hazellovesnuts

[hazellovesnuts]

6 Months In Advance

summary: In the midst of sorting out a scheduling mishap, your daughter wanders away from you and makes her way up to HR.

pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Reader + Reader’s Daughter

warning(s): idek; mentions doctor? Scoliosis?

a/n: dude, I didn't revise this at all. Just brain vomit.

Six months.

That’s how far in advance you had planned for this appointment.

It was written in your planner, saved as a reminder on your phone, and circled in red ink on the calendar hanging in your cubicle. Yet, with barely an hour to spare, you found yourself in the main lobby of Kineros Robotics instead; demanding to speak with the men you worked for. The same men who were responsible for fucking up your work schedule and threatening to fire you on the spot if you didn’t come in.

You frowned, pacing as you checked the time anxiously. They couldn’t possibly fire you for a mistake on their behalf. You were more than 99% positive that you had taken this day off as soon as you were given the job. Hell, you had even mentioned it to them before an offer letter was—well—offered!

“Mommy?” Your daughter whispered, interrupting your thoughts with curiosity twinkling in her eyes. She took in the large building that seemed never-ending.

“Yes, sweet pea?” You replied gently (certain to make sure the stress you emitted wouldn’t be absorbed by your own innocent offspring).

“Where are we?” Her doe eyes were far too busy scanning the environment to pay any attention to you—causing you to let out a chuckle.

“At my job. I just need to talk to some friends really quick then we’ll be on our way.”

She nodded, accepting your words, and stared in astonishment at how different the world inside this building looked to her. It was nothing like the world in your cramped apartment. That world was far too small to compare, but her favorite stuffed animals resided there—so it was home. The building was nothing like the one where you dropped her off at to learn her ABC’s either. It was full of big people and not enough kids. Peering at the environment, her heart sunk at the sudden revelation—this place didn’t even have toys!

Despite how impressive this adult world was, it would never impress her more than recess.  

“Uh…why are you here? And why aren’t you two at the doctor’s?” Your coworker (and only friend) asked after spotting you. Their shoes tapped faintly against the floor as they walked closer; holding their arms out to retrieve the bundled-up 5-year-old perched on your hip.

You looked at them with stress evident on your face, “Jeff and Mutt messed up the timesheet.”

They gasped, now holding the child securely against their own hip, “You’re joking.”

“If I were joking, I wouldn’t be standing right here, now would I?” You scoffed at the reality of your situation as your friend shook their head.

“The nerve of those two. On today of all days!”

You nodded, rubbing at your face. Before being granted the chance to respond, the receptionist informed you that Jeff and Mutt were ready to speak with you.

“Thanks, Marcy.” You replied politely and went to grab your daughter before your friend swatted your hand away. Your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You’re stressing enough. Just go talk to them. I’ll keep Willow safe and show her around since she seems so… intrigued.”

You both looked at your daughter, who was still eyeing every little detail of the building and chuckled.

“Fine. I’ll come to find you guys when I’m done.” You quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to Willow’s cheek before scurrying to go see Jeff and Mutt.

Watching you disappear into the elevator, Willow was carried away from the main lobby. As time passed, she met many unfamiliar faces. Most of which slid peppermints into her small hands when y/f/n wasn’t looking, in the hopes of befriending the tiny human. After seeing most of the people on the first floor, Willow grew curious about what other adventures the building held.

Perhaps the top floors weren’t meant for children. Maybe goblins stomped all around guarding their treasures. Or maybe they were full of queens and kings, and the workers were the peasants! As her imagination grew wilder, Willow found herself itching to explore. Squirming in the uncomfortable office chair, she pouted at y/f/n.

“What’s wrong?” They asked, noticing how much your daughter was fidgeting.

“I have to potty.” Willow whined, coming up with the perfect excuse.

They blinked, “Oh, um. Okay... do you remember where the bathroom is at?”

Willow nodded and slid off the chair.

“When you’re done, come right back. I’ll be here waiting, okay?”

Again, Willow nodded before darting off. After passing the bathroom and sneaking past Marcy, Willow made her way onto the elevator. She grinned, pulling out a peppermint and shoving it into her mouth, before slamming her hand against one of the highest numbers. Willow giggled, enjoying the feeling of the elevator moving. It felt like she was on a rollercoaster, and it made her tummy feel funny. Maybe this place was better than recess!

Hearing a ding, the elevator doors opened, and out stepped Willow; instantly bumping into a pair of long legs. With a small, “oof!” her hands managed to grasp onto some fabric. A hesitant hand pressed against her back to keep her balance. Out of curiosity, Willow glanced to the side to see a cane, then glanced up as a woman dressed in purple stared down in slight shock.

“And who are you?”

Willow blinked, gently letting go of the stranger’s skirt, and adjusting her lavender glasses. Tilting her head, she observed as much of the woman as she could. Since the woman wore purple, Willow figured she must be the queen. Purple was for royalty, after all. However, Willow wasn’t naïve. Not all queens are good, she reminded herself.

“I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

Wilhemina arched an eyebrow, smoothing down her skirt, “Neither should I. Yet here we are.” Huffing to herself, she looked around at her trembling assistant and the empty floor before shaking her head. “Follow me.”

As the queen, and trembling girl of whom Willow assumed to be her servant, began to walk away, Willow remained still; unsure of if she should follow the stranger. Noticing the only footsteps that could be heard were her own, Wilhemina halted and glanced back at the frozen child.

“Are you hard of hearing?”

Willow gnawed at her lip nervously and asked innocently, “…are you taking me to the dungeon?”

“Dun- Excuse me?” Wilhemina asked, more confused than she already was.

“You’re the queen, right?”

Wilhemina’s shock wore off and she chuckled, recognizing how wild the child’s imagination was. “Well, that’s one way to put it. Unfortunately, I don’t get paid enough to own a dungeon…yet. Now, come along before I abandon you in this hallway.” Scurrying after them, Willow grinned happily.

-

Standing in the stranger’s office, Willow looked up at the tall woman as she entered the room. “Do you have candy?”

Venable walked past the child and sat in her chair, “Even if I did, would your parents let you have it this early in the morning?”

Willow shrugged, “I only have one mommy.”

Venable took note of this; Mentally scanning through the employees in her head to guess whom this child could belong to. “Well, would your mother let you?”

Willow paused in thought, “No?”

“Alright then.”

-

As time passed, Wilhemina allowed Willow to get settled until her mother showed up to retrieve her. Alerts were sent out to inform the staff of a misplaced entity with two missing front teeth, now in her possession. Now, all Wilhemina had to do was wait for the culprit to show up at her office door. However, this was taking longer than Venable thought it would and the minor was oddly quiet. Especially considering she didn’t have any objects to keep children tame.

The anxiety of not knowing what the child was doing caused Venable to peer over her purple laptop and observe the little germ sitting on her lovely lavender couch (a fine touch and new addition to her workspace). She wasn’t used to the unpredictability of children. However, to her surprise, the little girl was already staring at her with a crossword book open on her petite lap. Venable furrowed her eyebrows as the curly-haired child adjusted her purple glasses back onto the bridge of her small nose. This little stunt warmed her heart to no end, yet she’d never admit it.

“Can I help you with something?” Venable asked, finally breaking the awkward silence.

The little girl shrugged and continued to stare.

Lowering her glasses, she sighed. “I’m assuming your mother has yet to teach you that staring is rude.”

“I wouldn’t stare if you were not pretty.” Willow stated plainly.

Venable tensed and cleared her throat. “You know nothing about what society sees as pretty.”

Willow frowned, “I don’t know who so-so-“

“Society.”

“-socility-“

“Try again. So-cie-ty.” Venable stated, slowing down her enunciation.

“-socie…um.” Willow tried.

“Take your time.”

“…s-society?”

“Correct.” Venable held back a smile. Willow didn’t. She was proud of her accomplishment. A new word she could tell her friends about.

“I don’t know who…society is, but I think you’re pretty.”

“Well.” Venable began, choosing to keep her insecurities to herself. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Mommy says you don’t have to always say thank you when people tell you nice things.”

“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” Venable questioned, becoming more invested in the conversation than she would like to admit.

“No.” Willow stated bluntly.

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Venable arched an eyebrow, trying to piece together who the child’s mother could be.

“Ms. Benavle?”

Venable internally cringed from the mispronunciation. “Yes, child?”

Willow shifted, turning her body towards the awaiting woman, “What does society mean?”

-

Minutes continued to pass as Venable watched over the child. At first, she assumed the little brat was a prodigy, highlighting words at lightning speed in the crossword book. Then, after watching the page become consumed in purple highlighter, her assumptions were tossed out of the window. The child merely enjoyed coloring.

A slight knock caught her attention, breaking her out of the trance she was in. Perhaps it was the child’s mother.

“Come in,” Wilhemina called out, watching in disappointment as her intern opened the door.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Venable. Um, I just had a f-few more questions about the t-time off requests you wanted me to finish-“

Now standing from her desk and approaching the intern as if she were prey, Venable sneered.

“I understand that you are mediocre at best and the tasks assigned to you may be tedious—however—I can assure you that it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to complete them. Now, as you can see, I am with child.” Her hand barely outstretched to point towards Willow, “Go be stupid somewhere else. Preferably on the first floor.”

As the intern scurried out of the office, Willow grimaced and crossed her arms at the tall lady. Venable glanced in her direction and arched an eyebrow, “What?”

“You shouldn’t say bad words.”

With a scoff, Wilhemina retreated back to her desk, “Last I checked, I didn’t.”

“Yuhuh, you just did.”

As her ungloved fingers rubbed at the throbbing temple, she hoped to rid herself of the headache that resided in her head and on the couch across from her.

“And what word was it, exactly?”

