

“didn’t wanna go anyway.” you giggled, eyes still shut. you could have easily fallen asleep.

“don’t want you to go. don’t want to lose you again.” lando mumbled. he felt you tense up. you weren’t laughing anymore.

“don’t get my hopes up.” you whispered back, burying your face in his chest, as if you were hiding from him. the cracks in his heart that your evening together had bandaged up began to splinter.

“i’ll fix this. we can fix it.” lando affirmed, begging that you’d listen. all the time spent with you reminded him that without you, he was miserable.

“i wish that was true.” you sighed. he clung on to the fact that you were still here. he could convince you, he was sure of it.

“i’ll deal with him. he has to understand.” lando alluded, cupping your cheek.

“lando, stop-“ you argued.

“please, just let me try. i want you. fuck, i need you.” he really, really did. you seemed to soften at that, frustrated expression melting away.

you craned your neck, leaning up to peck his lips. all of his worries dissipated then, and he knew that he belonged to you. lando knew that this was it, that you and him were headed somewhere. it was good, this thing between you, feelings that he’d never felt, that he didn’t even have labels for, surfacing at even the briefest glance, the softest touch.

as you fell asleep in his arms to soft kisses on your forehead, lando laid there staring at the ceiling. he’d just betrayed his best friend. again. but that wasn’t what was keeping him from falling asleep.

no, what was keeping lando awake was the fact that he simply didn’t care; how could he with you sleeping so soundly next to him? and that scared him more than anything else. as far as lando was concerned, max had his chance, and he blew it. lando would be damned if he made the same mistake.

the things you did to him, the hold you had, it was almost frightening. and with every deep breath you took, he fell deeper and deeper.

-

when he woke up to your body pressed against his, feeling more refreshed than he had since august, lando smiled. he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet and you had him smiling. what kind of fool did that make him?

your catlike stretching and urgent need for coffee had driven the pair of you out of bed, despite how much lando hated the stuff and the both of you wanting to spend the morning tearing one another to shreds. you figured you had the rest of the day to get to that. you’d laughed as he threw his shirt at you, the sleeves too long. it hit mid thigh, the pair of you ignoring the creases as lando pulled you into him, rolling up the sleeves. he smirked at the goosebumps that littered your skin, left behind in the wake of his touch. you shoved his shoulder at his cocky smile.

lando made you a coffee, all of that work experience at mclaren finally paying off as he slid it across the counter towards you. you smiled, grateful, taking a sip. he pottered around the kitchen for a while, mumbling something about not knowing how to cook without setting the kitchen on fire. you were endeared as you watched him, leaning across the counter, resting your elbows on the surface. it was domestic and it was a long time coming.

neither of you wanted it to end, but you knew that important steps needed to be taken. lando was already mapping out the blueprints for what he would say to max, willing to grovel on his knees if that’s what it took.

it was lucky that lando was so accustomed to quick thinking, because the sound of keys in the lock made him realise that the grovelling would be starting a lot sooner than anticipated. there was only one other person with a set of keys. you know, for emergencies. lando was pretty certain that there was about to be an emergency.

your heart plummeted as the door swung open, the dress shirt hanging loosely off of your body doing little to preserve anyones dignity. max’s face fell immediately, the cogs in his brain spinning into action as he took in the disheartening sight before him.

hickeys, bare legs and messy hair. a train wreck.

this was becoming an unfortunate habit.

-

sorry max lol

taglist

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[sexy-n-stressed]

Deck the halls Pt. 2 (Conner Kent X Male Reader)

Not me editing out the parts where I said I would write smut in this part hehe. I was going too but after the LEGO scene I just couldn't it was too adorable.

I'm writing this at a bus stop, which I will be stuck at for the next 20 minutes, and then stuck on a bus for another 35. I mean, why not write fanfiction while sitting next to a stranger and an old person. Enjoy hehe.

Quick update: the guy behind me is reading this over my shoulder so, uh, you enjoy too.

————————————————————

The words barely left Conner’s lips before you were nodding in a way that said you were a little too desperate. You were desperate though, so.

You struggled to keep yourself contained as you ascended the staircase behind the boy. What was about to happen? A tryst? A menage e tois? You barely knew what those words meant, especially not the French one. Why were you thinking those? Passing by doors to rooms you'd never been in, it was almost like a guessing game. Which room belonged to THE superman, and which room belonged to the equally as famous toilet.

Conner slowly opened the door to his room, most likely to avoid ripping it off of it's hinges. “This is the room the Kent’s let me- I mean, my room”

Conner’s room was practically empty, with only a bed and a small lamp on a desk across the room, and was rather small for both a kryptonian and a house of this scale. You couldn't help but think of Harry Potter and the closet. Speaking of closets.

Conner awkwardly stood there, trying to gauge the emotion on your face, like he was worried you wouldn't approve.

“I like it, seems cozy” Cramped and cozy were practically synonyms anyway, right?

He smiled, before rushing over to the bed, and reaching under it, pulling out a tub of LEGO’s. “Wanna play LEGO?”

You almost giggled, from the absurdity of the situation and the fact one of the most dangerous individuals on earth was playing with LEGO, but seeing the look on his face, you couldn't say no.

And that's how you and Conner wound up on the floor of his room playing LEGO, with you making structurally sound lego towers, and him smashing them down as a makeshift dinosaur or robot rampaged through the ‘city’. You had to admit, it was pretty fun. And he looked like he was having the time of his life.

“So, how long have you been living with the Kent’s” You asked warily, watching as Conner’s eyes looked up from the LEGO’s before snapping back down

“Um, a couple months now.” He looked nervous, like he was hiding something.

“Have they been treating you well?”

“Well, Ma is always nice to me, making sure I finish my plate and picking out church clothes.” His eyes drifted to the door, “But everyone else is still..”

You leaned forward, placing a hand on the boy who was seemingly much more complex then the angry brute you'd heard others whispering about.

“I'm… a clone. Of Clark.” Oh.

I mean, you guessed you could see the resemblance. The raven hair, the chiselled jawline, the intense musculature. But he seemed nothing like Clark. More… real, in a way. Clark seemed so above everything else, like he was a God and as much as he wanted to be human, he was just better. More perfect. Not that he did it on purpose. Maybe it was just your perception of him, knowing that he was Superman and all.

“Not just Clark though, Lex Luthor too. The rich guy and the supervillain trying to destroy Clark.” Conner clearly knew about the conflicting emotions Clark must have over him, with him being both a perversion of his genetic code and partly related to his biggest enemy.

“They all pretend they're ok with it, but they're not. I hear them talk about what to do with me, whether I should be trained or…” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant.

“Well, then they're stupid.” Conner cocked his head.

“If they don't see you for who you are, then screw them. You’re Conner. Not just a clone of Clark.” His expression showed he’d clearly never heard those words, even among the worlds so-called ‘virtuous heroes’.

Unable to find the words, Conner just leapt over and embraced you, crushing the LEGO city you both had created.

“You’re worth more than what others see you as Conner, don't forget that.”

[adriellej]

Harrison "Harry" Wells

Harry x Reader

One Shots:

I'm Yours

The Way

Rough Days

Weakening Anxiety

Sorrow

[harryyskiwii]

Summary: You end up in hospital with suspected endometriosis and Harry is the doctor on hand to help you.

Pairing: Doctor!Harry x Reader

Word count: 2,988

A/N: this was a request from a follower who suffers with endometriosis, from researching this topic I've released what a horrible condition this is and I hope I've done it justice! Hope you enjoy. As always, feel free to send in any requests!

Ever since you were 14 years old, you had suffered terribly with your periods. It would start with pain in your lower back, then the sickness would hit, then the intense cramping and your periods would be so heavy you had to change tampons every 30-60 minutes.

Despite multiple visit to the doctors, everyone assured you it was normal. You knew it wasn't normal, your friends never suffered as badly on their periods, they never had to cancel pains because of pain and they weren't sick because of stomach cramping.

It wasn't just when you were on your period you would have these symptoms. The back ache, the cramps were part of your daily life for most days of the month. Taking painkillers twice a day had become normal for you.

No doctor had ever taken you seriously, always claiming “it’s not uncommon for women to have cramps on their period” which enraged you more and more each time a doctor told you this.

You weren’t stupid, of course women suffered from cramps with their periods but your cramps were unlike anything you had read was normal. Your periods were more than just heavy, you would pass out on the first day you were on because of the amount of blood loss.

Despite previously advocating for yourself and asking for further tests as you'd always suspected it was endometriosis but your doctor refused as there 'wasn't enough evidence of the disease', funnily enough, your doctor was an old man in his 60's.

Tonight was one of those nights where you were having a severe flareup. You were doubled over in bed with pain, you had thrown up 3 times and your flow was the heaviest its been in a long time. You had already taken 4 ibuprofen over the course of 4 hours and it wasn't touching the pain.

You moved into the bathroom where you were you were sick another 2 times and you started to feel dizzy and lightheaded. This usually never ended well when you felt like this. You knew this wasn't good so you called your friend, Sophie to ask her to grab you some anti-sickness tablets from the shops and to come over to help you.

When she arrived, she only had to look at you to realise it was serious this time. "Y/N, we need to get you to the hospital"

"No Sophie I'll be fine I promise" you let out a scream in pain but you were not going to the hospital for another doctor to tell you it was "just period pains again".

"Y/N you can barely look at me or stand up without screaming in pain"

"Sophie please" you winced in pain as another shooting pain went up your abdomen. It felt like it was on fire.

"I'm really worried about you, if you won't go for you, go for me. I'll drive you. What if it's something serious?"

Another wave of nausea and intense pain made you give in and nod to her in agreement. She helped you get up and changed into leggings and a sports bra and into the car.

The sickness had stopped thankfully but the pain felt like it was intensifying with every minute that passed, so much so you were now in tears as Sophie drove to the hospital.

When you arrived, it was an agonising 2 hour wait in A&E until a nurse called your name. She asked questions about your symptoms and you explained you suspected you had endometriosis. She did some basic tests, gave you some more pain medication and left to get the doctor.

