#new friends so i did and they were much better

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Your Specialty (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer sees his significant other comforting a child and it makes him wonder. A/N: Written for my best friend on her birthday. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Minor self-deprecation, implied difficult childhood, crying Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

Spencer loves you every day. There is never a doubt or a hesitation. With each glance, he finds something new to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he is right to love you.

But there are some moments where even he, in his seemingly infinite wisdom, is unable to put into words the way he feels when it comes to you. In those moments, all he can do is silently soak in the unknowing.

It was a quiet moment, all things considered. There was no more bad guys to be caught, no more bloodshed to be had. Still, there were tears, as there usually were when you were around.

It wasn’t your fault. You just have a way about you that makes people feel… loved. Sometimes for the first time.

Spencer peers through his open office door to find you. You are on your knees, eyes locked with the young boy standing in front of you.

His small body shakes with incoherent sobs. He is held steady only by your gentle hands cupping his face. Despite the sight, you are smiling. A calm, subtle curve that holds him up in another way.

From where he is, Spencer can’t hear your words. But he can still feel the relief. He finds himself mirroring you both, with deep inhales fighting against the knot his throat. The air comes out warm and trembling.

In that moment, as he watches you comfort something small, he is a little boy again. He is the one lifting his arms in a silent request to be loved in a simple way.

And he can feel it. He feels your arms as they wrap around the little boy and lift him gently from the ground.

The feeling is almost too much, but he doesn’t look away. He watches and waits patiently for you to let the little boy go.

He waits for you to notice, to quickly come to him before your own trembling hands are noticed by the boy being carried away to what Spencer still hopes will be a happily ever after.

Spencer watches you the entire time. His own mind races, struggling still to find words to explain the feeling in his chest.

He’d almost gotten it when you interrupt the thought with a laugh.

“What is it?” you ask.

Any eloquence vanishes and is replaced with a stammer.

“You’re uh… you’re good at that,” he says. "Comforting kids."

Somehow, it sounds better than it did in his head.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the compliment, you glance over your shoulder to see the boy still watching you.

You recognize the same expression on your lover’s face.

“Kids are easy to love,” you answer.

He accepts your humility. He meets the modesty with his own typical self-deprecation.

“You should’ve seen me as a kid.”

Beneath the words, you hear the uncertainty. That stubborn, relentless fear that there is something rotten to be found in his heart.

You narrow your eyes as you inspect him. His shoulders square under your scrutiny. You look at him, carefully reviewing each wrinkle and freckle. You tilt your head to look at him in another way.

And you find nothing at all rotten.

“I would’ve liked that,” you tell him in earnest.

Emboldened, but still afraid, Spencer dares to take another step forward.

“What do you think you would’ve said?” he says like it’s a joke.

This time, your pause is a couple beats longer.

You look at the man in front of you and try to imagine him with teeth too big for a tiny frame. You imagine unruly curls and thick, crooked glasses perched over innocent eyes.

You look at the man you love and you see it. A small boy staring up at you in his oversized suit. Always trying to be both smaller and bigger than he was meant to be.

“I’d tell him,” you say, unsure of your own words, “that he’s strong and clever, and he shouldn’t have to try so hard to prove it to everyone.”

Spencer sucks in a breath that betrays his aloof demeanor. The words hit him like a swift blow to the stomach. But even with the pain, he hopes you’re not finished.

You’re not.

“I’d tell him that I know he’s trying his hardest, and sometimes things are bigger than us and…”

You bite your tongue to stop tears from welling. You breathe in sharply, reaching up to place both palms against his reddened cheeks. You laugh as they shift towards a goofy grin despite tears.

“I’d tell him that everything’s going to be okay,” you say confidently.

“Oh,” he chuckles; a sad but necessary sound.

"Yeah."

Gentle thumbs wipe each droplet that manages to spill from big golden brown eyes. The same as you had moments before, you catch what you can of his sadness and turn it to comforting warmth across his cheek.

Spencer bites his lip, looking down at your feet before daring to look at you again. Because when he does, he loses his breath and his sense once more.

“I, uh... I think he would’ve liked that,” he confesses.

“I know,” you whisper with a genuine remorse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Spencer accepts the apology but refuses to stay in the past any longer.

“But you’re here now,” he says quickly.

“Yeah, I am,” you laugh in return. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

But letting you go is the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, he pulls you closer until there is nothing but atoms between you. Strong arms embrace you and his clever words muffle against your hair.

“I wouldn’t even dare to try.”

Together, you settle into the silence. You share your warmth without restraint. Just two bodies swaying in a simple and symbiotic embrace. You enjoy the comfort, the company, the lack of need for words to describe it all.

And once you feel he’s had his fill, you sigh against his shirt.

“You know, I’m going to get through to that little boy eventually.”

Spencer halts his step as he starts to laugh.

“Is that a threat?” he asks.

Without moving from your place against him, you smile.

“Watch out, Dr. Reid,” you hum. “I’ve been told I’m good at this.”

Spencer accepts the warning with a smile.

“Yes," he chuckles. "Yes, you are.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[wheres-mylove]

puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader

Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.5k

A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.  

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.

Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.

“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.

“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.

“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”

“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”

Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”

The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”

“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”

“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”

With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.  

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.

She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.

She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.

Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”

Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.

“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”

Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.

The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.

“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”

And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.

“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.

She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.

“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”

She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?

“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.

“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.

The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.

She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.

“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”

Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”

Ah. The young Stark. 

“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”

The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.

The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.

“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.

It was the girl’s turn to laugh.

“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.

“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.” 

“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”

Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.

“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”

Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.

