#and because i used to have shorter hair. but i grew it out so people would stop calling me a boy

[sluttywoozi]

Nothing But Love | jww x f!reader

Wonwoo's never had a girlfriend for Valentine's Day before, or a girlfriend period, so this day needs to be perfect.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Genre: romance, fluff | Pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

Warnings: food, alcohol, let's pretend it’s the weekend, wonu is loaded (he’s a streamer but i don’t really get into it), wonu’s first relationship aww, wonwoo follows the boyfriend handbook, kissing, some suggestive thoughts, u send him a nude and he malfunctions, no smut in this but i may do a second part if there’s enough interest xoxo

Reader Notes: shorter than wonu (sorry to my tall friends i luv u), wears a dress and heels, has breasts and a vagina

Wonwoo wakes the morning of February 14th with his stomach full of both fluttering butterflies and hefty sandbags. He’s been anticipating this for weeks now and finally, it’s here. Valentine’s Day. 

His first Valentine’s Day. 

Well, sure, he’s been alive for all the others, but this is the first one he’ll spend with someone, and he’s spending it with you, his girlfriend, his first girlfriend. He begged you to let him take care of everything, made all sorts of preparations, and today, it’ll all come to fruition (hopefully). There’s always the chance things could go wrong, and that’s what has Wonwoo’s mind feeling heavy even as his heart feels light. 

He rolls out of bed and scrubs a hand over his hair, not bothering to put on his glasses before he stumbles to the shower, knowing he would forget to take them off and they’d get all fogged up and wet. As he meticulously scrubs down his body, he goes through the plan in his mind. 

First, flowers. 

He placed an order for a bouquet three weeks ago, one with flowers that were carefully chosen to precisely convey his feelings for you. Red tulips for romance and passion, pink dahlias for eternal love and commitment, honeysuckles for devotion and affection, and baby’s breath spread throughout to symbolize everlasting love. He’s so excited to see how it turned out; you love flowers and have many of the meanings memorized by heart, so he knows you’ll know what they mean as soon as you see them. 

Next, he’ll pick up the strawberries. 

You adore strawberries in all forms - fresh, shortcake, compote, jam, jelly. Things with strawberries on them are an almost instant buy for you, meaning half the things you own are covered in them. You’ve even got Wonwoo buying strawberry themed items just because they remind him of you, evidenced by the red seeded mug in his cupboard and the patterned apron hanging in his kitchen, used only by you. So for Valentine’s Day, he went with chocolate covered strawberries, specially ordered for you with piped white chocolate hearts and edible glitter. 

Then, he only has to wait a few hours before he can pick you up and take you to your favorite fancy restaurant. He made the reservations two months ago, expecting it to fill up as the holiday grew closer and closer, and he’s glad he did considering he checked last night and there’s not a single spot left. He’s sure that’s the case for most of the city, and he almost feels sorry for the people who didn’t plan like he did. Almost. 

He closes his eyes as he rinses the conditioner you bought for him out of his hair, running his fingers through the wet strands until they no longer feel slippery and slick before shutting the water off and attempting to shake the excess droplets out. He reaches blindly for the towel and swipes it over his head and along his body until he’s sufficiently dry, stepping up to the bathroom counter and finding his toothbrush. He loads it up with toothpaste and starts brushing, leaning against the counter and huffing out a laugh when he remembers one of the jokes you made last night. 

You’re so funny, and so smart, and so cool and pretty and beautiful and cute and everything Wonwoo could ever want. He’s so fucking lucky to have you. These are thoughts he has all the time, and he supposes he really should tell you them more often. 

It’s hard to be so open when he still feels so shy around you, though. He’s comfortable with you, of course, but being affectionate or initiating things makes him feel bashful and timid. It’s almost like he’s being granted privileges he doesn’t deserve, and he’s reluctant to take full advantage of them because he doesn’t want to take advantage of you.

He spits and rinses quickly, his phone starting to buzz in his room. He races back, not knowing who’s calling but knowing it could be you. Even with blurry vision, he recognizes your contact picture and swipes to accept, bringing the phone up to his ear and plopping down on his bed clothed in nothing but a grin. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, the smile evident in his voice and surely picked up by you. He still gets a little thrill from calling you that. 

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you respond happily. “I just wanted to check in and see if I could do anything to help today.”

“I’ve got it all covered,” he assures you with pride, feeling his spine straighten and his chest puff out when you tell him, “Of course you do, you’re such a good planner.”

The conversation easily flows from one topic to the next, with you jokingly trying to uncover his plans the whole time. He can tell you don’t really want to spoil the surprise so he doesn’t give in, redirecting you with every attempt until he’s laying flat on his bed an hour later, his hair dry and his heart full. 

“Baby, I wish I could stay, but I have to go,” he reluctantly says, checking his watch and seeing a notification from the florist that your bouquet is ready for pickup. 

You say goodbye with a pout in your voice, but he knows it’s more playful than real so he doesn’t worry about leaving you too much. He still, of course, thinks about you the whole way to the flower shop, your voice and your laugh and your beauty on his mind as he coasts through traffic on his motorbike. 

The parking lot is full when he arrives, bar the motorcycle spots, and he wonders how many people are here for pre orders and how many are here last minute. They’re all in the same line so it doesn’t really matter, and with a small sigh, he joins at the back. 

He wastes time by scrolling through your shared album, the one you made in the early days for memes that swiftly became a repository for pictures of each other. He mostly cares about the ones of you, but it’s nice to see pictures of himself too, to see the way his smile reaches his eyes, to see the love he has for you in them. It’s his turn in what feels like no time, and he gives his name to the clerk, glancing around the shop placidly so they don’t feel like he’s rushing them. 

“I’ll be right back with your bouquet,” they say with a smile, turning and disappearing into a back room before emerging with an arrangement of reds and whites. “Does it look like you imagined?”

He beams as he accepts the flowers, inspecting them and naming every single one in his head before turning back to the clerk and thanking them, “They’re perfect, thank you so much.”

He paid when he pre ordered so that’s all there is to it. The queue is even longer when he leaves, and he tries to hide the sympathetic grimace as he passes the long line of waiting people. He hits a bit of a snag when he realizes he doesn’t know the best way to get the bouquet home, deciding in the end to just put it in his backpack and hope for the best. 

It’s not a long ride back to his apartment, and thankfully the flowers are only a little squashed when he pulls them out of his bag. They perk up when he puts them in water and the vase he bought for you, green milkglass with little painted strawberries dotted all over, and he smiles proudly, knowing you’ll love both the flowers and the vase. 

The chocolate covered strawberries should be ready soon, and he wonders if he should uber to pick them up. Usually, he loves just having a motorcycle, but at times like these, he wishes he had a car too. 

If it were any other day, for anything else, he’d ask you to take him. Unfortunately, he can’t ruin the surprise, so you’re out of question. Who else can he ask?

Wonwoo | mingyu will u take me to whole foods

Mingyu | Uhhh, sure, why?

Wonwoo doesn’t reply. 

With the strawberries secured, all Wonwoo has to do is wait four hours. He’s picking you up at 6:15 for your 6:30 reservation, and he thanks everyone he can think of - God, Mingyu, Mingyu’s partner - for the fact that they're staying in and Mingyu is letting him borrow his car. 

He knows you love the bike, but you’ll probably wear a dress tonight (fuck, he loves you in dresses) and he thinks a car might be better. He can always take you out on a late night ride after you change if you want. 

He passes the time first by tidying his apartment and picking out his outfit, and then by doing his streaming for the day, an alarm set to remind him to get ready and go pick you up around six. 

It goes off without him realizing it’s been hours, not minutes, since he started, the games blurring together until they felt like one continuous match. He stands on creaky knees and stretches, his face scrunching with the feeling of the ache in his back releasing, before shuffling to his bedroom and changing into the clothes he laid out on his bed. 

After brushing his teeth, he messes with his hair, combing through it with his fingers and attempting to get it to lay right. It’s getting longer and he doesn’t really know what to do with it, but you love the length and that’s all that matters to him. He slaps on some moisturizer then sprays some cologne, the one he’s found to be your favorite, before jogging to the door and slipping into his shoes. 

The strawberries and flowers are for when you come over after dinner so all he needs are the keys, and still, he almost forgets them. He dashes to the kitchen to grab them, swiping them off the counter and racing back through the door to the garage, telling Siri to text you that he’s on the way as he runs. 

Mingyu’s car is nice, a champagne colored Audi sedan, and it hums to life when he presses the remote start. He feels very debonair with his fancy car and tailored slacks, and as he climbs into the driver’s seat, he hopes you’ll be at least a little impressed. 

Mainly he wants you to feel special and loved, but he has to admit, he wants to prove himself too, prove that he can be a good boyfriend, a great boyfriend, for you. A boyfriend who thinks ahead and plans and provides, who knows your taste and what matters to you. A boyfriend who’s learned how to make you happy and strives to do so. 

It’s not that he thinks you doubt him, it’s just that he feels a little out of his depth with you. This is his first real relationship so he doesn’t have a lot of experience, and while he knows that you’re patient and kind and forgiving, he doesn’t ever want you to feel like he’s falling short.

He tries to remind himself you’ve given no indication you think that as he pulls up to your apartment, sliding into one of the fifteen minute spaces before putting the car in park and getting out. Checking his watch as he walks, he notes the time and smiles. He should arrive exactly when he said he would. 

If the fucking elevator would come, that is. 

He taps his foot, reaching out and pressing the button again, then tapping it incessantly when it still doesn’t light up. 

“It’s broken,” he hears your voice off to the side and whips his head over, his eyes widening when he catches sight of you standing in front of the door leading to the stairs. His hand falls limply to his side, his breath stalling in his lungs as you start to walk closer. You’re holding a purse and your heels, your feet protected by your outside slides and your overnight bag slung over your shoulder, and like he thought you would be, you’re wearing a dress. 

It’s strappy, sleek, and you glow in it, the reds and pinks flattering your complexion and the fit flattering your curves, the watercolor silk gliding over your body like he wishes his hands could. A devious voice in the back of his mind whispers that you may not be wearing a bra but he disregards it, focusing instead on how beautiful you look and how few words he has in his brain. 

Closer and closer you get and still, Wonwoo is speechless. 

He can’t summon his voice, can barely summon thoughts, and when you set your bag down and reach out to feel his sweater, he knows there’s no way he’ll survive a whole night of you looking like this. 

“Landlord’s out of town or there would be a sign,” you whisper, letting your hand smooth up his chest and wrap around the back of his neck, your nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin. 

As if he were in a trance, he leans down, his eyes slipping closed and his lips parting as he presses them softly to yours. He takes his time relearning the shape of your mouth, rediscovering the different ways it can fit with his as he kisses you, his heart pounding in his chest at the way you kiss him back. 

He’s about to swipe his tongue over your bottom lip, about to drop his hands to your waist and deepen the kiss, when the entry door bursts open and voices fill the lobby. He gasps, breaking the kiss and stepping back from you before taking your hand, throwing your bag over his shoulder, and nodding over to the door, “We should probably go. Don’t want to be late.”

Breathless, you blink at him and nod, following when he starts to tug you to the exit. He doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you to the car, carefully looking both ways before pulling you across the street. Unlocking the car and turning it on with his other hand, he brings you around to the passenger side and opens your door, waiting for you to get in and closing it once you set your purse down. 

He jogs around to the driver’s side and slides into the car, checking his mirrors before pulling out onto the road and heading toward the restaurant. He was already listening to your shared mix on the way here, so it’s no surprise when your favorite song comes on. You gasp and aww at him like he planned it and he just laughs and takes your hand again, resting your combined grasp on your soft thigh. 

You tell him about your day as he drives, detailing your time at the nail salon and showing him your new set at a stoplight before extolling the virtues of afternoon naps and getting ready slowly over three hours instead of getting ready quickly in one. 

Not everything makes sense to him, like how gel can be nail polish and how one can spend three hours getting ready, but he’s happy to listen and happier to feel you squeeze his hand in excitement at different points in your stories. You pull away only to put your heels on, leaning down to buckle the sides and returning your hand to his. 

For once, Wonwoo can do valet, so he pulls into the loop in front of the restaurant and hands the keys over, glaring at the other valet when he goes to open your door. The man backs away, holding his hands up and heading to the next car as Wonwoo jogs around to your side. He lives for opening your doors (and paying for your nails and sending you money for food and planning your dates and and and), so you know to wait for him to get it for you. 

You told him he didn’t need to do all that in the beginning, but he gently begged you to let him. He’s never been a boyfriend before, he wants to do well, and he’s slightly embarrassed to admit he models his behavior after Mingyu’s. Mingyu and his partner are so happy, so in love, it’s almost displeasing to encounter, and Wonwoo can’t help but want the same for you and him. 

Hopefully with less public displays of affection, though the kiss in the lobby earlier doesn’t bode well. 

He can control himself though, he must, because being physical in public makes you shy and he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, no matter how fucking cute you are when you get shy. You are okay with holding hands though, and he’s thankful for that as he takes yours to help you out of the car. 

He experiences the moment almost in slow motion, his heart stuttering before picking up as you smile up at him and rise, stepping up onto the curb so the valet can take the car. This brings you into his space and his brain goes foggy at the smell of your perfume, his free hand coming up to your waist as if on instinct. 

It doesn’t stay for long as you step past him, pulling him to the gilded glass doors of the restaurant. You’ve only come here once as it’s rather expensive, but the food is incredible and apparently the cocktails are too. Wonwoo isn’t much of a drinker but he may indulge in a glass of red wine tonight, especially as he’s planning on steak. 

He tugs the heavy door open, following you in and stopping at the host’s desk. 

“We have a reservation for 6:30, Jeon Wonwoo,” he waits as the host looks up his name, holding his breath until the host smiles and swipes two menus and sets of silverware from the desk. 

“Right this way,” they smile and turn to lead them through a sea of tables. Wonwoo lets you go first, still holding tightly to your hand as your heels click on the marble in front of him. 

The table is in a nice spot, a corner booth that's actually quite secluded, and you beam excitedly at him as you slide into your side. 

Discussion of what to order begins, with you debating between steak, pasta, and just ordering four appetizers. Wonwoo already knows what he wants so he can devote his focus to helping you choose, though he wants to tell you to just get everything. You’d probably be scandalized by that, especially because this is the kind of restaurant where the menu doesn’t have prices. 

In the end, you order pasta and he convinces you to get two appetizers as well, tacking onto his order the other two you wanted. You glower at him half heartedly but squeeze his hand in thanks, already perusing the drink menu. 

Wonwoo and you are both lightweights, so it’s likely you’ll only get one and he’s sure you want to choose the best. He already ordered his glass of wine, asking the server for a recommendation that would pair well with the steak and that had a relatively low alcohol percentage. 

Wonwoo used to fear you’d run out of things to talk about considering how much time you spend together, but there’s always something to discuss. Some work gossip or scandal in the streaming world to share, plans for the future to draw out, nonsense debates to pass the time that almost never have a winner or a loser. 

He’s generally a quiet person unless you get him going or activate the small part of him that’s a little maniacal, but he hasn’t been quiet with you since the beginning, since you asked if you were annoying him with all your ‘chatter’. He made an effort to engage and respond after, and now, it doesn’t even take any thought. Now, talking to you is as easy as breathing is (when you’re not around, at least). 

The appetizers arrive, you order your cocktail, and before he knows it, mains are being delivered. His steak is perfectly cooked, tender and pink and flavorful, and the sound you make when you take a bite of your pasta is absolutely sinful. It has him thinking thoughts that do not need to be thought in public, has him remembering things that are not conducive to him looking at you and keeping his free hand to himself. 

It’s relatively quiet while you eat, just sprinkles of conversation between bites, you holding out a forkful of your pasta for him to try and him reciprocating with a small piece of steak. You hum in delight and so does he, grinning at the way your shoulders wiggle when you get a particularly tasty bite. 

You’re both too full for dessert and he’s got some waiting for you at home anyway, so when you both finish eating, all the server brings is the bill. He’s sure you’re both itching to peek at the total and distressed at the thought of finding out so he keeps it close to his chest, freeing his hand from yours to get his wallet out of his pocket. He slips his black card into the folder and places it on his side of the table, nodding when you rise and tell him you’re going to freshen up. 

You’ve only been gone a minute when his phone pings, so he figures he has enough time to answer it before you get back. He smooths his face out, letting the phone read it and unlock before going to his messages. 

Oddly enough, it’s from you. 

And it’s a picture? 

Unsuspectingly, he opens it, gasping at what he finds and slamming his phone face down on the table before anyone else can see the screen. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he mutters under his breath, forcing a smile when the server picks up the bill and rearranging the napkin on his lap as his dick stirs. Even with his eyes open, he can still see the picture. 

Can see you, the straps of your dress down by your elbows and one arm hugging your waist under your breasts, pushing them up for him. Your skin was radiant, the necklace he got you for your three month anniversary resting gently on your collarbones, and your nipples were pebbled, hard (was it cold or did you touch them? fuck, he hopes you touched them). 

The server arrives with his credit card and you still haven't returned, so he wills his cock to stop thickening and stands, checking over the table to be sure you haven’t left anything before walking to the front of the restaurant. 

Wonwoo | u are evil evil evil 

Wonwoo | need them in my mouth

Wonwoo | im by the front btw

He hears heels clicking on the marble behind him and doesn’t need to turn to know it’s you, doesn’t even jump when your arm weaves around his, though he does briefly let his eyes flutter shut when he feels the warm press of your breast against his arm. God and now he knows you’re not wearing a bra…

It takes all of his strength just to take a step forward, and another after that, until somehow he makes it to the valet stand, reaching into his wallet for the ticket before handing it to the waiting employee. You shiver, stepping closer to him when a cool breeze sweeps through, and Wonwoo kicks himself for not bringing a coat. 