When the doctor came, he repeated the same questions, did an examination and ultrasound of your stomach and ordered you some stronger medication. "Your stomach feels completely normal, your blood pressure is high but that's most likely due to the pain and your temperature is raised slightly as is your heart rate. I'll give you some morphine through an IV which should help reduce the pain and some paracetamol for the high temperature. I've ruled out appendicitis, gallstones and a stomach ulcer so I'm going to ask the Consultant Gynaecologist to come and examine you further as it does sound like you're experiencing symptoms of endometriosis"

Finally someone who understood, but apparently it was a busy Thursday night in Gynaecology as it was 3 hours before anyone from that department came to see you.

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles I'm the consultant Gynaecologist this evening, Y/n isn't it?" a doctor in navy blue scrubs with tattoos down his right arm said to you, as he walked through the door with a clipboard.

The first thing you noticed about him was how attractive he was, and his hair. It was dark brown and was clipped back with a black claw clip, he had a slight moustache but you could tell it had recently been trimmed as it looked almost too neat but it made him even hotter. This was not the time or the place to be looking for your next boyfriend, the pain in your abdomen reminded you why you were here in the first place.

"oh hi, yeah I'm y/n. Nice to meet you Dr Styles"

He grabbed a seat and brought it next to you and sat down on it, well, more like straddled on it which made you feel some kind of way. "Please, call me Harry. Nice to meet you y/n, I hear you're not doing too well. What's been going on?"

You told him all your symptoms and how long they had been going on for, to which he wrote some things down. He looked concerned as you went through them, raising an eyebrow at the more worrying signs like the fainting spells and extreme heavy periods.

"Why haven't they sent you for further tests? "he asked once you had finished giving him your history. He looked concerned which gave you hope that he might actually be willing to help you.

"My doctor says it's normal, I've tried to push for more tests but he says all women get cramps on their period"

He rolled his eyes before realising you had seen him do it "Sorry that's unprofessional of me, it’s just frustrating when healthcare professional dismiss issues like this, but don't worry Y/N, we'll get to the bottom of it for you" he smiled reassuringly at you.

He seemed genuine, kind and empathetic, something while previous doctors haven't been to you.

"Do you mind if I do a quick exam? I know you're in pain right now so I'll be as gentle as I can" he asked and you nodded. He got up and sanitised his hands before asking you to lift up your top to reveal your stomach.

You felt a little anxious as he rubbed his hands together to spread the sanitiser on his hands "Sorry my hands might be cold" he smiled warmly to you which revealed his perfect white teeth that made you blush a little.

“I’m just going to lightly press on a few areas, let me know if anywhere is worse than others”

You winced in pain a few times as he was doing the exam, him apologising each time.

After the exam, he sat back down "I'd like to do a laparoscopy as soon as we can, it's small operation to look inside your tummy to determine what's going on. It's keyhole surgery so you wont have a a large scare. An ultrasound doesn't always pick up endometriosis as it can develop behind organs so in order for me to give you an accurate diagnosis, this would be the best way. Does that sound okay?"

"Y-yes, I guess so. Do you think it is?"

"It could be, it would explain your symptoms but as I say, I can't know for sure without having a look internally. Don't worry it won’t take long, maybe 30-45 minutes. I’ll have a good look and then depending on what I find, we can discuss the outcome once you come round. Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine” you replied, you didn’t have much else to say, you were too overwhelmed with the whole situation.

"Good, I'll go and speak to the team and get you up to theatre within the hour. Someone will be in to talk you through everything. I know things are moving fast but I want to get to the bottom of this for you tonight" he put a hand on yours to reassure you and smiled.

He stood up to leave the room. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“What if I do have it? What happens then?” You asked.

“So as I mentioned we’ll do what’s called an exploratory laparoscopy first which is just to see what’s going on. This doesn’t involve the removal of cells or anything, however if we confirm it is endo you have, then we’ll make a plan on the best way to move forward. That might involve surgery, it might not. It just depends on what I find” he smiled at you reassuringly.

“Okay, thanks. That’s all I think” you told him.

“No problem y/n, I’ll let the team know to get you prepped and I’ll see you in a bit” Harry told you as he stepped out the room.

Sophie was holding your hand for support. You were so nervous. You had never been put under before and you weren’t sure what to expect.

“What if something happens Soph, like what if there’s a complication or something?” You turned to her, immediately panicking about going under general anaesthesia.

“you’ll be fine y/n, they’ll look after you really well and I’ll be here when you wake up. The doctor said it wouldn’t take long. It’ll just be like taking a nap” she said trying to convince you that everything would be alright. Which it would be, you trusted Dr Styles, you were just overthinking everything.

Over the next hour, various nurses came in to help you get prepped for surgery. With every passing moment, your heart rate was increasing with anxiety and before you knew it, it was time for the surgery. You said goodbye to Sophie and she wished you luck.

You were wheeled through to the theatre where you just about shit yourself with all the medical staff and equipment.

“Hey y/n, how you doing?” You heard the familiar doctors voice from before behind you.

You looked round to see Dr Styles now with a scrub cap and gown on, but still looking attractive.

“I-I’m okay” was all you managed to get out due to nerves.

“I know it’s scary being in here with everything going on but we’ll take good care of you, I promise” he smiled to you and you believed him. Just being in his presence made you feel safe.

You nodded your head and he smiled “Dr Styles you’re needed over here” a nurse called on him.

He looked back at you “I’ll let the nurses look after you now, I’ll see you when you’re awake okay? Trust me, you’ll be absolutely fine”

He smiled reassuringly to you and dashed off to wherever he needed to go and you were left feeling anxious again. The nurses helped get you ready for surgery and before you knew it, you were being put to sleep.

*A few hours later*

“Hey sweetie, you’re all done. How are you feeling?” A nurse asked you as you were coming round from the anaesthesia.

In all honesty you felt like you had been hit by a bus. You felt exhausted, nauseous and you were in pain again, which you were sure was from the surgery.

“Let me get you some water” she said, noticing your pale complexion.

You looked over and seen your friend Sophie sitting by your bedside holding your hand, she smiled at you. “You okay?” She asked and you nodded in response.

The nurse who had introduced herself as Annie handed you some water and you took a sip of it, mainly to satisfy her. You just wanted to sleep.

“Everything went well, are you in any pain and I can give you some more painkillers?”

You nodded and she gave you more medication through your IV to help.

You sat up in bed, with the help of Annie and Sophie and you felt a little better.

“D-do I have it?” You asked the nurse sheepishly.

“I’ll let the surgeon know you’re awake and he can come talk to you” was all she said with a smile before leaving the room.

You turned to Sophie “What do you think that means? Have they told you anything?”

“No they haven’t said anything to me, she probably just wants you to hear it from the doctor himself”

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door and seen Dr Styles popping his head in.

“Hey, can I come in?” He asked and you nodded.

“How are you feeling?” He asked closing the door for privacy behind him. He grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed with some paperwork in his hands.

“I’m okay, a little sore and tired” you told him.

“Have you had anything to help with the pain and nausea?” He asked, sounding concerned as he picked up your chart and started flicking through it.

“Yeah they’ve given me medication” his face softened into a small smile.

“Good, it should kick in soon. It’s good that you’re awake now, see I told you you would be okay!” he joked and you laughed slightly.

“I’ll get straight to it as I know you’ll be eager to hear how things went. So overall it went very smoothly, as I mentioned it was exploratory keyhole surgery just for us to have a look and see what’s going on.

When I first went in, everything looked absolutely normal which I thought might be the case because your ultra sound was clear. However, when I went a little deeper it was apparent that the cells that cause endometriosis were present behind your bladder” he paused to let you take the information in.

“The good news is, the cells have only regionalised in that one area so it's only affected the one area. It does mean you officially have a diagnoses of endometriosis and it now allows us to deal with it. How do you feel about that?” he asked.

“I’m- I can’t believe it” you stuttered, not quite believing that after all these years, someone had finally listened to you.

“I understand it’s overwhelming when you’ve been dealing with this for a number of years, it’s good news in a way because it means now you have some answers” Harry said to you.

“Yeah it is, I’m so pleased. Thank you so much for listening to me”

“It’s no trouble at all, I’m just doing my job, I’m happy to help” he smiled before continuing on.

“So the next step is to map out a sort of treatment plan, there is no direct cure for endometriosis as you may already know but there are things we can do that can relieve the symptoms. What I would highly recommend in your case is to have surgery in which we go in and remove the deposits of endometriosis. This would mean a few days recovery in hospital with continuous follow up appointments with myself for a few months but I’m almost certain that this would be the best chance for relieving your symptoms. Everyone is different but the surgery should stop your periods from being so heavy, help with the cramping and the general feeling of being unwell during your period. You don’t have to answer now, I’ve got some leaflets here on the surgery which you can read over and have a think about if it’s something you want to go ahead with or not”

“I want to do it. I’ve read online about the surgery and I want to have it” you said, not even having to think about it.

“I thought you might say that” he laughed “I legally need to explain the procedure, risks/benefits etc to you but after that if you’re happy to go ahead with it then so am I, I really think it’s your best chance”

“Yeah I want to go ahead” you confirmed.

“Okay, let me run through everything with you and then we can get a bit of a plan put together” Harry then spent the next 15 minutes explaining the ins and out and the procedure and making sure you understood the risks associated with it.

Once he was finished, he gave you some leaflets “have a read over these as well, mainly so that my arse doesn’t get kicked by management for not giving you them” he winked to you as he laid them on your bed.

“I’ll be back in to check on you in the morning and if everything looks good, you’ll be able to go home. If you need anything at all, press this button and the nurses will be able to help you. You look like you need a nap so I’m gonna go and leave you in peace. I’ll see you later”

You laughed at his comment “Thank you so much for your help, it truly means so much to me” you thanked him once again.

He smiled and winked at you before leaving the room. You blushed and felt butterflies in your stomach. Sophie winked at you once he was gone "only you would come into hospital and make a doctor wink at you" she joked and you laughed.