“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”

“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”

“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”

(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”

“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”

Smooth, Cregan, smooth.

Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.

“Now, let’s help you with that.”

That old hag was right. He had good arms.

The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.

But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.

Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was. 

Helaena Targaryen.

“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before (Y/N) even had a chance to say hello.

“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” (Y/N) shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”

“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”

“I mean,” (Y/N) sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”

He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.

Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my god, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”

(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”

“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”

The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”

“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”

(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”

“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”

She knew he wasn’t.

“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”

A strange noise woke her up.

It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.

“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.

Frosty?

She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.

He wanted her to follow him.

“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty was checking over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up.

In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.

“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.

“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.

“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.

“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.

“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”

Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”

“You really got that worried?” 

“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”

That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.

“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”

“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”

Cregan placed the mug in front of her.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.

Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”

Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?

“Are you asking me out?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.

“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”

He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”

She liked him so much.

“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?” 

“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.

Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.

Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.

Well done, human.

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[gguk-n]

Fading Shadow (Lando Norris x ex-Reader)

Part 2 of Last Straw Inspired by this request

Summary- Y/N moved on. Lando is still stuck, on what they had and what he lost.

{Reader's POV}

The moment I landed back home, I felt relief wash over me when I cried in my mother's arms. I had been holding on to too much, it seems. My father brought my favourite food and we ate together and we laughed together. This was the therapy I needed. My siblings weren't very happy with Lando since they had seen everything unfold on social media but they were happy to have their sister back. I was happy to be back home. I needed this, I needed my people.

I decided I needed a change of pace, a change of scenery. I had been mourning my relationship while I was still in it. Now, I was a new me, I was going to do everything I wanted.

I applied at the company I always wanted to work at but due to there being no vacancies I was assigned a job in a different country and I was ready to take on the world. I knew Lando would never search for me, he never truly loved me but I still wanted to leave. I needed a fresh start.

{Lando's POV}

The silence after the break up was exactly what I needed, or so I thought. I could leave as I wished. I could go out whenever I wanted. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone. It's so much better to be single then to be tied down.

I didn't think I would ever miss Y/N, but I did. I remember exactly when I missed her for the first time; it was after a difficult race and I had finish decently with the shitty cards I had and I just wanted someone to tell me how well I did; but there was no one; no one who knew what I wanted to hear. I felt so alone even when I was surrounded by hundreds of people for the first time in a long time.

The second time I missed her was when I was stood on top of the top step of the podium. I wanted to have her around so I could share my highs with her. I didn't get a 'do you wanna go out to celebrate?' like the last two times and I aired her both time to party with random girls. Right now, I was in the club celebrating my third win of my career and season and I felt empty and alone. Not even the alcohol helped.

The house we lived in was a stark reminder of the time we spent together. All our dates we had. All the times she would teach me how to cook but we would always end up with a big mess and half cooked or burnt food since I would get distracted. In retrospect, I loved every second of it even though I never admitted it then. I love all the time we spent together or the laugh she would emit when I messed up. I missed her and I wish she was here; I was too stupid to admit it then but I do now.

Oscar was getting sick and tired of me using his phone to check on Y/N's social media accounts since she had blocked me every where. I would end up borrowing the other driver's phone to check, just in case. Until one day, her account stopped showing up for Oscar too. I went through almost everyone on the paddock's phone to see if she had blocked my friends. Turns out, she had deactivated her social media accounts; I realised that after one of the gossip pages posted about her deactivating her profiles, across all the platforms.

I would wake up from dreams about her and I would fall asleep to the thought of her. No woman interested me anymore; I wish I was this loyal when we were dating, when she could see that I loved her, not now when she couldn't even see I had changed.

My PR team was losing their shit when I tweeted that. I had to sit through a stupid meeting after everything. It was miracle I didn't start crying in the middle of the meeting.

People had started to notice I guess, since Carlos approached me. "Cabron, what's up?" he asked while I was lying on my couch after media day. "Nothing" I hummed. "I fucked up right?" I asked. "I can't say no" Carlos said. I laughed painfully. "I didn't know how good I had it until it was all gone. I'm an ass and I deserve everything I'm getting" I cried. Carlos comforted me, hugging me tightly. "I just wish she would talk to me, at least once. So, that I could show her that I've changed. I really have Carlos. I love her so much, it hurts" I cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lando" he said patting my back.

There's a saying, You don't know what you've got until it's gone. I was living that nightmare and I will never stop living it.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

______________________________________________________________

Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[stoopakoopa]

Day 8 - Reunion

Drew out a little snippet from @donze-trash's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!

Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️

Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.

To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?

The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.

Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.

"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.

"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.

Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"

"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.

The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me." 

Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.

When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet!  The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…

One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.

"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."

The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon).  Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.

Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.

Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!

Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.

The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.

"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement. 

"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot. 

Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"

"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.

The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?" 

Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.

But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh  mano?" 

"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point. 

"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.

"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.

Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.

"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.

Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.

Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.

"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.

Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.

They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.

"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!" 

"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.

Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.

This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.

"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."

"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.

Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again, pt.3

logan x reader

summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he’s in a different timeline and you are very much alive.

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words. THIS PART IS UNEDITED SORRY

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The air smelled like cigarettes and regrets, the perfect kind of bar for Logan Howlett. He walked in, tugging at his dark jean jacket. The place was dark sans a few overhead lights here and there, but he spotted you instantly at the bar. With your back to him, he watched as you slapped the counter several times. At first he thought you were made but he noticed the way the bartender was laughing. He moved closer to see what was going on and walked into the tail end of a story. “...and then Wade shit his pants! It was amazing.”

“I did not!”