Willow blinked; eyes widening in surprise. “You’re letting me say it? Mommy said I shouldn’t say it.”

This caused Venable to snort in amusement. After catching her reaction, she cleared her throat. How odd. “How else will I know what I’ve said unless you tell me?”

Looking around, in case it was a trap, Willow swiftly ran up to Venable, stood on her tippy toes to reach her ear, and whispered, “…stupid.”

Wilhemina closed her eyes for a moment, trying to comprehend how she managed to end up in a situation such as this.

-

As the clock neared Venable’s first break and the child remained in her ownership, she sighed.

“Tell me something, little one.”

Venable’s sudden conversation caught Willow’s attention, causing her to perk up in curiosity.

“Why exactly are you here?”

Willow shrugged and looked down at her hands, “I don’t know. I was going to see the doctor, but mommy came here.”

Wilhemina hummed to herself, trying to piece together why the child had been roaming the building unattended. “An appointment, you say?” She looked through her emails, feeling a hint of deja vu. Something about this was vaguely familiar.

“Yes. I get a new brace today!” This caused Venable to arch an eyebrow, “Hopefully it’s purple like this one! Want to see?” Venable remained silent as the child began to unzip her bubble coat. As she shimmied it off of her petite shoulders, the back brace came into view, launching Venable into a state of paralyzation. “See? It’s very pretty.”

She knew this felt familiar. This was Willow. As HR, Venable was well aware of the subordinates and their beneficiaries. She was also aware of any time off requests submitted. Within the past year, Kineros had onboarded so many new faces that she ignored or denied at least 70% of the time off requests within the first week. It was either you work or you find another place to pay your bills. However, some of the accruing requests must have slipped through her fingers. Something she rarely ever fell victim to. Especially after reading something as detailed as Willow’s mother’s.

“Hello? Ms. Benavle?”

Wilhemina blinked; hearing Willow capture her attention once more. She quickly searched through her files and found the denied time-off request. The only issue was, she didn’t remember denying it. Clicking on the document, it slowly brought up the pdf, showing that it had been stamped with her credentials; meaning she didn’t formally sign it.

Her intern did.

“Shit!” She groaned.

Willow gasped, “Bad word!”

Ignoring her and standing from the chair, Venable quickly made her way toward the door. “Follow me.”

Willow quickly grabbed her coat and followed along, “Where are we going?”

Walking with intention as her cane collided firmly with the floor, Wilhemina pressed the elevator button, “To find your mother.”

-

As the elevator opened to the ground floor and Venable stood with a cane in one hand and Willow’s hand in the other, they both descended into the lobby. You and your friend scurried around, panicking at the fact that there was a lost five-year-old in the building. “How in the hell did you lose her?!”

“She’s sneaky!” your friend retorted.

“She’s five!” you fumed.

Venable arched an eyebrow and held Willow close, before clearing her throat.

 Your friend gasped, seeing Willow with Venable, as did you.

“Oh God, Willow! Baby, where were you??” You worried, as she ran over to you and gave you a hug. Rubbing her back, you sighed in relief.

“With me.” Venable interrupted, “May I have a word with you, y/n?”

You nodded, picking Willow up in your arms, and walked away with Venable.

“I am beyond sorry for everything that’s happened. I swear, this will never happen again, Ms. Venable.”

“Why not?” Venable inquired.

You paused, unsure of how to continue—so she did. “This, no matter how unusual it was, was entirely my fault.” You remained silent and equally dumbfounded. “I extend an apology to both you and Willow. It seems my stupid-“ Willow glared causing Venable to clear her throat, “My incompetent intern did not know better and denied your request. I remembered it. Not that it matters, as it’s potentially too late. However, I understand how difficult it is to get an appointment for these kinds of things. If you would like… I have a doctor who would be more than ecstatic to treat Willow as soon as possible.”

You remained silent. At a complete loss for words.

“As fond as I am of silence, I believe a conversation must include two willing parties.”

Willow nudged you, helping you come back to your senses as Venable awaited a response. “I… I’d love that. However, I’d prefer it now… Um, they informed me that since I’m refusing to work today, this is grounds for termination.”

“Nonsense,” Venable stated, completely unphased. “I will have a word with those two imbeciles, and you needn’t worry about a thing.”

You nodded with a slight blush adorning your cheeks as Willow squirmed from your arms and made her way over to Venable, hugging her legs, “I’ll miss you Ms. Benavle.”

With a chuckle, Wilhemina caressed the child’s head. “I will miss you as well, Willow.” Sliding a piece of peppermint out of her pocket, she handed it to Willow with the whisper of a smile adorning her lips. “Come back and visit whenever.”

[hazellovesnuts]

18. Masturbation ~ Wilhemina Venable (nsfw)

I've been in outpost three for five weeks and four days now, and I'm terribly crushing on the strict and scary outpost leader, Wilhemina Venable. I always get aroused when I'm in the same room as her, my thighs quivering upon hearing her cane tapping against the floor. And the way she mindlessly caresses the handle of her cane while she eats or talks makes me squirm. I thought about touching myself, but I'm really scared of being caught and punished. I mean, I don't even know if masturbation is against the rules, but I'm not taking any chances.

In the past few days, I've tried multiple times to pleasure myself, but the moment I'd hear any sound or no sounds at all, I would chicken out. I even thought about asking Ms. Venable if it's allowed to pleasure yourself, but I haven't worked up the courage to actually do it.

Currently, there's a gathering in the music room, in which Ms. Venable informs us about the development of our situation, which is non-existent. At the end of the meeting, I'm basically a puddle, because I've observed everything Ms. Venable did in the past thirty minutes intensely. I doubt that I can stand up straight right now, the sexual frustration too much for me to handle.

A while after everyone left, I slowly make my way towards Ms. Venable's office, knocking gently, once I'm there. I enter after hearing a stern 'come in'. Opening the door, I see her sitting in her chair, looking up from an opened file. I swallow and gather all of my courage. "I-I only have a quick questi-"

"Close the door and sit! We are civilized here," she interrupts me, and I do as told, my thoughts running wild, already planning the quickest escape route in my head. "Now what is your question?" Ms. Venable asks and looks at me expectantly. I swallow the lump in my throat and lower my eyes. "I-It's nothing important…I-I should go," I say and make a move to get up, but she is faster, standing behind me and pushing me back down into the armchair.

"Now, you already wasted my time, so you might as well ask what you came here to ask," Ms. Venable almost purrs into my ear, causing me to whimper quietly, clenching my thighs. Her gloved left hand rests on my neck, and my breathing quickens as goosebumps erupt on my skin. "Ask your question, Ms. l/n!" Ms. Venable orders strictly, digging her fingers into the skin of my neck.

"Is masturbation against your rules?" I blurt out.

After realizing what I just said, I place my hand in front of my mouth and panic, ready to run. But Ms. Venable pushes me back into the seat. "Yes, it is indeed. Why, have you already broken this rule?" she questions, her voice laced with both honey and venom as she walks in front of me, towering over me.

"N-no, of course not...but I wanted to," I mumble the last part.

"And why would you like to pleasure yourself, hmm? What makes you so desperate to touch yourself, Ms. l/n?"

I shake my head and try to get away again, but Ms. Venable places her left hand in the middle of my chest and keeps me in place. "Answer me!" she demands, but I shake my head again. "I said ANSWER ME!" Ms. Venable says and grips my chin with her left hand.

"YOU!" My eyes widen in horror as soon as the word left my mouth.

"I beg your pardon?" Ms. Venable says, narrowing her eyes and coming dangerously close to my face. I close my eyes, readying myself for any sort of punishment, but instead she walks behind me again and whispers into my ear. "Say it again."

I moan quietly and rub my thighs together.

"You," I whisper.

"Elaborate on that, Ms. l/n." I gasp as her fingers start to dance over my neck. "Come on, Ms. l/n. Don't be shy now," she says.

"I-I can't get you out of m-my head. Y-your presence in a room is so captivating, and every little thing you do excites me. I-I can't help it."

"Hmm...you have my authorization," she whispers into my ear.

"What?" I ask confused.

"You may pleasure yourself," she purrs against my neck and I shudder. I move to get up, but she keeps me in place. "Here and now, Ms. l/n. And only in my presence so I can supervise," she says, her voice dropping an octave at the last word.

My eyes widen as she leans against her desk, looking at me with her piercing brown eyes. I hesitate but decide that I'm way too desperate to deny myself an orgasm, even if it has to happen in front of her. I lift my skirt and slip my hand into my underwear, moaning softly at the wetness it encounters there. I run my middle finger gently over my clit, twitching slightly.

Then I look at Ms. Venable, staring into her eyes as I circle my clit faster, moaning louder. Sliding a finger inside myself, I close my eyes and imagine the woman who's standing in front of me doing these things to me. I add another finger and start to massage my breast over my dress. In a matter of a few minutes, I'm a moaning mess, pulling my fingers out of me to rub my sensitive clit in fast, tight circles. It doesn't take much longer for me to tumble over the edge, moaning Ms. Venable's name during my climax.

I open my eyes and see Ms. Venable staring at me with flushed cheeks. She clears her throat as she notices that I've opened my eyes. "Leave now," the older woman says hoarsely, and I rush towards the door, exiting the room and basically running to my own room. Once there, I smile lightly as I remember the events from just a few minutes ago.

Tonight at dinner, I can't help but notice that Ms. Venable is looking into my direction more often now than before, making me blush whenever she catches me staring at her. At the end of dinner, my underwear is completely soaked again, after watching Ms. Venable play with the handle of her cane more than usual. I get up and rush to my room, taking a quick cold shower and lying down on top my bed completely naked.