You couldn’t believe you had been diagnosed with endometriosis after years of advocating for yourself. It took just one understanding doctor like Harry to listen to you and help you get the diagnosis you needed and it helped that was really wasn't bad looking either.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

I ║ Palomino

Jack Daniels x f!reader

 { Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2: Buckskin }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.

Warnings: Extremely self-indulgent solo travel romance, flirting, yearning, language, matchmaking themes, lots of horsey details, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: This story encompasses a lot of firsts for me - first new series since Consent, first time writing Jack, first time writing something so action-heavy and close to my heart. While I'm not 100% confident I got everything right, I am so excited about this fic. I hope you're ready for the ride (I apologise in advance for all the horsey puns incoming)!

I want to call out (affectionate) LJ @prolix-yuy for lighting a fire under my ass for cowboy Jack with her incredible Westworld AU Cognitive Dissonance. I also need to thank Ani @deadhumourist for the idea of a company retreat that I used in this chapter, and for sharing with us her amazing Jack fic Under Marula Trees. And of course, Ash @mandoblowmybackout for enduring my almost non-stop screeching about Jack ❤️

More notes in the Series Masterlist on horses and travel, etc!

Palomino: a pale golden or tan-coloured horse or pony with a white mane and tail, originally bred in the south-western US.

The door creaks long and loud on its hinges as it opens, barely letting through a bustling figure before slamming shut so hard it rattles on its heavy oak frame.

At the long-suffering frown sent his way from across the reception desk, Champ holds his hands up in apology and tip-toes in exaggerated fashion to his desk. Ginger shakes her head fondly - being quiet is not one of her employer’s strong suits.

She presently returns to the phone call she’s in the middle of, using her most placating tone on this customer. ‘Look, we have regulars coming in the same week as you. They come every year for a company retreat, and they are just the loveliest people you can meet. I promise you’ll have a great time.’

The vintage Chesterfield groans under his weight as Champ settles down, and with a practised flick of his wrist, his cowboy hat lands on its designated hook on the wall. He turns to the ledgers Harry left on his desk two days ago - he can’t keep putting them off much longer…

His mind quickly wanders. He’s a people person, and he’s always been more interested in the dude ranch holiday part of the business. However, Ginger is so good at her job that she’s made him redundant, banishing him to the whiskey distillery side of things. 

It doesn’t stop him from keeping half an ear on the ongoing phone conversation though.

‘I’m so sorry, ma’am, it’s not our policy to offer refunds. But I promise you’ll have the best birthday with us on the trip.’

Champ steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair. Ah, a customer wanting to cancel. Always tricky.

‘Tell you what - since you’ve already paid a 40% deposit for two guests, why don’t I waive the 20% balance for your holiday for one party?’

Champ arches a grey eyebrow in curiosity.

‘Alright, perfect,’ chirps Ginger brightly. ‘We look forward to seeing you in a few weeks. Bye now.’

‘What was that about?’ he asks as soon as she hangs up.

Bringing up the reservations system on her computer, she types busily as she replies, ‘A guest booked a holiday with her boyfriend, but they broke up, and she wanted a refund for both their places. I convinced her to come alone instead with the discount. She’s here the same week as the Kingsman so she definitely won’t be lonely.’

Champ gives her a double thumbs up. ‘Nicely done, Ginger. And did you say it’s her birthday while she’s here?’

‘Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll give Poppy a heads up to bake a cake in advance.’

‘Do you have a photo of her?’

Ginger’s fingers pause and hover over the keyboard, a warning in her voice. ‘Champ.’

He blinks innocently. ‘What? I’m a nosy bastard.’

With a sigh, she pulls up a Whatsapp profile picture and holds up the phone to him.

He puts on his reading glasses to look at the screen, and proceeds to nod thoughtfully. Finally, they haven’t had any single guests at the ranch for months on end. Surely, she’s his type…

‘Champ?’ Ginger’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. ‘Stop meddling!’

He feigns ignorance. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am?’

She rolls her eyes affectionately. ‘He’s a big boy, he doesn’t need your help.’

Champ barks in laughter. ‘Like hell he doesn’t. Call the Kingsman and reschedule them, Ginger. I have a plan.’

You’ve never travelled on your own before.

Now that you’re speeding down the empty country roads towards the Bighorn Mountains - windows down, dust flying, radio blaring - you honestly don’t know why you waited so long.

You’re glad that the woman at the Statesman stood firm when you called a month and a half ago, asking for a refund. The discount sweetens the deal too.

To be honest, the week-long dude ranch trip you booked months ago had completely slipped your mind in the aftermath of the breakup. There were more pressing matters, like - what were you going to do with the house you bought and remodelled together?

You’d just finished tiling the backsplash with the vintage Italian mosaic you found at a flea market when you were informed that he didn’t feel the same way about you anymore. In fact, he hadn’t for some time.

You were only reminded of the trip when you started clearing your stuff out of the attic, finally having found an apartment you could afford on your own that is also not a shithole. You found the riding gear that you’d stashed away, gathering dust since you two started dating.

You should be thankful that at least there’s no costly wedding venue deposit to forgo or a pet custody battle to muddle through. He’s always hated animals - you really should’ve known. 

But you can’t bring yourself to not be bitter about everything. Not yet.

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re going on this trip. That lazy bastard can start pulling his weight and sort out the house viewings for potential buyers for this week. He’s been dragging his feet - just because he can afford to pay both the mortgage and rent at his new bachelor pad doesn’t mean you can too.

You shake yourself out of it and crank up the stereo. Fuck it. You’re not thinking about him or the house or anything this weekend. It’s your solo birthday getaway and you’re gonna enjoy the fuck out of it.

And who knows? If you’re lucky, you could be rebounding with a handsome cowboy, like one of those awful Unicorn Club novels you used to read over and over again when you were fifteen.

You laugh, the pull of the muscles in your cheeks unfamiliar after weeks of disuse. A girl can dream.

You switch off the ignition, hands gripping the driving wheel tightly, and you take a moment to compose yourself. 

‘You can do this,’ you murmur, giving yourself a reaffirming nod in the rear view mirror.

Hopping off your rental truck, you shut the door behind you and start towards the only building you can see, a rustic lodge with a red roof. Statesman is blazened in iron letters, nailed proudly above a wraparound porch with welcoming rocking chairs and armchairs scattered about.

The gravel beneath your sneakers crunches loudly. You can hear in the distance sounds that you haven’t heard for a long time - clip clop of hooves, the drag of a barn door on rusty hinges, the low whinny of horses. You breathe in the mountain air scented with a whiff of sweet hay. Things that were familiar once upon a time. Your chest constricts at something blooming between your ribs, and a small smile lifts the corner of your lips.

There’s a bark out of the blue, and a border collie comes zipping towards you, wagging his tail so hard that his whole bottom wriggles from side to side. You coo excitedly and crouch down to give him a cuddle when a man with grey hair emerges from the lodge. It’s a warm day, but he’s wearing a suit with a cowboy hat.

In a booming voice, he calls your name in greeting and makes his way over to you. ‘We’ve been expecting you, young lady! The name’s Champ. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

You stand and shake his proffered hand with a smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Champ. It’s good to be here.’ You gesture to the empty parking lot. ‘Am I early or something?’

‘You’re our only guest this week, actually,’ he replies in a thick Southern accent.

You scratch the back of your neck, taken by surprise. ‘Umm, but the lady I spoke to on the phone - she said that there are regulars joining? A company retreat or something?’

‘Sadly, they rescheduled. It’s just you, my dear. You’re our VIP!’ he grins and claps you on the shoulder. ‘Come! Walk with me. I’ll have someone take your bags to your room. You can leave the keys in the car, it’s safe - but you keep any food to yourself or Jameson here will run away with it!’

The border collie barks at his name and Champ scratches him behind the ear, dispatching him with a wave of his hands.

Your host starts at a brisk walk. ‘So, how was your journey, young lady?’

You have to power walk to keep up with him as the gravel fades into firm sand. ‘Long, but glad to be here. I’ve been really looking forward to getting away.’

‘First time travelling alone, I assume?’ Champ smiles at you kindly.

You nod sheepishly. ‘I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.’

He laughs. ‘You’re entitled to nerves, but I promise you, you’ll forget all about that in three, two, one -’

Right on cue, you round the back of the lodge and you can’t help the gasp that slips out as you stumble to a stop.

The full landscape of the ranch comes into view beneath your feet. A picturesque river cuts through the green sweep of land, small lodges with matching red roofs are dotted all over one side of the bank, and bigger barn-like structures stand on the other. The Bighorn Mountains tower over the entirety of the property. You see horses grazing in a huge, fenced field, tails flicking lazily at flies.

Champ practically glows at your reaction. ‘It’s taken thirty years to get to where we are. I hope it will stand for many more decades to come.’

‘It’s - stunning,’ you say rather inadequately.

Champ winks at you. ‘Wait till you go into the mountains, my dear. Come along, now.’

You resume walking side by side, and he continues, ‘Now, since you’re our only guest this week, I can give you two options for your trip. We can do day-long rides with you, and you spend the nights here at the ranch. It’s more comfortable, but it does mean that you don’t get to go as deep into the mountains.’

Champ stops to take a breath. ‘Alternatively, you can go on a week-long pack ride with our cowboy and camp along the way, just the two of you. It's a magnificent journey, I can promise you.’

It’s a lot of information to take in so quickly, and you hesitate. ‘Um - ’

He holds up a hand at you and pauses abruptly, something catching his eye. ‘Ah, speak of the devil. Before you decide, you need to meet our cowboy. He'll be your guide for the week.’

You’re craning your neck to catch a glimpse when Champ bellows so loudly that you nearly have to take cover. ‘JACK! Son! Say hello to our guest for this week before you take the horses to pasture.’

Your ears still ringing, the silhouette of a man on horseback comes into view halfway across the yard. The dust seems to magically settle and part, and a handsome face framed by a cowboy hat, a tidy moustache and a wicked sharp jawline comes into focus.

‘Whoa.’

You belatedly realise that you said that out loud when Champ wriggles his eyebrows at you.