Logan hadn’t noticed Wade next to you but the merc grew louder in trying to defend himself. Slightly amused, Logan ordered a beer and watched the pair of you go back and forth until you finally noticed him. You smiled and a hand fell on his shoulder as you stood up from the stool. He recognized how wasted you actually were and without thinking, caught you by the waist. “So you’ve been here for a while, I take.”

“Only like thirty minutes,” you mused, plopping back down onto the stool. Logan smirked and chugged down the beer placed in front of him. He was a certified drinker and the beer was basically water for the man. It felt good. He hadn’t drank much since coming to this new world - he was trying to be better but tonight, as he watched you mercilessly mocked Wade he felt like indulging. 

One night, would it be so bad?

“Logan, let’s take some shots.” You pulled him down next to you and he adjusted himself onto his seat, ignoring the way your hand on him made him feel. He needed more to drink if he was going to survive the night, so he ordered a round for the three of you. Then another and another…

“...is he always like that?”

You gazed up from the shot glass in your hand and followed the direction Logan was facing. Wade was caressing the pool stick in his hand as a failed attempt to distract the poor fella who agreed to a round. Laughing, you said yes and shrugged. “Wade is anything but boring. I like that about him.”

“How did you two get mixed up together?”

Logan felt more relaxed than when he first arrived two hours ago, his jacket was hanging off his chair and the sleeves to his dark henley were pulled up to his forearms. You tried not to stare too hard but you were only a woman. He was gorgeous and rough around the edges, defeat in his eyes but there was something more to the man next to you. 

“A friend introduced us, well, more like a frenemy of Wade’s. We’ve worked off and on for the last few years. He’s honestly, don’t tell him this, not that bad. Kind of annoying…”

Logan laughed, which surprised him more than you. His smile faded when the expression on your face turned into her. He felt ashamed, bashful, and he quickly ordered two more rounds. Sensing a shift, you changed the subject and asked if he had talked to Laura lately.

“She called the other day. Not sure I can give her what she wants…”

“Laura just needs support. People she can count on, friends,” you assured him. The rounds of tequila were brought over and Logan slid two shot glasses to you. You took one and lifted it up to him. “To Laura.”

Logan looked at you, eyes softened as his old heart beated faster than he cared for. Your hair was out of your face, eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol but there was something so different about you. Something the version of you he had loved didn’t have - happiness. You were just happy and satisfied with your life, and he couldn’t fathom it. Logan couldn’t understand how you could be so different from, well, you. There had been something so sad about the woman he loved, so melancholy. Always living for others but you, you sat next to him happy as a clam to be in some shitty little bar. With Wade accosting other customers, sitting next to a man you hardly knew but was so kind to. Logan felt sick to his stomach, guilty as hell because he wouldn't admit it. Too scared to admit that he was enjoying this version of you. Lighthearted and fun. 

You piece of shit, after all she had done for everyone. This is how you repay her? By drooling over another version of her? She died in your arms, you prick!

“Logan.”

Your voice was quietly sweet and he realized he had dazed off, immediately he pushed away all thoughts and chuckled. “To Laura.”

You grinned and clicked your glass against his before downing it. Then you toasted to Wade and Logan begrudgingly joined in for the second shot. Too much alcohol had circulated in your body now, your head felt lightheaded and suddenly, you were braver than you had ever been. Recognizing the song playing over the speakers, you casually suggested Logan take you out to dance. Logan snorted at such a suggestion, thinking you were messing with him but you just stared at him.

“You can’t be fucking serious!”

“Don’t cuss at me, Logan.”

Your tone felt very final but the smile on your face was light and in that moment, Logan couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He stood up from his stool, a cold stone expression on his face as he took your hand and cursed under his breath as he pulled you to the small dancing area across the room. He ignored the staring coming from Wade, who was still playing pool. Holding back a laugh, you allowed Logan to pull you to him, one arm around your waist, while the other held your hand. His body felt strong against yours yet his fingers were gentle, tender as they held you.  Your hand slipped up his back and Logan stilled for a single moment when your head rested against his shoulder before he relaxed. He led the dance, slow methodical steps but maybe it was the drinking that had you feeling dizzy and far too relaxed. Neither of you said a single word the entire song, Logan just held you in his arms and hated that he didn’t hate it. He could have gone all night on the dance floor with you against him, his hands on you. He didn’t mind it one bit and when the song ended, he felt disappointed in so many ways.

“Thanks for the dance, Logan,” you mused, patting him on the chest. His hands fell from your body and he couldn’t manage a smile. His eyes were glued to you as you mentioned you needed to use the restroom.His fingers slowly, painfully released you from his grip. You smiled at him and walked toward the bathrooms. Logan stood there as the next song played, something more upbeat and he could feel Wade’s annoying stare but he couldn’t take his eyes off where you stood. Back home, he never danced with you. You weren’t the dancing type, you had been far too busy to enjoy those sorts of things. This had been a first for him and tried so hard to picture the woman he loved in his arms but all he could see was you. 

“You’re so fucked.”

Logan snapped out of his thoughts and glared at Wade, who stood at his side. “Got the hots for the ghost of your girlfriend, huh?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulder and noted he knew more than he led on. “That cute little snapshot you have in your wallet? I gotta say, you have a type.”

“Don’t touch my shit again,” Logan warned him. He forgot about the photo in his wallet. Wade smirked and nodded to where you were coming from the bathrooms. 

“Your secret is safe with me…for now, asshole. Just letting you know, you break her heart and I break your small little dick, got it?”

Logan ignored the man and pushed him away as you walked up with a curious glance. Wade flipped him off and wandered back to the pool table. You asked what that was about and Logan said nothing. “Another round?”