He’s a bit chilly too so he can barely offer you any warmth but he frees his arm and wraps you up against his side anyway, Mingyu’s car pulling up after just a minute or two. The valet leaves the driver’s side door open and jogs around, accepting the cash Wonwoo slips him as a tip before dropping the keys in his open hand and giving him a nod. 

Wonwoo opens your door with his free hand, gently shutting it after you’ve climbed in and gotten settled. He takes large steps around the car, sinking into his side and shifting into drive before slowly pulling away from the restaurant. 

He heads towards his apartment instead of yours - you like sleeping over at his place more because he has a nicer bed - and rather than holding your hand, he holds your thigh, your flesh warm through the thin silk of your dress. 

The drive is tense, quiet, his fingers tightening on the wheel as your thigh flexes under his hand, your legs pressing together, trapping it. He’s not bold enough to work it higher and he needs to focus on driving anyway, but that doesn’t mean his mind isn’t full of thoughts of sliding it up, finding you wet and wanting, bringing you to the edge and then pulling away, over and over until he turns into his parking spot. 

Which happens before he expects it to, his brain so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice the time passing. He shifts into park and exits the car, his hand feeling cold where it used to be touching you, before running to get your door and help you out of the car. He takes a second to grab your overnight bag from the back before accepting the hand you hold out and letting you tug him to the door. 

His keycard grants him access, the door unlocking with a click as he wraps his free hand around the handle, pulling it open and following you inside. It’s hard not to stare at you as you walk, at the slope of your nearly bare shoulder, the curve of your waist, the bounce of your ass, and there’s no reason not to, which is just one of the many privileges of being your boyfriend. 

Another comes after he’s gotten you into his apartment, your heels slipped off and your arms wrapped around his neck as you kiss him for all he’s worth. 

AN: Happy Valentine's Day!!! lowkey for my bestie @sluttywonwoo ily you're the only valentine i need 💖sorry for the fade to black, i do plan on continuing this! i just had to scrap my other idea and i wrote most of this today so my brain is tired, i hope u understand 🫶

Part II

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport. 

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be. 

Still, she wants to make sure. 

Just in case. 

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.  

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way. 

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age. 

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch. 

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport. 

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least. 

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace. 

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal. 

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security. 

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it: 

6:45, Ryanair, Naples. 

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter. 

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight. 

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this? 

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it. 

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant. 

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later. 

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood. 

She knows she will. She can see it happening. 

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head. 

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again. 

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet. 

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.  

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong. 

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her. 

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again. 

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile. 

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice. 

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe. 

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks. 

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy? 

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest. 

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it". 

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again. 

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for. 

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again. 

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it? 

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered. 

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it. 

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps! 

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered. 

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection. 

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge. 

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant. 

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips. 

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't— 

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time. 

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!" 

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck. 

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back. 

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug. 

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold. 

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go. 

Did he get even taller? 

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles. 

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend? 

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk." 

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace. 

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm. 

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.  

Harry clears his throat. 

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little. 

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself. 

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks. 

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him. 

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers. 

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that." 

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?" 

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't." 

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…" 

"Will you stop being stubborn?" 

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement. 

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up. 

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter. 

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?" 

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow." 

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right." 

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face. 

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her. 

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?" 

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah." 

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin. 

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—  

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts. 

"What?" 

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears. 

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him. 

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still… 

"The line," Harry murmurs. 

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor. 

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat. 

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up. 

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before. 

How could she forget about him? 

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit. 

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers. 

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—  

"Auri?" 

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going. 

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation. 

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again. 

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences. 

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again. 

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking. 

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah." 

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods. 

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line. 

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah. 

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce. 

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them. 

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five. 

Aurora nods. 

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—" 

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around. 

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet. 

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears. 

Please, don't blush. 

Please, don't blush. 

Please just keep it together. 

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face. 

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward. 

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head. 

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

[goldenbuckyyy]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

Summary: You and Harry have a secret affair.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader (cheating together) Main characters x original characters.

Word Count: 4.5kish

Warnings: Cheating (Harry and Reader together), raw sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, slight dirty talk, undertones of dom!Harry if you squint, anything else? Let me know!

A/N: I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while now, had about maybe 500 words written, and then decided to finish it last night. And I love the way it came out. Hopefully you do as well!! Song inspiration: “Illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift.

Also thank you for 500 followers. 🥹🫶🏻 Thank you all for showing me so much love!! 💓

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have come. 

You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to overthink about the situation as you feel the back of your neck start to sweat, you mumble a cuss word as you take a peak at yourself in your compact mirror, and let out a stiff sigh. 

You adjust the top of your satin orange dress. You fell in love with this dress the moment you saw it at the shops. It was a different color than you were used to wearing, but it looked lovely on you. It had semi-thick straps to hold your breasts up nicely, a corset style on the waist that hugged your curves, it cut down up to your shin, and flowed beautifully. 

You admit you wanted to look good today. And you did. You felt stunning. 

You feel your fiancée’s arm wrap around your shoulders, trying your best not to flinch at his touch, because his touch isn’t the one you want. 

But you can’t have the other. 

“Geez, you’re freezing!” He exclaims in his full blown American accent, rubbing your shoulders with his warm hands as he places his lips on your forehead lightly.

You laugh, “Bloody church is so damn cold.” You give him a smile, leaning yourself into his embrace, as you both watch the people around you fill the seats. 

You look up at him, guilt pooling into your belly, and you give him a small smile. 

Feeling guilty for loving him and for loving Harry. For loving them both. 

Your fiancée isn’t a bad man. No, never bad. Has never been bad. You don’t think he has one bad bone in his body.

He was the sweet, golden, all American boy. He is a wonderful man and isn’t rough on the eyes either. 

He’s tall like Harry, maybe an inch or two shorter, bright ocean blue eyes, chiseled jawline, tanned skin from all your beach trips, blonde hair that is styled to his liking, but you love when it’s freshly washed and falls down his forehead. 

He’s a beautiful man. You loved him so much, you had been dating him for two years now, but yet… a part of you was in love with Harry. 

Your first love. You dated Harry before he went to X-Factor, way before that, you were in an established relationship with him. You both had kissed other people before you got together. But nothing ever went farther. 

You got together and it was as if the world suddenly made sense. You fell in love with Harry so fast and it was everything a teenage relationship could be. Then it grew into something stronger, more passionate, and stronger as you both got older. 

You were each other’s firsts, taking the time to find out what made you squirm, and what made you cum the hardest. 

You were with him through X-Factor, his one direction days, even during his first album. 

But then… things happened. Life changed between you two. You both had never been with anybody new. Nobody different. You had broken up on good terms back in 2017. You promised that if it didn’t work out with anybody else, you’d come back to each other somehow. 

That didn’t happen. 

You dated a few different people, some amazing, and some assholes. Harry did the same. You both kept communication with each other, that never faltered. 

Harry released his second album in 2019, a few songs about you that he never wanted to admit, and when you were both single at the same time… you’d end up in the same bed. 

Nothing more. 

2020 happened and you felt tired of the same routine. You wanted something more. You wanted a family. You were going to speak to Harry about what you felt and how you wanted this with him. 

Then… you met Asher. 

It was like a movie. You were texting Harry, walking down the NYC streets to your apartment, not paying attention to your surroundings, when you bumped into Asher, who caught you before you hit the floor, and you remember the feeling of when you first laid your eyes on him. 

You remember your heart fluttering in your chest at this blue eyed man with a wicked smile. He literally swept you off your feet. Long forgotten the text you were typing to Harry about meeting up the same day. 

Instead, you went for a coffee date with Asher. Your belly was hurting that night from all the laughter you shared together. 

He was amazing with a sense of humor so insane, he kept you laughing all day. You have been wrapped around his finger since day one. Now it’s been two wonderful years with him. 

That’s why when Harry reached out to you six months ago, while Asher was away on business, you hesitated. 

You remember staring at the phone, rereading his text message, and biting your lip in thought. 

“Can we meet up tonight? I really want to see you xx” said the text. You were already out and about in the London streets with your girlfriends. Having moved back to your home country with Asher. You were buzzing with liquid courage and replied, “Yeah. Where are you? xx” 

He had sent you the address to his secret London hotel and suddenly, there you were outside the baby blue door. 

Harry had opened the door, messy brown curls, a bewildered look on his face, and wearing only black shorts. 

You stared at each other. Hadn’t seen each other in almost a year. Not since you had dinner at some fancy restaurant in LA when you both had managed to be in the same city for once. There were a lot of lingering touches and twinkling eyes that night in a secluded booth. 

Nothing happened that night. But that was a year ago. 

You with Asher and him with Vivian. Vivian was a model, she was stunning, and you swore you weren’t jealous of her.

“I’m getting married,” he says, his eyes dropping to your lips. 

“Asher proposed,” you reply, your heart racing, and lips parting. 

His eyes leave your face, taking in your red mini dress, your bare thighs, and suddenly you’re in a passionate kiss. 

The night is filled with kissing, touching, fingers everywhere, tongue in places you love, positions he loves to see you in, and countless orgasms. 

That was six months ago and that night ran through your thoughts endlessly. The way his hands touched you that night made you feel on fire, the way his kisses felt as if it was what you had been missing, and the way he felt inside of you… it made you feel whole. 

You snap out of your thoughts when Asher pinches your exposed thigh. 

“It’s staring,” he whispers as you both stand up when the bridal music starts playing. Asher moves you to be in front of him to see the bride better and you instantly tear you when you see her. 

Your heart feels heavy as you watch Gemma walk down the aisle in her beautiful wedding dress with Harry walking beside her, her arm wrapped around his, and tears in her eyes as she watches all the people she loves here for her today. 

Her handsome husband to be, Michal, waiting for her at the end with a breathtaking smile and looking starstruck. 

Harry kisses her cheek as he hands her to Michal at the end, wiping a quick tear away from her cheeks, and you can see the whispered “I love you”. 

Harry moves to stand in the empty seat in the front row, a few rows in front of you, but across the aisle and Vivian wraps her arm around his. 

She looks beautiful. Her long blonde hair falling down her exposed back in ringlets, her tanned skin glimmering underneath the lights, and her perfect body in a long baby pink dress with a slit to show off her never ending legs. You hate the way your gut fills with jealousy. 

But Harry doesn’t look down at her. 

Instead, he slowly tilts his head to the side as the bride and groom exchange vows, while the whole crowd is watching them, and he’s looking for you. 

You glance up at Asher who’s staring at the couple with a big smile. You look back at Harry and his eyes are already on you. 

He smirks, his eyes taking in your outfit, and his expression darkens. He winks at you when you both make eye contact and you blush under his stare. 

You quickly look away from him when you feel Asher wrapping his arm around your waist, on instinct you lean your body back into his, and jump when you feel how hard he is against you. 

Your eyes go wide as he leans down to you and whispers, “I can’t wait to fuck you in your wedding dress.”

“Asher!” You whisper at him with a gaping mouth, but a smile nonetheless. 

Your sex life with Asher was anything but boring. It was never boring with him. 

He was just like Harry in the way that he was a giving lover. He’d rather give, give, give and then take. 

That’s why a part of you feels torn as to why you feel so happy with Asher. So content and lucky. But yet… when you’re with Harry, you feel whole. You feel as if he’s what you’re missing in your life. A part of you can’t let him go. 

You want to tear your heart out for feeling this way because it’s a constant battle with your brain. Because you know what you did was wrong. In so many ways. But somehow, you know you don’t regret what happened. 

You only wish for it to happen again. 

You proceed to sit down, crossing your leg over the other, and listen intently to the couple saying their vows. 

Your eyes glancing between the couple and to the back of the head of curls. The curls you love. The curls you can still feel underneath your fingertips when you’d tug on them. 

Your skin breaks out into goosebumps, Asher notices, and kisses your shoulder. “Gets you nervous too, huh?” He whispers into your ear. You nod without taking your eyes off the couple. He slips his hand into yours and you hold onto him to try to distract your mind from Harry. 

You have no idea how you’re going to make it through the night. 

It happened after midnight. 

You were already four drinks in, sipping on your fifth cocktail of the night, and standing up as you watched Asher dance with Anne with a big smile on your face. 

You feel someone pat your shoulder, you look over to see a young brunette waitress holding a folded up piece of paper, she hands it to you quickly with a smile, and goes back to serving drinks. 

You hum, holding your drink in your hand, and sprawling the note open. 

Meet me in the bridal room in 10 xx 

Your eyes widen as you crush the paper in your palm, eyes searching for him, and you still when you meet his own. 

Harry is standing across from you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink, and he smirks at you. Vivian is at his side, laughing at something Gemma said, and without a single clue. 

You lick your lips, drown your drink in one gulp, and go to the dance floor to Asher. The song had just finished, Anne was laughing and waving at her face, and reached to you to kiss your cheek when she saw you. 

“He’s a gem, baby!” She says as she pinches Asher’s cheek and proceeds to walk away. 

You nod at her words, looking up at Asher, “I’m going to pop to the restroom, okay babe?“ 

He kisses your lips quickly, nodding, his eyes searching for something. “Go ahead, babe. Searching for my next dance victim.” 

You giggle as you watch him taunt off to one of Harry’s aunts, who immediately falls into Asher’s hold for the next song, and you search the room for Harry. 

Who had already left Vivian’s side. 

You start to walk off the dance floor when you feel someone catch your arm. 

You stop when you see Vivian holding onto you, you smile quickly, and she does the same. 

“You look beautiful, honey.” Her pink tinted lips expand to show her beautiful white teeth. Her posh southern English accent flowed out lavishly. 

You hold her hands in yours, “Don’t flatter me! You look breathtaking.” 

“Harry went off for a smoke, yuck.” She says with a childish grin and sticking out her tongue in disgust. 

“Gross habit, huh?” You joke as you try not to show how awkward you feel. 

“Has he invited you to the wedding yet? We set the date for October.” 

You nod your head, “Of course! I can't wait!” You lie through your teeth as she sighs happily and hugs you unexpectedly. 

You stumble in your heels, hugging her back, and patting her shoulders slightly. 

She hums in content in your arms, “I’m so happy we can be so civil with each other.” She pulls away and holds onto your elbows. “Especially with you and Harry’s history,” she whispers as if it’s some secret. 

You laugh and wave your hands at her, “Nonsense! But I do have to run, Viv. I have to freshen up.” 

She immediately lets you go, smiling, and she waves you off. Then she continues to go back to speaking to another group of guests. 

You stare at her for a second, second guessing your upcoming actions, but then proceed to go down the long hallway towards the bathrooms. 

You had no idea how to get to the bridal suite. You fumble with a door in the back, which leads you to a stairwell, you shiver with nerves, and start walking up the secluded stairs. 

You manage to get to the second floor, the music sounded muffled up here, and the carpet hid the sound of your heels. You walk slowly as you peer into the doors down the hallway. 

You suddenly feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you into a dark room, you let out a low gasp, and the door shuts quietly behind you. 

You're pushed against the door, the light flickers on, and Harry’s standing in front of you. You hear the lock click behind you. 

“What took you so long?” He says breathlessly, his big  hands falling onto the curves of your waist, pressing his hips against you, and you can already feel how hard he is against you. 

His gaze fixed on you, green eyes piercing into yours, and his hands caress your waist. 

You bite your bottom lip as you take him in, “Your fianc��e did,” you reply bluntly. The alcohol flowing in your system makes you feel brave. 

He hums in response, but doesn’t falter at your comment. His eyes taking you in. 

“You look bloody fantastic,” he says as he places his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into a rough kiss. His hands on your face making your skin feel as if it’s on fire. Goosebumps erupt over your skin and you feel flushed already. 

You immediately wrap your hands around his shoulders, pulling him into you, and opening your mouth for him. Your tongue fighting against his, moaning into each other's mouths, his hands bundling up your dress higher and higher. His hand moving down to your core, he gasps when he feels you bare against him, his fingers touch your smooth and soaked core and his knees weaken. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re not wearing any pantries?” He asks in shock, his mouth open in a pant, you’re sucking his bottom lip, shaking your head, and hitching your hips to him so he can touch you. You can feel yourself throbbing and aching for him already. 

He slips a finger into your drenched folds, you moan in pleasure, feeling his cold fingers against your hot skin, he starts peppering your neck with open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of saliva and licks on you. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he moans against your covered breasts, he slides down the straps of your dress, you help him, tugging down your dress to reveal your naked breasts, and he moans as he sees them. He immediately pulls one of your nipples into his mouth, his finger still working you open, he slips in a second finger, and you tilt your head back against the door in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as your hands go into his gelled up hair, tugging at his curls knowing he loves it, and his fingers move faster in you. His thumb slips to touch your clit, you jump at the sensation, and he starts rubbing you. 

He slips another finger into you, curling them in, you let out a deep moan as he works up his speed, you move your leg to wrap around his waist to give him better access, and he continues to lick your breasts. Sucking each nipple into his mouth with pleasure. 

You’re already a panting mess underneath him as his fingers work you open, curling at the perfect angle, his thumb moving delicately at the right pace against your clit, getting you closer to your release, and he knows you're almost there. 

“Your pussy is fucking drenched for me,” he whispers, licking up your neck, pulling your lips into his as your leg thightens against him. 