Suddenly, the door opens, and I quickly pull the covers over my body, looking startled at Ms. Venable, who's standing at the entrance of my room, her eyes wide as she takes in my appearance. She then locks the door and walks towards me, her cane clacking against the floor, which makes me shiver.

Ms. Venable comes closer and towers over me. "I want you to touch yourself again, Ms. l/n," she says, and my eyes widen.

"W-why do you w-"

"Don't question me, just do as I say!" Ms. Venable demands, sitting down on the chair next to my bed. I comply and slide my hand under the covers and between my legs, being surprised at how aroused I already am. "Let me see you," Ms. Venable says hoarsely, and I hesitantly push the covers off my body, exposing my naked body to her eyes. Goosebumps erupt on my skin as her eyes roam my body. "Go on," she says as her eyes meet mine again, and I obey.

This becomes a habit throughout the next few weeks. Ms. Venable would visit me after dinner or call me to her office, and I would pleasure myself in front of her. Today, she insisted that I come to her office. I knock and enter after I'm given the permission to do so. Ms. Venable is sitting in one of the armchairs, which are close to the fireplace, and gestures for me to take a seat in the armchair across from her and I do so. She tells me to undress, and I comply without hesitation, because I've already become accustomed to the way this goes once I'm with her.

Once I'm completely bare, I spread my legs to give her a good view and start touching myself, moans and her name rolling off my tongue in no time. After a few minutes, I speed up my movements as I feel myself getting closer to release, but then Ms. Venable says something unexpected. "Stop." I whimper but do as told while looking into her dark eyes.

"Come here," she says in a calm but demanding tone. I hesitantly get up and walk over to her, watching as she leans her cane against the side of the armchair. Once I'm in her reach, she pulls me on top of her and grins at my shocked expression. Ms. Venable takes in my body and grabs my hips with her gloved hands, the coldness of the black fingerless leather gloves and the warmth of her fingertips send shivers down my spine, and I can't help but moan quietly.

She smirks as her hands move upwards and cup my breasts gently.

"Oh God, Ms. Venable," I groan as she plays with my nipples.

"Hmm...do you like that, y/n?" she asks, the smirk still plastered on her face.

"Y-yes," I stutter.

"Yes, what?" she asks, pinching one nipple lightly.

"Y-yes, Ms. Venable," I reply, trying to keep my hips from moving against her, but I fail as she tugs lightly on my hard buds, and I buck my hips slightly against her.

Ms. Venable stops and pulls me down, connecting our lips in a hungry kiss. She pulls me closer, pressing my body tightly against hers, and bites my bottom lip, causing me to moan into her mouth. Then she slides her right hand down my body and slips it between my thighs. "Hmm...so wet for me," she purrs into my ear, and I shiver. Her finger grazes my clit, and I almost jerk in her lap. She chuckles darkly before entering me with two fingers. I moan and grip the backrest of the armchair to stabilize myself as she thrusts into me. Once she starts to rub my sensitive clit with her thumb, I'm a goner. I groan her name and come all over her fingers, panting heavily as I try to come down from my high.

Ms. Venable smirks as she lifts her hand and sucks her digits clean, moaning quietly in the process. After I’ve calmed down a little, I look into Ms. Venable's piercing eyes and chew on my bottom lip. "What are you thinking about, y/n?" Ms. Venable asks, and I debate with myself whether I should ask her or not. But I decide to take my chance and just go for it.

"M-may I pleasure you too, Ms. Venable?" I whisper.

Ms. Venable raises her eyebrow, thinking about my request. "Kneel," she says eventually, and I obey immediately, getting off her lap and lowering myself to the floor. I look up at Ms. Venable as she lifts her skirt and spreads her legs. My eyes focus on her bare, glistening core, and I have to suppress a moan at this sight. "Go on then," she demands, and I move closer to her center, kissing her thighs, which tense under my lips, before I spread her legs a little further and explore her with my tongue.

Her hands grab my hair, pulling me closer against her center. I take the hint and run my tongue through her slit before focusing on her clit. She pulls my hair lightly as I suck the sensitive bud into my mouth, causing me to moan against her. Ms. Venable moans quietly and shifts her hips a little, giving me better access.

After a few minutes, I have her moaning my name as I enter her with two fingers, curling them just right to hit all the right spots within Ms. Venable, while still basically making out with her clit. It doesn't take much longer for her to tumble over the edge, practically growling my name and digging her fingers into my scalp. I lap up all of her juices and only stop when she pulls me up by my hair. Ms. Venable looks into my eyes, her dark brown eyes filled with lust and perhaps something else. She leans in and kisses me hungrily, grabbing my butt to pull me as close as possible.

The next few weeks, Ms. Venable and I have sex so many times that I lose count. But she never takes off her dress, only lifts it up to give me room to work. And I'm curious as to why she doesn't want me to see her upper half. So I decide to ask one time, which is a bad idea, because she shuts me out completely for a couple of days. I apologize every day, until Ms. Venable loses it. She breaks down right in front of me, and yells at me to stop apologizing. "It's not you, it's me! I'm a hideous, ugly, worthless monster, y/n!" she sobs, and I rush to her side, wrapping my arms around her. "You're not! You are the most wonderful, beautiful, and smart woman I have ever seen. You're not worthless, you are the most unique person, and you're worth more than all the treasures of the whole world." Tears gather in her eyes, and she shakes her head, so I pull her even closer and stroke her cheeks gently.

"I'm in love with you, Ms. Venable. And I'm the unworthy one here. You're so far out of my league that I'm surprised you even waste your time on me," I whisper. Ms. Venable's eyes widen at my statement.

"How can you be in love with someone like me?" she asks, her voice barely audible.

"You're special, and your personality just pulls me in. I can't really explain it," I tell her, and to my surprise, she hugs me and whispers words into my ear that I never thought I would hear her say.

"I think, I may be in love with you too."

Soon she opens up about her scoliosis and her insecurity that comes along with it. She eventually shows me her back, afraid that I might never look at her again. But I just tell her how beautiful she is while caressing her spine. Wilhemina tears up, and we cuddle the rest of the night, exchanging sweet words before we fall asleep in each other's arms.

[hazellovesnuts]

Your Mina (Wilhemina Venable x f!Reader)

Synopsis: The world has ended and not just due to the missiles. Your Mina is gone, the cold Ms Venable left in her place. If only you didn't still want her.

Words: 6.3k

Warnings: degradation kink, humiliation kink, mentions of possessiveness, mentions of exhibition, swearing, thigh riding, chocking, jealousy, BDSM themes, objectification

The end of the world hadn’t been what you were expecting. It hadn’t been a slow build to something, climate change not the cause. Missiles, as the news announced, felt so stark and impersonal in the face of the death they wrought. You hadn’t even had the chance to feel the fear or the loss or the anxiety before hands had clasped around your arms and you were being escorted into a massive SUV.

Kicking and screaming brought blank stares, no one bothering to step in. Tears were running down your face but you were hardly the only one. The missiles were on the way and you were just another person facing this overwhelming truth. The world was ending and you were being kidnapped.

You would never get the chance to kiss your girlfriend goodbye.

You were bundled underground, into some kind of bunker built for the rich and powerful. You tried, over and over again, to tell them that they had the wrong person. You weren’t rich. You weren’t powerful. You were nothing and no one.

In a room, questions unanswered, you were left to stew. Firelight licked up the walls, shadows dancing, putting you on edge. You saw no one else, alone, the silence uncaring as you screamed at them to let you go. When the screaming ran out, tears fell down your cheeks. It was beginning to sink in just how alone you truly were. There must be other people in whatever place it was, but your family was gone, your girlfriend, your friends, everyone you’d ever known. They were all gone and you remained.

It was a cruel mistake.

You sunk into a chair eventually, curling up in it. Time was moving but you couldn’t feel it, the numb feeling growing in your chest. Your life had changed and you weren’t sure you wanted it. You wanted your life back or to have perished with everyone you loved. Not whatever this was.

The tears stopped. The numb feeling grew. You stared into the fire, wondering when it would consume your body. At some point, you knew, it would.

You ignored the sound of approaching footsteps. Your chin rested on your knees, arms curled around bent legs, staring at the flames until they were all you could see. No one could make it better. Of that you were sure.

A sharp tap of a cane on the floor had you stiffening. Their cruelty knew no bounds. You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to let any more tears fall. They weren’t going to break you, no matter what this torture was. Maybe you had died and this was hell.

Another sharp tap of the cane so much closer and you half turned your head towards the sound. Your eyes scanned up from shoes hidden under a long dress, a dark cane held in pale hands. Your heart gave a small flutter. The further up, the more familiar the figure standing in the doorway was becoming.

Dark eyes were staring at you from a mask like face. Hair you’d once run your fingers through was pinned up. Lips you knew the taste of were pressed into a thin line. Your mouth grew dry.

“Mina,” you breathed, rising from your seat.

You couldn’t believe it. She was standing there, right in front of you, looking none the worse for wear. She was perfect. Your heart was thudding in your chest, loud in your ears, and she was right there. You could touch her, if you just reached out, because she. Was. Right. There.

“You will call me Ms Venable.” Her voice was so cold.

“But-“

Her hand shot out, open palm striking your skin. You gaped at her, the sting bringing tears to your eyes. She was staring at you, daring you to argue and you didn’t know what was happening. This wasn’t your Mina. Your hand trembled as you raised it, lightly touching the skin that bore her handprint.

“Yes Ms Venable,” you whispered, not even aware you were doing it.

Your eyes focused on your feet, your breathing shallow, the sting of her slap still echoing through your body. The end of the world had taken her from you, but not through death, through transformation. Pushing the tears back once again, you caught your lower lip between your teeth, biting down until the coppery tang of blood bloomed on your tongue.