“Hell no,” you laughed, bouncing on the heels of your feet. “I am hungry though…I know a really good burger place…”

Perfection. That’s what you were, that’s what this all felt like for Logan and he knew then, Wade was completely right - he was so fucked. Logan agreed, the two of you walked back to the counter for your things. He put on his jean jacket and you grabbed your bag, both of you agreeing to sneak out before Wade could follow. The night was cold but Logan felt nothing but a surge of warmth fall over his body as you walked alongside him. Talkative and a bit clumsy, so much so, he resigned his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t seem to mind and he didn’t either.

So the two of you walked on, disappearing into the night crowd of the city - Logan’s hand, warm on your back. 

...............

leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)

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@between-the-pages-ofa-book

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i feel like some of the fandom is a bit harsh on Monty... like, trauma is definitely not an excuse, but it does give pretty much all of his actions an understandable explanation?

like... Monty was actively being abused by Esther in practically any scene they were together. he said something she didn't like, and she yelled and grabbed him threateningly. both of the times she transformed him, from crow to human and then back again, she literally stabbed and ripped him up in a really gory way.

i sure wonder why an evil witch's familiar who's constantly treated like that would follow her orders even if he disagreed with them!!

and considering that Esther is potentially one of the only humans Monty came into contact with before meeting the others, and she's like that - he turned out alright, didn't he? he's petty, a bit rude sometimes, and takes things personally, but generally, he's a shockingly decent person.

yes, he didn't take it well when Edwin rejected him. but, as others have pointed out - how was Monty genuinely meant to know any better? he had lived his whole life as a crow in a cage too small for him, where the only person he knew was his extremely nasty and cruel owner. and then, all of a sudden, he's forced into a new body and has humanity thrust upon him against his will. he explicitly expressed this discomfort himself when Esther degraded him for getting "too emotional" for her liking.

"i never asked to be human. with all these... feelings."

even after the bitterness of the rejection, Monty never actually wanted to hurt the Dead Boy Detectives. turns out, he didn't even know that Esther's plan intended to end them completely, and was so horrified upon finding out that he made an attempt to lead them to safety, which was, by the way, putting himself at massive risk. Esther already punished him likely under the assumption that he just didn't put enough effort into manipulating them - can you imagine what she'd have done to him if she knew about his last-minute attempt to actually save them?

of course, i don't think Edwin was wrong for not forgiving Monty. he deserved that. Monty still helped in the scheme that aimed to destroy him. he also fully deserved to reject Monty if he wanted to (conversely, i do also see people say that Edwin "could have handled it better," but honestly, i don't know if it's just me not being neurotypical or something, but i genuinely do not see how Edwin could have been nicer about it? he was straightforward and polite, then afterwards, still tried to be Monty's friend until the betrayal.)

however, Monty was still very much a victim himself, and any harm he did was not from his own will, instead motivated by fear of the terrifying witch who had him fully reliant upon her, often through both verbal and physical force. Esther never hesitated to hurt him. he was painfully aware of that. she didn't care about him beyond how useful he could be. and when he failed at that, her reaction was violent.

but he didn't have anyone else.

[aspen-charminghearts]

Tw: Mentions of Child Abuse Imagine watching your mother kills people on the daily while she also emotionally (and likely psychically) abuses you. That was all that your childhood was, while you’re not allowed to have a single friend and the ones you did have, your mother orders killed. So your only form of companionship is your tutor is who much older than you and yet then you two are not exactly close friends because you simply can’t in this kind of world. One day though you get your ticket out and your murderous mom lets you go for some confusing reason but you’re so excited because for once your life won’t just be watching people die, your mom hurting you for not being what she wishes of you, and loneliness. It now could be companionship, life, and freedom. You’re almost there- then you realize your mom used you to ruin what was supposed to be your new life, and you’re there trying to stop her for once because this was your only hope and you just watch her stomp on it as you watch her say that your only use in life was being her key to invading a kingdom. But you didn’t want this, so for once you argue back but it’s useless and then this random woman you’re mom clearly despises comes up and challenges her but you’re just silently begging her to stop and leave because you can’t see anymore blood spilt, and then your mom puts her life in your hands. You can’t do it, you verbally now beg her to just freaking kneel because you don’t want to be the monster your mom is. But then she says you can’t do it, this woman who you were just begging to save herself says that you can’t be the one thing that will make yourself something good enough. So you do it, but you don’t feel any better because you know it’s wrong and you just can’t see another person die. The blood can’t be on your hands this time. But then you see that cheery girl you called annoying (annoyingly pretty that is, but you’re not gonna admit that out loud) from earlier yelling and screaming at you, you’re taking away someone else’s mom, a mom who actually is good enough that her kid is begging for her. You decide you have to fix this but you accidentally bring angry girl with you because she’s about to be stupid like her mom and you can’t see another person die. So back in time you go, you discover your mom was good, you fall in love with the girl, and you fix everything. You go back and it’s all amazing. But now everyone expects you to be this different version of you that you were not, because you weren’t the one who grew up with the sweet queen of hearts, had friends, and a normal life. You’re the messed up version who’s seen to much, and now you just.. have to figure it out. And your only help is the bubbly girl you fell for and you both just can’t ever tell another soul. Everyone’s depending in it.

That was Red’s life.

Sometimes I simply can’t forget how horrible and difficult things must’ve been for her. She’s stronger than most of us are. I don’t know how disney is going to have to deal with it in the next movie but I expect at least one year jerking scene or I will protest.

[blackmoonoracle]

BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...

PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS

P I L E O N E

Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:

“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”

There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.

Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.