You start moving your hips faster, knowing his cock must be aching right now, he hisses at the contact, increasing his speed, and you cry out in pleasure. 

“I’m close,” you say with a shaky breath. 

“Let go, baby. Come for me,” he growls into your ear, “Soak my fingers,” he demands. As soon as he speaks your body reacts to his words. Your entire body seizes with your release. 

You feel your entire body shaking against him, your wetness drenching his hand, down your thighs, and Harry continues to praise you. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

“So fucking good for me.” 

“You’re fucking mine.” 

“Such a good fucking girl,” he says as he manhandles your body towards the nearest surface. He slips his fingers out of you, you cry out at the emptiness, he shushes you, and lifts you up by your hips onto the bathroom countertop. 

He shoves your dress up to your waist as he starts unbuckling his belt. You take this time to admire him. His white button down shirt was buttoned down to reveal his butterfly tattoo, the sleeves were rolled up, his hair was disheveled by your touch, his skin was flushed, and his eyes were blown out in pleasure. 

You moan when you see him shove his pants down along with his underwear, his hard cock fumbling out, thick and throbbing. The tip of his cock red and angry, leaking precum. 

“I want you,” you moan at him with grabby hands. He pulls you into a kiss, licking the roof of your mouth, and he pulls away to align himself to your entrance. 

You both take a second to look at each other, staring into each other's eyes, and he enters you slowly. Your jaw falling slack as you feel him enter you. 

His cock spreads you open, slowly and tightly, never getting used to how huge he is. Your walls are burning around him, feeling him throbbing inside of you, you pull your legs to your side to allow him better access, one of his hands on your waist to hold you and the other against the bathroom mirror. 

He bottoms out inside of you, his public hair rubs against your bare core, you moan at feeling him so deep inside of you, and you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him closer to you as he starts to move. 

He starts off trusting into you slowly, letting you adjust to him, you can feel him so deep in you, both panting, he puts his free hand underneath your dress on your lower stomach, he moans when he feels himself there, “Fuck. Can you feel me here, baby?” 

His raspy breath is on you as you nod against him. You push your hips against his to show him how deep he is, his hand grips your naked thigh, “Fuck!” He curses out in a whisper. 

You clench your teeth together to stop yourself from being too loud, his thrusting becomes faster and more erratic, he allows himself to get lost in your pussy, feeling blissful and euphoric as he thrusts deeply into you. 

You kissed him frantically, savoring every second you have with him, his hands never stopped touching your skin, and he continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace. 

“Harry,” you moan out, “You’re so deep.” You cry out, your head tilting back against the mirror, and letting the feeling of pleasure overtake your body. 

“That’s it, sugar. Let the pleasure take over you,” Harry says slowly, letting his cock thrust into you, admiring the view underneath him, your chest heaving up and down, your nipples perked up and hard, and your skin flushed in a slight coat of sweat. 

You whine as you continue to roll your hips against him, “I’m close,” you whisper. Your hands moving to his shoulders, holding him in the right position, his hands moving down to grip your waist, allowing you to move on his cock as you wished. 

“Come with only my cock, Princess.” He demands, his lips swollen by your mouth, and you can only nod. Drunk off his cock. 

“I..” you start, feeling your release coming closer, “I’m almost there,” you whisper sweetly to him, you pull his face to yours, kissing him, and you feel yourself come undone underneath him. 

Your mouth falls open with moans, eyes squeezing shut, your walls clenching around his pulsating cock, and he continues to thrust into you. 

“That’s my good fucking girl,” Harry praises you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, he follows your release as he lets his orgasm take over him. He releases into you, his cock pumping his seed into you, your pussy clenching on him, and you both pull into each other. Lips wrapped together. 

“Fuck-such a good girl. Taking all of my babies,” he whispers into your mouth as your pussy continues to milk him dry. You both slow down, letting yourself come down your orgasms, and you smile when he peppers your face with kisses. 

He slips out of your sensitive pussy slowly, he walks over to the spare sink, wetting down a washcloth, he walks up to you, eyes never leaving yours, and he reaches down to clean you up slowly. 

You gasp at his touch, his finger slipping into your wet pussy, and he pushes in his sperm deeper inside of you. His eyes watching you drunkenly, “Filled to the brim with my babies.” 

You kiss his cheek when he pulls out, cleans you up nicely, and you slide off the counter. You adjust your dress, fixing your straps, and wiping away any makeup that got messed up. 

Harry is standing behind you as he watches your every move as he cleans himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips himself up. He washes his hands, with a smirk on his lips, and you do the same. It’s quiet now. No more moans or cries or whines anymore. But it’s a calming silence around you. 

You both finish cleaning yourselves up. You turn to look at each other, eyes locking, hands intertwining, and you both lean into each other. His big palm on your cheek, lips brushing against yours, and he pulls your lips against his. 

Kissing slowly. 

His forehead leaning against yours, “Just say it.” 

The unspoken words he wants you to say. You know you can’t. Because you know the minute you say them, he'll do it. He'll leave Vivian without a second thought and you can’t bear the thought of you both breaking the hearts of people you love. 

But are you really doing any better? 

You’re still fucking Harry every chance you get. You just had sex with him with both of your fiancés downstairs.

“We can’t,” you whisper sadly, gripping his hand on your cheek, and you give him one last longing kiss. 

His lips reach for yours when you pull back, his thumb on your lips, his eyes open back up, and you give him a sad smile. 

“Let’s get back to them?” You ask. He nods and unlocks the door. 

“You go first,” he says. You can hear the hurt in his voice, but decide to not comment on it. Knowing what he will say. 

You grip his hand tightly then let go. You fix your dress one last time and give him one last look before heading back downstairs. 

You stop at the bar to get a drink to not look too suspicious before finding Asher. 

Your eyes move along the dance floor to see Vivian dancing with someone you don’t know and Asher is sitting at your table, talking to a friend, with a drink in his hand. 

He’s leaning against his chair, sipping his drink, and looking flushed from all his dancing. He notices you immediately and stands up when you reach him. 

His hands going to your shoulders, eyes worried, and you fake a pout. 

“You okay?” He asks, concerned. His puppy dog eyes wide with worry. 

You nod, kissing his cheek, and whisper,  “That lobster ravioli did not sit well with me.” He laughs at your comment and rubs your belly. 

This would be funny if it wasn’t so horrible. 

“Oh, baby.” He pouts at you and you both sit down. You sip on your drink as he continues his conversation with the person next to him. 

Your eyes catch Harry as he walks down the venue, buttoning his suit jacket in a swift motion, fixing his hair with his hand, and he cuts in with whoever is dancing with Vivian. He wraps his arms around her, her doing the same, and his eyes meet yours. 

He dances around the dance floor with her, but his beautiful green eyes never leave yours. 

You feel jealousy pull the pit of your stomach as you watch them. 

Asher notices the song playing, “Let’s dance, baby.” 

Before you can say anything, he’s pulling you up to your feet, you’d stumble to set your drink down, and you fall into his arms in a slow dance. 

His back is facing Harry, arms around each other, and you continue to dance together. 

But now in a slow song, your eyes never leave Harry’s. 

And you wish it was you in his arms. 

Harry wishes the same. 

But you both know it’ll never happen. No matter how badly you both want it. 

It’s an unspoken acknowledgement between you two. 

You wish things were different. 

You both do. 

[celebtf]

Harry and The crown

I was so done, I had been working too many hours for this, serving meals, cleaning all 17 floors and all 30 room in the castle, I never get any respect around here for all the work I do.

If you haven't guess it, I work as a server for in the Royal castle in England for Prince Harry. I been working there for 15 years and I still get treated with such a disrespect. I deserve more, I clean, serve him food, fix his paper work, at this point even being his body-gaurd, he has people for that but it's me who still needs to do it.

" You can leave now for today, I need to sleep and everything that needs to be done is done" Harry said to me and I turned around and rolled my eyes and started walked towards the end of the castle.

" I wish he could feel how I have it everyday " I said to myself quietly and started to leave. I opended the gate and I started to walked the road and down to the city where I had my car parked.

" Hey you, I heard what you said. You wish somebody else could walk in your shoes, right? " I man came up to me, young, handsome, I didn't think I was speaking so loudly.

" Go home and sleep and tomorrow when you have the chance take it" the man said and later walked away, I countined to walk, thinking about what the man said and drove home.

The next day Harry had to be in the Royal church, it was a sunday, he always was in the church during the sunday-service. I just walked alone in the kitchen, cleaning, doing the dishes. It was as boring like yesterday. I checked my watch " 10:30 " well Harry will be away for atleast two more hours, I can walk around a little.

I went upstaires to check all the rooms, to see if I missed any, I never did but I had some time. I was walking around, I came to Harry's room, I'm usually never in there but maybe it needed some cleaning.

Then I saw it, on a display in harry's closet, I saw the royal crown. It was so beautiful.

I took out the crown from the display, and I put it on my head, it was so heavy. I was being very careful not to drop it. " It should've been me, why does I never had any luck".

I knew I had time so I put on one of Harry's suits, I wanted to see how it would feel to be a Prince just for a Moment.

" What are you doing with that and why are you in my room " Harry had come home earlier then I thought, shit, I was so screwd.

I was about to unbotton the suit when I felt my body starting to fill it out, my muscles started to grow, so did my feets, the shoes was not big anymore. I felt an electric touch and I felt myself grow a few inches. My face was on fire, my nose got smaller, my jaw shaper and freckles started to appear. My dark hair bleached to a ginger color and my hair got shorter. I felt this wave of pleasure down there and I felt myself grow harder. I grabed my hard bulge and laughed.

I saw Harry and he looked at me in terror, I looked in the mirror in the closet. " Looks like I'm the Prince now " and Harry's body started to change in to my old, his ginger hair darkend, he grew shorter.

" Guess I have a new Butler " I said in my new brittish accent. I picked up my new phone " Hey Henry, can you pick up this butler, he isn't doing his job right " I saw the fear in Harry's new eyes.

" I have places to be, but good luck in life and your car is parked down the road " I laughed and went outside to the cab waiting.

I steped out the car, heard hundets of screams, only for me, because I'm the Prince of England and nobody knew the diffence, I laughed to myself and walked up the staries to watch the Tennis game that was playing.

I started to think about earlier, how I had become the Prince of England and nobody here knew it, I felt myself growing harder in my suit-pants " Harry, you have hide this, well later when I get home, I will have some fun in my new bed and might have to explore under to see if I can find some toys to use " l laughed and pretended to know the game.

[morganalatina21]

Manipulating Death: Chapter Twelve

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: yo yo! (Timmy's voice). I know, I know, it's been a rough couple of months since I last posted something but i was just starting college (i passed in one of the top best in my country so I'm really glad), and now that everything's outta the way I can go back to writing so better get used to receive some news from me baby!

Aaand, Ik this one's a little shorter than usual but i just wanted to announce that im back so... yeah

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

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When summer came and Harry had to go back to Hogwarts and then back to his uncle’s house, Sirius was ready to throw hands.

The remaining marauders grew a very solid anger towards their old headmaster after everything Y/n and Regulus told them about, and were ready to disobey him one more time, however after some long days of talking, they decided to play the game.

If Dumbledore was allowed to lie to them and risk their lives as if they were a bunch of pawns, so could the Order.

So Harry, Hermione and Ron went to Hogwarts to finish their fifth school year, the Potter would write letters to his sister everyday and once every two days they’d talk through the fireplace.

He’d tell her how his day was, how he missed the twins fooling around, how Umbridge was such a pink bitch he could throw up; and Y/n would give small hints about how their search for the Horcruxes was going, and the best way to hex his professor without her knowing.

He avoided referring to her as a sister, and just went with “a very dear friend”, and also never mentioned Dumbledore, just in case he decided to somehow capture Edwiges and read the messages.

But they were so happy being able to talk to each other basically everyday after being almost sixteen years apart.

The boy was happy he, for once, could write home, to someone who was actually interested, some family.

Of course, before, he had Sirius, but the man saw him as a replacement for James, and Harry viewed him the same way; this was different, he didn’t saw Y/n as his mother, neither did her.

But it was pretty clear he was jealous whenever someone else interacted with her.

Like this time when Hermione told him she sent a letter to Y/n to ask about some potions and how she was healing, Harry turned red immediately and wondered why she was so worried if she wasn’t her sister.

Or whenever they were talking through the fireplace and Regulus would be right beside her in the room.

“It’s like” He mumbled, “You guys have your own families and I don’t interfere, let me have mine!”

Speaking about her healing, it took longer than expected, and she hid that from Harry, not wanting the boy to worry over nothing, but Regulus only allowed her to step out of the bedroom when her brother was going back to Petunia’s house.

“Honestly, I do think I will die here.” She confessed one day when he came in with her meal. “But of boredom.”

The day Harry had to go back to his uncle's, he decided to see his sister one last time before spending the entire summer without her.

And everyone got a pretty clear view from Harry's jealousy that day.

Remus left the house to receive the golden trio outside, not knowing an exact hour they'd be there, so it was just Regulus and Sirius downstairs and Y/n in her room.

The kids' presence not being exactly announced when they arrived, both Black Brothers thinking she'd be asleep and didn't wanted to bother the poor girl.

Well, they were wrong.

Because her voice came loud and clear, not even a little groggy: "Hey Reggie?"

They perked up at that, the man standing up.

"I'm bored, do you wanna come lay with me so I can play with your hair?"

Their eyes widened, staring at the younger Black in pure shock. He nodded his head at them, as in greeting goodbye and started going upstairs.

Mid-way he started running towards her, knowing she'd probably change her mind if he took too long. "Yes!"

Harry was fuming, as red as Ron's hair.

He busted into his sister’s room and finding her messing with Regulus’ curls. The boy shooed him away harshly and dropped his own head on her lap, staring at the Black with a cold glare that made Y/n laugh.

After a couple minutes, they decided to hang out with everyone else, and Harry would never leave his sister, following her around like a shadow and even making Regulus jealous, and it was so comic for his brother.

She told Harry things they couldn't talk about through letters, like the possessor's training that Reggie was responsible for, or how the Horcruxes hunt was going in full details.

"That reminds me, I got something for you." Y/n announced before sprinting upstairs, to which Regulus was really unhappy about. But she then came back a few moments later, with an old and messy hairbrush on one hand. "It was our father's, it's the only thing I have from him and I want you to have it."

"Are you sure?" He reluctantly asked, holding it as if it could break and disappear if he as much breathed on it. But Y/n shook her head yes with a huge smile.

"Consider it an early birthday gift."

The boy felt his eyes watering, sucking in a hiccup and holding the Potter in a tight hug that almost made him cry his eyes out.

Throughout the rest of the year, Harry would look at the hairbrush almost as if he was begging for his dad's guidance. He felt back on his third year, standing by the lake, with Sirius and his own image passing out on the other side, waiting for his dad to come and save the day.

Except that right now, he knew it was basically his own mind giving him advice. The boy was desesperately trying not to get his hopes high that Y/n could bring them back to life.

She sure was powerful, but after her death she appeared to get weaker and weaker by the day.

He'd get letters from Remus or one of the Black brothers saying she was too sick to write, that they'd keep him uptaded on any important news.

But how could Harry stay fucking calm? Deep down, he felt lied to. He had no reason to suspect his godfather or his sistser's godfather, but Merlin there was something wrong.

And he was right.

Because a week after he arrived at the Dursley's, Regulus Black woke up to an empty bed except for himself.

Calling out her name, no answer.

The basement just as empty as the bed.

Sirius and Remus? Clueless.

Kreacher? Obliviated.

Y/n Potter was, once again, missing.

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Next Chapter

Taglist: @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea @ok-boke @warcelia @danyxthirstae01 @b-tchymoon @lovely-maryj @the-sander-fander @regulusblackloverr @coffeeaddictednymph @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @teamspideyman @artemis-the-ace @theprettytragic @loidforgerishotashell @criminalyetminimal @amortyong @qualitywitchchaos @musicconversedance @xcharlottemikaelsonx @esposadomd

[sundrop-writes]

Opening up requests for Criminal Minds for MLTs, Reactions, and Headcanons.

Requests are CLOSED as of March 17th, 2024. I am simply keeping this post up in case I have use for it in the future.

I will mainly be writing for Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer Jareau, and Emily Prentiss. And I may include Will Lamontagne, depending on the context. And for group prompts, I may add Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, and maybe (platonically) Jason Gideon.

Please read everything on this post before sending in a request.

To clarify:

MLTS - 'Most Likely To's aka a short description explaining which character of the group (or two, or three characters) would be 'most likely' to do something or enjoy something. This could be exploring their potential enjoyment of a kink or how they would behave on a date, how they would be as a romantic partner. It can be anything you want, get creative. (Ex: mostly likely to seek revenge if you were harmed by an UnSub, mostly likely to have a breeding kink, most likely to enjoy PDA, most likely to want kids, etc.)

Reactions - 'how would they react to...' aka a short description explaining how the characters (two or three, you can choose) would react to a certain situation. (If you want this format done with the whole group at once, it will likely be much shorter.) (Ex: how would they react to seeing you in lingerie for the first time, how would they react to seeing you punch someone, how would they react if someone insulted you, etc.)

Headcanons - a collection of bullet points that creates a shorter, quicker, more efficient style of fic by taking the reader through a tour of ideas, the character's reactions and thoughts in a shorter format. (These are like full fics, but can usually be done faster.) (Ex: headcanons for friends to lovers with Emily, headcanons for JJ being possessive of the reader, headcanons for the group finding out that the reader has been hurt, etc.)