“Welcome to Outpost Three,” Ms Venable said, and her voice was so familiar it hurt.

“Thank you,” you said.

“As a Purple you’ll be supplied a furnished suite,” she said.

Your eyes flashed up, purple meaning something more than whatever she was suggesting.

“Purple?” you asked.

“One of the elite.” Her voice practically purred and your entire body felt like a live wire, “come.”

You moved on shuffling feet, following behind her as she walked with such confidence. You had no idea when she’d been shown this place. She’d never spoken of it, never even hinted at something like it. All those years together and not once had this ever entered into your life. Until the end of the world.

The end of the world she knew about?

She explained the rules to you, your arms slowly tightening around your body. None of it felt real. None of it was reasonable. You’d stepped into a world where nothing made sense and nothing was okay. Your Mina was gone and yet was also standing right there.

Standing there but different. Your Mina would never wear black, purple the colour she wore at all times. You didn’t like it. She never wore her hair so pinned up, so severe. While you could appreciate how it showed off the long line of her neck and the cut of her jaw, the sway of her hair had been a constant in your life. At least the scent of lavender seemed to cling to her, not quite hidden. Yours gaze slid over her body, finding her more a stranger than was comfortable.

You stepped through the door she indicated into your suite, should brushing against hers. That familiar scent of lavender lingered in the air of the room. You breathed in deeply, eyes slipping closed for a moment, letting yourself imagine for a moment that the world hadn’t changed so drastically. You turned, looking at her, eyes sweeping over someone that once had been as familiar to you as your own reflection.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Which part?” Cruelty was the flavour of her voice.

“All of it. I mean, I know about the missiles but why am I here? I’m not anyone,” you asked.

For the first time, something in her eyes seemed to break apart and hastily be put back together again.

“You must have been important to someone in power,” she said, “if you find yourself so inconsequential.”

You looked at her, really looked at her. You’d woken that morning to her already having left the house. There was a vague memory of lips pressed to your forehead before rolling over. There’d been no note, not indication anything was going to be different. You’d slept last night with her warmth beside you, arms around you, breathing in time with one another. Now… now she was so far from the bed you’d once shared and you had no idea how to get back to it.

“I suppose so,” you replied, voice soft, letting her have the out she was looking for, “thank you, Ms Venable.”

She gave you a short nod before turning on her heels and walking away, the tap of her cane lingering long after she was gone.

The closing door was quiet and so was the sigh that passed over your lips. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The world had ended but Mina was still there with you. But different. Not your Mina. Ms Venable. Not the woman who would come home at the end of the day and slip into the bath with you, but something new. Someone you’d never known before.

You wandered through the suite. It was plush, expensive, nicer than the home you’d shared with Mina. You didn’t know what to do with it. The world had ended and you were living in luxury. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

In the large closet, purple stared back at you from every corner. You ran your fingers of the materials, finding that each item was beautiful. Each one was perfect. Someone had put a lot of thought into curating the wardrobe you were to have in the end days. You shook your head, not sure what to do with that information. None of it was making any sense to you.

You were slow to dress and by the time you found your way to the dining room, it looked as if you were the last to join them. Mina was sitting at the head of the table. You couldn’t look at her, not without a wound in your chest opening up again. You felt the weight of the other gazes on you, not looking up from the hands clasped in your lap.

One weighed heavier than the others.

You’d dressed carefully, in the dress you thought shed’d like the most on you. It was soft, delicate, almost romantic. You couldn’t bare facing her only to be met with disdain. It had been a message that you would do what she wished to please her.

You’d keep to whatever role she was placing you in. Just sharing the same space as her would have to be enough in your new reality. You could be perfect for her, if that’s what she needed from you. Even now, when she wasn’t your Mina, you’d still do whatever you could for her.

Thank god your therapist hadn’t survived the end of the world or she’d have a lot to say about that.

You kept your interactions with the other Purples to a minimum. You found them insipid at the best of times, and you craved the attention of only one person in the entire Outpost. Instead, you watched the way she terrorised them. She stalked the halls, doling out discipline as she saw fit, lurking in the shadows just to catch them breaking the rules. The joy she seemed to get from it seemed so different from the woman you’d known on the outside, and yet you’d seen glimmers of it sometimes. On her worst days, mostly.

You didn’t find it any less intriguing, though. You might have been willing to play along with her facade of being nothing but strangers, but you still noticed that left you with less of her attention than the others. It might have been bad attention, but at least it was attention. You craved it, like it was the air you breathed. Where once the weight of her gaze ws comforting and familiar, now it felt exciting in its scarceness.

And then there was Ms Mead. Her right hand, her confidant, her trusted advisor. A kernel of jealousy curled behind your ribs, hissing in your ears that you’d been replaced. That she didn’t need you anymore. That she didn’t want you.

So you decided to do something drastic if only to prove to yourself that you were still burrowed in her heart.

It was slow, not wanting her to catch on before you were ready. You took your time, inching towards the group of Purples day by day until you were sitting with their group, listening to them talk. No one questioned it, no one pointed out you’d spent months ignoring them, now seeking them out.

Gallant was the first to notice your sarcastic comments, muttered under your breath. Catching your eye whenever Coco said something, a shared smile, the sting of friendship was surprisingly painful after months kept to yourself. He would sit beside you, the two of you sharing barbs.

If Mina noticed the change, she didn’t show it.

So you amped it up. You whispered with Mallory in dark corners, you complimented Coco loudly, you shared smiles with Dinah. In short, you did all you could to show her she no longer had your attention either. That you’d moved on. That if she didn’t want you then you weren’t going to sit around waiting for her forever.

Her eyes began to trail you throughout the twisting halls of the outpost.

One more turn of the cog. Standing in your wardrobe, the handpicked clothes for you by the woman who knew you better than anyone, you considered each one with a critical eye. Yes, the one in the far corner, tucked away as if she hadn’t wanted you to find it. That was the one.

The lavender slip dress was silk, so soft against your skin. Clinging to your figure, a cowl neckline and slit up to your thigh, it was sexier than anything else you’d worn, nothing like the Victorian inspired fashion you’d grown used to. But she had left it for you and it felt like a challenge.

You pinned your hair up, not as sever as her, softer, more romantic. You looked in the mirror, doing your best to effect the wide eyed look of innocence you knew you’d need to sell the whole ideal. Give her something to ruin.

You waited, just long enough to know you would be the last to sit down to dinner. Not late, but on the cusp. Stepping into the dining room, it was like a slow wave, faces turning to you, only one looking less than pleased.

You took your usual seat beside Gallant, ignoring the one woman you were trying so hard for. Some eyes were still lingering on you, Coco to be exact, and she looked put out at your appearance.

“Nice dress,” Gallant said, leaning towards you but in the quiet room his voice carried.

“Thank you,” you said, smoothing one hand over your thighs, “I found it in my room and thought why not? No point wasting something so pretty.”

Your eyes looked past him, finding Ms Venable watching you. There was fire in her eyes and you didn’t fail to notice the way her fingers clenched on the head of her cane. With a small smile you turned your face away, looking down at the gelatinous cube on your plate. Hardly your favourite meal but given it was the only one in existence you’d take it.

Your dragged your eyes up again, Coco looking at you with a cocked head. You offered her a wink, smirking at her. It wasn’t so much a feeling as a shift in the atmosphere. A tap of the cane on the ground, your thighs clenching together.

The meal was as unsatisfying as ever. Well, the food was. The eyes that you kept drawing to yourself were not. Arching your back, your neck, letting your fingers trail over your collarbone, laughing softly in Gallant’s ear, letting your teeth sink into your lower lip. You were using all the tricks that had once worked on her. The tricks that also led to you pinned to the mattress moaning her name.

No one said you had to play fair.

Once the meal was over, you slid your arm through Gallant’s, letting your hips sway, not bothering to offer a parting look to the woman who still owned your heart. He escorted you into the library, the infernal song making you purse your lips.

“So tell me,” he murmured under the cover of Coco’s complaints, “who’s benefit is this little number for?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, smiling at him, letting him know you were lying.

“You do know sex is strictly forbidden,” he said.

“Who said anything about sex?” you laughed, “nothing wrong with being desired.”

“Did you really find this dress in your wardrobe?” he asked.

“Would you believe my answer if I said yes?”

“Not for a moment,” he replied, “but whoever it is, they’re going to find you hard to resist.”

You sat in the corner of the sofa closest to the fire. The light, flickering over your skin, would be temptation in itself. Gallant seated himself beside you, his eyes scanning over the room, most likely trying to ferret out which of the other Purples you were trying to seduce. The woman moving through the room, taking her position with her back to the fire, was ignored by him. You smiled down into your lap before looking up at her. The glare you received in return was nasty.

You only stayed long enough to not raise suspicions. You squeezed Gallant’s shoulder as you left, getting an indulgent smile in return. The air in your room was stale and yet it continued to hold notes of lavender, even so many months later. You sat on your bed, face turned towards the door.

She didn’t leave you waiting long.

The knock on your door was perfunctory. You were slow to rise, wanting her to wait. Pulling the door open you didn’t have the chance to say anything before a hand was curling around your throat and pushing back into the room. Your hand snapped up, fingers curling around the delicate wrist, but you didn’t try to pull it from you. The door closed quietly behind her.

“You have been making a spectacle of yourself,” she said, squeezing.

“And you’ve been enjoying the show,” you shot back, breathless and hoarse.

She snarled, throwing you back. You stumbled, doing your best not to trip over your own feet. She advanced, slow and steady, each tap of the cane making you lose a little more of your breath. Her eyes swept over your body, looking less than impressed with what she found.

“You think too highly of yourself and your little display,” she said.