The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.

I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.

I literally heard “reactive abuse”.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T W O

You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.

I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.

I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.

This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.

Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T H R E E

I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.

I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

if you’re looking for stevie requests can i suggest eddie having to come to terms with steve and reader getting married/announcing theyre expecting and seeing how good he treats her compared to how eddie treated her when they were together (eddie was a fuckboy.

Request by anon.

Angst and fluff. Happy ending for reader.

Steve Harrington x Reader/Past Eddie Munson x Reader.

I'm not going to lie, I flew through writing this. It was just what I needed (to write some angst and sweet Steve content) and the story just flowed out so fast.

❤️

Eddie didn't regret many things in life but losing you was the one that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

He should have treated you like a princess, instead he treated you like shit. It took a while for him to admit it, he strung you along and made you think his feelings were deeper than what they actually were.

In reality he was a typical fuckboy and messed around with your heart.

He was arrogant and cocky, assuming that you would never leave him. He dated other women and never gave a thought to how much it would hurt you.

Eddie assumed that he could come back and forth into your life when he felt like it, indulge in some great sex and then leave.

Then one day he decided to look you up while he was in town after being away for a little while.

Sometimes he travelled with Corroded Coffin doing gigs up and down the country, so when he ended back in Hawkins he figured he'd visit you and have some fun.

You can imagine his shock when he turned up at your house and Steve fucking Harrington answered the door, he was just in a towel and was smiling like the cat had got the cream.

"Harrington? What the fuck are you doing here?" Eddie snaps and there's a sinking feeling in his chest, a sense of knowing what's happening before anything is even said.

"Visiting my girl. What are you doing here Munson? If you're here for any booty call then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed" Eddie is silent for a moment and is about to speak when he hears you calling Steve's name.

You appear at the stairs beaming at Steve, the smile slips from your face when you meet Eddie's gaze.

"Back again huh? What's it been six months since I last heard from you Munson? I don't know what you think I am but I'm not an idiot...or maybe I was but not anymore. I'm with Steve and he treats me right, much better than you ever did. I suggest you leave"

He's stunned by your admission and looks to Steve who's gazing at you with complete love in his eyes. Shit...

The thing is the same love is mirrored in your eyes as you gaze back at Steve, the sight leaves Eddie feeling vaguely sick. He backs away from the door and practically high tails it away.

When he leaves Hawkins later that week, he's sure the next time he comes back this little fling of yours with Steve would be over.

Turns out he couldn't be more wrong.

❤️

Dustin is the one who tells him that you and Steve have gotten married. Steve has proposed on your one year anniversary and the two of you had gotten married in a small ceremony with just close friends and family.

To say it was like a punch to his gut was an understatement. By that time it had been almost a year and a half since Eddie had seen you and when he went back to Hawkins for his usual visit, he expected that you and Steve would be over.

He didn't expect you would be married.

It was hard to see you around town with Steve. You looked so happy and it was finally dawning on Eddie that he had lost something special.

A little while after the wedding you announced that you were pregnant. Uncle Wayne had passed on the news and gave Eddie a look of severe disappointment. Oh Wayne was delighted for you and Steve but he was pissed at Eddie and Eddie didn't blame him.

His uncle had warned him not to mess you around, that you could be special if Eddie just gave you a chance and stopped messing around.

Boy did Eddie regret not listening to the old man. Regretted every way that he had broken your heart and stomped on it and there was no way he could fix things or even hope to win you back.

Because Steve treated you right. Treated you a princess and doted on you. He made you smile and laugh instead of making you miserable.

It was Eddie's fault that he lost you and now he had to deal with the reality of that. You had truly moved on and Eddie was left with an aching heart.

If only he had treated you like a princess instead of treating you like a fool.

It turns out that he was the biggest fool of all for losing you.

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body        love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha��” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

[squad-724]

Crosshair’s first day in the Pabu Sea Sanctuary part 2

Part 1

Once again written by the amazing @pinetree-tbb

Crosshair did not realize that he let out quiet whines and high pitched whistles while asleep. He didn’t realize he was sobbing. All he knew was that he was in pain

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"You shouldn't have grabbed him so hard." Echo told his brother.

"Well, I couldn't just let him go over, you saw how hurt he is."

"He slammed right into the edge of the wall!"

"Not so loud!" Fives hissed "If he finds out we are here, he's probably never gonna rest!" The twins sat at the far end of the pond, hiding behind a few plants, looking to the stones where the eel mer burrowed himself under.

"All I'm saying is, that you could have been a bit gentler..."

"... sorry." From where they hid, they could hear the painful little whines from their new friend, Echo feeling a deep sorrow for him. "Come on, let's talk to the others." Fives chirped and with a few strokes of their tails they broke the water surface, Phee, Kix and Riyo already waiting.

"Hey boys" Phee greeted them and knelt down in the sand "He is still in the pool, right?" They nodded, sitting up in the water and Fives moved his hands to talk

'He burrowed himself under a pile of rocks at the bottom... He's hurt... very hurt.' The humans looked into the water.

"We have to get him to eat somehow..." Kix mumbled "He’s very thin, if he doesn't gain weight again soon, he will die of starvation and malnutrition. And I really don’t want to forcefully sedate him for an IV or feeding tube."

"I don't think he's gonna accept the food we provide, he seems very stubborn." Riyo noted.