General Rules and Guidelines for Requesting:

Requests should be sent to the ask box on this blog. I don't accept requests in DMs because it is too disorganized and difficult to keep track of them. Finished fics may be posted as separate posts, or they may be posted as a response to the ask.

Every single one of my fics includes a reader character. I don't do character x character fics. If you are making a request, I will assume that you want to read character x reader fics, and if you don't specify the gender of the reader character, I am most likely to write the reader character as a cis female. Also, I am very likely to include the term Y/N in my fics. (If you think that's too cringe, run along. I grew up in a time where Y/N was sacred and cringe didn't exist.)

Speaking of which - in your request, please specify if the reader character is female, male, or gender neutral. When I write gender neutral fics, I do not describe the reader’s genitals or gender presentation in any way, so I don’t write ‘GN AFAB reader’ fics. If you want the reader to be described as having a vagina, that would be a fem reader in my fics.

Also typically, I don’t describe the reader character as having specific physical traits. I like my reader character to be as broad as possible to appeal to as many people as possible. I don’t write a character that has a specific race, height, hair color, etc. but one exception I have to this rule is that I love writing fat/plus sized readers in my fics. I love spreading love for fat bodies, especially through fics - I love making people feel good about their fatness through the gaze of a fictional character. So definitely feel free to send in requests for a plus sized reader character, as it’s one of my favorite things to write. 

For reference, I will also write about a reader character with autism or chronic illness (someone with chronic pain or a fainting disorder, or someone who uses a cane or a wheelchair), because these are groups that I am a part of and I know that they are not portrayed in fiction often enough. If you have any questions about these aspects, please let me know. 

Also, if you do want to include in the request that the reader has certain non-physical traits, that's okay. Like describing the reader being nerdy, outgoing, artsy, being a single mother or a parent, etc. in your request - then I am likely to include those in the fic. Those kind of traits help to aid in the plot and differentiate the reader from my other fics.

I will accept requests for poly ships. (Character x Reader x Character.) I am a huge fan of requests like this, and for Criminal Minds specicially, I am very open to writing many different poly ships - like Elle x Reader x Spencer, JJ x Reader x Emily, Will x Reader x JJ. Maybe other combinations, I’m not sure. I will field them as they are suggested. I won't do more than three characters in a poly ship for this fandom, including the reader character. (But I might do some kind of headcanons or something for the entire group being a polycule just because it's fun.)

I will write smut, angst, or fluff, but I mostly prefer writing smut or angst. When requesting smut (or smutty themed things), please specify if you want the characters to be dominant or submissive. In your request, write ‘sub!reader’ or ‘dom!reader’, something to denote the dynamics to let me know what you want it to be. I am a big fan of writing submissive men, so I won’t shy away from things like that - but I will write any dynamic as long as it’s properly communicated to me. 

I will write for a lot of dark topics and different kinks. In general, the list of things that I won’t write is a lot shorter than the list of things that I will. So if you’re wondering if I’m okay with a request or not, just ask. 

For reference, my big ‘nos’ are: virgin!reader fics, or fics where the reader is sexually inexperienced or portrayed as innocent. I am okay with doing a ‘faux’ innocent reader (someone who is only pretending to be innocent), and I am also okay with writing about a canon character being a virgin and having their first sexual experience with the reader. (That’s something I love writing about, actually.) I am okay with writing about sexual coercion, sexual blackmail, or dubcon. (Or even noncon or cnc, under certain circumstances.) 

Also, I don’t write fics about miscarriages, safeword use, or extreme choking kink. And while I don’t write about miscarriage, I am okay with writing about pregnancy - it’s something I enjoy writing about, actually. I also enjoy writing parenting fics and family fics with children.

[all4seth]

seth clearwater x female reader

lower case intended

i sat down at one of the empty tables and let my right shoe slip off my foot for a moment. it hurt my feet; my dress was also too tight and it started feeling itchy, my hair wasn’t sitting right and i could have ripped my bracelats off my wrist right then and there.

i closed my eyes and replayed seth’s promposal in my head. he had brought me flowers and asked me in private, because he knew i would get shy if it had been in front of other people. of course i said yes; seth has been my boyfriend for so long now, yet it didn’t feel boring, not one bit. my love for him only grew day by day.

i opened my eyes and searched through the crowd. there were so many people, many of whom know my boyfriend, yet i know none of them. i wish it was easier for me to talk to people.

seth was out there, surrounded by his friends. he looked so happy. he patted one of the guys’ arm and then his eyes quickly searched for mine. when his gaze met me, a huge smile grew on his face, and i couldn’t help but smile back.

i got up from my seat and waited for him to reach me, and when he did, he gently caught my waist and spun me around as he kissed me.

���you look so beautiful” he whispered.

“thank you. i love you”

“i love you too, baby”

“who’s the pretty lady, seth?” a voice asked from behind us.

we flinched and quickly pulled away, only to see the group of guys that seth was talking to earlier.

they burst into laughter once they saw our faces.

“don’t be jerks, guys. this is y/n, i’ve talked about her to you” seth said.

i could feel my face getting red.

“we’re joking, of course we know who you are”

“seriously though, seth talks about you all day, every day” a shorter boy said.

“quil…” seth murmured, faking annoyance while he was clearly embarassed.

“he’s driving us nuts” an older boy laughed “i’m jared cameron”

“i’m y/n. wait, actually, you said you know who i am. sorry, i’m a little nervous” i giggled, stiffly.

seth rubbed my arm, in an attempt to calm me down.

“we won’t bite” embry laughed.

“speak for yourself” jared replied.

seth gave the boy a dirty look; you could see just how jealous he was.

i intertwined my fingers with seth’s and squeezed his hand.

he looked at me with soft eyes, as if asking “do you want to go somewhere else?”

i nodded.

“it was great meeting you” i told the boys that were still joking around.

“see you guys around” seth greeted them and the two of us walked away.

“leaving so soon?” paul pouted, as a joke.

seth rolled his eyes in annoyance but kept on walking.

“i was just getting to know your little girlfriend, too bad she doesn’t speak much” paul added, but no one laughed this time.

my heart sank. not when paul’s words reached my ears, but when seth turned to him, his body shaking, trying as hard as possible to keep composed.

“don’t speak about her like that” seth demanded.

“calm down, dude” paul mocked.

i brushed my fingers against seth’s and he instantly calmed down, just as our eyes met.

he and i left the school without adressing another word to paul.

seth drove us to my house and entered with me.

my parents were gone for the weekend, meaning it was only the two of us. we made our way to the second floor, into my room.

he was still visibly angry so i rubbed his back, but he didn’t look at me.

“oh, seth” i sighed and kissed his cheek.

he looked into my eyes and i could see the anger vanishing, sadness taking its place.

we sat in silence, as i rubbed his back, replaying tonight’s events in my mind. i didn’t want seth to feel pressured into talking to me, so i silently let him know he could talk to me, whenever he felt ready.

“you know paul wasn’t actually hitting on you, right?” seth said “i’m not saying you’re not pretty or anything, because you’re obviously the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, but he’s just such a jerk and i-“

i kissed him.

“i know, baby, it’s ok. i only want you” i reassured him.

he kissed me back, more passionately this time. his tongue made its way into my mouth and i ran my hands through his hair. his right hand was holding my waist, while the other was cupping my face. his left hand fell on my waist as well.

he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

“i love you, y/n”

“i love you too”

[lowtaperfeyd]

A Scintilla of Happiness (Chapter 2)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mentat!reader

author's note: This is a bit of a shorter chapter. In this chapter of my life, I'm doing a ton of studying of exams :/ so I made this kinda fluffy to make up for it. The normal angst will be back soon :0

warnings: mentions of violence and killing

wc: 871

(Not beta read, we die like Feyd-Rautha)

You were beginning to settle in well to your new job on Geidi Prime. Of course, waking up and leaving your room to see bald heads and beady eyes caught you off guard. Until you remembered where you were. The work was fine, the environment on the other hand was not. 

The food was bland, the tile froze bone when walking on it, and the halls creaked and ebbed with no contentment. Almost like they didn’t want to be here too. 

The walls and I are the same. We both cannot leave. 

It was easy for you to deduce you were homesick. Even though where you grew up wasn't tender or loving, just studious. The Harkonnen castle, per se, wasn’t tender or loving. You should have loved it there. But maybe it was the lack of hair, color, or company that didn’t flinch when spoken too, and a baron who was just gross at best.

 It was easier to work and work until the day was over. 

When the Baron didn’t need your assistance, you would sit in the library buried in stacks of film books that waited to be used. Along with rows of them, standing like soldiers at attention, waiting to go back to their shelves, their homes. You learned more about the planet and the Harkonnen involvement in the spice trade. There was not much more to learn, but it kept you busy. 

Today was the same. 

You sat in the expansive library absorbing as much information as you could. Language and roots, music, math, and anything else. It almost got boring, but once it did the next stage in your routine would happen. It was a scintilla of happiness in your cold dead world.

Like clockwork, you could hear the faint gait of the Baron’s nephew, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, begin to walk over to the giant door that separated the two of you. The tracks would get louder and louder before finally reaching the door. 

75.4% of the time he would stop and turn around, leaving to go back to training, which is all he ever did besides partaking in violence. 

But, the other 24.6% involved him walking through the door and only being a meter inside before saying something along the lines of, ‘will I win today?’ in a slightly joking manner, with a smirk on his face. Even though he knew he would win, he always asked, and you said yes. Because it was true, not because you wanted to see the content look on his face, never. 

Instead of him walking away today, he entered. 

“If you are here to ask about the probability of you winning your match, then I think you know your answer.” Amusingly, you say it, not looking up from your work. 

“Who said I needed to ask?” he hissed, “Everyone knows I will.”

It wasn’t like him to be that short with you. It was higher by 60%. It was the way he spoke to people under him. You were under him, but he didn’t speak to you like that, especially at this time. 

“Right,” you mutter while putting your work aside and looking up at him, “I’m sorry for assuming, Na-Baron.” You put your hands onto the desk and intertwined them together. 

“I know you had a meeting with the Baron today. Can I hypothesize that it went well?”

He tensed up like a man turned to stone. You knew that he had a complex relationship with his uncle. It didn’t take your skills to figure that out. But when you asked about meetings before, he never tensed like this. 

“My uncle has decided that I will start to train more often,” he revealed, “Is it safe to say this will pay off?” 

You ran the calculations in your mind. But there was a little voice nagging you the entire time. 

If the Baron has him train more then he won’t ask about his chances at his normal rate. But either way, his winning rate should increase with ample training. 

“Yes,” you assure, “with the training you are going to receive now, it is likely your strength will increase 3%-5% per week. That number may seem low, but the value of 5% will increase by the week.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After that interaction, you began to see him less and less.

You saw him even less when you found out that the Baron was giving you more work to do. He asked for your advice more and more. He assigned you and De Vries to research plans. And worst of all you had to start following the Baron around along with De Vries. 

Your time in the library was gone, and your sanctuary was lost. 

The plus side was that you were always with the baron during meetings. Meaning you saw the Na-Baron and were able to speak with him. Even if it was just him asking you easy questions and having your input, in the quiet time before moving onto a new meeting point.  

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

“What extent would the fallout be if I killed a duke of another planet, Mentat?”

“If he had a sufficient army and they found out it was you, they would wage war, Na-baron.” 

[allur1ngs]

could you give more information on hyo? we all know bada + bebe because they’re of course real but since hyo is an oc, we don’t know a lot about her. like her hair color/style, height and age, hobbies and personal things like that <3

okay, here's an official deep dive on Hyo!!

this is her official face claim, kim hieora's appearance in bad and crazy!! (i actually haven't seen the show...lmfao)

full name: kim hyo

she's 5'8, making her slightly shorter than bada and lusher, has dark brown (black in low lighting) hair, fair skin, and is 25/26 years old (i haven't decided yet hehe).

style: she loves a super laid-back and casual style when she's not wearing her normal suit, which is basically almost never...

hobbies: ...she doesn't really have time for any... but if on the off chance she takes a day off (literally once in a blue moon) she enjoys reading!! she's an avid reader and loves history!! she did very well in her studies, but history was always hyo's strong suit!!

likes: she LOVESSSS chocolate. that might be her only weakness. she likes sweets in general but not to the extent that she likes chocolate. she also likes cold showers and cold weather.

dislikes: disappointing bada. i feel like i've beat this point into the ground but it's such an important part of hyo's character!!

i'm going to go into a small rant so you've been warned but...

i'm not sure if anyone picked up on it from AWOOL, but hyo is the daughter of chung-hee, bada's bodyguard when bada was younger. hyo always looked up to her father because he was so dedicated to his work and she thought that the idea of protecting another person is such a noble cause/job to choose in life. so when she grew up she idolized her father greatly, and the few times she met bada while she was young, she also grew to idolize her too. bada has always been strong and independent, even before the death of her mother, so when hyo got to see how she took charge in her life without being arrogant and using the influence of her parents, hyo was like "yeah, i want to be just like her."

adding onto that, the lees basically kept hyo's family afloat. they paid her father an incredible sum of money for his work, and before that hyo grew up very poor, so she was basically taken out of poverty by the lee family.

(let's also not forget that chung-hee and mr. lee were also best friends since like childhood, so naturally hyo appreciated him a lot)

so after her father retired, bada--still recovering from the lingering affects of her mother's death and having no trust in almost anyone, somehow managed to trust hyo (because she was chung-hee's daughter)--who was now much older, to become a part of bebe.

hyo wasn't bada's bodyguard although she wanted to be--lusher got that privilege--but the second you stepped into bada's life she was assigned to protect you, and after that hyo felt like that was her calling. to protect the person most precious to bada like ji-ah (the man who killed bada's mother) didn't do. because of all that, she greatly respects you and thinks of you as a little sister she has to protect with her life.

okay rant over🤗

other things hyo dislikes includes, traitors--i'm sure you can guess why--snobby rich people, which in her line of work are literally everywhere so..., and people who disrespect those who have given them so much. in bloody knuckles, you'll see a bit of hyo's frustration with reader come out when she realizes that she lied to bada. she does, to an extent, understand and sympathize with reader's reasoning, but she sort of grows cold with her after that.

and before anyone starts to get any ideas, because i'm sure they will...hyo would never NEVER date reader or bada!! she thinks of reader as a little sister (not to mention bada is in LOVE LOVE with her and hyo would never betray bada like that), and bada is hyo's boss and someone she idolizes, she would never be in a relationship with either of them in the canon. and even out of canon bada is NOT hyo's type at all

okay that's all i can think of for now so let me know if you'd like to know more :D 🩷

[angry-trashcan]

Foxglove

Chapter five to Braided Lilac

3K WC

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse. Reader uses they/them pronouns.

(First)    (Read on AO3)   (Hair Holds Memories)

Going through a portal was never a fun time. Especially when the whole camp had finally settled for a much needed night of sleep. You were laying on your back, Four across your chest when the ground gave out from under you. Your scream along with everyone else’s startled groans came to a sudden stop when you landed on your back, the sun bright in your face as the portal closed over you.

Four groaned heavily over you, eyes wide when a sudden wave of nausea came over him. He could barely get a ‘fuck’ out before he scrambled off of you. You sat up slowly, the hard landing on your back doing you absolutely no favors. Looking around, it seemed like the portal had managed to pull the whole camp through, fire and all. Though small logs from it were scattered about along with belongings spilling from bags. Groans and complaints were coming from everyone, even Time mumbling as he started to stand. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, I have a question. What the fuck was that?!” Sage was rubbing his head, glaring at the older man.

“A portal. We told you they pull us through places.”

“Like that?! You never said anything about that!”

“Because it’s never done that before.” You interjected, slowly standing. Warriors appeared next to you, grabbing an elbow as you swayed a bit. You gave him a small smile, leaning into him. “Of course, it has to be daytime here.”

“I say we go back to sleep anyway.” Wind complained, curling back into his now very muddy blanket. Wild kicked him.

“We can’t rest until we figure out where we are.” Time explained, pulling his chest plate over his head.

A suddenly very awake Sky pulled his shirt over his own head, “I know where we are!”

“So, we can sleep?” Wild kicked Wind again.

“We’re on the surface, really close to the settlement. Come on! We should get going!” Sky was rushing pulling his boots on now, nearly forgetting to tighten his baldric completely.

“Slow down there, Knight. We’ve all got to get out stuff together.” Time put a hand on his shoulder. His gaze went around the destroyed camp, landing on you for a moment. Your arm was still being held by Wars as he helped you step into your boots. You acted like you didn’t notice his harsh glare.

The camp was picked up as fast as sleep deprivation would allow everyone to move, bags thrown over shoulders and groans coming nonstop from Wind as Sky paced around. “Oh goddesses, I wonder how much has changed since I left. Do I look different? Have I gotten taller? Shorter? I-“ Sky continued his mindless mumbling even as he lead the way to the settlement. Wild would pause on the path occasionally to take a picture of a weird plant or simply stare up at the trees.

Your own mind was racing as Hyrule talked to you. What was Sun going to be like? Would she approve of you? Would she be upset that you get to travel with Sky? The thoughts wouldn’t stop coming even as you stepped over the threshold into the settlement. People stood on wooden ladders, hammering into half-built buildings. A few kids ran in the street together as their mothers called after them, begging for them to come to eat. Sky ruffled the hair on one of their heads as they ran past the group, a smile plastered to his face.

“It’s gotten so much bigger!” He exclaimed, arms thrown wide.

“It has been over a year.” Time pointed out, patting the knight’s back.