You took a step into her personal space, feeling her familiar warmth wash over your exposed skin. Her eyes darted down your body again, lingering on your lips for a moment before meeting yours. You pulled those lips up into a smirk, leaning forward.

“And I think you look at me and remember exactly what I sound like when I orgasm on your tongue,” you murmured.

“Insolence,” she growled, “your base desires are nothing of my concern.”

“Once they were only your concern,” you said, stepping back from her, “but I suppose you’re right. Someone else might want that job now.”

“No one will ever have that job,” she hissed.

“Yes yes, I know. No unauthorised sexual intercourse,” you said, rolling your eyes, enjoying the hint of jealousy in her voice.

Your hand slowly skimmed up your body, lingering on one breast. Her eyes zeroed in on it, darkening in a way that felt familiar. You brushed a thumb over a hardening nipple, a little gasp your only response.

“That doesn’t stop me fantasising about you every night with my fingers knuckle deep inside my pussy.”

Her throat bobbled.

“I used to just remember how it was. You, me, our bed or our bath or our kitchen counter,” you said as you pinched your nipple through the silk of your dress, “but then I got creative. Rather than Mina I had Ms Venable. Disciplining me. Tying me up. Bruising me. Choking me. Degrading me. I found I rather liked those fantasies.”

“You disgust me,” she growled.

“Then why are you thinking about using me for your own pleasure?”

Her eyes darkened and you saw her jaw clench. You knew her, better than you knew yourself. She’d never been good at hiding what she wanted from you, especially when what she wanted was you. You made small noise in the back of your throat as you tugged on your nipple, eyes fluttering closed at the shot of pleasure to your core.

A hand curled around your throat again, forcing you backwards until your back hit the wall. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, rolling your nipple, her name a soft exhalation. Lips brushed the shell of your ear and the scent of lavender curled around you.

“You’re nothing but a dirty whore ruled by your own animal instincts,” she growled in your ear.

“Uh huh,” you hummed, her words lighting your blood on fire. She’d never been one for this before, when it was sweet and soft and full of reassurances. You were having fun exploring this side of her.

“Pathetic,” she snarled, “do you really think this will end well for you?”

“I think it’ll end well for you,” you all but gasped, “you know how good I am with my tongue.”

Her fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your back arched into your own touch, her warmth brushing against your bare skin. Your eyes opened, finding her watching you, teeth biting into her bottom lip. You lent into her hold, eyes focused on that lip, wanting to bite it until you tasted her blood.

“You want me to use you?” she hissed, “would that bring you pleasure?”

You nodded, watching her lips form the words. You could still remember what they felt like against your skin. They curled up into a cruel smirk.

“On your knees, slut.”

With the hand around your neck she forced you down. You looked up at her from under your lashes, tongue dragging along your lower lip. She let you go, stepping back. With careful movements she set her cane aside, sitting on the edge of your bed. She crooked a finger at you.

You crawled across the floor on hands and knees, practically panting at the thought of getting your mouth on her after so many months. She raised her foot, pressing it against your shoulder, holding you back, heel digging in painfully.

“You think you deserve to touch me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you said, not even having to think about, “name one person who knows your body better than me. Name someone who can make you feel as good as I can.”

“Whose to say I haven’t found someone here?” she asked. That same jealousy curled in your gut, whispering in your ear, telling you Ms Mead had replaced you. She didn’t need you.

“Let me prove it,” you begged, surprised by how much you needed it.

“And what have you done to earn the honour?” she asked, “you choose to debase yourself in front of me. You flaunt your body as if that will impress me. You associate with degenerates and air heads. You are nothing and you will never amount to more than nothing.”

“Please,” you breathed, “please let me do this for you.”

Her foot dropped from your shoulder. You crawled forward again, unhindered. You stopped between her feet, dragging your eyes up her body. She was staring down at you, those dark eyes unimpressed but so intent on you.

Your hands skimmed up her calves, finding bare skin under your fingers. You pushed her skirt up, admiring the line of her leg. Your brought your lips to her right leg, finally touching her soft skin, tongue darting out to taste her. So familiar and yet so different.

“Hurry this up,” she growled, “I have places to be.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you said, lips brushing her skin.

Her legs parted further, giving you room to continue your exploration up her legs. She was still watching you, hands resting on your comforter, eyes darkening as your fingers slid over her knees. Your nose skimmed along her inner thigh before your breath caught.

Mina had always splurged on nice lingerie. It had been one of those things you’d loved. Silk and lace and satin. Always in shades of purple. She seemed to get a kick out of each new one revealed to you, the way your eyes would widen before you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her. She planned it to perfection, each reveal making your head spin and desire pool between your legs.

If you’d considered the opportunity for lingerie in the Outpost, it was usually drawn from your imagination, your desire of what you’d like to see Mina in. In reality, you expected something functional, perfunctory, much like you’d found in your own wardrobe. Functional over aesthetic. Basic and simple, serving a purpose beyond stoking desire.

What you hadn’t expected was for her to forego underwear altogether.

Right there, easily accessible, her centre was glistening in the firelight. Fingers tangled in your hair, tugging until a sharp pain in your skull caught your attention. You tipped your head back, finding her staring at you.

“Problem?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her act of indifference might have worked better if you couldn’t see the effect you’d already had on her. Her fingers tightened in your hair again, pulling past the point of pleasure.

“No, Ms Venable,” you replied, lowering your eyes back to her pretty pussy.

The hand on the back of your head forced you forward, headfirst where she wanted you most.

“Then get to work. Prove to me you’re the best slut I have on offer.”

Your tongue darted out, licking through her folds. The fingers in your hair tightened again. You did it again, revelling in her taste. You’d missed it, more than you’d realised. You hummed, eyes closing as you treasured the moment, tongue delving deeper. You wanted her taste on your tongue forever.

When you ghosted over her clit her fingers clenched. You did it again, wanting to feel the pull. The sharp pain was making your legs feel like jelly. You hadn’t thought that would be something you liked, but then you hadn’t thought you’d like this new Mina before you’d met her. But she was fun, opening up a whole new world of exploration for you.

You let your lips wrap around it, slow to suck. She forced your head harder against her, grinding against you. Your tongue flicked out, determined to hear her moan. The sound of it haunted your dreams. You craved it. You yearned for it. It would fulfil your dreams.

She kept silent.

Your arms hooked around her thighs, keeping them open as you pressed closer in. Your tongue lapped at her, circling her bundle of nerves, feeling her hips rise to meet you. You hummed again, tongue thrusting into her. Her legs pressed in, ignoring your hold on them, contracting around your head.

“Fucking whore,” she hissed, “so desperate for me. It’s pitiful. You disgust me.”

You tried to plunge further in, wanting her to feel you. Your nose bumped against her clit. She forced your head forward, grinding against you, uncaring of how you might be feeling. Your tongue was working hard, thrusting into her, setting a pace that you weren’t sure you could keep up. You looked up, watching the way her face contorted in pleasure. Her lips fell open in a silent moan, eyes closing. You stroked at her internal walls.

“I’m sure I’m your favourite taste. You’d stay there on your knees all day if I’d let you lick at me like a desperate little whore. Would you service me whenever I asked?” You knew you would.

You pulled your tongue from within her, wrapping your lips around her clit. You prised your fingers from her thigh, replacing your tongue, pushing them in until you could curl them, finding the place within her you knew so well.

She moaned.

“Maybe I should take you with me to dinner, have you feed under the table, at my feet as you deserve. Or would you rather eat from me instead? Let the rest of them know what a desperate little slut you are.”

You pressed your thighs together. Your fingers were slow as they pumped inside her, stroking and curling, twisting in a way you’d found she’d liked so much so many months before when the world was still the one you knew. You were sucking on her clit, her fingers pressing you harder, grinding hard against your tongue. The thigh you still held was beginning to tremble and her words were becoming breathy.

“Or maybe I should have you laid out on the table, touching yourself through dinner, let everyone see the control I have over you. Debase yourself in front of them. Show your shame to them all. Remind them you’re nothing but a dirty whore who earned her place here with her body, not through worthwhile means.”

You whined. Her laugh was breathless, fingers in your hair tightening. you could feel your own arousal beginning to drip down your thigh, her words only spurring you on. You wanted all of it, everything she was describing. You wanted her claiming you in front of them. You wanted to debase yourself, her words controlling you, begging her for release for everyone to hear. She owned you, body and soul, and it had taken the end of the world for you to realise how true that was.

“Even Coco is more worthy of her spot here. All you have is your body. Nothing but an object for my pleasure.”

You stroked the spot within her you’d always been able to find in conjuncture with a sharp suck to her clit. Her head fell back, hips jumping forward. Her thighs were squeezing your head, hands forcing you against her. It was hard to breathe but it was unimportant to you, her rising pleasure all that mattered.

“Look best on your knees,” she panted, “desperate to please. Willing to debase yourself, making a spectacle of yourself, demeaning yourself. Think you can please me. Think I’ll like seeing you giving into your animalistic urges. So… So… pathetic.”

She groaned as her internal muscles clenched around your fingers. She was keeping you pinned against her pulsing core, riding your face as hard as she could. With your tongue tasting her, you wondered if she’d cum since the end of the world or if this was the first time in all those months.

Her breath was slow to even out. Your fingers slid from her, your tongue dragging over the skin of your palm to clean yourself up, not wanting to miss a drop of her.

She dragged you up, your knees screaming from being pressed against the stone ground for so long. She ignored your whimper, lips crashing against yours. Her tongue was in your mouth, almost lazy as she stole your breath, giving you what you’d been yearning for since entering the Outpost. It was like kissing your Mina again. Her other hand was pulling up your skirt, fingers skimming your skin, making you whine into her mouth.