"Idea." Echo's synthesizer suddenly voiced out. They all looked at him, he just smiled back and pushed the device again, which voiced out another "Idea."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Crosshair passed out after a while and fell into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke again he could smell something delicious. It was early morning, the sky only starting to brighten, and the eel mer tasted the water again. It was mostly tinged with the metallic scent of his own blood, but under it he smelled something different... something... tempting. A bit of sunlight shone through a tiny hole by the entrance of his burrow. He dug a bit of sand away to have a look at the outside of his hideout. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw that, at an arm's length away from where he was curled up, sat two fish wrapped together in seaweed and with a stone attached on top to weigh them down.

He felt a stabbing pain in his stomach, but resisted the urge to go out and take it. It was obviously a trap, in which the humans probably put something in to make him lose consciousness or strength to recapture him. So Crosshair only narrowed his eyes, put his ears back and withdrew, shoving the sand up to close the hole again.

After a while, he didn't know if it had been minutes or hours, the smell of fresh fish filled the water again and he looked up. There was a hole in the sand with daylight shining through it. Which was weird, he knew he covered the entrance fully. Someone must have made that hole, which means that he was not alone in the pool. Crosshair moved, hissing slightly as the pain rushed through his entire body with every motion, removed a handful of sand and peeked outside.

There was another pair of fish next to the ones before, the new ones floating much closer to his burrow than the previous ones, but he just shoved the sand back up. With the painful growls of his stomach he fell asleep to wake up when the sun was already setting. He did not feel any better after rest, no, his wounds felt like they were stinged by a jellyfish and then alcohol was rubbed on them. He felt so nauseous he would probably throw up if his stomach wasn’t empty already. When he was finally able to open his eyes he noticed that once again, there was a tiny hole in the entrance of his hideout under the rocks.

Crosshair dragged his body to the opening to look outside again and saw a third pair of fish, directly in front of him. He was hungry, very hungry. He did not know how long he hadn't been eating. But he won't even touch this. With a quick flick of his tail he pushed the fish away and covered the entrance again. He had to get out of here, he had to find his brothers, he had to make a plan... But his pain and hunger woudln’t let him think straight.

Crosshair hadn’t slept the whole night, feeling the agony of his sunburned back and sand filled cuts. The scent of freshly killed fish didn’t help either, tempting and baiting him. He let out a huff, he was so hungry… He put his cheek on the blissfully cold rocks and continued to drift in and out of consciousness.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"He still won't eat them." Crosshair shot up startled, eyes fixed on the entrance, when did someone get so close without him noticing?! He heard more clicking and whistling, two separate voices.

"He probably thinks it's poisoned or something."

"You think this is gonna work Echo?" The voices swam nearer and Crosshair pressed himself in the back of his hole, his burns and cuts stinging by the movement.

"I know it will," He saw a clawed finger stick through the entrance, leaving behind a little hole, the morning light shining through. Was it morning already? "Just give him time." After that, the voices disappeared, outside quiet once again. Crosshair peeked out again and sure there they were, directly before the hole. Two fish wrapped in seaweed, weighed down with a stone. He considered for a moment, but then turned his back and shoved the sand up again with his tail.

Part 3

[technicallyfriendly]

This is for my friend @godofstory, but I invite everyone to share their ideas and opinions in the comments or rebloggs whichever you prefer!

Hogwarts!AU, let's go! Before I start, however, I want to clarify that most of the adults in my headcanon work at the ministry. Only Daemon, Alys, Laena, and Viserys work at the school.

Daemon is the teacher for defence because i think it'd be really funny, the students are either afraid of him or absolutely in awe of him no in between. Alys is the potions professor who sometimes tries her newest concoctions on Daemon, who seems to have a strangely high immunity to poisons. Laena is the flight instructor and former professional quidditch player because I think it'd be cool, and Viserys is the headmaster who took over after he retired as minister of magic. Rhaenyra is the new minister of magic, obviously, and Otto is forever salty about being her under secretary because I like to see him suffer.

For house placement, I'm going with the idea of what each one valued the most at the time of sorting, similar to Canon Harry Potter and I'll start with the eldest, Aegon.

Aegon is sorted into Slytherin because he didn't want to disappoint anyone. It was kinda Targaryan tradition since Aegon the First himself was sorted into said house. He absolutely does not fit the type, but he tries. He really does. Politics is just so tedious, and there is just so much more fun to be had, like flying, for example. Why should he lead the house like his mother keeps telling him to when he could just become quidditch captain one day instead.

Helaena is sorted into Hufflepuff because she does not care one bit about her mother's expectations. She loves care of magical creatures and possesses all of Scamander's books (original and signed, of course). Sure, she has a gift for divination, but she hates it and rather spends her time in the forbidden forest, despite it being, well, forbidden, and she somehow despite never having witnessed anyone die managed to befriend the Thestrals.

Aemond, like Aegon, ended up in Slytherin, too, of course, which suits him much better than his older brother. He idolises his defence professor, uncle, and former Auror Daemon Targaryan and has a slight crush on Alys Rivers, the potion professor. Though nothing trumps his obsession with his nephew, who, in a bout of accidental magic, took out his eye. Aemond himself was not completely blameless in the incident, having forced his nephew into a corner, but that knowledge does not cool his anger one bit. Though, is it really hatred that motivates his obsession? Or is it an emotion of a much more possessive nature? Whatever it is, Aemond certainly is not ready to explore it further as of now.

Jace and Baela both got sorted into Gryffindor. They and Rhaena started their time at Hogwarts at the same time, and as best friends were over joyed to be in the same house. Both brave and bold, benefiting leaders they would turn out to be some day. Unfortunately, the gossipers of wizard high society took this in Jace's case as another confirmation of his status as a bastard son, but they were silenced over time as Jace rose through the student roster and even became head boy of Hogwarts later on. Baela took after her mother and made her name as the best quidditch captain the house of Gryffindor has ever seen. Though, she did not only have a talent for quidditch but also for duelling, and she often demonstrated that skill to defend her girlfriend Helaena from bullies. Cementing quickly that messing with her would be a certain mistake. Jace himself, much to his own consternation, fell for Slytherin's seeker, who turned out to be quite different from all the mean-spirited rumours spread about him.