“Don’t remind me, but now we’re here!” His pace picked up even more as he narrowed in on a small home in the middle of town. His knuckles hit the door rapidly, stepping back and shaking his leg in anticipation. The door creaked open only slightly, enough for someone to peek out.

“Who is it?” A woman’s voice carried out.

“Take a guess.” Sky’s smile somehow grew even more as a blonde woman launched herself at him. He caught her, spinning her around before putting her on the ground and placing a hard kiss on her lips. They both laughed through it, her having to push him away to breathe.

She looked up at his face, “How have you managed to look much older yet younger at the same time?” Still laughing through her words.

“Maybe it’s the missing you that’s done it.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, sleepyhead.” She ruffled his hair, eyes falling past him to the group standing awkwardly behind. “Oh! I assume these are your companions?” She stood a bit straighter as she turned to face everyone.

“They sure are, this is the team!” He motioned towards everyone as he introduced them, saving you for last in his roll call. “And this is Y/N.” He outstretched his hand to you. You looked at it for a moment before taking it, taking a few steps to be next to him.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Sun- Zelda. I’ve heard so much about you.” You smiled slightly, bowing a head towards her.

“And the same to you! Link here doesn’t shut up about you!” You looked up at him through the side of your eye.

“Is that so?”

He groaned, “Zelda-“

“It’s all good things, don’t fret. He just seems very-“ Her talking paused suddenly as her eyes fell to your shoulder. “Very… happy.” Her hand fell to her side, fingers twiddling with a red feather hanging from her waist.

“Well, I hope he is. I try my best to keep him that way at least.” You smiled at her, your own hand coming up to fumble with the red feather braided over your shoulder.

She hummed, her smile faltering ever so slightly. “So, I do believe you lot will need accommodations. Thankfully, I have enough room for you to stay here. You see, we don’t have an inn. Don’t exactly have a use for one.” She motioned towards the open door to her home. “Make yourselves at home, everyone.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you, I truly do appreciate it.” You bowed your head to her again before following after the rest of the chain.

Sky started to follow after, though he was stopped by Zelda’s hand on his elbow. “Is everything okay?” He asked in a hushed voice.

She motioned with her head for him to come with her to the other side of the small porch. You left the door open as she had it so that they could come in when they were finished. It had been a while since they had seen each other.

The inside of the house was modest. A small sitting area in the middle of a large main room, a door to the right which you assumed went to a bedroom, and a small cooking area on the left with a large pot over a pile of ashes. You couldn’t help but smile. This is domestic. Everyone took their time settling into places around the sitting area, bags and weapons being thrown into a pile in the corner. You did the same, taking off your boots before sitting on a cushion next to Four. He put his arm behind you as he leaned against you. “I’m still tired.” He groaned.

You laughed, putting an arm around his shoulders and bringing him into you. “Me too. And we were cuddling so good, too.” He groaned again, nodding into your side as his red-glazed eyes fell closed for a moment. The door closed shortly after, Sky and Sun came into the room with red faces. Sky avoided eyes as he made his way to the bedroom, closing the door hard behind him. You looked around the group, Four sitting up off of you.

“Is everything okay?” Hyrule spoke up.

Zelda seemed to just notice that they were all there, looking down to where everyone was sitting. She shook her head, seemingly an attempt to clear it. “Yeah, everything is fine. Just a little conversation is all.” A few nods went around the group as Zelda took a seat among it. She sat across from you, eyes falling back onto the red feather.

“I know it’s only midday, but if you’d like I can start cooking. We fell in the middle of the night into the day here. So, we’re all hungry and tired.” Wild’s voice snapped her out of her trance on the feather.

“Oh, yeah that would be great.” She smiled weakly at him before looking around at everyone else. “Link has told me much about each of you and your travels. I hope that our small town will treat you all right during your time here.”

“Thank you, Zelda. We do appreciate you letting us stay here.” Warriors smiled at her.

Time cleared his throat, “I know we are a bit of a rambunctious group, so if you ever wish for us to leave then just tell us.”

“You talkin’ about me Old Man?!” Wind cried out, “Because I’ll have you know that I’m the most well-behaved pirate on my damn ship!”

“Example A.” You mumbled, motioning towards Wind.

Zelda laughed, “I promise you are all no bother. Though I would encourage you to explore the settlement. I’m sure you will find something to keep yourselves busy with.”

“She’s trying to get rid of us.” Sage shook his head, “I know a cue to leave when I see one.” He stood from the ground, stretching his back. “I’m going to go take a look around. You lot can join if you want.”

“I’ll come with.” Hyrule added, standing and following him to the door. After a few moments, everyone except you, Warriors, and Zelda had left. He stood, offering a hand for you to join him.

“Actually, I’d like to speak with Y/N. If you don’t mind giving us some time.” Zelda smiled softly to Warriors, who in turn looked to you.

“Is that okay?”

You nodded, smiling. “I’ll come join when we are done. Will you see if there is a bakery?”

“There is, on the opposite end of the settlement.”

He agreed, “Of course, dear. I’ll meet you there.” He closed the door with a soft click behind him.

Silence fell between the two of you. It lasted for a long few moments as you fiddled with your hands and loose threads on your pants. You could count every breath she took, timing them. It wasn’t until you muffled up the courage to look at her did you see her still looking at the feather. Your hand rose to it and grasped it softly. Your voice was even softer as you broke the silence, “He gifted it to me about two months ago now. He told me you had one as well.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. She took the one on her waist into hand, “I do. He gave it to me when we were engaged.”

You smiled gently, “I know. I think it’s a wonderful gift to mark the occasion.”

She hummed, “Do you know what loftwings mean to us? And how significant they are to us?”

“I do, they are said to be the other half of your soul.” Your words sounded more like a question, trying to figure out where she was going with this.

“Yes, but there is more to that.” She shook her head, taking another deep breath. “When you are betrothed, you are supposed to give a feather from your loftwing to the other. Think of it as similar to an engagement ring. It is an important part of our culture and history.”

Your breathing hitched, going for the chain that held the feather in place. “Zelda, I wish I had known this. I am so sorry that I have overstepped.”

She put her hand up, stopping you. “There is no need, it is not your fault. I just wish that he had told you that it was an engagement.”

The door to the bedroom creaked open as Sky walked out, looking to you both sitting across from one another. He closed his eyes, and for a moment you thought he would retreat back into the room. Instead, he came and took a seat next to both of you. His hands fell into his own lap, lacing them together. Another silence came, this time, the both of you were waiting for Sky to break it.

So, he did. “I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impressi-.”

You cut him off, “You didn’t just ‘give me the wrong impression’. I asked you if this was an engagement and you told me no.”

Zelda sat up straighter, looking at him for an explanation. He shook his head, looking down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know why I’m not talking to Time? Lying. And look, now you’re lying too. Have you lied about anything else?”

His head shot up to face you, “No, I-“

Your voice got louder, your hands lacing into your hair and pulling it. “No, once a liar always a liar. Which other ones of you are lying about something? At this rate, probably all of you.”

Zelda's eyes fell onto you, watching you take rapidly faster breaths. “Y/N, I do think we should talk about this.”

You shook your head, hands falling onto your knees. “No. There is nothing to talk about. You lied to me, Sky. About something this important, too. And to think, I was just telling you the other day that I would be willing to marry you.”

“Y/N-“

You stood before he could finish, “I’m going to find the others. Who knows, maybe Sage won’t lie to me.” You closed the door behind you, taking a deep breath as you heard shouts of protest on the other side. Your hands shook when you pushed off of the door. You stepped off of the porch, feet crunching leaves. The others weren’t in the street. Probably off somewhere else.

Your feet carried you aimlessly through the street. Searching for someone, anyone. But did you really want to be around any of the others right now? That makes two liars in a month. Two too much like him. You hit the palms of your hands to the side of your head, groaning. You knew in all rational sense that they weren’t lying to hurt you, that they weren’t him. But even the small betrayals felt like a knife twisting in the still-bleeding wound. You wandered through the half-built houses until you reached a marketplace. Tears slipped down your cheeks, the overwhelming thoughts flooding through you showing their teeth.

You found yourself sitting on a wooden bench, staring blankly in the distance as people wandered by, making little notice of you or your tears. A weight sat next to you, but you didn’t care to look. Tears continued falling as you grip your hands together, the people becoming a blur in your eyes.

“Seems that didn’t go well.” Sage spoke from next to you.

You hummed, not giving him a real response.

He sighed, leaning back onto the bench. “Wars is waiting for you at the bakery.”

You didn’t give any answer that time, blinking slowly to let the tears out.

“Want me to walk you over there?”

Again, nothing.

“Y/N, I can tell you don’t wanna talk. But I’m not just going to leave you here alone.”

You looked over at him, puffy eyes finding his. “I do wanna talk.”

He nodded, “Then let’s talk. What happened?”

“No, not about that.” You looked at his hands in his lap, “Talk to me about anything but that.”

He took a deep breath, “There’s this town in my Hyrule, it’s called Tarrey Town. I have a house there that I built myself.”

You smiled ever so slightly, “That sounds nice.”

He smiled with you, “It is. I have a stable for my horse and everything. Bolson, the mayor of the town is a real treat too. He’s fun to be around. He has a wife and daughter. They’re Gerudo.”

“I like Gerudo Town.”

“Me too, the people are great. That’s where I got this.” He pulled his sleeve up, showing a tattoo on his bicep. The intricate lines laced together to form a sword, pointing down into a line of triangles that wrapped around to the other side. “It was designed for me since I helped protect the town.”

“That’s really nice of them.”

He lowered his sleeve, covering the design. “What wasn’t nice was how it felt. Hurt like a bitch.”

You snickered, watching the way his mouth ticked up when you did. “I can only imagine.”

“I almost made them stop half done. It was horrible. I don’t know how people can cover themselves in them.” He shook his head, “The woman doing it just had someone come hold my other arm down so I couldn’t move too much. I’d rather get fire blasted by a dozen Wizrobes than do that shit again.”

You laughed this time, hand coming up to wipe away the remaining tears. “That bad, huh?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Can’t say I do.”

He watched you for a moment, “Do you want to head back or go get the others?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the bench. “I think I want to just stay here for a while. If that’s okay with you.”

He smiled again, “I think that’d be okay.”

(NEXT)

[arcade-writing]

Tea party for two

NSFW 🍋

Pairing: Jervis Tetch x AFAB! reader

Warning: ribbon bondage, Oral - man EATS out, drool and spit kink, scent kink, he's a little weirdo, brief sex toy, March Hare! Reader, he's as giddy as he is horny, alot of whimpering, Jervis is very vocal, probably cringe dirty talk - man rhymes and speaks silly, established relationship, boss x henchmen, cheesy petnames, premature ejaculation, messy sex, creampie, mating press, a lot of praise, minor light degrading for hatter, hair pulling, table sex, abit of aftercare, they’re ridiculous your honour

I'm aware a Hare and a rabbit/bunny are very different but I don't give a shit quite frankly!

This is a non specific Hatter, it is implied he's got a gut on him and said he has curly hair but he's not detailed in description where you can't imagine your own version. He is also intended to be shorter than you but ehh again, nothing is overly defined.

Being one of the mad hatters goons wasn’t too bad. Not many people In Gotham can say they get paid to dress up for a criminal and enjoy it. Tea parties were routine at this point, always at the same time and well- you couldn’t even be so sure the clocks even worked accurately in Jervis’s underground lair. They always say to expect the unexpected but this was certainly not expected; currently you were being wheeled into the tea party on a carrier. Your arms tied to the oversized metal tray you were sitting on, your knees forced to your chest as your ankles and thighs were tied together with thick ribbon. The other goons just looked mindless as usual as the hypnotic chip in their head softly beeped. There you saw Jervis sitting in his usual chair, it was tall and wide enough to sit comfortably in. Now, you and the tray were on the table right In front of him. Displayed like a meal ready to be eaten.

“There’s other ways of inviting me to tea..” you finally spoke up, raising a brow, your foot just brushed the hatters chest. Nudging it just beneath his large bowtie.

Jervis made the other goons leave the room with a usher of his hand. Shooing them off as he tutted, having everything he wanted now you were Infront of him – perfectly presented and even tied up with a bow! Oh how marvellous! He laughed with that mischievous yet playful tone that you’ve gotten used to over time. Leaning forward as he cupped one foot with his gloved hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it.

“They say a rabbit foot is very lucky to have, wouldn’t I just be lined up for fortuitous events if I got to have a cheeky nibble on my dearest Hare?”

He pulled back to clap, giddy with his own excitement and anticipation. Giggling as he grinned so uncomfortably large, those buck teeth of his on full display. “Rabbit for dessert! They say they’re best for stews and supper but no no! But I’m sure you’ll just ooze with sweetness!”

You slightly flush, nudging his chest with your foot once again in retaliation knowing full well what this was leading to as your upper back pressed against the large and long table. You weren’t in the proper state of dress but that was because you had your own plans, until those large Tweedle henchmen came barging in. Your knees pressed together from how your tied as you could just about watch him from this position.

“oh? You’re hoping I’ll have some special filling for you to enjoy, hatter?” Your hands flex as your wrists were tied with ribbon to the handles of the large tray.

Oh such temptation in that tone of yours! It was oh so sweet and full of mischief. His grin grew wider as he licked his lips, his face so close to your knees as he hummed. Eyes darting all over you, those greedy eyes soaked up your thin fabric of your knee highs. Already drooling at just the idea, he’s been a fidgeting mess since he made those big goons grab you. And hard too, straining in his trousers already. He adjusted his big top hat to look more presentable, he was the boss after all.

“Hmm… I suppose that depends.. If I were to dig in, would I get to lick my fingers once I’m done and find all the delicious drippings and honey still on them?” He was only growing more jittery as he grew more flustered at the thought. Twitching fingers reaching for the big bow keeping your legs together as he pulled it undone.

“why don’t you try and see? I’m not a mirror, Hatter, you have to seek more than just a glance.” Even with the spontaneous and ridiculousness of it all; wishing Jervis would approach these kind of topics and desires like how most would but that wouldn’t be him. Once your legs were untied you parted them, resting your feet on his shoulders as you made sure to arch your back a little for show. “I’m sure with your attention I’ll be stickier than toffee.”

He let out an audible gasp, cheeks turning red, his eyes practically popping out of his head. A cheeky smirk flashed all over his face with that devious look in his eye. “If you insist, dear Hare.” He didn’t hesitate to move his gloved hands down and grasp your knees, pushing them more to your chest as his hands slid along your thighs. His breath became shallow and his heartbeat quickened, kissing from your ankle up to your knee. Biting at your socks the way up as he let out muffled giggles.

“Oh my! Getting a little dewy already?” He peered down at the underwear you currently had on, seeing a wet patch already formed. Just spotting an outline of something else, growing curious as his fingers danced up your thighs and to the waistband of your underwear.

As he stripped your bottom bare, he was nuzzling into your thighs as he pressed them to his head more. Tucking His face against your clit as he his big nose peeking over as he inhaled with a proud ‘oh ho ho ho!’. He loved that scent of yours; it’s why he always tried to get clothes of yours into his grubby hands. Wanting to smell you whenever he could.

You squeeze around his head, almost knocking off his top hat in the process as the ribbons and feathers decorating it tickled at your legs. Rolling your eyes with a smile at his giggles and noises of pride. Pushing him closer with your legs considering you were still bound at the wrists. “I just want your attention, makes me all warm.” You coo, your legs wanting to tense but each kiss just made your body melt.

“ohhh don’t you worry, my attention is already all yours, dear Hare” He chuckles as he nuzzles you more, your legs squeezing his head making him all squirmy, hips rolling against the plump of his chair. Getting that needed friction. “Warm is definitely the right description. You’re practically a cocoon of warmth with all that blood pumping, I’m sure your heart is just THUMPING!” He adjusted his hat to sit more firmly on his head and let his hands venture, sliding down to your slicken folds and finally found what brought his curiosity.

“And what’s this? Have you been hiding carrots from me?” He teases with a scolding brow, awaiting your answer as he feels the rubbery end of the toy currently stuffing your hole. Its end looks like cartoonish leafs and a stem, looking between you and the toy as he flicks the stem.

“I know how much you like games, I was hoping you’d enjoy playing with me but you ended up beating me to it.” You huff, your toes curling as he brought attention to the carrot toy. Biting on your bottom lip as you almost completely forgot it was there – your feet pushing him by the shoulders to be as close as he could as your hands clenched and unclenched.

“Aha! So you ARE hiding secrets.” He let out a giggle with a grin and a mischievous look in his eye, clapping his hands together in his glee, you really had no idea how much you were teasing him. Before he gave your thigh and smack as punishment. “Naughty! Naughty! Bad rabbit! Such a cheeky little thing!” He tutted and tsked, giving your thigh a few more smacks in quick concessions. “Planning to toy with your poor ol’ Hatter, I can only imagine the maddening game you would have played.”

He hummed to himself as he grabbed the rubber stem of the toy, twisting and pulling at the ends and bouncing it about between his fingers. Giving it a testing tug as he could see it wasn’t an easy fit. You gasped sharply at the slaps and then my breath caught in my throat as he played with the stem, tugging and twisting. Your reaction only just made his breathing more rapid, drool slipping past his trembling lips. His buck teeth caught on his lip as he chewed on it. "ohh I should take your carrot from you! Yes yes! Naughty rabbits like yourself don’t get lovely carrots.”