With probing fingers she discovered you’d also forgone underwear, bare under her touch. She made a noise, drawing back from the kiss, a look of affected disgust crossing over her face. Her finger ghosted through your folds, lingering on your clit. Your breath froze in your lungs, hips stuttering towards her. She guided you down onto her still bare thigh, bare cunt against her skin.

She curled her lip, watching the way your lips sunk into your bottom lip. The feel of her against you was almost too much. Your hips rocked, a tiny movement that would have been unnoticeable if she hadn’t been watching you so intently.

Her hands grasped your hips, tight enough to leave bruises, keeping you still. You whined again, eyes begging her to let you move. You were dripping with need, her thigh already slick from your arousal. The curl of her lip was undercut by the gleam in her eye, self satisfied and interested in you.

“You disgust me,” she said, “nothing but your base urges motivating you.”

“Ms Venable,” you whined, “please.”

It was torture, being held like that, pressure on your clit but held still. Your breathing was erratic, need filling your veins. Her eyes swept over you, considering you, finding you wanting.

“Go on then,” she said, turning her eyes away from you as if she didn’t care, “rut like the animal you are.”

No matter how much disinterest she tried to affect, her hands were the ones guiding you against her thigh, tensing underneath you. Your head fell back, moaning loudly, wanting her to hear how much she still effected you. She was setting a tortuous pace, your clit slowly dragging over her skin. You were whimpering, trying to catch her eye again, wanting her to see how desperate you were.

Your hips rocked faster, harder, grinding down against her. She was slow to turn her gaze back to you, sweeping over your undulating body again. Her name mingled with pleas and thanks was all that fell from your lips. She snarled at you, only flooding you with more heat. You liked how she degraded you, even as she gave you the pleasure you were so desperate for.

Her fingers grasped your chin as your head began to tip back again, forcing you to look down at her. You moaned, staring in her eyes as your hips ground down, seeking out more pleasure. She growled, pressing her thigh up harder. You wanted to bury your fingers in her hair, feel the silky strands against your skin, pull the pins out so they’d tumble down her back. You wanted to kiss her deeply, burying your moans in her mouth. You wanted her to watch you come undone.

You made a small noise in the back of your throat, breathy and throaty, a half whine. Her eyes were watching you, lips pressed together, a flush high on her cheekbones, barely visible in the firelight. You were rocking against her, chasing your high, the spring tightening within you. Your fingers clenched around nothing, not knowing if you could touch her, muscles straining to the point of trembling.

“Aren’t you done yet?” she drawled.

Your breath caught, body tensing above her, your orgasm crashing into you. Wave after wave moved through you, her name sweet nectar on your tongue as you cried it. A smirk settled on her face, eyes practically smouldering, fingers tightening on your hips again. Your head fell forward, seeking out her lips.

She allowed you to kiss her, surprisingly soft. Her tongue stroked against yours and despite the fact your heart was still beating double time from your orgasm, heat stoked in your lower stomach again. You sunk your teeth into her lip, giving in to your impulse. A hand pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing you against her body. Soft supple curves pressed against yours, the rough fabric of her dress scraping your skin.

The kiss softened again, more reminiscent of times long since gone. You sighed into her mouth, hands finally landing on her shoulder, thumb brushing against her pulse point. With strength that had always surprised you, she lifted you from her thigh, laying you back on the bed. Her hands skimmed down your body, featherlight until you were thrumming under her fingers.

“I must admit,” she murmured against your lips, “I have missed you.”

“Really?” you asked, drawing back just far enough to see her properly.

“You are the owner of my heart, little one. Holding back from having you has been torture,” she said, fingers stroking through your hair, pulling leftover pins from it.

“Then why were you?” you asked, wondering how long you’d have your Mina back.

“Maintaining distance was necessary. I could smuggle you in but once here I couldn’t show any such favouritism. Not if I wished to remain in charge, unquestioned and complete,” she said, “and you made it so incredibly difficult, little one. I felt those beautiful eyes watching me, looking so lost and hurt. All I wanted was to take that hurt away.”

“I just didn’t understand how I’d lost you. The end of the world and you were there but you weren’t and I had no one.”

Her fingers were still running through your hair, comforting and soft. Her other arm curled around your waist, rolling until she was lying on the bed, holding you close. You rested your head on her shoulder, pressing yourself to her with a level of neediness you didn’t usually feel around her. After months without, you needed it more than you needed air.

“So now what?” you asked her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, lips brushing your hairline.

“We just had unauthorised sex,” you said, “am I going to be shot?”

“Of course not.” She stiffened and you could hear the horror in her voice, “I authorised it. I am the leader of Outpost Three, after all.”

“Yeah, that whole thing has definitely awoken something in me,” you said.

Her soft chuckle vibrated through her chest, passing into yours. You pressed closer, legs tangling together, uncaring of the arousal that still coated both of your skin. Her lips pressed to your forehead.

“I noticed, little one,” she said, “perhaps next time I’ll tie you up and tease you until you think you’re going mad.”

Your shaky exhalation earned you another kiss, soft and lingering, a promise for you to cash in.

“In public we shall remain as always. The leader and a Purple. Behind closed doors, we shall be us again,” she said, “if that’s agreeable to you?”

“I’ll take whatever I can get of you,” you replied, “you’re my world and I’ve missed you so much.”

Your name was sweet on her tongue, a soft sigh, a small smile. You lent up, kissing her until she was melting beneath your touch. You felt liquid, dreamlike, you hopes coming true right in front of you.

“I love you,” you muttered against her lips.

She rolled you, hovering above you, staring down with those dark eyes. Firelight danced across her skin and she’d never looked so beautiful to you.

“I love you too, little one,” she said, before kissing you once again.

[hazellovesnuts]

My favorite stories*The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

A few good stories I like very much, Part1:

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In the Black - Regulus Black survives his adventure in the cave and brings the locket to an unlikely ally: his estranged older brother. The ex-Death Eater strikes a bargain with Dumbledore, cooperation in exchange for his family’s safety. Sirius Black is faced with his toughest mission yet: managing Walburga and Orion Black—who, to his surprise and dismay, decide they rather enjoy having both of their sons back, and very quickly scheme to make this temporary family reunion permanent.

Or: the story of how one night completely changed the course of the war and Sirius’s life.

Black Mask - Christmas 1979—danger, secrets, lies and their shared history looms large over the Blacks’ first Yuletide season as a reunited family. While life as a fugitive proves bleaker (and more boring) than Regulus could have imagined, a botched espionage mission at Malfoy Manor draws Sirius deeper into the Black family web—and his cousin Narcissa’s social set.Meanwhile, Walburga hatches a daring scheme to restore her wild firstborn’s damaged reputation in the family—finding him a suitable bride—while Orion grapples with the past, and the high price his two sons have paid for his inaction.

The Black Sheep  - December, 1966. After a long time abroad, Alphard Black returns to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place for the dreaded annual Black Family Christmas party, and finds an unlikely kindred spirit in his seven-year-old nephew—in whom he already sees a spark needed to keep the family fire burning.

—————————–

A Matter of Priorities - The story of how Walburga and Lucretia Black insulted Tom Riddle! (😛 I adore this story) 

May, 1943. The entire school is afire with rumours about the mysterious attacks and their relation to the Chamber of Secrets, but Lucretia and Walburga Black have rather more important matters on their mind—such as skipping their dreadfully dull Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to smoke in the second-floor lavatory. If only that upstart Tom Riddle would stop trying to barge in.

Without Express Permission -  Regulus enters his father’s study during a game of hide and seek to look for Sirius, only to regret it when he gets caught by Orion. Set in 1966.

The Consequences of Our Actions -  Sirius is a very clever boy, but even the brightest seven-year-old will sometimes fail to think things through. He’s just going to use his father’s wand to cast a spell or two—what could possibly go wrong?

—————————–

This Most Absurd Predicament -   In which a father and son find themselves in a quite frankly ridiculous situation, with surprising results /  Sirius and Orion

The Best Medicine -  Nineteen-year-old governess Ida Knowles is at her wits’ end. Her eight-year-old charge, Sirius Black, is wilful and disobedient at the best of times, but when he falls ill with dragon pox, she is driven to the use of the only weapon in her arsenal - fetching his mother, Walburga Black, which leads her to a surprising conclusion…

The Dog Days of Summer - Our brand new fantastic beasts (there are a lot of animals in this story🦄)

Nine-year-old Sirius Black cannot understand why the rest of his family seems to dread their annual summer holiday to his grandfather’s Suffolk country estate. With it’s rolling meadows to run through, thick forest of jobberknowll-filled trees to climb and kennel full of crups to play with, to Sirius a visit to Noire House during the dog days of summer is the highlight of the year. But when Sirius’s idea for the perfect summer holiday souvenir goes awry, the consequences of his actions are more chaotic (and unexpected) than he’d thought possible…

A Midnight Vigil -  After a tedious evening at Malfoy Manor, Orion Black returns home to Grimmauld Place to be greeted by a most unexpected sight.

—————————–

Little Boy Lost - Sirius Black has made a troubling habit of sneaking out, exploring Muggle London, and turning his father’s hair gray early.Or: Five times Orion Black finds Sirius in Muggle London through the years (And one time he doesn’t).

Take Care -  Orion is home alone when his elder son falls ill.

—————————–

The Legacy -  Walburga Black prided herself on being a woman of excellent breeding, taste, and talent. Thirty and unmarried, she decides if she wasn’t fated for a husband and home, then she’d have glory instead. Pity her cousin didn’t see the brilliance of her plan for entering a tournament. But he was a stupid, silly, flirt anyways. He couldn’t duel his way out of a paper bag.