Rhaena was sorted, surprising absolutely no one, into Ravenclaw. While quiet and unassuming, she would one day shock everyone and become Head girl of Hogwarts. Eventually graduating with the highest honour starting a career under Unspeakable Jeyne Arryn herself. Despite her not being the troublemaker her siblings and cousins turned out to be, she was quite adept with spell work, and people out to bully her learned their lesson rather quickly.

Daeron, much like Rhaena being an often forgotten child in the mix of the Targaryan and Valeryon children, was also sorted into Ravenclaw. He even rose to the position of Ravenclaw quidditch captain and would have turned out to be the Baela's greatest obstacle in winning the inter-house quidditch cup if it wasn't for Aegon being a surprisingly competent seeker for house Slytherin.

Lucerys valuing loyalty the most gets sorted into Hufflepuff. This just pours more gasoline onto the already burning rumour mill until they witness him first throw down with his uncle Aemond, who is trying to make Lucerys' life at Hogwarts difficult. Their monthly spats become one of Hogwarts' greatest entertainments for the next few years until Aemond graduates. That is until Daemon, of all people, catches them making out in a broom closet. Not that their fights subside, but now they often end in the privacy of the Room of Requirements after Daemon got sick of trying to kill Aemond every time he caught them.

Joffrey, much like his eldest brother, would later get sorted into Gryffindor, while Aegon the Third, Viserys the Second and little Visenya would get sorted into Slytherin to cause havoc long after their elder siblings had graduated.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Book Report: Royal Audience

Welcome to another semi-recurring feature, where I read the royal books so you don’t have to.

A new royal book has recently been published. This one I found at my library in the “new books”/“this just in” section.

It’s about the Special Relationship between the US and the UK, focusing mainly on The Queen’s relationship with the POTUS.

There’s a lot of history and international politics discussed, but I found it an easy, enjoyable read. I do wish the photographs had been in color instead of black and white so it’d be easier to see the details, which are often discussed in the text. One thing that quickly became clear while reading is that of the men whom are considered The Queen’s favorites, the only thing they all have in common is that they gave attention to and supported the whole family at-large, like hosting Charles or Anne, being friendly with Margaret, giving opportunities for Philip to visit solo, etc. The POTUSes that just gave attention to The Queen and Philip weren’t as successful as nurturing the Special Relationship.

So without further ado, anecdotes about The Queen’s Presidents:

Hoover: The Queen never formally met him “in office,” but she sat next to him at dinner once in the ‘50s.

Wilson: The Queen never met him but he did visit George V at Windsor Castle (the first POTUS invited to Windsor) and that visit set the tone for many of the POTUSes’ visits to The Queen.

FDR: Another POTUS that The Queen never met, but her parents did. George VI and the Queen Mother were the first reigning monarchs to visit the US in 1939 and it was a smashing success. While the Americans have always had an affinity for the BRF, it was this tour (in which FDR and Eleanor served the royals their first hot dogs) that cemented how much Americans supported, or would show up for, the royals if/when they came to visit:

As the Washington Post once wrote, “She’s not our queen but before we’re through with her, she’ll probably think she is” and as Obama once quipped to Charles: “it’s fair to say that the American people are quite fond of the royal family…they like them much better than they like their own politicians.”

Truman was POTUS when Elizabeth and Philip had their first official tour of the US in October 1951 as Duchess and Duke of Edinburgh. The trip, conducted as part of a visit to Canada, was delayed due to King George’s lung surgery and resulted in Elizabeth and Philip taking the BRF’s first international flight. Apparently everyone was so nervous about the flight that the Royal Navy deployed battleships every 700 nautical miles across the Atlantic just in case. By taking the flight, the royals were only a week behind schedule and they sailed home with 97 pieces of luggage.

Eisenhower: the Eisenhower were considered family friends by the royals. He remains the only POTUS to be invited to Balmoral and Elizabeth sent him her personal recipe for drop scones which - yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus - is published in the book, for all you home bakers. The Queen made her first state visit to the US under Eisenhower coinciding with the 350th anniversary of the Jamestown Colony (a trip Her Majesty would repeat 50 years later for the 400th anniversary and made me late to school but that’s another story for later). This state visit is what finally knocked Sputnik off the American front pages.

Kennedy: If you watched the Kennedy episodes of The Crown’s Season 2, you can skip this chapter. Kennedy once met a young Princess Elizabeth though, when his father was the US ambassador.

Johnson: The Queen never met Johnson in person. LBJ didn’t like traveling and preferred to focus on domestic affairs and Vietnam. But Princess Margaret did meet LBJ while on a visit to the US, which is also chronicled on The Crown, which the author takes great pains to mention is fiction because Margaret and LBJ never actually did kiss 🙄. LBJ and The Queen were friendly in letters though.

Nixon: hosted The Queen’s very first Thanksgiving dinner when he visited London in November 1958 (while Eisenhower’s VP) to open the American Memorial Chapel at St. Paul’s Cathedral. The Queen’s acceptance of the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner caused such a consternation because Nixon hadn’t lacked a tuxedo that all the men in the American delegation who had traveled with him and worked at the embassy were measured to find someone from whom Nixon could borrow a tuxedo. Nixon’s visit to Buckingham Palace in February 1969 was the first time that color film was used at the palace.