Squirming as your feet lightly kicked at his shoulder. Your hands grasping at the table cloth as you bit down on my lip tighter to muffle the sound that escaped you. “Then why don’t you take it then? Huh, hatter?” You breath out, eyes fluttering at just the thought as you saw just how excited he was getting – his energy rising and rising was more obvious. He never was one to stay still for long.

“why not indeed?” He asked as he finally stopped teasing the toy and grasped it properly, pulling with a bit more force then he thought he would have to. Pulling out the large carrot – much larger than he expected it to be- as his eyes widened, his jaw dropped slightly as he breathed in with a sharp intake of air. “O-oh my!” Marvelling at your cunt squeezed and fluttered as he pulled it out, listening to the sweet moans pooling out as it dragged along your walls. Your legs trembled as you arched. Delighting in the friction but already feeling that full sensation in your stomach retreat. His boner was pressing hard against his trousers, pre-cum smearing and wetting the fabric through his boxers at just the sight alone.

Once the toy came out with a loud pop he was staring at it with wide sparkling eyes. His cheeks utterly flushed and his heart pounding. “You…you are naughty, my Dear Hare…utterly and entirely naughty..” he breathed out, staring at your body as he can only imagine delightfully in his head the struggle you went through just to stash this carrot away just for him.

Panting, as you could feel how embarrassingly messy your thighs and pussy now were. Leftover lube and slick stringing out and dripping down to your ass. It rattled even you with how wet you were. Watching him through glazed eyes at his surprise as your hips wiggled, trying to pull his attention back into focus.

“Hatter…” You whimper, feeling so empty now. You just needed him to fill you up. You needed his attention.

His eyes are glued to the puffy folds between your legs, mouth agape and still stunned by the size of the toy and of your willingness to use it to such extremes just to get him in a tizzy. But more so, the way you gushed. Oh he has never thought of a day more fitting to be deemed Fractious day more than now. “Oh- dear Hare..” his voice was nothing but soft and breathy. As he swallowed against the sight.

His eyes looked back at the toy in his hand, but at the sound of you whimpering his focus was refocused to your wiggling hips. With haste he grabbed the largest teapot he had and shoved the carrot in it. Practically Jumping into action, Not wasting a beat he began to nuzzle your thighs and kiss around your fluttering cunt. His nose was practically smothered by your soft pussy as he huffed and puffed under his breath. His mouth opened as he began to lick away at the wetness you left behind as he moaned. His gloved hands gripping tightly at your thighs as he let out an approving groan at the mess. At your taste, always so sweet.

Your legs tighten at his head again, your hands thumping against the table as you just wanted to grab him and pull on his thick curly locks of his. He was acting like he was starved and it made your head spin. You loved it. Gasping and whining as you strained in your restraints. “Oh that’s it- my pretty Shortcake..” your breathing is thick in your throat and heavy as it escapes you. Looking down to watch him as you can just see his eyes rolling and twitching.

Your sweet mess on his face was like the perfect desert, the smell and taste driving him into a delirious state. His breath became shallow as he continued, his eyes rolling back as they fluttered. His nostrils flaring in and out as he took in your smell, it made him feel drunk. Your scent was intoxicating. His tongue taking it's time to trace around your sticky hole. Savouring every moment. He continued to suck and lick with no end.

“oh….as juicy as an apple, a ripe delicious fruit you are!” Jervis praised between slurps he let out a moan, he sounded so desperate and needy. Bucking and rolling against his chair more. “yum..yuuuumm my Hare..so sweet..so very delicious.” he hummed the song of the tea party against you. “just perfect to eat!”

You wanted to roll your eyes, to huff and complain at his nonsense but you couldn’t deny he was doing perfect. Your hands tugged on the restraints and you finally felt the ribbon loosen against the handles, yanking your arms forward and the bow came undone as your hands grabbed the back his head, intertwining into the thick heap that was his curly hair. Hatter’s eyes widened In surprise as you broke free from your bounds, his mouth opening to scold you but you beat him to it.

“Poor Hatter… you’re ravenous… someone’s been needing his desert, hasn’t he?” You coo once more, scrunching a fist fall of his hair just beneath the rim on his big top hat.

Hatter turned to putty as you pulled at his curly locks, gasping with a breathless giggle. Your fingers ran deep into his hair, his breathing was frantic as he moaned and whimpered with your hands being so greedy.

Nodding feverishly at your words. “oh yes! I’m famished! I am but a starving man and like the wolves I hunger for tasty rabbits.”

And it was true, he was ravenous, every cell in his body was hungry and wanting more. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His lips glued to the sticky mess that was your sex, sucking on your throbbing clit as he hummed, suckling on you like you were the finest meal he’s ever had. Moaning as he let his nose nudge and nuzzle against the pearl as his tongue slid between your folds and to your entrance.

With great reluctance, he pulled back from you as a string of saliva connected his tongue to you as he panted. His hands pried from your thighs as he began to eagerly tug off the silk gloves finger by finger. “But to truly enjoy my meal, the gloves must come off!” He declared, growing impatient as he just yanked his other glove off his hand and dived back in.

Your hands tighten In his hair as you see him discard his pretty gloves so eagerly. His hand reached between your legs to hold open your dripping cunt as he prodded his tongue inside. Keeping his face as pressed to you as humanly possible as he fucked you with his wiggling tongue. Needing to taste you inside and out. To feel you clench and flutter. To savour each dewy drop you produced just for him. Keening under all his attention as you let out a whine. One hand raising to keep his precious hat on his head as he enjoyed himself vigorously. Knowing he’d go into a moody state if his top hat was knocked off his head no matter his enjoyment. Your thighs trembling against either side of his head as you nod, unable to as words felt impossible. Feeling his tongue deep in you, hungrily lapping and fucking you.

Jervis’s eyes sparkled to see you put care into making sure his hat didn’t fall off. He had you well trained, a marvellous Hare! But then again with a good bunny like you, you would know better not to ruin his hat. Jervis’s grubby hand feel along your thigh as he uses his free hand to hold on to your hips. His other hand using his bare fingers to keep you spread open for him. Spitting directly onto your dewy spot as he giggled, chewing on his bottom lip. Sucking in what was left of his spit as he smeared it into you with his fingers. Watching it string and connect his fingers to your sex.

“Messy bunny…oh you sticky little treat.”

You gasp at the feel of his spit, leaning up as you yank on his hair and tug his head back. “filthy Hatter!” You scold, even if it did make your face warm and your body shudder. Your breathing heavy as you make his big eyes stare up at yours. Brows scrunched up to keep some display of authority. “you’re a dirty little man, aren’t you? Just spitting on your desert, no manners.”

A smile lit up his face, your voice scolding him made it all the more better. His tongue sliding out of his mouth as he let it trace along your wetness, his eyes wide as he looked into yours. Oh how one part of him wanted to put you in your place for scolding him, telling him how he should enjoy you but another whined at your light jabs at his character. Unable to decide, drunk on the taste of you as he licked his lips.

“No manners? No no! I have manners, my sweet, yes – your hatter has all his table manners but…oh you make me feel as if I am topsy-turvy! I am spun in the head!” He shook his head but he couldn’t deny this was pushing at his restraint. He needed more of you. “But I am a starving man and I am in need of more than just a succulent meal, I need warmth and a cosy place to tuck myself into.”

The hatter hastily undid his trousers and shimmered them down as he pulled himself out of his chair and up onto the table, crawling over you as he pulled your legs to your chest, his shoes letting out a squeak against the wooden table as the cloth rode up in his pursuit.

“JERVIS-!” You yelp with surprise, the teapots and cups rattling at the sudden movements. His chest pressing to yours as he nestled himself right where he needed to be, right between those pretty legs as his hands grasped at the edge of the table to keep himself steady. Your legs were hooked under his arms and dangling in the air. Staring up at him with eyes as wide as his as your breathing hitched. Heart racing faster than ever as your hands kept a tight grasp on his hair and down to his shoulders for stability. The weight of him was a welcomed change, feeling his stomach press against yours, feeling its roundness through his waistcoat.

His face was just mere inches from yours, his eyes glued on yours as you breathed. Your warm breath being the only thing he could feel with every exhalation, you could almost feel his heart beating against you. Your arms holding on to him for dear life was just the icing on the cake, a tasty cherry to top it all off.

“oh my, oh my, I’m not too heavy am I? A little hapless Hare like you, you’re not struggling with little ol’ Hatter, are you?” He teased, as he nestled into you, sinking his cock into your warm heat as he gripped the table tighter. His knees slightly bending to keep himself balanced, but more so it was then buckling at just first contact.

He sank in slowly as he stretched you out with the girth of him, as thick as the rest of him but just as short, as he let out giggles. Chewing on his lip to muffle them as he nodded. You gasp, clinging onto him as your legs kick out slightly. Letting out a strained and wobbly ‘ooooh…’ as he pressed into you. Staring down at you he spoke up once more, though strained in his words.

“mmph! Oh-oh h-haha! Hatter has fallen into his very own rabbit hole! I think Hatter will never escape! Ah-!” His hips met yours as he pressed more of his weight onto you, bottoming out completely with delight. He really has been training you well.

Scoffing at his words as your nose pressed against his, your hands gripping at his shoulders. Feeling the ribbon draped off the edge of his hat caress your cheek, returning his intense stare. “I don’t think this rabbit wants you to-“ you finally responded, able to gather the words that threatened to lose themselves on the tip of your tongue. You never wanted him to stop whenever you two got intimate, he made your head spin and your body react in ways you never did with others.

His mouth split Into a smile as he nodded, your hands on him were a delicious pleasure, his hands clawing at the table cloth. He started to pump, keeping pace with his words, his hips moving downwards to meet you. Balls smacking against your ass. “Oh…is that so?” He let out a soft moan as he felt a nice little jolt go through his body that made a little hum escape his throat as his eyes rolled slightly as a spark went through his body. Oh you were so perfect.

“mmm that’s it darling! Good Hare! Good bunny! Good good! Yes! Oh yes!”

You were clenching into him so tightly – why would he ever want to escape when your perfect sex was hugging him? Wrapping his cock In the warmest embrace he could ever withstand. Wanting him as desperately as he wants you. Panting as that familiar warm knot in his gut already formed. Your heat was too much- he whimpered. His eyes widening with a cry of protest as he thrusted into you.

Suddenly, cumming before he could even fully grasp. He couldn’t help but stutter out his breath, a bloom of shame appeared in the heat of his cheeks, trying to maintain appearance. He knew this may happen but this was not what he wanted. Not the first he’s been a quick shooter but with you? He was a man who liked to impress and this was certainly not a moment his own excitement getting the best of him was desired.

“I- you snug rabbit-“ he hissed, that pride of his burning at his own action. He was a brilliant man! The mad hatter! He was-! He…oh he was humiliated. You mouth part, my eyes locked downwards as you watch him falter. Feeling the hot seed shoot and paint your walls, not expecting it at all.

“Oh hatter…” You whine, your hands pulling him closer as you nuzzle your nose to his. “oh my shortcake..my hatter.” You coo, searching his eyes as one hand goes to his cheek, spotting the shame in his red cheeks and now wavering gaze.

“I am not so easily..explosive..” Jervis tried to explain as he tried to pull away from you. Which you hastily made sure he was securely pressed to you, the both of you moaning as his cock twitched inside you. He was in a frenzy of emotions. Your touch was so stimulating, your words sent jolts down his spine as his mind raced. His eyes were glued to your lips, almost wanting to kiss them. But strangely between you two, it felt too sacred. It was expected of two people who have such an affair.

“Did I squeeze too tight? You just make me so excited, I can’t help it, just like you can’t help that little burst, now could you?” You mumble quietly, trying to make sure he doesn't feel embarrassed. If anything, you found it flattering. You loved when he cummed and this was no different.

“oh…dear me…” the heat in his cheeks grew, and his breath quickened as you nuzzled him. Your voice was so sweet and smooth. A shiver went from his shoulders all the way down to his knees when you nuzzled your nose against his. Your comforting hand stroking his face made his lip curl up into a wobbly smile. “oh you are not mad at your Hatter, I couldn’t help it, when you squeeze and squeeze I go pop!”

“oh no, I’m not mad at all, I want…more of that-“ oh how you wanted him to just be blunt but he was a fickle man. Whenever your mouth was too dirty he’d rattle on about manners and how one Should talk to a man of his class so you do your best to reassure him. “-filling of yours, Jervis.”

Spotting his gaze flickering to your lips and you lean forward, kissing the top of his big nose as you shift my hips. Giving them a small wiggle as your feet press into his back to push his body more into yours, feeling him bottom out once again with a shudder.

“I think it would only be fair, wouldn’t you?” You give his hot cheek another caress as you smile at him. Abit strained with your own growing embarrassment. “I know you can do it, you’re the hatter and he can do impossible things, can’t he?" Doing your best to sound as encouraging as you could. You knew if he couldn’t handle it he’d say, no matter if you stroked his ego. He knew his limits.

The man's eyes were locked on yours as they met. Your words of encouragement spur him on, pushing him to go forth. A whimper escaped his lips as you shifted your hips and pushed up against him. The feeling was so incredible, your fluttering heat coaxing a few more strings of cum to ooze out.

“You-you’re so naughty and persistent…oh…oh-…oh damn it-! Just like your delicious quim you can’t go five seconds without wanting more…how is that fair? How can your Hatter ever compete with such a hungry and needy bunny like you?” He pouted, leaning over to kiss your nose back. Leaving another kiss on the edge of your lips as he trembled at the mere act. The tender kiss he couldn’t dare himself to steal.

Jervis started to pump into you once again, but this time slower. Easing himself in and out as the drag of the ridges of your walls and the veins of his cock rubbed so agonisingly deliciously together. His lips were trembling as he began to breathe heavily again. His brows pinched as he felt that confidence warm his chest as he tried to not focus on the twitch of overstimulation just on the edge of sensation. Threatening to make his brain putty.

“But- I am capable of doing many things…”

“I know you are, you’re just so brilliant like that.” You grin, mewling at the feeling of his thrusts. Tilting my head away just enough so your lips couldn’t touch, teasing him. Knowing even when he was balls deep he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you on the lips. It was cute in a way. Charming even.

Gripping onto him tighter than before as you nod. Relishing in his stamina still able to keep him going. “big capable Hatter, huh? I think it’s plenty… fair…you have someone that can’t get enough of you…”

Talking felt easier with the slow pace, words coming out between heavy puffs of air. Your head pressing more against the table, your legs squeezing just under his armpits. There was a numb pain in your back, the cold of the metal tray beneath you but your blood was rushing too fast to truly feel it. Too focus on the feel of him.

The warmth you gave him with your compliments caused him to melt further into you, your words making him smile more. But when you shifted, he frowned a bit, your tease was very naughty. Using his timidness (shocking he could still be) against him. He pouted his lips and made a low noise in the back of his throat as he pushed even more into you. Biting your cheek with a nip as retaliation making you let out a small yelp of surprise.

“But it's been…hard to not keep you filled with cream, turn you into…my little éclair-'' Jervis whined, your heat causing more shivers down his spine as his pace grew more steady. Confident. He grinned, squeezing his eyes shut as his jaw was clenched. Your walls still hugging him like your life depended on it. How very naughty you were!

“oh god- oh god your too tight-!” He whimpered out with a small cry. His hands almost ripping the table cloth as the table trembled and rocked from his movements.

“Your éclair-?” You gasp out, your brain was mush as your legs gripped and lightly kicked at his back. Your eager hands lifted up to reach his, grasping them tightly as your eyes fluttered. “you want that?” You tease more, testing how he’ll react, not the first time he’s said something like that to you but in the silly ways he spoke his filthy desires you couldn’t help but encourage him. Perhaps you were as whipped for him as cream.

Feeling that familiar knot in your stomach as your fingers interlocked. Your own orgasm approaches with each electrifying friction. Feeling his stomach just graze against your clit, the fabric of his waistcoat making you keen.

The feel of your hands grasping his and interlocking with them was like a new set of handcuffs keeping him in place. And how could he ever dream of escaping the wonderland that was you? He couldn't. He wouldn't.

“H-haha…ha ha…oh-oh yes-! I- I want you to be my little éclair. A creamy, delicious one.” He hummed, licking your cheek with one long slow drag of his tongue, tasting your skin. Just able to taste the layer of salt forming on It as his cock twitched. The faster his hips moved the more overstimulation bit at his nerves but you were far too delicious to give up. But he knew his limit was approaching. “I want to fill you till you’re overflowing…and I’ll eat you up-“

Licking his damp lips as he pressed his nose to your cheek as he groaned. Overstimulation began to sting at his pulsing nerves as tears started to form into his eyes, his second orgasm rushing towards the finish line with you.

Just another hard few thrusts and the feel of his body just flicking your bud made that knot slap. “Hatter-!” You let out a squeal, your heels completely digging into his back as your eyes squeezed shut. Toes curling as your own release crashed over you. Your hands gripping his so tight as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to stop from being too loud but your attempt was futile. The loud clattering of the table and the teapots just barely drowning the sounds out.

His eyes shot open at the sudden release of yours. His grip tightened on your hands as he moaned into your cheek, tears falling down his cheek as he slammed into you. Completely filling you.

“oh god- squeezing-! Oh dear god- oooo-ooo-“ his voice faltered as your moans took its place, his body shook uncontrollably, his mind was in oblivion as he emptied himself into you. Painting your walls again, drooling as his mouth hung open. So caught up in it all he didn’t even realise his precious top hat fell off his head!