Actually this is the very first Orion/Walburga story I’ve read (at least the first english fic as I recall…but it was literally ages ago)…I think it deserves to be here. (But it’s very slowly updated and …🤷🏻‍♀️)

PS I wrote this post ages ago and then I lost count of other new stories so…keep in mind it’s only part 1. And now in times when everyone should stay at home (of course if they can ;)) I guess it’s the perfect time to post it. Most enjoyable reading.

[hazellovesnuts]

Book Peregrine: not having brothers must have saved you from having so many traumas.

Movie Peregrine: Oh no, I had brothers.

Book Peregrine: Huh? Then why don't they appear in the movie?

Movie Peregrine: because they died a long time ago.

Book Peregrine: Oh my birds, I'm so sorry.

Movie Peregrine: Don't worry, it's okay, I killed them. ��

[hazellovesnuts]

I will never reconcile myself to the fact that they cut Miss Peregrine blowing up a Hollow's head with a shotgun from the movie.

I really liked the first version of the Hollowgasts, it was much scarier than the version that was chosen for the movie.

[hazellovesnuts]

“Mother,” Regulus looked up, cutting into his steak, “have you perhaps discussed with The Dark Lord Sirius’ initiation into his ranks?”

“No—” Walburga started.

“It’s not necessary, Mother.” Sirius said, decisively, twisting his knife between his fingers.

“You shall not play with your cutlery,” Orion snapped, and Sirius barely spared him an arrogant, haughty glance.

“Well, you probably should. Lucius said—”

“Lucius is a skank,” Sirius hissed, his cutlery hitting the table with a clink, “and if you were not such an ignorant, ass-kissing wanker, you would know that too.”

“Language,” Walburga warned him, yet made no further comment.

“You should believe yourself lucky The Dark Lord wants you,” Regulus rolled his eyes at him, “because it is an honour that should not have been bestowed upon you. I, if I were you, would have accepted his proposition in a heartbeat.”

“He didn’t request you to join him because you’re not good enough to,” Sirius snickered, leaning on the two back legs of his chair.

“Stop this madness right now!” Orion said, through gritted teeth.

“That is false!” Regulus snapped, sitting up suddenly. “It is so because I am not old enough. And considering the fact that you associate with all of the halfbloods and the halfbreeds, you ought to—”

“Oh, because Snape’s a high almighty pureblood, is that so?” He asked, standing up too, much taller than his brother. “Or shall I mention Crouch, whose father’s openly against what you deem so noble?”

“That is enough!” Walburga exclaimed. “You are dismissed, both of you.”

“With pleasure.” Sirius pushed back his chair right as Regulus did, glaring daggers at his older brother.

Regulus stepped out of the dining room first, not before Sirius tripped him up, chuckling as he stumbled, redressed himself and scoffed at his older brother.

[hazellovesnuts]

I decided doing like a masterlist of fics from AO3 I like for myself, but thought maybe I should share it with y’all so here it goes.

ANGELIQUE BOUCHARD X READER

Fluff:

Midnight Sparks - fourth of July

Headcanons

Fluff Alphabet

Vampire Cover Up - blood, comfort, vampire!reader

Someone Cared For - comfort, Christmas

Birthday

Carnival and love - Collins!reader

Holiday Baking

After Work Cuddles

First Holiday - implied age gap

Quiet - Collins!reader

5 Moments You Offered her Kindness +1 When When She Offered The Same

Angst:

Perfect - happy ending, Collins!reader

I’ll Protect You - happy ending, Barnabas x Angelique, hurt/comfort

The Name of the Game - jealousy, insecurity, happy ending

Pain - light angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Mistakes - hurt/comfort, happy ending

Smut:

Cigarettes, Summoning Spell and… - mommy kink, top!Angelique

Time of the Season - mommy kink, sugarbaby!reader

Carolyn’s Birthday - top!Angelique

Anniversary - top!Angelique

Love Languages - top!Angelique, fluff

Family Dinner - top!Angelique

Series:

Uncaged - Collins!reader, hurt/comfort, light angst

The name of the game - Collins!reader, smut, fake dating, happy ending

Welcome Home - angst, Collins!reader, happy ending

[hazellovesnuts]

So long, farewell

Angelique Bouchard x fem!reader

Summary: When you are reborn as a Collins, Angelique faces a dilemma.

Warning(s): angst?

A/N: hi! Been a long time, now this one is long. Quite long. I absolutely loved writing it, specially the first bits. I’ve had the honour of getting help from @arewecoolio . You’re an absolute doll and I thank you dearly for helping me with this! Xx

Now if there are any spelling mistakes or such, please let me know and I will fix it!

Taglist: @escapetodreamworld

Through the dark corridors of the manor, a woman was walking with her head held high, despite being a maid. A bucket in hand. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floors, and the flush of the water brushing up against the sides of the bucket echoing throughout the corridors. Rounding the corner of the corridor, she lowered herself to the floor and began washing the surface beneath her. The French doors leading to the balcony in front of her open, letting in fresh air. Despite the cloudy sky, the sun shone through. Lighting up the room and the woman sitting on her knees on the floor. She looked up when she heard sounds coming from outside. She saw the Lord’s son and a woman. She felt a sudden fury arise inside of her. Just as soon as her anger had begun, another sound came, but from behind her. The woman looked behind her. It was you.

“Oh, I didn't know you were washing the floors in this wing of the manor, Angelique.”

Angelique didn't answer you and looked forward again. Only to see the two people on the balcony kiss. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to love her, and only her. Your eyes followed what she was looking at. You slowly lowered yourself to your knees next to Angelique. You saw the intense look in her eyes and the way her knuckles were turning white from the grip on the brush.

It wasn't a secret, at least not to you. You knew of her attraction to the Lord’s son. Perhaps you were the only one who’d noticed. The way she would look at him. In that way, you’d look at her. You knew it was wrong. A woman couldn't possibly love another woman. It was unheard of. It was dirty, and yet Angelique made you feel different. You dipped your brush in the bucket next to the older woman and began washing the floor by the French doors. Catching Angelique off guard.

“What are you doing?” she said. Her tone carried the intense look from her eyes. They were sharp. You almost wanted to run away and hide from the gaze—those dark eyes. You'd dream about them.

“Helping you.”

-

Angelique remembers you. She remembers how she wasn't supposed to fall in love with you in the end. It wasn't fully love. Barnabas was her love, yet she couldn't get you off her mind even after you were taken from her. She felt this possessiveness over you. You were innocent. You always looked at her. You never gossiped about men like the other maids did. You were burned into her memory. Your eyes, your face. Everything. Even after she’d cursed Barnabas, you seemed to know everything about her. It was as if you knew she was a witch, but that was ridiculous. No one knew.

When you died, Angelique felt another wave of rage arise from within. You died from an illness that wasn't treatable at the time. She did everything she could think of but nothing worked, and for the first time in her life Angelique felt as if she was failing someone. Of course, the feeling went away quickly. It wasn't like her to suddenly show mercy to her feelings. She wasn't a failure.

She was by your bedside when you passed. Seeing the life disappear from your eyes made Angelique feel strangely empty. Why, she couldn't understand. She didn't love you. Despite your confession to her just then, but then again you wouldn't leave her mind. After your death, she kept seeing you everywhere. Your scent kept following her. As time passed Angelique became more of what she was. Creating her own story of ancestors into the new world, you still followed her. She never thought you'd be reborn as a Collins and ruin her plans yet again.

-

“Oh, it is lovely to see you again.”

“It's nice to be able to come back, mum. I know that I said I would come back sooner, but with graduation taking up a lot of thought and time and then you know I just had to travel with my father,” you said with a smile. You looked up and looked into the eyes of your mother.

“You may look like me, but this spontaneous side of you certainly came from your father.” your mother said. Flicking the hair out of your eyes.

“I hardly know what you mean. I am pure innocence.” you grinned. “Is Carolyn in yet?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “As if she ever leaves her room. Now, I do have one more important thing to discuss with you. You see, we have a guest.”

“A guest? Is it someone I know?” You asked curiously as you walked up the stairs alongside your mother. The house seemed to look so much different from when you were here last. Or perhaps that was just the boarding school talking.

“No, you don’t but he is family. His name is Barnabas Collins, the third.” She said with an unweary tone. It confused you. Was this relative, not someone she liked? Then why were they here?

“Is everything alright mum? He isn’t dangerous is he?” You joked.

“Dangerous? Whatever do you mean?”

“You know, like a vampire or something.” You gestured with your fingers to your mouth. Creating fake fangs. The look of short horror in your mother’s eyes spoke differently to the joke. Not seeing the fun in it at all.

“Will you stop that at once? Behave yourself. Go and unpack your things in your room.” Your mother pointed in the direction of your room. You held your hands up in defence, grabbed ahold of your bags, and walked further up the stairs and down the corridor to the right. You walked further down the corridor and opened the door to your room. The chill hit you immediately like a slap in the face. It sent a shiver down your spine. With a breath, cold enough to see it echo out in the room, you stepped in and closed the door behind you.

This room could have used a duster. You walked over to the large windows and with a small struggle, you finally got them open. Walking back into the center of the room you started unpacking when you suddenly heard a loud banging from downstairs. You walked over to the window again, only to see a red car in the courtyard out front. It looked far too fancy to belong to your family but perhaps this was the relative your mother spoke of?

Leaving the clothing item in your hands on the bed, you walked out of the room and down the corridor again to see whoever it was that was banging an awful lot at the door. As you got closer to the main entrance and living room you heard voices. Looking around the corner from the top of the stairs you saw your mother with her back towards two people. A dark-haired man and a blond woman. The more you stretched out to see, the less room you had on the step.

Upon your noise from the stairs, Elizabeth turned around.