‘Howdy, ma’am,’ the cowboy calls back, tipping his hat politely. His voice rings brightly in the space between you, but the delicious lick of his Southern drawl makes goosebumps chase across your skin. You manage a weak smile and a wave, not trusting your power of speech at the moment.

‘Be back at four to take the lovely lady on her orientation ride, alright?’

Jack gives him a two-fingered salute. ‘Got it, boss. See you soon, ma’am.’

You watch unashamedly as the cowboy smoothly steers his horse around, and with a whistle, the dozen or so horses follow suit as he canters out of view.

‘So? What say you?’ Champ interrupts your thoughts with an expectant look.

You can’t help the stupid grin that breaks upon your face. ‘The pack trip sounds good.’

Champ claps his hands together so loudly that you jump. ‘Your wish is my command, ma’am. Or rather - Jack’s.' He winks. ‘He’ll pick out a horse for you and take you for a short ride to make sure you’re comfortable before the trip starts tomorrow. Sounds good?’

‘Perfect.’

Stopping outside one of the lodges near the river, Champ sweeps his arm in a flourish. ‘There we go, this is your lovely room for tonight, with the best views of the mountains. Poppy’s left some lemonade and sandwiches inside if you need a pick-me-up, and your bags will be with you shortly. Just make sure you’re ready by four. Got it?’ 

He holds up a hand to you, and you give him a high five. ‘Got it, Champ.’

‘Welcome to the Statesman, my dear.’ 

Watching you bound up the stairs with a spring in your step, Champ gives himself an imaginary pat on the shoulder. Well done, old chap. The plan is in motion.

You lay your outfits on the large bed as you chew on a delicious sandwich, weighing the options for your afternoon ride. You packed according to the list the ranch sent in your orientation email, but you wish you’d brought something nicer. They really should’ve included a hot cowboy warning.

You wanted to spend some time on the porch and enjoy the magnificent views of the mountains from your doorstep before the ride, but by the time you’re finally happy with your choice of clothes, you’re startled by rapping on the door.

Sucking in a steadying breath and smoothing back your hair, you turn the knob.

Fuck me sideways. This man is devastatingly good-looking on close inspection.

‘Hi, again,’ you smile, hoping your words didn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded in your head.

The cowboy returns your smile with teeth and tips his hat at you - black suede with a leather band - then offers you his hand. ‘Jack Daniels. Pleasure to meet you properly, ma’am.’

You give him your name and your hand. His grip is firm and assured, the slide of his palm against yours feels weathered and rope-worn. You cross your arms self-consciously, but the words that come out are bolder than you feel. ‘So, Champ says you’re my own personal cowboy for the week?’

He chuckles and plays along, giving you a small bow. ‘I’m at your beck and call, darlin’.’

His rich voice curls around every syllable, dipping and climbing with each inflection, but the languid cadence doesn’t waver. You decide here and then that this man can call you darlin' any time he wants.

He hooks one thumb through a belt loop, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He runs his eyes up and down your body, both professionally assessing and not, lingering on your breeches, riding boots and half chaps. He arches an eyebrow at you and says in a playful tone, ‘So, I see you’re one of those fancy English riders.’

You gesture at the flannel shirt you’re wearing, the ends tied in a knot to give it a cropped fit. You think you look cute - hopefully. You choose to crack a joke, ‘Give me some credit, cowboy, I’m trying to fit in.’

He holds his hands up in surrender, pushing himself off the door. ‘My apologies, darlin’, where are my manners? The illusion is perfect. You ready to go?’

You grab your riding hat. ‘Absolutely.’

Jack takes one look at your helmet and tuts, plucking it from your fingers. ‘Oh no, that won’t do. That is one thing I don't allow on my rides. We’ll find you a real hat.’

It’s a short walk to the stables. You hang back with all the subtlety you can muster to quietly study the cowboy you’ll be sharing close quarters with for the next week. His walk is deliberate, he almost prowls, narrow hips undulating with the rhythm of his strut. When he reaches up to adjust his hat, his shirt strains over his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up in the afternoon heat. Your eyes are about to dip a lot lower when he turns back to look at you, and you duck your head like you’ve been caught with your finger in the pie.

Are you imagining the touch of self-satisfaction that’s crept into his warm eyes?

‘So, how long have you been riding?’ he slows down so you can catch up with him. You’re relieved he doesn’t call you out on your very obvious appraisal of him.

You shrug. ‘Since I was a kid, but I haven’t been on a horse since - ’ You pause to rearrange your words. ‘- for almost five years. And I’ve always ridden the English way, so I don’t know how well I’ll do with Western riding.’

He brushes away your concern. ‘Western is easy, it’ll be a piece of cake for you, I’m sure.’

The stables are large and airy with rustic beams framing a vaulted ceiling. Utility barns are clustered outside in close vicinity, but all is still in the mid-afternoon hour. Your footsteps echo as you make your way down the concrete corridor, Jack’s sturdy cowboy boots treading heavier and louder than your riding boots. Large and tidy stalls line either side, some empty and some occupied.

‘The horses spend most of the summer outdoors,’ explains Jack. Stopping in front of a huge chalkboard nailed to the wall, he gestures at the daily schedule listed next to each name, written in a neat hand. ‘We keep them on a weekly roster to make sure their workload is evenly distributed.’

Resuming your slow course deeper into the stables, Jack asks conversationally, ‘What are you looking for in your horse for the week?’

It’s a broad question that you don’t quite know how to answer. You purse your lips. ‘To be honest? I don’t know, it’s been a while.’

‘Ok. Let’s put it this way - what’s important to you?’ He ticks off the options with his fingers. ‘Character? Temperament? Speed? Stamina?’

Is it just you or did his voice dip an octave on that last word?

Flustered, you struggle to come up with a reply. ‘Um - ’

Seeing that you’re overwhelmed, he wipes the slate clean with a wave of his hand. ‘I apologise, I didn’t express myself well.’ He changes tact. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your favourite horse?’

That you can do. You think about the last horse you really loved, before you met your ex, casting your mind back to long weekend afternoons at the local stables. The answer comes easily to you as your eyes fall to the tips of your black boots.

‘I like a horse that's forward-going but responsive to contact, and on the hot-blooded side with a bit of an attitude - I like a challenge.’ Feeling his eyes on you, you lift your gaze to his apologetically. ‘Sorry, was that way too vague or way too specific?’

‘Not at all. I appreciate a lady who knows what she wants,’ he reassures you, seemingly pleased at what he’s hearing. ‘I got just the horse for you.’

You must be in the middle of the stables structure now, when Jack makes a sharp right turn into a spacious room. Your eyes widen at the rows and rows of beautifully polished Western saddles, bridles and an assortment of other tack, some of which you don’t even recognise. Eyeing the signs above each saddle, you remark, ‘I see there’s a recurring theme in the names.’

Jack hoists a gorgeously embossed tan saddle off its rack on the wall, holding it against his side as if it weighs nothing, then grabs the bridle next to it and a saddle pad. ‘What do you expect from a ranch that also runs a distillery?’

Your eyebrows shoot up. ‘A distillery?’

‘Whiskey,’ he replies, making his way to the exit. ‘I’ll show you when we ride up the mountain, it’s on the other side of the ranch. Champ spends most of his time in the distillery nowadays.’

‘Can I help with anything?’ you ask, your hands feeling very empty as you trail behind him.

‘Not a chance, darlin’, you’re the guest. But you can watch if you want,’ he adds mischievously.

Lord have mercy. This man has gotten you more wound up in the last fifteen minutes with a few cheeky words than anyone has in a long time. Pull yourself together, woman.

You pass at least another dozen stalls - this is easiest the biggest stables you’ve ever seen - before Jack’s long strides ease, and at his whistle, the handsome face of a palomino pops up from behind a door. He nickers and nudges the cowboy familiarly on his arm, ears pricking up in alert when you come into view behind him.

‘Meet Scotch,’ Jack says in introduction, giving him a firm pat on the neck. With an easy swing, he rests the saddle on the top of the door and unlatches it, leaving it ajar for you to shuffle in behind him.

‘Hello, gorgeous,’ you can’t help but coo, running your palm from his forehead - painted with a fetching white star - to his grey, velvety muzzle. ‘He’s sweet.’

‘Wait till you get him on the open road - he’s a speed demon.’ 

You must have let your nerves show, because Jack reassures you, ‘But only if you want him to be. He’s just as happy going steady.’

You lean against the wall as Jack makes quick work of tacking up. You admire the gentle way he fits the bridle over Scotch’s head and the bit in his mouth. Reaching out, you help untuck his white mane from the browband, etched with pretty flowery patterns, and brush out the tangles with your fingers as Jack fastens the clasps.

You can’t help but catch your bottom lip with your teeth when, with a soft grunt, the cowboy lifts the saddle over Scotch’s back. His shirt, tucked neatly into his jeans, stretches taut and you eye the hint of a soft belly underneath. It rests above an almost obnoxiously large belt buckle in the shape of - are you shitting me - a flask with Statesman spelled out in capital letters.

You quickly look away before you’re consumed by the want to reach out and check if it’s a real flask.

The Western saddle has far more bits and bobs than you’re used to, but you’re too far gone to pay attention to what Jack is doing with his nimble fingers anymore.

‘There.’ He straightens, dusts off his hands and places them on his hips, one dark eyebrow up. ‘I hope you were paying attention, ma’am, I might quiz you later.’

Oh shit. You stammer, ‘Um, I mean, you were quite quick -’

Jack crosses his arms and smirks. ‘I’m pullin’ your leg, darlin’. You’re so easy to rile up.’

Before you can restrain yourself, you take a step forward and give him a playful shove in rebuke. The joke’s on you though - the pectoral muscle underneath your palm is lean and hard, and your push makes no impact at all.

‘Employee of the year, ladies and gentlemen,’ you jest, retracting your hand reluctantly.

He leans in close and gives you an almost insolent smirk, voice dropping intimately. ‘Stop distracting me, darlin’, or we’ll never make it out of this stall.’

Fuck’s sake - your cheeks literally flame. You’re about as subtle as a bucking bronco.