Ford: hosted The Queen and Philip during the US’s bicentennial celebrations. It is considered to be one of The Queen’s most successful visits/tours. The tour was in July 1976 and if you know East Coast summer weather, you have an idea already what the weather was like. First there were rough seas that made even Philip seasick (they flew from London to Bermuda, then sailed on Britannia from Bermuda to Philly). Then there was humid muggy heat in Philly that The Queen was fanning herself often. And then in DC, it was even swampier with daytime temps of 100F in the shade. The bicentennial visit later became the theme of The Queen’s 1976 Christmas message - reconciliation.

Carter: Carter was the POTUS most considered to be The Queen’s peer since they were closest in age, and that’s about the only thing they had in common. He horribly offended The Queen Mother by kissing her at the G7, hosted Princess Anne on her first solo trip to the US (wherein she shocked the press by being more like Philip in her temperament than The Queen), and personally lobbied Westminster Abbey to include his favorite poet - Dylan Thomas - in Poets Corner. His wife, Rosalyn, is the only FLOTUS The Queen didn’t meet.

Reagan: After Eisenhower, probably the POTUS The Queen was closest to, over their shared love of horses. Their relationship reminds me of the classic “introvert adopted by extroverts” trope (albeit in its own unique way). The Reagans’ first trip to the UK was chaotic in its planning with offenses left and right that made Margaret Thatcher reel. Charles and Nancy had a wonderful relationship and were close for the rest of her life.

Bush 41: Bush (another peer who of similar demographics to The Queen; they were just a few years apart in age, he served in WW2 with a career that reminded her of Philip’s, each had four surviving children, their eldest sons were relatively the same age) was favorite POTUS #3 after Eisenhower and Reagan. The relationship started off rocky, but it was Pickles - a puppy from the Bushes’ dog given to a friend whom The Queen had visited - that smoothed everything over and the two couples got along well. The Queen’s official visit under Bush 41 began with the infamous ‘talking hat’ speech and saw her take in her first baseball game. It was proposed that Philip should throw the first pitch out but The Queen nixed it, though she did join Bush for a little walkabout on the field before the game started. (Boo. I would’ve rather liked to see Philip throw the first pitch. I bet he’d have thrown a strike without any practice.)

Clinton: Clinton prioritized the relationship with Blair more than with The Queen, which ended up salvaging the Special Relationship after Blair’s predecessor (John Major) practically blew it up by getting involved in the 1992 POTUS election when he/his government campaigned for Bush. But Clinton came around to The Queen in the end. Clinton is notably the first president who was younger than The Queen and I suspect his presidency marked a change in how The Queen approached the special relationship.

And also, there’s a very good chance that this chapter illustrates Meghan’s obsession with Hillary Clinton - Diana and Hillary had a good enough friendship, even if only a working relationship, that Diana co-chaired a White House breakfast with Hillary. The book also points out that much of Diana’s post-BRF work in the US took place in the Clinton administration, so now I’m wondering if perhaps Meghan sees the Clintons as a partial extension of Diana’s network and that’s why she tries so hard with Hillary. (And also there’s the obvious that Hillary knew/met Diana so maybe Meghan has been trying to court Hillary to be part of the “Meghan is just like Diana” fan club.)

Bush 43: had the first official full state visit of The Queen’s reign, which was also only the second state visit by a US President (Wilson in 1918). There were significant security concerns due to the War on Terror and this is also when the Daily Mail’s reporter was a footman for 2 months; the reporter broke his own cover to report on the state visit. The Queen had her final state visit to the US in May 2007 as part of the celebrations for the 400th anniversary of Jamestown. (Her visit was the unofficial kickoff to the official celebrations, which began the week after.)

I didn’t know this, but The Queen personally donated a significant sum to the 9/11 memorial funds. Also The Queen enjoys Mexican food. A lady after my own heart!

Obama: Obama’s relationship with Britain began cool, owing to family tragedy closely connected with British colonialism in Kenya. He and the PM at the time, Brown, didn’t seem to get on, but The Queen stepped in and it’s thought her gentleness with the Obamas is what softened Obama’s consideration of the British. I do believe that Obama was the first head of state to see The Queen as more a grandmotherly figure and that helped boost The Queen’s global reputation (Bush 43 and Clinton saw her as motherly, and everyone through Bush 41 saw her as a contemporary/peer).

In the epilogue, the author writes that he believes Obama was favorite POTUS #4. I think the Obamas had a special friendship with The Queen, but sometimes I feel like it was more of mentorship, with The Queen showing them a generous kindness they weren’t expecting that led to both of them learning from her what it means to be diplomatic without losing sense of themselves.

Trump: His working visit in 2018 and the state visit in 2019 both were preceded by chaos and politics. A lot of people looked to The Queen’s symbolism in her outfits for how she felt about him. Trump held The Queen in high esteem, which she seemed to reciprocate diplomatically, but he had waffling views on Britain itself and that seemed to affect how the Special Relationship was managed (ie one day they were allies, the next day, Trump was assailing the mayor of London on Twitter).

Biden: No one quite knew what to do with him. He had proud Irish heritage so everyone thought he wouldn’t regard Britain well, but at the same time, Biden was outspoken against Brexit and Boris Johnson, which aligned with mainstream feelings of the day, so they weren’t sure how the wind was going to blow. But the Special Relationship prevailed, with Biden in a unique position that saw him speaking more about the generosity and the humanity of The Queen given what was happening to her - first the COVID protocols, then Oprah interview, then Philip’s passing, then her own illness.

(Biden is in the “Queen as motherly” club with Clinton and Bush 43.)