Feeling his body slump, your hands reached up to his head and cradled it. Easing him down as he jerked and trembled. Feeling sticky wet from his drool against your skin. Your legs falling down and resting on the back of his knees as both of your bodies gave out. His knees knocking against the table with a thud. Cooing as you nuzzled against him. Your hands smoothed and toyed with his curly hair, grounding the both of you as you caught a glimpse of his fucked out expression.

“oh Jervis.” You whisper, giving his cheek a kiss as you tried to ride out the high with him. Your bodies clumsily rub against each other. Feeling the pitter patter of his tears fall down onto your cheek. Immediately consoling him with kisses under and around his eyes.

The man's body was limp, the heat he felt coursing through him left him exhausted, his lips were curled into a small smile as you nuzzled him. Your cooing voice was like a dove's melody to his ears. He was still drooling slightly, he was like a puddle of melted chocolate on your lap, utterly ruined. Liquid in your hands, defenceless and blissed. You were definitely the best sweet he had ever had. His eyelids slowly opened back up, his eyes were tired and his throat was hoarse, his cheeks were still wet with your kisses. He was too exhausted and overwhelmed to speak any words. Only able to make a few slurred giggles and whines. You had completely wrecked him, just as he hoped you would when he got those goons to bring you to him, to present you so prettily with a bow.

“sweet Jervis…my shortcake.” The high left you in a daze but the adrenaline was dying down. Letting out a small noise of discomfort, the consequences of the continuous smack of your bodies made your tailbone hit the large tray you were resting on. In your shared bliss you completely forgot you were still set up like a delicious meal and now your back was feeling sore. Trying to nudge his heavy weight off you, though it was soothing to have. Grounding your dizzy mind.

“I need to move-“

But he didn’t want to move, his legs were jelly and every bump of your bodies together made that overstimulation strike him. Whimpering as his brain screamed for him to move but his body pleaded to stay in your wet heat. He tried to roll over for your own benefit but he miscalculated how far you two were to the side.

Letting out a yelp, never more thankful the flooring of his tearoom was padded as his back smacked against the floor as he fell off the table. Bringing you with him, yelping with him, as the table rattled loudly, the tray under you went clattering down on the floor. His cock falling out of your heat only adds to the jolt. His blissful high ruined as he was forcibly snapped out of it. Blinking as his cheeks were as bright as they could be now before he started to laugh. Unable to restrain himself as laughter poured out.

His laughter cut through the second of silence that came after the crash. Blinking in surprise as you finally noticed the puddle of tea on the table and the floor from all the moving on the table in your vigorous play. Your brain needing a few seconds to catch up to the sudden fall as you looked down at him; The lingering afterglow coating your mind as you listen to his sudden burst of laughter. It caught you off guard. A surprised chuckle escaped you before I started laughing too. Joining him as you both grew amused by the ridiculousness of it all.

His giggling became more genuine, and his eyes finally cleared up as he glanced at the tea mess on the floor. If it weren’t the honeyed glaze coating his brain and the absolute enjoyment of you he’d be sent into a tizzy. He took a big breath before sighing, his laughter turning into dying out chuckles.

“Oh dear, this is why we shouldn’t partake in such acts of debauchery. It's simply not good for our health.”

Your hands slid along his chest, letting out a little whine as you can feel the consequences. The pain shooting up from your tailbone up and the emptiness without his dick stuffing you beautifully. The feeling of his cum dribbling down your thighs and getting on his stomach. Adding to the mess around you two. Nosing his red cheek as I shook my head, a few giggles slipping out.

“perhaps not having it on the table will be for the best”

“Tables will be off limits…until I make some adjustments.” Jervis muses with a grin before a small, disappointed frown washed over his face the consequences of your wildness began to take its toll on you.

His hands went to your back as he saw the little aches of you and it made him frown more. Rubbing your back in tiny little circles with his fingers. He was a responsible person after all. Even after such activities, he shouldn’t have been so greedy with you.

“Oh My dear Hare, are you alright? Are you feeling pain?” His eyebrows wrinkled together in worry.

You nodded, sighing as you sank against him, the mess can be handled after. “My tailbone hurts, must have banged it on the tray dish I was on.” You admit, utterly caught up in the bliss of it all, of him, to even notice but now with adrenaline running out of my system you could feel it. Cuddling close to him as you stroke his cheek.

Oh that displeased him greatly.

“oh bad- bad hatter.” He tuts, shaking his head as he scolds himself. Bad, bad bad.” As he says that each time he makes your hand slap his tear stained cheek, not too harshly but it left a small sting. You wanted to protest, not wanting him to slap himself but he was already moving on. Cuddling you up to him as he forced himself to sit up.

“Luckily I have all the ailments to your issues right here-“ Jervis reaches up for his hat, his marvellous top hat, but it finally struck him! it has fallen off! His eyes wide and a sharp panicked gasp left him.

“my hat! Oh! My hat! Where-? When-?!” His head whipped side to side to see if it landed with you two on the floor. His fingers tapped and searched the very top of his head as if the hat would somehow be found in his curls. “thief-! Theft! Oh I bet it was that blasted cat-!”

The man rants as he scrambles around, but still reluctant to move far from you, checking under the table cloth to find his hat. He needed his hat, it had everything – his hard work and love poured into it. He kept things tucked into the band on the inside. His precious gadget was attached to his hat. How could he ever face batman- his goons- the world without his hat!?

Knowing he was a sensitive man about his hat, you look around with him. Spotting his hat still on the table as you wobbled up, reaching over to and grabbed It. Another wince leaving you as you stretched out your back. Hastily, you placed it firmly back on his head. Making sure all the ribbons and accessories were placed on it were still tidy and didn’t get tea split on it.

“Oh there, there, see it’s like it was never gone.” You sooth, kissing both of his cheeks as you dust off some powdered sugar from the top of it. Keeping your face close to his as you did your best to give a reassuring smile. “No cat, it just fell off.”

Jervis exhaled in relief, his breathing steady again as he watched you reach over and grab his beloved hat. Your touch, sweet and gentle as you place it on Jervis’s head again. It’s as if he breathed better once it hit his head, he seemed less frantic with you there supporting him and his hat back in place. Jervis was still shaking a little, his heart pounding in his throat. You truly were a blessing in his miserable life. He knew you were different from the day he met you, when he stopped hypnotising you and you still obeyed him so happily. You were perfect. So utterly Perfect.

“Oh – my- thank you, oh- god..thank you..”

Now his hat was back, he whipped back to his usual demeanour. Smiling, kissing your nose before he pulls out a ibuprofen packet from the side of his hat, hidden behind some feathers as he lets out a ‘ta da!’.

“Now let’s get you feeling better…I think after all that I need to have another taste of my bunny to calm me down.” He giggled, a mischievous look growing back on his face, his hand stroking along your aching back as he grinned so wide.

[eluminium]

Useless Facts about ImpulseSV: the post

Welcome to “Useless Facts about Impulse”. The title says it all. I am Eluminium, that one fuck who decided to watch every single Impulse hermitcraft season and actually fucking did it, and I have a bunch of completely useless knowledge from it now. AND I SHALL SHARE IT WITH YOU SO YOU TOO MAY ALSO BE ENLIGHTENED! Also cuz i’m bored as shit (Btw i’ll probably keep adding onto this post as I remember or gain more useless knowledge) People who’ve blessed this post with more facts: @bucket-of-amethyst  @tsukinouta  LET THE FACTS BEGIN! First addition of facts: August 7th 2022

-Out of every single base Impulse has constructed on Hermitcraft, 3 and a half of them have featured water as a major design element. These would be the City of Atlantis (S5), iBay (S6), The Pyramid (S7), and the half is his “starter base” temple (S3).  (I count it as a half because he spent a considerable amount of time designing it but it isn’t his main base so to say.) -Impulse has two seasons of Hermitcraft that are the exact same lenght in terms of episodes, these being S3 and S4, both having 57 episodes. -Impulse’s longest season is S6 with 113 episodes, and his shortest is S8 with 35 episodes -Out of every base Impulse has built, only 2 of them do not feature his logo on the inside or outside in it’s final design. These are iBay (S6) and The Pyramid (S7)

-Impulse is shorter then Bdubs IRL. Bdubs claims to be 5′10 while Impulse claims to be 5′8. This makes fanon extremely hilarious

-In S4, the safe rooms Impulse and Tango constructed in the Wither Skeleton farm were called “The Sissy Room”, but only for one episode. After that it’s never mentioned again.

-Impulse’s wife (Ms. Impulse) has never touched Minecraft because she’s an interior designer and would most likely disappear off the face of the Earth if she ever let herself play the game. It hasn’t stopped Impulse from trying a few times though.

-Impulse has a habit of biting off more than he can chew. In 4 out of 7 seasons he’s been in there have been obvious projects that were never finished. These are in order: The roof of his and Tango’s shared Mega Base (S3), A fair amount of The City of Atlantis (S5), The missing farms on the Phinias Board (S7) and the interior of The Candy Factory (S8)

-Impulse’s current keyboard (At the time of writing) was custom made by his son

-In both S3 and S7, Impulse used the exact same floor desgin and armor stand gimmick for his Patreon Monument.

-One of the reasons Impulse and Skizzleman remain such close friends today was because he found a book on networking on Skizz’s bedroom floor when they were both looking to go to a new collage. They both went to the same Networking class after Impulse suggested it and have been glued together ever since. -They absolutely hated that networking class though

-Impulse has had 4 piercings in total. One in the tongue, one eyebrow one, one nipple, and one in the ear. Both the eyebrow one and the nipple one were taken out after they got caught on various zippers, and the ear one was something he did together with his drumline. None of them survived to the present day though.

-Impulse has sold enchanting related things in 4 out of 7 seasons (S4 S5 S6 S9)

-Impulse used to be completely bald and beardless until he grew out his hair and a beard for a No Shave November challange and people said it fit him. He hasn’t returned to baldness since that (At the time of writing) -Every since their introduction, Impulse always carries a totem on him. Although he has a resource pack that makes the totem invisible in first person so it won’t block up the screen as much.

-His Guardian Goodies shop building in S7 is an exact replica of a Guardian “shop” (everything was free) xB designed in S3

-Impulse has won every single “How to Kill” compitition, and with the exact same concept to boot. In “How to Kill a Doc” he made a bunch of traps that looked like the final blow but weren’t, instead having the killing strike be deliver by Impulse himself. In “How to Kill a Tango” he did the exact same thing, although the final blow should have been delt by a Magma Cube instead. Both of these killing machines also share similar surprises. Both involve fire charges (One from dispensers, one from a live Ghast), anvil launchers and TNT. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it i suppose?

-Impulse actually bought the “copyright rights” to the “i” brand from Iskall in S6 so he could keep iTrade open without confusion. Never got something similar from iJevin thought.

-When S6 updated to the villager update, Impulse managed to obtain a glitched Farmer Villager who never locked up his trades no matter how much you traded with him. Although he did lose a fair amount of villagers in iTrade too, so it was more a soul for a soul.

-The only season Impulse was part of that never had Elytras was ironically S3, the one with amplified terrain.

-The first time Impulse properly tested out the Elytra, it lagged so bad he died from fall damage by falling into Xisumas Guardian Farm. The elytra refused to open.

-Impulse and Tango has had an agreement since Impulse joined in S3 that they can take certain resources from each other’s storages and farms without asking before hand. They call this “Mi casa, Ti casa” or “My house, your house”.

-In 4 out of 7 seasons, Impulse has had at least one entire video that centers around either a request from xB, or featuring xB himself. (S3 S4 S5 S7)

-The “SV” in impulseSV could be read as “impulsive” but it actually stands for Impulse’s IRL initials

-Impulse was introduced to Minecraft via his son, who wanted to get into gaming. Impulse mostly played shooters but he didn’t want his kid to play those types of games at his age, so a coworker suggested Minecraft. Although his kid didn’t know anything about the game, so he had to hop on and learn too.

-Impulse plays Minecraft with an inverted mouse. This is because he got so used to flying helicopters in various shooters it made more sense to his brain that dragging the mouse down means up, and pushing it up means down.

-Impulse started out as a fan of Tango’s until he learned that he and Tango are pretty similar in age and in video style. So he e-mailed Tango about a collab and he accepted. Later they learned they lived incredibly close to each other and went out for some “sodas” (aka BEERS). The rest is history.

-The name Impulse along with the black and yellow colour scheme is something Impulse stole from his drumcore’s name and colour scheme. His favourite colour is actually purple.

-Impulse and Skizz live in the same neighbourhood (at the time of writing)

Second addition of facts 9th of August 2022

-Impulse has a dog (specifically a Border Collie) named Prim and a cat named Luna. Luna was a gift for his older daughter. Impulse wasn’t the biggest fan of cats until his wife got one, and he fell in love as well.

-He and Skizz have been best friends for over 25 years (at the time of writing)

-Impulse has a collage degree in computer information systems, because he was too spooked by a full on computer science degree.

-Despite being born in Iowa. Impulse has lived in Arizona since he was 5 years old.

-Impulse was born in 1981. Skizz is 2 years older. You do the math.

-Impulse ain’t no single child, he has a sister who once saved him from drowning. This was after he had colided with a boat on a Jetski as a kid.

-Impulse is a father of 3, his oldest is heading to collage (at the time of writing) and his youngest is 10.

-If any government or HOA people asks what Impulse’s new studio is (at the time of writing), it’s totally just a guest house. nothing else. nothing to see here.

-He met his wife in collage.

-His channel was originally made to be a sort of memory box of him and his son playing games together.

-His wife has a Etsy store where she sells custom made jewlery. It’s called Desert Medows Design (it’s actually pretty sick ngl)

-Impusle is a pretty big “sportsball” (aka Sports) fan and usually brings it up in streams. Not for long though considering he recognises that most people who watch him aren’t that into sportsball (his words not mine. honestly though it is pretty cool to listen to, could be just a me thing.)

Third addition of facts 12th of August 2022

-Impulse has a back injury that appearenly reappears to cause problems sometimes. He got it from playing Volleyball one time and messed up a muscle in his back when jumping. According to the man himself, when that pain flares back up it can leave him stranded on the couch with ice packs and heatpads for a fair while.

-According to Skizzleman, Impulse doesn’t handle blood very well. He got hit in the face with a pizza box once and the bleed he got from that made him serverly nauseous.

-Impulse has a slight gluten intolerance Fourth addition of facts 18th of August 2022

-Impulse has back teeth retainers.

-Impulse hates olives. Like “Will throw up” levels of hate. He shares this hatred with Tango.

(thats enough for now but i’ll probably add more as i think them up)

[biohazard-inevitable]

Hair

They say that hair holds stories, that the style is what makes a man.

They say long locks make you a pansy and a real man should have it short lest they be mistaken for a girl.

Where I grew up, every man buzzed their hair down.

It was a shame for it to be long and shaggy, and mothers would fuss over you, insisting upon a haircut.

For girls, it was fine.

They could have hair as long as they wanted or as short as they needed, so long as it wasnt buzzed as short as a man’s.

Being anything else just wasn’t a thing round these parts where churches chimed every sunday, pastors clammoring around resturants and filling their quotas in a single lunch.

So I buzzed mine.

I tried as hard as I could to seem as manly as possible

To appear as bull of a brute as any cowboy should.

I wore all the boy things and had all the short boy hair.

My scalp was sensitive anyways, so I thought it didn’t bother me.

It was better shorter.

Wasnt it?

I still gazed and clammored about the anime boys I saw on screen or in Otome games though.

I gushed about how pretty they were with hair down their backs like a silken curtain, or whipping wild through the air like the mane of a lion.

Legolas was never deemed as not manly enough

Beither was Zen or inuyasha or the undertaker.

A crush, I supposed.

Because of course thats all it was.

I was a gay little boy with gay little crushes and my type was men with long, Beautiful hair.

Right?

My hair was a dull, discolored brown from the shimmering blonde it used to be, the blonde I remember from kindergarten.

I tried to return to that blonde with bleach.

My school didnt allow unnatural colors, so anything was better than that matted, oily brown.

Shaved short and as platinum as a ken doll, I should have been as man as ever.

4 years, I stayed like that, and while the short hair was easy to take care of, I felt as hideous as a pile of sludge.

It didnt matter if I was loved for my looks, I supposed.

Wouldn’t that be too vain of me?

Boys weren’t supposed to care about what they looked like, they werent supposed to coo and admire Beautiful hair or seethe in jealousy that their sister looked so much better and has such long, goregous hair.

It wasn’t until after high school that I began to explore.

Covid let me grow my hair out more, though I still trimmed the sides.

I let my bangs grow long and shaggy over my face, like a veil to hide me from the world.

Eventually I dyed it again, this time going with that green I had always wanted to try, the one I had seen on my favorite youtuber growing up, fluffy and emerald.

Still, for years more, I kept it short. Only allowing that fringe to hover over me as some sort of style.

Recently though, I’ve realized I want that hair that those anime men had.

I want that soft curtain rolling down my back like waves of an ebony river, flecks of mossy green dotting it like a miasma of toxin flowing through the oily black stream.

I want the hair like the ring girl

The people around me are foolish and prudent to think the length of ones hair makes you more or less of a man.

I know that now, and I’m glad I do.

I want to stop pretending not to like things

[sofoulandfairaday]

for @monicafave who asked me about my opinions on Lucius Malfoy.

TW: very brief mention of sexual assault (DE crimes).

Honestly, one of the (few) improvements the movies made on the books. Jason Isaacs is hot. And has so much charisma when playing the villain I cannot see anyone else doing the character justice in the remake. Also, Lucius doesn't have long hair in the books, but it's the only way I imagine him (my headcanon is that Draco grew his hair out eventually too). Also, the choice to make him unshaven in the last movies? Gold. 10/10.