Taking mercy on you, Jack herds you out of the stall with no further teasing, and Scotch follows obediently behind. You’ve barely scraped your brains back together when he stops by a doorway at the end of the stables, holding up a hand that brings the gelding to a smart square halt.

‘Stay,’ orders Jack in a stern voice as if Scotch was just a very large golden retriever - he has the colouring after all. He then nods at you. ‘Come on in, darlin’.’

Stepping into the small room, you gasp in delight - every conceivable surface is covered with cowboy hats of all colours and materials.

‘Let’s see what your size is,’ Jack mumbles to himself as he plucks some options off the wall. There’s no mirror, and you hold your breath when he steps into your space, putting one hat after the other on you as he narrows down the sizing. His face is set seriously, the bow of his upper lip drawn downward, brow wrinkled in concentration.

Eventually, you run out of oxygen and you breathe him in - summer grass, leather and smoke. Your tongue darts out and wets your suddenly dry lips.

In the minutest of glances, you catch his eyes flickering to your mouth for just a second. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have spotted the fleeting stutter in his movements as he fits you with a cream suede hat with a brown leather braid. It sits snugly on your head without any pinch.

‘Try tipping your head forward and back,’ he instructs you, breaking the quiet tension. The hat doesn’t slip, and with a tap on the brim and a smile, he declares, ‘I think we’re good to go.’

Stepping into the open air, the bright afternoon sun makes you wince, and you pull your new hat a bit lower to shield from the light. You follow Jack across the yard, heading towards a chestnut with white stockings, fully tacked and waiting at a wooden post. Ruffling his thick mane, Jack says proudly, ‘Darlin’, meet my horse, Whiskey.’

‘How very fitting,’ you remark, smoothing a hand on his strong neck. ‘Hi, Whiskey.’

Scotch, who has been following you two dutifully, bumps noses with his friend in greeting. Reaching for his reins, Jack looks at you with a question in his eyes - all the tacking up, prepping and joking around is done. Suddenly, the likelihood of falling off your horse and flat on your bum in front of the cowboy seems extraordinarily high. Maybe you really didn’t think this through -

‘Hey,’ Jack cuts short your thoughts, chucking you gently under the chin. ‘Don’t be nervous. It’s all muscle memory - like riding a bike, you can’t forget. You do know how to ride a bike, don't you?’

Your shoulders quake with a laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He tilts his head at you. ‘May I give you a leg up, darlin'?’

At your silent nod, Jack brings Scotch around, and you hope he doesn't see you wipe your sweaty palms on your breeches. One hand on the saddle horn, the other on the cantle you bend your left calf up and back by the hinge of your knee. 

Jack steps in right behind your heels, his frame dwarfing you even as he leans down at the ready. One strong hand closes around your ankle and the other just below your kneecap. His voice is deep and brushes against the shell of your ear. ‘On three, darlin’.’

He hoists you up so easily that you nearly go all the way over the other side of the saddle, but you grasp the horn just in time and land squarely in the seat, albeit a bit clumsily. You can’t help but wonder what else he can do with his easy strength - a whole lot of other things, you reckon -

Scotch shifts underneath you as he adjusts to your weight. The basic instincts of being on horseback kick in slowly but surely. You gather the reins in your non-dominant hand, put the tip of your toes through the stirrup irons, push your heels down and sit up tall. You inhale deeply and smile at Jack, who’s checking the tightness of the girth and the length of your stirrups.

‘All good?’ he asks you.

‘Yes,’ you reply, relieved that you feel less like a fish out of water than you’d feared.

Jack unties Whiskey from the post. Slotting his foot in the left stirrup, he effortlessly pushes off the ground and swings his leg over the saddle, settling gently into his seat. It’s really not fair that he’s able to do it so easily in jeans that tight.

Whiskey starts leading the way towards the back of the property and Scotch follows, obviously not pleased to be left behind. Jack holds Whiskey back so that you’re walking alongside him. ‘You’ve seen people ride Western?’ 

‘I get the general idea. Reins in my non-dominant hand. Leg aids are similar.’

‘If you want to turn to the right?’

‘Reins to the right and shift my weight the same way,’ you reply, recalling the research you did before the trip.

Jack nods approvingly. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it sorted, darlin’.’

Going up a gently sloping path, the ranch disappears behind you as you begin to climb above the property, and the landscape dramatically opens up. Your breath catches at the sight of the rolling plains that stretch too far for your eyes to see, towards the Bighorn Mountains. Scotch’s ears prick up in excitement at the space, nickering and chomping at the bit. You keep your contact on the reins light even as he prances underneath you, mindful not to pull on his mouth.

Jack smiles, and you hope you're making a good impression. ‘Wanna warm up with a little lope?’

‘Lope? You mean a canter?’ you retort jokingly.

He chuckles at your cheek. ‘Alright, ma’am, look at you with your fancy words.’

With a stern finger pointed his way, you warn him, ‘You’re not allowed to laugh if I fall off, deal?’

‘I know you won’t, but for your peace of mind, I’ll cross my heart,’ he jokes and traces the motion over his chest with his thumb. ‘After you, darlin’.’

With the lightest nudge of your heels, Scotch steps straight into a smooth canter. The sudden movement jolts you forward in the saddle and out of balance, but you quickly adjust, and your hips begin to follow the flow of the familiar four-beat motion. The wind sings in your ears over the steady rhythm of hooves hitting the earth, the mountainscape blurring into green and blue.

Jack is keeping pace next to you from a safe distance, meeting your eyes when you send the biggest grin his way.

For the first time in months, you feel joy.

The sun sets on a mild evening, so you agree to an al fresco dinner by the fire when Jack poses the question to you on your return from the afternoon ride. 

After a quick shower and changing into casual jeans and a sweater, you meet the rest of close-knit Statesman team at the dinner table, and Champ explains the logistics of the pack trip to you.

‘Since it’s just the two of you, you’ll only need one packhorse. You’ll sleep outside for the first two nights, then on the third, you’ll get to the Halfway House.’

The peculiar name piques your interest. ‘Halfway House?’

Champ chuckles. ‘Halfway as in halfway through the trip. We’ll drive out to stock up the house, bring you fresh clothes and anything you’d need for the second half of the trip back to the ranch. We’ll also collect your dirty clothes and have them laundered by the time you’re back. So make sure you pack two bags, we’ll sort them out tomorrow.’

Turning to Poppy, he starts discussing the provisions for the trip, and you take the chance to shuffle closer to Ginger. Jack is at the far end of the table, deep in conversation with a man introduced to you as Tequila (you didn’t ask), so you’re sure he can’t overhear you. You clear your throat. ‘So, I was wondering what the… lavatory arrangements are like out there?’

She gives you a encouraging smile. ‘It’s all au naturale, I’m afraid. But there are plenty of bushes so privacy won’t be an issue. We bring a portable shower for guests for the days you camp out, and there’s running water and electricity at the Halfway House. But at this time of the year, Jack usually just washes off in the river.’

Your jaw drops at that revelation, and before you can close your big mouth, you babble, ‘Wow… um, by wow I meant… bathing in the river must be… cold?’

Ginger gives you a knowing grin and clinks your glass. ‘I think you’ll have a great time on this trip, honey.’

It’s early, as the first day of a pack trip always is. The chill from daybreak still clings to the thin mountain air, but the glare of the sun is already strong, even from behind his sunglasses.

Jack runs through his usual checklists. Vetting the horses, triple checking the tack, bedding, food, supplies, first aid kit. He’s collected your bag from your doorstep and loaded it on the packhorse. You pack light, which he appreciates.

He spotted you at the breakfast table earlier, almost done with your toast, when he crossed the yard with the horses, so he reckons you’re on track to make a punctual start. With the heat forecast, he wants to make it to the cover of the forest path before midday. If you make good time, a sunset dip in the lake is on the cards.

As he double checks if all the straps on the saddle bags are properly buckled up, his routine is disrupted by a firm pat on his back.

Champ is a bundle of energy even at this early hour of the day, his suit on just the right side of presentable despite the wrinkles. ‘Have a good trip, son, and make sure you show our guest a good time. I like this one.’

‘You like everyone, Champ,’ retorts Jack, but there’s no real bite in his words. ‘Not sure it counts for much.’

‘I got a good feeling about her, I’m telling you.’ 

The younger man sighs, one hand on the rump of the packhorse and one on his hip as he braces himself for the usual spiel. ‘C’mon, boss - ’

‘You’re young, you’re single! If you insist on hiding away on this ranch in the middle of nowhere, you might as well at least try to have a good time when the opportunity presents itself.’

‘Why don’t you bother Ginger about it? She’s young and single too,’ grumbles Jack as he resumes his checks.

‘Because I know she can take care of herself. But you?’ Champ makes a face.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss,’ he grumbles. ‘Just so we’re clear, I’m not hiding from anything. I actually like this job, but half the time I think you’re just trying to get rid of me.’

Spotting you over Jack’s shoulder, Champ gives him one last clasp on the arm. He leans in and says in a low voice, eyes sincere. ‘You don’t have to punish yourself forever, son. Live a little.’

Jack shakes his head as Champ moves away and calls out to you, his boisterous voice carrying even further in the cold air. He knows Champ means well. It’s not the first time he’s tried to set him up with someone, and he can confidently wager it won’t be the last. 

He knows for a fact that his boss rescheduled the Kingsman’s annual trip to engineer this one-on-one pack trip - they’ve been coming to the ranch the same time every year without fail since he started this job. He has no doubt they were more than delighted to be in cahoots with Champ in a scheme like this. 

Jack huffs a dry laugh to himself. He must be coming off as really fucking sad for Champ to go to such lengths this time. 

He straightens his well-worn denim jacket as you approach, looking almost shy this morning. You’re wearing a light fleece over what appears to be the same outfit from yesterday, hands tucked into pockets, hat dangling from the chin strap looped around your wrist.

He gives you a smile. ‘Mornin’, darlin’. Sleep well?’

‘Morning. Probably not as well I should have, considering we’ll be sleeping on the hard ground for the next couple of nights,’ you answer with a yawn, leaning on the post where the horses are waiting. You rub their noses affectionately. ‘Morning boys, how are we this fine morning?’