He wore his hair a little shorter in the First War, but still long enough it could be tied back with a ribbon.

Is a victim to one of the worst takes in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom of all time, which is of course abused!Draco. It angers me more than abused!Black Sisters, or abused!Remus... grrrr, it makes me so mad. If there is one (1) character in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom, only ONE that we can be sure wasn't abused by his parents, that was Draco. Where - where? - do people get the absurd idea that Lucius was a cruel father and husband, who routinely cheated on his wife and beat her and their son?

(Also, imagine beating/cursing Narcissa Black, who was not only vicious herself, but also the beloved only sister of Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Like. Who would do that? Madmen wouldn't do that.)

Abusive Lucius for the sake of being cruel makes me laugh. It makes me giggle. The man wouldn't be able to correctly use a Stinging Jinx, never mind the fucking Cruciatus Curse, on either of them if Lord Voldemort was pointing his wand directly between his eyes. Although-

Yes, he is a coward. Which, by the way, there is a big difference between being unable to actively hurt your family members and passively standing by when they are threatened/tortured. The big, realistic failure of Lucius, the one that would sour his image in both Draco & Narcissa's minds by the end of DH, is not that he hurts them directly, it's that he says nothing, does nothing, when his son is branded by the Dark Lord and sent on a suicide mission, is that he says nothing, does nothing, when his wife and son are openly mocked by the Death Eaters, who do as they please in his own home. If Voldemort threatened to torture either of them, Lucius would probably fall to his knees, beg for mercy, but he would not, could not bring himself to stand up and dive in front of the curse. He would watch, horrified, as they are tortured- that is what spoils their view of him in the end.

As the author herself has said, the Malfoys' saving grace is that they love each other.

His fault is cowardice, not cruelty (to family at least) and that's the hill I'll die on.

Lucius, as a character, represents the banality of evil. Indifference. Cowardice. Casual cruelty. Upholding of unjust systems. Not sadism. If you don't understand the difference, you're a bad writer.

Moving on.

He was highly competent in the First War. And by competent I mean competent. There is no way this guy was Voldemort's... second in command (?) or at least one of his top-ranking Death Eaters if he acted anything like he did post-Voldemort's rebirth.

I don't know whether to cry or laugh at his character, actually. He's so petty (he tries to ban The Fountain of Magical Fortune from the Hogwarts Library because it depicts the relationship between a witch and a Muggle, which he deems obscene, and when Dumbledore replies “Nu-uh, suck it, I know about all the Half-bloods in your family tree you hide”, the response prompted several further letters from Lucius, consisting of "opprobrious remarks" on Dumbledore's sanity, parentage, and hygiene).

He's a simp for his wife, whom he loves more than anything in the world (except maybe for Draco). He tries to send Draco to Durmstrang, where Karkaroff is headmaster and no Muggleborns are allowed, and Narcissa says “No, I want my son close to home” and that's the end of that. He puts up with having Bellatrix in his house (she really doesn't like him), and the two of them don't kill each other merely for Cissa's sake.

In my headcanons, they didn't hate each other in the First War. They weren't best friends by any means but they respected each other well enough and had a somewhat cordial if a bit prickly relationship (although, I love fics that get their bickering right). But then Halloween 1981 happens. I have a lot of headcanons for that night and I don't think I've ever really detailed them, so I will now.

They have an early dinner all together - Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan - and then the Lestranges leave. After the clock strikes ten, they feel a searing pain in their forearms. The Mark is gone. There are a few minutes of what the fuck do we do now and two very distinct ideas pop up. Bellatrix would rather die than forsake Voldemort, she's willing to battle every soul in Britain if it means finding him. He is not dead, he is not. He is immortal. They have him, they've captured him with some weird trick and are holding him hostage. Lucius, on the other hand, takes a good, hard look at his left forearm and decides well, this fucking sucks but at least we had a good run. He is not about to risk his family name by picking duels with the Aurors. The second after he's waltzing in the Ministry, telling everyone who'll listen that he's just woken up from the Imperius Curse, and blackmailing/bribing/threatening his way out of Azkaban. You must do the same!, Lucius and Narcissa tell Bellatrix. Traitors, backstabbers, vermin, is the reply. She is truly, seriously, hurt and furious that they would denounce the Dark Lord. To her, it's the most horrid of betrayals.

This is when she loses her second sister. It's the moment Narcissa makes it clear that not only she will denounce Voldemort with every breath, but she will stop Lucius from going after a dead master. We have a son, Bella, he is our priority. We have a son, and you do not. You don't know what it means. It's a nice little parallel to the end of Deathly Hallows - I cannot stress this enough: Narcissa's lie to save her son causes her sister's death. Narcissa indirectly kills her. Bellatrix and Narcissa's relationship is never the same after that.

On a lighter note. It's canon that Lucius has little hobbies: peacocks and collecting Dark artefacts!

Also, he has a sick interior designer because the secret chamber beneath their living room is a marvellous idea, I need one of those.

A bit of a germophobe.

Cruel, but again: casual cruelty. Yes, he enjoys tormenting Muggles because they are less than human to him; no, he does not enjoy watching little Mudblood children get bitten by Greyback or Muggle women being raped (and no, before you ask, he would never lower himself to something like that, even if Narcissa wasn't in the picture).

Inspired by the movies, of course, but he has great fashion sense.

He was nice looking, definitely not incredibly handsome (unlike my boy Rodolphus who is hot) but he was very charismatic, so much so that Narcissa Black fell desperately for him, much to Andromeda's dismay and Bellatrix's perplexity.

Elaborate courting ritual (peacock-like, get it? ah ah).

The second most extravagant wedding of the century (Bella & Rod take the cake on that, you have no idea).

I am fascinated by his relationship with Voldemort. By the end of the second war, the two pretty much despise each other (and if Cursed Child is to be believed - which I don't - Lucius had a Time Turner tucked away and never once tried to use it to bring Vold back). But what about during the first war? Lucius' loyalties were always to the Cause more than to the man, and yet he is given the Diary. First War Lucius must have been fascinated by Voldemort - we see a hint of this in GoF when he asks Voldemort to tell them how he managed to survive the Killing Curse.

I think Voldemort saw this fascination and somehow, in his usual arrogance, misunderstood it. You see, the way I think of (and write) the Death Eaters is very Succession-y: everyone wants to be Voldemort's favourite, the one to sit to his right, the closest to him. During the First War, Lucius would have sold his mother to be closest to Voldemort. His entire worldview shifts when Draco is born, and as Lucius grows to love him. The same went for everyone else, including Snape. This is why, to me, Voldemort doesn't see their betrayals years later: he is used to thinking that they would do anything, sacrifice anyone, for him. He doesn't see that the love they feel for others is stronger than whatever fucked-up bond is there.

And, if you think about it, the two Death Eaters that are truly, fanatically, loyal above everything else are the two that are in love with/love him. Bellatrix and Barty.

Stopping now because my head is falling on my keyboard from sleepiness. Hope you enjoyed! I probably have more somewhere.

[zappedbyzabka]

Ftm/transmasc Johnny thoughts...

(tw for everything on that topic)

His white-knuckled grasp on masculinity and the way he thinks he should perform it—all these arbitrary things he and others have applied manliness to, like how much meat is in his food, sucking up his feelings, and how attractive women find him: It all just feels like a person who thinks that if they don’t keep up a strict image of masculinity then everyone will take away that ‘Man’ title.

Just like any boy worries—especially trans boys.

Johnny wants to be perceived as and live as who he is. It’s hard when if you’re a nonconforming guy, you’ll be seen as just a girly boy, but when you’re someone who has to take more steps than that, who has to put in way more effort to even receive that “boy” title, anything could end up with you thrown back in the box of “girl”.

He had the privilege of having a rich stepdaddy who just wanted him to be quiet and behave however he could get that to happen—which happened to be testosterone, cutting his hair even shorter than it was, and being called “He”

Plus, a white lie that he was just an effeminate little kid who grew out of it to anyone who was confused as to where Laura’s pretty daughter went. He just had to avoid anyone who really knew him before.

Because people accept that more than the truth, which is that he was a girl who was always a boy.

Kreese was the only man besides Sid whom he had as a male role model—and of course, Kreese was the only one he loved. The one he thought he should be like—and we all know what a wonderful impact Kreese has.

He wasn’t allowed to care like his mother. He wasn’t allowed to cry. He wasn’t allowed to be a pussy. He wasn’t allowed to be anything but what he saw in front of him, what he saw in movies—stereotypical and obvious.

If he said he enjoyed the dresses his mother used to buy him, he's a faker.

If he mentions that he always loved little soldier toys and monster truck jammies, then he’s not faking. When he’s in the locker room talking about girls and football, isn’t faking. If his towel slips, he’s faking.

That’s how it is. It doesn’t matter who he is inside if people can’t see it.

It’s tiring. He didn’t really enjoy playing a whole new act.

But he clung to every shred of “proof” he had, even when he started to pass. Even when all the “Mis—I mean, Sir”s stopped, even when there was no trace of Joanie.

When she was dead to him and everyone that knew her.

Bobby was there the whole time, he watched Johnny’s progression, was the first to call him Johnny, and was the first Johnny felt comfortable changing in front of. Bobby had some difficulty with his parents over it, and it made Johnny feel terrible. It felt like he was a burden, and his freakiness would always get in the way. That’s why he took so long to be open with any of the the other Cobras about it, besides the fear of getting thrown in a lake for what he is.

Just his existence caused ripples.

He could always tell when his mother missed her daughter—some days he felt like a murderer.

He didn’t like the pressure he felt with the girls he pursued to be this overly masculine meathead. Ali never pushed him into anything—she actually seemed to hate his macho act—but there are rules to being a boyfriend, like there are rules to being a girlfriend, right? You gotta be dominating and tough, and you can’t let her touch your ass even if you want her to, and you can’t talk about other boys you find cute because only girls can like boys, and he’s not a girl just like he’s not a fag. That’s what it is to be the man of a woman.

He didn’t want to be questioned. He didn’t want to see doubt in anyone’s face.

Maybe it was one reason he was so fucking angry about Daniel.

It felt like Ali went off to find herself a real boy. One who couldn’t fight, had no muscles, and probably didn’t even know who Rocky was- did none of the things Johnny had to do.

He wasn’t even taller than Ali like Johnny!

He got to just got…relax into the role of being male.

But maybe it was his view of women that he learned from Kreese that drove her away. Maybe it’s how he forced himself to act. Maybe it’s because his strive had him stepping on women by accident.

Johnny found himself wanting to be more like Daniel. Unquestioned in his shortcomings. Effortlessly masculine yet not always doing what’s expected of him. He could do things like...keep his own hair silky without feeling like a gender traitor.

It was infuriating. It was unfair. It was embarrassing. It made him wonder if he slipped up with Ali and she lost attraction to him. He wondered If he wasn’t enough.

Kreese “had no issue with such a strong appreciation for the male lifestyle.” Saw that unique pain in Johnny as another way to mold him. Told Johnny that if his parents failed him, he’d be there to provide his hormones. You really can’t fuck up with a kid that desperate to be accepted, can you? Desperate, glowing potential Kreese needed to keep hidden under his wing. Doesn’t matter what he calls himself, as long as he does what Kreese tells him to.

He could drip alcohol into the cut when Johnny misbehaved with a simple pronoun slip up.

When Johnny got choked by Kreese and completely lost a pillar in his life, he fell completely into his persona, even when he was with the Cobras who always had a way of making him forget he wasn’t born like them.

Beer and chicks and cars and meat—hell yeah, right? Yeah. Yeah. Those are his favorite things. That’s all he wants. Men are supposed to want to fuck things and they’re supposed to look at porn, so he tries to want it. He’s a man’s man, and he never wants to do any of the feminine shit he used to.

He was near-frantic when he kept having rough patches and couldn’t afford his hormones without Sid’s allowance. His life was in that old man’s hands, and when Daniel raised the rent, he felt sickeningly afraid that he’d have to choose between giving up his dojo or giving up the shots that made him feel just okay enough to keep going.

It feels like the comfort of being the man came with a whole new torture caused by the weight of what it really means to be that man—The feeling or the performance? Is he still man enough if he misses a shot?

He never had any surgery. He honestly never really thought about it–he was the only trans person he knew growing up, and he didn’t really…want it? Whenever he told people his condition, that was always the question. “So...did you get surgery yet?”

Yet.

Like he had to do it. As if it were required of him, like all the countless other things, if he wanted to be who he was on the inside.

His chest was the same size as a man with pecs on the plumper side, so who cares? He liked the way he looked there. No one ever commented on his chest, because it’d be rude to say anything about that that to a man.

He didn’t want doctors touching him, or observing him. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it.

He still wears binders like he used to and stuffs his pants every now and then—on hard days when he’s worried someone will look into his eyes and just...know.

I imagine Daniel having zero idea until he happened to find Johnny with his binder halfway on. Ending up ruddy and panicked and slamming the door closed to give Johnny privacy.

And Daniel’s old and not all that well-versed in such things, but he tries to be gentle with delicate topics and delicate people.

The talk he and Johnny would have would be awkward. Snappy and defensive on Johnny’s end.

He would somehow be more knowledgeable on the topic than Johnny and it wouldn’t go to far the first time, but slowly and surely Johnny would open up for him. Tell him more and more. Reveal what the big driver for his anger with him was.

There’s something sweetly validating about the man you considered an enemy for so long accepting you as you are and validating you—even with all the details.

Maybe Johnny starts to cry again. starts grooming himself again. Gaining his “I don’t care what you think because I could kick your ass” attitude.

Maybe all the joy of having people that care about him in his life—reconciling with his kid perhaps—has him relaxing his shoulders for once.

Maybe he lets himself try a queer bar. Lets his eyes wander over to other men, easy and guiltless unlike the other times, because truly what’s manlier than liking other men? Maybe he lets himself go home with one, lets himself ask for what he wants because the guy seemed to already understand everything, like he’d been with people like Johnny before. He had no expectations.

(There’s also a world where Sam confides in him about her feeling like she has to be hyper-feminine and palatable to be liked when maybe she wants to shave her head and still wear skirts—)

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hair Care

curly hair! gn reader x Eddie

AN: Absolute Fluff and short! This is inspired by the fact that I am STILL trying to learn how to treat my hair because it's been so damaged from all the bleaching and I haven't been treating it like curly hair/ am still learning the ropes. Pls any other curly/wavy hair people (esp those of you who have bleached or dyed your hair) give tips if you can :) anyways, like and comment and reblog pls, as always!

Content: GN! Reader, no description of appearance other than shorter than Eddie + soft and voluminous curls. Eddie learning Curly Hair Routine, established relationship, fluff.

“Are we almost done?,” Eddie whines from the seat below you, his hair still visibly wet and his lips in the most adorable pout. You want to kiss the little spot between his brows that furrowed but instead roll your eyes at his dramatics, smiling softly. 

“Eds, it’s only been like 5 minutes. Don’t be such a drama queen,” You joke, smiling at how he seems to further slouch in the small chair you set up for him to sit in as you tried to help with his hair. 

Eddie prides himself on his hair, loving the length and the curls, bragging about how similar it is to Kirk Hammett from Metallica. He also loves your curls and how they always seem to look so full of volume and soft. You two have been together for some time now, but it wasn’t until today that Eddie caught you on a wash day. 

He had excitedly jumped into the shower with you, helping wash and condition your hair. Brushing softly while your hair was wet, and you had done the same to him, humming as he bent down to let you get to his scalp. When you had exited the shower and started working on your hair routine, Eddie had cocked his head at you like a confused puppy. He mostly used leave-in conditioner after a thorough wash and let his hair air dry for simplicity. Your heart leapt at the sight and you shyly offered... 

“Want me to do yours too?” 

Which is what led you here. You explained to Eddie about the curl cream, the curl gel, the mousse, and the serum that you used in order to protect and hydrate your curls. You know Eddie grew up with Wayne mostly, who is a simple and gruff man, and definitely has lived his life with straight hair. He hadn’t grown up with a routine or guidance on how to keep the wild mane soft and protected. You also know Eddie did take care of his hair despite this, the soft locks usually kept tousled and effortless with the teeniest little bit of hairspray (his biggest secret) . And the last thing you’re sure of, is that despite Eddie’s grumbling over having to sit in a chair for longer than 5 minutes, he loves to be taken care of from time to time. 

You take your time, working the curl cream into the hair first, curl gel next, then the mousse. You get him to scrunch his hair a bit and then wait a minute before beginning to work on using your diffuser on him, his pout deepening because for the next few minutes he couldn’t speak over the roar of the blow dryer. You could see his shoulder relax, however, and his eyes seem to stare at you in the mirror, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. No matter what you did or how long you were together, his gaze never seemed to fail at making your heart skip a beat. 

After the whole thing is said and done, you softly work the serum into his hair, and scrunch out the stiffness from the gel. You smile down at your handiwork, admiring his soft and voluminous curls, then look at him in the mirror as he stares at you, eyes soft with clear affection. 

“So…whaddya think? Am I the top hairstylist this side of the Mississippi?”, You joke, feeling his eyes on you, his mouth tilting up in that crooked smile you felt your heart flutter for. 

“It’s amazing, baby. Thank you,” He says softly, kissing your cheek and squeezing your hand. “Now I gotta brag to Harrington that I’m ‘The Hair’ now,” He grinned, dimples making an appearance. He raced out of the bathroom, heading straight for the phone.

You laughed, shaking your head. 

Steve is never gonna let you hear the end of this.