Jack gestures at the third horse. ‘This is Bourbon, our packhorse.’

‘Hey Bourbon.’ You give the pinto a firm pat, smoothing out his matted forelock.

‘You ready?’ asks Jack.

You put on your hat and nod determinedly. ‘Now or never.’

‘It’s not too late to back out, you know, ’ he jokes as you both start untying your horses from the post.

‘Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy,’ you quip.

When you’re both mounted, Champ and Ginger make an appearance, waving and beaming from ear to ear as you ride by. Champ grins, ‘Have fun, we’ll see you in a week! Don't come back unless you have plenty of stories to tell!’

You retrace the same path you took yesterday, up the back of the ranch and into the mountains. As the orange sun crests the top of the Bighorn, it dawns on Jack that he hasn’t spent any amount of time alone with another person for a long while, let alone seven continuous days with someone like you. 

He shakes his head. You’re a guest, that’s all. One who hasn't lost your gentle hands and soft seat despite not having spent any time in the saddle for years; who is quick on your feet yet easy to fluster; who laughs at his jokes and poorly concealed innuendos - but a guest. It’s his job to keep you safe this week, and he’s good at it. He’s done this for years and years.

Sometimes, he thinks that it’s all he has. 

Something like anxiety gnaws at his chest. You’re quiet, and he picks up on the stiffness in your shoulders. He clears his throat. ‘Nervous?’

You turn to him at his question, sucking in your bottom lip. ‘I suppose. Not about the riding, but… I’m a bit nervous about spending the week with you, to be honest. No offence.’

Well, at least he’s not the only one.

‘None taken,’ he shrugs nonchalantly. ‘And don’t worry, darlin’. Ol’ Jack doesn’t bite.’

His pulse skips a beat when you send him an almost impertinent sidelong glance. ‘I hope you do a little bit, cowboy.’

It takes him a second to let out a bark of laughter, and your whole body relaxes at the throaty sound. ‘Maybe I’m the one who should be nervous, then. Shall we stretch our legs? Start the day with a lope?’

Scotch recognises the word and whinnies, tossing his head excitedly.

A gentleman at heart, Jack adds, ‘Or later, if you prefer. We can go as fast or as slow as you want, darlin’.’

A slow heat burns under your skin at his words. Surely he must know what that sounds like, especially in that raspy drawl of his.

It must be the altitude that’s throwing your judgement out of the metaphorical window. Brazenly, you drag your eyes over him. His left hand grips the reins loosely, resting casually on the saddle horn, thick fingers of his other are splayed on his firm thigh, hips rocking to the pace of his horse.

You meet his curious stare in a challenge, imbuing your words with as much meaning as you could, letting a coy smile stretch your lips.

‘Let’s go fast, cowboy.’

As soon as your heels touch his sides, Scotch takes off at a lively stride, and Jack watches you go with a chuckle to himself.

‘Careful what you wish for now, darlin’,’ he mutters under his breath, and then he comes after you - fast.

Notes: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this first part! Comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please fill in my taglist.

If anyone is interested, there are some more horsey notes below (if it's boring, please let me know and I'll shut up lol):

About 'gentle hands' and 'soft seat': a kind rider uses 'quiet' aids to communicate with the horse (i.e. no pulling on the bit or flapping legs), and follows the horse's movements with their hips (i.e. their seat) to be gentle on the horse's back. It's a very subtle skill and you use a lot of core strength that is built over the years - sitting quietly on a horse is much harder than it looks!

If you can't tell, I ride the 'English' way and have never ridden Western. I've done as much research as I could, but if there are any inaccuracies, please let me know!

[sweetpandorabox]

Blood Purity - Draco Malfoy x Female Reader (Part 1)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: Keeping your family's Blood Purity and having high values when it comes to Intelligence and wisdom, is a duty and a sacred tradition all your family members of all generations have to follow. Getting sorted into Ravenclaw proving your worth, and following in your ancestor's footsteps, and keeping an Outstanding grade all the way through in Hogwarts kept your parents happy and proud, but not yet joyful. After 7 years of your Hogwarts journey coming to an end, they expect you to marry into a powerful pure-blooded family. As they take matters into their own hands your parents arranged a marriage for you based on a deal, to a boy who came from a powerful and pure-blooded family who you've despised for years.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Story Setting: The story is set in the year the 2000s, 2 years after the Battle of Hogwarts takes place, you and Draco were born in the 80s which would make the two of you around 20 years old in this Fanfiction. (anything in italic and bolded is a flashback scene btw)

Terms 📖:

Y/N - Your name

Y/H/C - Your hair color

Y/E/C - Your eye color

Warnings⚠️: Forced Proximity, Arguments, Bullying, Swearing and Slight Sexual Themes.

A/N: Hey cuties, sorry I've been gone for a while but I'm finally back, I wanted to start writing for Draco Malfoy because I actually love him, he's my 2nd Favorite Harry Potter boy and thought a forced proximity trope would be good and it would fit so well with the life he had in the Harry Potter books, but yeah I hope you enjoy this one I'm not used to writing something with a darker atmosphere and a more mature fanfiction here but I'm trying lol. love you. xx

Word Count: 1,959

The warm fireplace distributes its warm heat throughout the Malfoy Manor's dining hall, saving you from the cool winds of spring outdoors. The sounds of a crackling fire, quiet chatters, and sounds of cutlery being used against the delicate china plates plastered with grey floral designs played harmonically in your ear as you kept your eyes glued down on your plate of food, putting on a somewhat neutral face toying around with the contains you've been served without taking a single bite. "Y/N, at around 11pm tomorrow, you'll have to meet me and Narcissa at Sinclair's Weddings at Diagon Alley, it's for your dress fitting" your mother mentioned with a proud smile peeking through her lips, you raised your head up, and face to your right with a confused look watching your Mother takes a bite of her food, "But Mother, we've only been engaged for two weeks?" you asked with suspense trailing behind your voice, "Oh don't be silly Y/N, you and Draco are perfect for each other, it isn't worth waiting any longer," she replies sharing a smile with Narcissa from across the table as Narcissa did vise versa, "And besides everything has been taken care off, like the official date, venue, the food, the guest. You and Draco will love it" she continued. As silence roams back to the dinner table everyone continues to eat, you take a moment to pause and shift your gaze across the table to the blonde boy, focusing his pair of striking grey eyes solely on his food keeping his mouth shut and his head low.

You watched as he eyed down his food, showing no interest in anyone else taking a mouthful bite. Draco Lucius Malfoy goes far beyond your earliest memories of Hogwarts, known to be a bully and a Slytherin prince he paints a picture of himself as a snob and vile evil person, yet cowardice who enjoys taunting others for his own amusement, he gets anything and everything he wants no matter the circumstances as well. You kept to yourself most of the time during your Hogwarts years as a quiet and reserved Ravenclaw, having friends from all 4 houses and not favoring one over the other, you treated everybody equally, overlooking their blood status despite your family's belief, in 4th year however you've taken fond of Ronald Weasley who came from a pure-blooded yet poor family, you started dating him for 2 years but you don't find it easy in the slightest, as constant tournament form Draco swarms over you and Ron, he'd make snarky comments about you and the blood traitor as he calls him. Regular filthy stares came from Draco if you and Ron would show any amount of affection towards each other, because if it wasn't the harsh/shameful comments or filthy stares, Draco always finds another way to break whatever the two of you had.

"So I take it you'll be coming to my manor tomorrow night, make sure you put on that royal blue slip-on dress you always wear, you know the one with the sweetheart neckline, I find it quite alluring" Draco commented as he circle you with his minions chuckling, giving you a smirk and a playful wink. Ron stares in confusion between the two of you, realizing what had just happened you hold on to Ron's wrist, dragging him away quickly from the trio making sure you master up the dirtiest look you can give to the blonde boy, bumping his shoulder as you walk past fiercely drowning the sounds of wicked laughter behind you down. After the past event, Ron grew suspicious and demanded answers to what Draco meant earlier, not wanting to argue with your then-boyfriend you had no choice but to reveal a secret that nobody else knew about, "Ron, please just listen to me... The Malfoys and The Callahan have always been a close-knit group due to their mutual obsession over blood purity. Malfoy's mother and mine happen to be best of friends ever since their Hogwarts years, we have dinner parties with the Malfoys once every fortnight, that's all he meant by that...and since Christmas break is coming up, Draco and I will be home so it seems to be the perfect opportunity to have one in awhile... that's all I promise," you pleaded with guilt. Learning that information made Ron angry, as he decided to keep himself from you for days after that.

3 days have passed since Ron has last spoken to you, growing tired of his ignorance, you march up to the Slytherin table angrily, you scan the Slytherin table for a bleach-blonde head full of hair, and as you spot him you dash right over "Can I talk to you for a minute?" You ask, crossing your arm in frustration, matching the facial expression you displayed. Draco smirks, wasting no time and trails behind you as he leaves his group of unbothered Slytherins. You both settled outside the quiet hallway, leaving the great hall behind before you converse, "Malfoy, I really don't appreciate the comment you made 3 days ago... I mean, what are you honestly trying to do? Can't you see I'm happy?" you huffed out in frustration looking up at the tall figure, as his grey eyes pierced down at your small frame, he paused taken aback by your frustration before scoffing "What am I trying to do?... What am I trying to do? you're really asking that Callahan? he's a blood traitor. You can do so much better than that filthy Gryffindor... when are you going to realize your family would never accept him for who he is" he commented, without realizing how close he was getting to you, you backed up into the stone-cold wall, keeping eye contact with him, as he rests one of his hand on the wall by your head pinning you down.

Tensions spike up high between the two of you as your body comes closer and closer together. "When are you going to realize that your happiness could be right in front of you this whole time?" Draco blurted leaning his soft face closer to you and tilting his head, your cheek changed its shade into crimson red before you broke eye contact hearing footsteps walking away to your left cutting the tight tension, you watched as your loving boyfriend stormed away from what he'd seen, You panicked as he kept going never to look back at you, "Ron...Ron come back" you pleaded, pushing Draco away from you as you run after the Weasley boy leaving Malfoy on his own. The next day Ron breaks it off with you quick, for the very first time you feel as though you aren't worthy of any happiness as your heartbreak drives you into despair, you miss out on meals, frequently find yourself sobbing, and eventually watch as Ron fell in love with Hermione, from that day on you swore to yourself that you despise and hated Draco Malfoy and you will never change your mind about him. The sudden flashback made you fidgety as you smoothed out your old silky royal blue, slip-on dress. The one you've had since you were a teenager not having grown much physically making it fit you like a glove. After dinner has ended, you join your family in expressing their gratitude for the delicious meal and farewells to the Malfoys, completely ignoring Draco as he seems to do with you anyway. You embrace your future mother-in-law Narcissa warmly as she does vice versa and give your future father-in-law Lucious a firm yet polite smile as he smiles back and nods to show his understanding.

Dobby the house elf clicked his finger towards the grand, wooden double door to open it revealing an exit point for you, and your parents finally departing away from the Malfoy manor as you Apparate back to your own mansion, located not far from your fiancé's, ending the night in a blur as you quickly try and sleep it off in order to mentally prepare yourself for the dress fitting your mother and your mother in law has so wonderfully booked and plan. After the battle of Hogwarts took place in 1998 you went back to Hogwarts to finish your 7th year around the same time as Hermione Granger did, making sure you have all the qualifications needed to find the best job that the Wizarding World offers, even if a job isn't necessary for you to have because of the amount money your family has inherited over generations. During the battle of Hogwarts, you weren't actually present at all, since Narcissa warns your mother about the secret attack and plans that the Dark Lord schemes for Potter and how dangerous this war is, so she advised your mother to keep you home and not let you return for your 7th year, and although Narcissa isn't supportive of the Dark Lord at all she is supportive of her Husband and Son, so she has to be present there, but it doesn't mean she can't warn her best friend, your mother, and her family to stay safe and not partake in the war whatsoever and to let it pass you. So that's what your mother and father agreed on doing, keeping you home after explaining the circumstances to you.

Your eyes started to glimmer as salty tears started to fog up your vision, you were distraught by the news and realized that the people you care about over at Hogwarts like your friends and some of the professors who had made a real impact on you might potentially lose their lives over this war. You wanted to help badly, you wanted to be there to protect the ones you care about, but your parents will never allow it as they fear the worst and might end up losing their one and only child, so you slump and cry over it for days in your grand mansion until you've heard the news a week later that most people have survived the war including the Malfoy's and that the Dark Lord was finally conquered. It took a while, but Hogwarts was rebuilt soon after that, and once September rolled back around Hogwarts was ready to bring in young witches and wizards who were ready to embark on their early education, and even welcome those who were not able to finish their last year back with open arms. You studied hard and kept very much focused on all your classes to the point where your NEWT marks show only Outstanding grades all across, simply showering your parents with great pride and joy to have you as their daughter. This time around you sort of hated the idea of leaving school after graduating, Hogwarts was a nicer and much simpler place without some knucklehead like Draco Malfoy running around taunting people or trying to pull your pisser almost every day to annoy and ruin your schooling experience.

You enjoyed your time at Hogwarts without him, but you do tend to wonder if he was alright, or how he's doing or coping after the war. Your mother and father haven't gotten in touch with the Malfoy for a couple of months now as they went into hiding in their own mansion and kept quiet to themselves, laying low in order to keep them from trouble with the Ministry as they potentially find out the ties that the Malfoy family had with the Dark Lord, so for a while, there weren't many connections between the Callahan's and the Malfoy's, a period of time where you enjoyed life as it is because the one person you truly despise and hated is gone from your life, just like you wanted it too.

Taglist : @igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @nighttimemoonlover @el-de-phi

!Click here for part 2!

[hyperfizationss]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚝.

X male reader smut.

Charlie(yuurivoice) x amab/male (can be gender neutral but it is focused on male) reader

A-after care (what they’re like after sex)

Yeah,no.not that he would like to do it,but he’s either stunned or sleepy after sex,so your the one doing aftercare

B-body part (their and your favorite body part)

Personal headcanon that Charlie has really veiny hands for no reason,so he adores his hands,the way he can hold a joint and grab your dick is amazing.his favorite body part of yours would have to be your hair,long short as long as he can use it to grip you while your sucking his dick he likes it.

C-cum (kinda self explanatory)

He’s has mixed feelings abt it,he doesn’t mind it but he’s not completely into it.but he doesn’t like to swallow it,so don’t try that kinky shit on him

D-dirty secret (also self explanatory)

Desperately wants to be choked out and called a male slut.

E-experience (does he know what he’s doing?)

Charlie has definitely had his share of hookups,he knows what he’s doing but he’ll act like he doesn’t cause he’s a Whiney baby

F- fav position (also kinda self explanatory)

Pirates bounty and suspended congress (both are gay sex positions.and as a girl,I think they both have the funniest name on planet earth)

G-Goofy (how are they in the moment,serious or silly?)

Charlie likes to be a tease,he prefers to keep the bedroom light hearted and fun,he definitely keeps you entertained if you here what I’m saying

H-hair (how well groomed are they,does the carpet match the drapes)

He shaves,nothing special about it.but I do think he’d be a bit harry

I-intamicy (how are they in the moment,on the romantic aspect)

He can be lovey dovey,like dying I love you in low groans as she fucks you

J-Jack off (masturbation hc)

I’ll give you this much,he wants to be caught,he wants you to see him jacking off to a picture of you while you were sucking him off once

K-kink (any kink of theirs)

Praise kink,choking kink(even tho it doesn’t happen) and not sure if this counts but he really likes to slap his dick around your face before you suck him off

L-location (places he likes or has done it)

He’s definitely took you in the closet of Pete’s Pizzeria,and in the back of his car,and he’s pushed you over the kitchen counter before,but he stopped and said he was joking cause he was nervous

M-motivation (what gets him going)

When you admit your horny to him,that could make him cum anytime anywhere

N-no.(something he wouldn’t do)

He wouldn’t be into hate fucking,he’s a strong believer of “we don’t go to bed mad in this house”

O-oral (giver or receiver?)

He honestly doesn’t care,he likes to give just as much as he likes to receive.but don’t make him swallow cum,that’s how you get no oral for a week

P-pace (how fast/rough are they)

He’s fast and rough,he likes hearing you whine ass he fucks your ass and digs his hands into your lower body

Q-quickie (opinions on them)

One simple word

Yes.

R-risk (risky thoughts or experiments)

He so wants to pull you into an alley and give you the best blowing of your life but he’s to afraid to do so

S-Stamina(how many rounds)

Depends on the day,if he didn’t have work he’s more likely to go for about 5 maybe 6,but after a long day he really just needs to cum so maybe 1 or 2 rounds

T-toys (does he own them?like them?)

He personally doesn’t own anything other than a dildo he keeps under his bed,but I’d you have cooler stuff you want to sue on him he’s down

U-Unfair(how much they like teasing)

If you start to whine and say fuck offs and fuck you’s to him he’ll force you to look at him and apologize(which is so hot)

V-Volume (how loud is he)

Oh Jesus he can be loud and whiney,like no matter what the position is,he’s a big whiner

W-Wildcard (random headcanon)

He likes to bite your thighs(god damn I’m mains myself blush,and I’m writing about gay sex)

X-X-ray (how big is he)

A tiny bit over average (6.7 inches)

Y-Yearning ( how high is his sex drive)

Anytime,anywhere,no matter what

Z-zzzzz (how quickly they fall apart)

He gets tired so easily,so easily so he’s asleep almost immediately

Kinda a gift for a friend (i know I usually don’t do smut but ya know ppl change)

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use, lots of mentions of death, sexual themes

a/n ⇢ this one is long - 2.5k words, but i think its my favorite so far!!!!! also please lmk what you guys think in my inbox!

“YOU’RE GLOWING,” Harry teased as Peter shut their apartment door last weekend.

Peter Parker found himself slightly swooned by his evening guest. Days would pass, and Peter would find himself daydreaming like a schoolgirl about when he would see her again. The only problem was he forgot to get her number.

Shit. 

He would sit on his couch and open his laptop, watching as the search engine glared back at him. Think, what would be the best place to start? 

The Trenton! 

That has to be her last name. Duh! And what do you know, a Y/N Trenton does exist! Thousands of results show up. You name it, it's there. Even old news articles.

Should he message her on Facebook? No, she’s older but not 40.

Instagram. Great. On his computer, he sees that she has 10k followers and 162 posts. 

Wow. She’s stunning. He shouldn’t, but he scrolls a bit, finding some old photos. Dozens from her USC days where she had blunt bangs and florescent pink lip color. 

Scrolling down, he clicked on one of her at a college party. He scrolled through the page to see the five other pictures on the post until he eventually stopped. The photos were covered in a golden filter, with Y/N practically devouring this one dude's face. 

Maybe not devouring, but she looks pretty happy kissing his face. He was blonde, with light eyes, nothing like Peter. It stung a bit, but it was from 6 years ago. It couldn’t mean anything now. 

But what in the world was he going to say to her? Peter was so lost, he never had to slide into a girl's DM’s. Eww, it was so odd to think about that. 

“Hey,” he typed out before deleting it, maybe three times with varying amounts of y’s and e’s. 

Then there was “Hi,” or “Hiiiiiii,” or “Sup girl.” No, please do not think like Harry. 

“Hi, Y/N. Remember me? Would you like to meet up for lunch this Thursday?”

“That seemed relatively normal. Right?” He murmured under his breath but, he scratched his head as the pondering developed into pure confusion.

“And, send,” Harry announced after hovering over the couch and Peter’s shoulder to send the DM. 

“Harry!” Peter shouted. “Why the hell would you send that?”

Harry grabbed the laptop after hopping over the couch and Peter snarled as he sat by him. 

“I’m just doing you a favor?”

“Really? First, you tell me to put myself out there, which I do. Next, you butt into my personal life, sending messages that I have no idea were a good idea or not! I mean, why can’t you just leave me alone? What if she doesn’t want to see me again!”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Harry smiled, watching the screen from his lap.

“How the hell would you know?”

“Just see for yourself,” he announced as he turned the laptop around. There sat a reply, 2 seconds ago from Y/N.

“I’d love to.” It read, and Peter smiled to himself for his sweet date this week.  

“You’re welcome.”

“HOW’S SCHOOL?” Y/N asked, walking down the New York City street.

“Hard,” Peter informed, walking alongside her. “Finals are coming up before the break, so I’m studying as much as I can before the weekend is over.”

She nodded, turning her body sideways as she slid between moving bodies. 

“Wow, this is so cool!” She smiled, running up to the nearby paper stands. “The new Spiderman comics. My brother loves them, but I have never seen them in person.”

Peter giggles at her fascination with the book, watching as she flips through the colorful pages. “I never read them, but I always see them on the corner.” 

Peter raised his brows as he gazed at the array of colorful printed books, “Wow, there are hundreds of them.”

“I know, but he always gets them as soon as they come out, or they sell out quickly.” She informed as she closed the book. “I’m talking like he’s a 10-year-old kid. He's a little older than you.” 

He laughed, pulled out his wallet, and gave the cashier some change. Her mouth gaped as he executed the gesture, Peter then putting a small hand in front of her. "I insist. What do you think about Spiderman?”

Y/N looked between Peter and the book, her brows furrowing as she looked at Peter, “I think the work he does is cool. I don’t know much about him, but people love him.” 

"Mostly."

"Yeah, but I feel like those who dislike him are just mad at the fact that they don't have super cool web lasers that shoot from their arms," she laughed, making arm gestures to imitate the hero with her hands, and Peter then laughed. "He's making an impact on the city."  

Y/N gestured towards the printed comic in hand, looking at Peter’s expression, “Like at The Trenton, a local artist is doing a sculpture of multiple 3D spiderwebs layered with these comics and Spiderman newspapers.”

“I’d love to see it.” 

“You can. The only thing is, it won't be ready for another 3 weeks. I can take you to the opening,” she informed. “I will say, I think a lot about who he is. Is he a rogue cop? Some sort of scrawny underdog?” 

She spoke as she began putting the book in her bag as Peter paid the cashier. “Whoever he is, I think he’s a hero.” 

He felt a bit flattered at her sentiment, smiling as he listened to her interest in him as what she called “a hero.” Those words left the mouths of few but when they did, Peter filled with gratitude.

The phone in his pocket began to buzz, and Peter lifted it into his palm, “Damn it.” 

"What time is it?"

"A little past one." 

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to make this cake for a friend, and my Aunt says she can’t come over to help me later.” He informed. 

“I could help.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, placing his phone back in his pocket as he hesitated, “Sure.” 

THEY FOUND THEIR WAY BACK TO PETER’S APARTMENT, Y/N giggling as she placed her bag down. “And you thought that was okay?”

Peter rubbed his nose, curling his lips as breathy chuckles fearfully left his lips, “I was 14 and thought the frosted tips were a ‘look.’” 

“It was definitely... a look.” She said, widening her eyes, moving them across the apartment  “Last time we were here, we uh…”

“Yeah,” he laughed, his eyes squinting as they met hers and laughed in a delightful unison. “I could use a drink. Beer?”

“You have nothing else in this house to drink?” She laughed, “College boys, I swear.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, walking over and opening the door to his fridge.

“I’ll take one.”

“And I’ll get this recipe open. Feel free to look around.” 

Y/N moved around the apartment, looking at shelves and trinkets of stored memories between Peter and his roommate. Some shared, and others individualized. She moved to one of their bookshelves, grazing her fingers along the spines of varying albums and books on their shelf. She stopped at the one bright pink book, resting in the corner and drowning in the bland sea of book covers. 

The hot pink album was coated with foam stickers and glitter, some getting on the shelf and Y/N’s hands as she opened the book. 

Flipping to the first page, there sat a picture of Peter receiving a kiss from a girl with platinum blond bangs and pale skin, her fingers painted a baby pink nail color. 

“Who’s this?” 

Peter swallowed, as he placed two beers on the counter. “Gwen.”

“Why do you have this album with her in it?” 

Her tone wasn’t mad, more curious for his answer, “She made it for me when we were together.”

“And you still have it?”

“She passed,” he informed, raising his brows as his hands slid into his front pockets. “Around 6 years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He repeated, looking at the book in her hands. 

“I overstepped.” She stated, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. 

He shrugged as his lips began to curl further inward on his mouth, “I said you could look around.”

It remained silent as Peter settled more ingredients on his center kitchen aisle, Y/N creeping closer in delicate footsteps, careful in their newfound silence. She sat on the barstool in his kitchen, folding her hands carefully into a neat knot in front of her.

Peter reaches for and guzzles his open beer. He locks his eyes on the ingredients, his long lashes fluttering as the cold liquid slides down his throat. Peter places the empty bottle on his counter, speaking softly as the beer bubbles build in his chest. “Why don’t we make a cake?”

“Okay,” she nods, revealing her smile as she moves to Peter’s side. “What kind?”

“It’s weird, I know, but salted caramel.” He stated, and she jutted her neck backward. “Exactly.”

“Where should I start?”

Peter swiftly travels to the speaker on his bookshelf, blasting rock music and nodding as the beats echo inside his apartment. Y/N’s head finds the beat as the song rushes beats over her stance. 

They whisk themselves around the kitchen, taking turns putting ingredients in the wet and dry bowls as the rhythm picks up under them. Peter reaches for three more drinks, the bottles clinking as they pile up in his trash can, and he wipes his lips free of the smeared alcohol. 

“I didn’t take you for a dancer?" She chuckled as he shook his head on her face, his brown locks tickling her features. 

“Me neither,” he yelled, lifting his head as his words fought with the blasting music. 

With each bottle, his moves got sloppier, and Y/N laughed each time a new move developed in his repertoire. Smiling, his eyes crinkled as he jounced his chest to the down beats of the song. Y/N laughs at his lack of rhythm, and Peter pulls her by her arm to his chest. He whisked Y/N to the kitchen island, swirling her in the air, and settling her down next to the now-panned cake batter. 

He leaned in close, kissing her lips, the wheaty beer taste sizzling on her lips. The kiss was sloppy but sensual as his tongue dipped into her mouth. He pulled her in deeper as his hand slung down to her lower waist, Y/N then pulled away as the oven beeped behind them. 

“The oven,” Y/N whispered as she pulled away. “You should put the cake in.” 

“Right, the cake.”

“WATER?” Peter asked, throwing his body next to Y/N on the couch.

She gave him a knowing look, playfully shoving him as he sat, “You first.”

“Pfft,” he waved, sinking his body on the furniture. “I’m fine.”

His words slurred as his drunken eyes wandered to Y/N’s figure. ”Peter, are sure?” 

He huffed, pointing a finger to his bookcase, “That girl, Gwen. The one you saw earlier in the scrapbook…”

“Her favorite was salted caramel...everything. Salted caramel coffee, salted caramel chocolate, salted caramel ice cream, and especially salted caramel cake. She had it for her birthday every year.” 

“And when is her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.” 

Her lips formed a thin line as she scratched the open part of her chest. She immediately nodded as she pushed her legs from her chest, Peter moving his eyes down her body.  “I don’t want your pity.” 

She raised her brows as she chuckled, the air seeping through her teeth, “I wasn’t going to give you any. Why would you think that?”

“Everyone does.” He wavered. “They all want to tell me where I need to be, when to go out, when to...date. When to talk about her, when not to talk about her.” 

“I mean this, truly, in the nicest way.” She began, placing a hand on his leg. “You said it's been 6 years? Why do you still care about what others think?”

“Because I don’t have much family left,” he informed, slurring his words as he flailed his loose arms in the air. “I need to make them happy.”

“You don’t need to, you want to.” She corrected. “And if they truly loved you, as long as you are happy, they wouldn’t care. At all.” 

“You’re right.” he trailed, “But, I’m not happy. You’re the first date I’ve had in 6 years.”

“You were in high school!” Y/N exclaimed, hitting the back of her hand gently on his shoulder. 

He shrugged,  “I still could have put myself out there in college.”

“Not everyone finds the love of their life in high school and college. Believe me.”

“What does that mean?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked towards her feet, “Nothing.”

Peter put a hand on her knee, leaning closer to her figure, “Tell me.”

“I was engaged to a man I met in college,” she began, glancing vaguely at the left hand in her lap. “About three months ago, he died in a car crash.”

Was it the guy from her pictures?

Peter’s expression softened as he reached for her hand, pulling it to his. “M’Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” she began, her voice softening as she avoided eye contact “I found out, the day I met you, he was having an affair with his secretary. And now, she’s asking for some of his things because she claims, 'he loved her too.'” 

 “Y/N”

“Like you said, I don’t want your pity. I’m okay.” 

“I’m too drunk to give pity,” he slurred, drooping his head to her knees, inhaling as he leaned on her body, forcing her to drop her knees, and his head fell in her lap. She ran a gentle hand along his head, rubbing it slowly along his head.

He lazed in the physical contact, before grabbing her hand from his head. He pulled it to his chest, moving it to the cadence of his soft speech, “Vanilla.” 

“What?” she questioned. 

“You smell like her. Gwen,” he began, raising her hand to his nose and inhaling her scent, “Gwen used to wear some perfume. I forgot the name. I think it was like Vanilla Palm Tree or some sugary scent. I only remember she always smelt like Vanilla mixed with…beach.”

She chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his grasp, “Vanilla mixed with beach? Peter, you are drunk.”

“No no,” he assured as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s… It’s Vanilla Palm Tree.”

“I should leave.”

“It’s why I stayed and brought you home from the bar…”

Y/N felt as the smoke smell rushed through her airways, “You don’t smell that?”

“Smell…smell what..” he muttered as his limbs went limp.

“Peter!” 

Grey lines of smoke trailed the ceiling of his apartment, and Y/N shot up to Peter’s kitchen, “Lightweight...”