“Ah, Y/N, this is Barnabas.” She pointed to the man who then turned around. A small gasp left your lips. The man was pale like snow. A tall and strong figure and dark eyes. The woman behind him seemed frozen in her spot.

“Hi.” You said and waved as you walked down to stand next to your mother. Barnabas reached out a hand to shake yours. It was awfully cold and your mother seemed to notice your hesitation as you shook his hand, hence the nudge to your side.

“And this is Angelique. She owns Angelbay.” Elizabeth said with a tight lip. “Angelique, Barnabas, this is my oldest daughter Y/N.”

The woman walked forward and shook your hand. Her grip is tight. Her eyes were dark, but shining in a way that intrigued you. Her eyes looked like they were searching for something in yours, and she wouldn’t let go of your hand as you tried to pull away. Her grip only tightened.

“It’s uh, nice to meet you ms. Bouchard.” You said, sending a glance your mother’s way. Asking for help perhaps? But as you looked back at the woman in front of you, you felt that sudden feeling again. A feeling you couldn't quite explain. Not even if you tried to.

“You’re someone we haven’t seen around here before. Where have you been hiding this one, Liz?” Angelique turned to your mother and said. The movement with her head was almost doll-like. Despite turning her attention to your mother, she didn’t let go of your hand.

“She lives with her father in England. He shipped her off to boarding school.” Elizabeth said, her eyes finding Barnabas’s behind Angelique’s back.

“England? How unusual. Seems like such a waste to ship her so far away.” As she said the last part, her grip tightened even more. You hissed slightly as you felt the bones in your hand start to grind together. Finally tearing your hand away from her grip, you let out an awkward chuckle. Drying your now sweaty hand on your trousers. The woman in front of you looked almost offended as you rubbed your wrist with your other hand, but the expression was quickly changed to something else. As if she’d let her mask slip.

You heard your mother speak, but you didn't hear what she said. The woman in front of you was far too intriguing. She terrified you, but at the same time, there was just something about her that you couldn’t quite place.

Angelique couldn’t believe her eyes. Was this some kind of punishment sent from her ancestors? Sending you back to her, as a Collins? And as Elizabeth’s daughter out of all? As if she didn’t have enough trouble with Barnabas coming back. Her only love. You just had to be reborn. And you just had to choose to be reborn now. Like Barnabas, you hadn’t changed a bit. Despite being reincarnated again, and being born from another mother. Your eyes. Those same eyes that had told her the truth so many centuries ago. A truth she didn’t believe. Did you remember her like she remembered you? Was this some hideous trick of faith? Of course not. Angelique made her pathway to faith.

-

You’d imagined your life coming back to your mother’s would have been strange, but you hadn’t imagined this. Ever since that encounter on the stairs, not only had your mother been acting weirdly towards you, but so had this new relative of yours. Barnabas.

You’d heard of the story of David’s mother, Laura. It was heartbreaking to see the boy still walking around claiming he’d spoken to his mother. In some way, you could relate to losing a parent. After all these years, despite having your father, someone was missing. You would never mention it to your mother. She seemed to have enough on her plate, not only with just Carolyn.

This doctor. Julia Hoffman. Your mother spoke so highly of her. With sarcasm. Despite your mother’s information that Julia was sleeping off one of her hangovers, she still walked into the dining room with a glass in hand.

And this Vicky. She seemed sweet enough, but something wasn't right with her either. Barnabas seemed exceptionally taken by her. It was a little sweet, but it certainly wasn't what you expected.

Perhaps it was just because you were an outsider at the moment. You didn't truly know anyone. Sure, you knew your mother and your half-sister. Your uncle and his son, but did you genuinely know them? The real truth was no. As you walked through town, this wasn't something you could remember from when you were last here as a child. Your mother had told you of how Angelique had burned the Collins business to the ground with her own company. Angelbay. Despite the name, you had the feeling she was far from an angel.

As you weren't a child anymore and hardly needed supervision, you took a walk. Since nobody else seemed to be even the slightest interested in showing you around, you figured you’d do it yourself. You'd seen a bookstore, a record shop, and a small diner. Being this close to the sea would have been nice if it wasn't for the awful smell of fish the closer you got. You stood by a fence, looking out over the water. The sky was concealed away by the clouds.

“Don’t you have far more interesting things to do?”

A voice from behind you spoke. Startling you out of your trance. Looking behind you, you saw that same woman from earlier today. Although now she wasn’t wearing that skirt. She was wearing trousers.

“Oh, hello again ms. Bouchard. I was just taking a look around town.” You said, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze.

“Please, call me Angie. No need for such, formalities.” She said with a wide smile. Her tone was teasing as she spoke. She walked up the few steps and stood next to you, leaning up against the fence. Turning herself towards you.

“Of course, I was only being polite.” You said as an apology. Looking down at your hands. You felt so out of place here. It was as if you’d arrived in a whole different world. If Angelique noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“How are you liking the town so far? I’d expected Liz to show you around.” Angelique said, purely faking her enjoyment.

“It’s nice, I suppose. A bit different to what I’m used to. She was supposed to but something came up and here I am.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave a small smile to the woman in front of you.

“How about I give you a little tour then, hm? Finish off with some dinner?”

“Oh, Angie that’s real sweet of you but you’re obviously a very busy lady. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.” You tried to reason.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t have the time, and it is my responsibility on behalf of the town council to welcome new members to Collinsport,” Angelique said, her tone firm.

“Oh, alright then. Why not?” You said with a small smile and then followed her back down to the road.

-

You felt very uneasy with all the eyes staring at you and you were certain that it wasn’t because you were new in town but because of a certain blond sitting across the table from you.

“Would you like to leave?” She asked calmly. She seemed used to having so many eyes on her.

“What? No, of course not. I’m just not used to, you know.” You said, trying to gesture with your hands.

“Not used to having dinner with a woman, you mean,” Angelique said as she leaned back in her seat. Bringing the coffee cup up to her lips to hide her smirk.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that. This is great. You’re great. I just meant-“

“You think I’m great? My, completing me already? Darling, I’d thought I’d at least buy you dinner first.” Angelique‘s smirk only grew as she spoke. Despite this not being her original plan, she wouldn’t deny herself the fact that she was enjoying herself. You really hadn’t changed a bit. Even now, you still resolved to a blushing mess before her. She’d forgotten how much she had had you wrapped around her finger.

“Buy me dinner? You don’t need to do that. What I meant was all the staring.” You leaned in and whispered the last part to her. Trying not to let her teasing affect you. Angelique leaned in as well and didn’t look away from the eye contact she held with you.

“Oh, it’s no trouble, darling. It seems that they are just as interested in this new thing coming into our town as I am. It is not every day we have a newcomer.”

“You must be used to all the eyes on you all the time. I mean you’re practically famous!” You said popping a chip into your mouth with a small smile. Angelique let out a chuckle.

“I know how to do business right and so have the women in my family. I won’t stoop so low to not walk around without everyone’s respect. But not all like me, you know.” Angelique said, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Who?”

“Your mother for one.” She said. Her eyes suddenly sharpened when you looked down at your plate. Crying your fingers on the napkin in your lap before looking up again. Her eyes changed once again, as quickly as the wind.

“Half the time I’m sure my mother doesn’t even like me. You’re not special.” You said without even realising it.

“Not special am I? Now that’s a first. I must admit.” Angelique gasped. Enjoying the way you suddenly choked on your drink in realisation.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry Angelique. I didn’t mean it like that. Please believe me.” You almost begged. Angelique only hummed at you, with a small smirk on her lips as she paid the bill and walked out of the diner and stopped by her car.

“I apologise for what I said, Angie. Truly. You must know I didn’t mean it like that.” You said, hoping you hadn’t offended her.

“I know what you meant. I would have thought you and Liz were the best of friends.” She croaked her head to the side, watching you. Leaning up against the side of her car. Her skin shone in the darkness from the pale light of the streetlamp.

“Well, I suppose not. I feel like I hardly know anyone. Especially not that new relative that showed up all of a sudden according to Mum. Barnabas or whatever his name was.” You shrugged, not noticing how Angelique’s body language changed at the mention of his name. Her ears spiked and her body reacted to it like a drug.

“No?” She asked with fake curiosity. Crossing her arms.

“You met him. He is very strange, but sweet I suppose. They all stare at me, much like those people in there.” You pointed at the diner. “You’re the only one who hasn’t looked at me strangely, and I hardly know you.” You risked a glance at the older woman in front of you.

Angelique hummed again before replying. “Some people are special. Different from others. Some people who are different can only understand each other.”

As she spoke, you thought she talked about you. In reality, she spoke about someone else.

In the end, all you did was shrug your shoulders as a response to what she said. You looked up at the sky and sighed.

“I should probably be heading home, Mum’s probably worried sick already. It was nice meeting you under different circumstances, Angie. You’re not as bad as they say, or as my mother says. Thank you for today.” You gave the woman a smile to show your gratitude before turning slowly away to walk on the payment beside the diner.

“Where are you going, Y/N?”

It was the first time you’d heard her say your name. It sent a shiver through you. The way your name rolled on her tongue made it sound so different from when everyone else said it. You turned around in time to see her open the car door.

“Well?” She said with a raised eyebrow. “Are you getting in or what?”

“Oh, it isn’t necessary. I can walk-“

The glance she gave you was enough to make you shut up and walk those few steps towards her and get into her car. She closed the door and walked around the car and got in the driver's seat. As she turned on the engine, she gave you a wink.

Angelique might not have been entirely sure what she was doing with you. You didn’t remember her, and even though she remembered you and your confession of love to her on your deathbed, she didn’t need you. On the other side though, you were suddenly a way to get to him.

-

“And where have you been all day?”

You turned around and saw your mother leaning against the doorframe of her office. She must have heard you come in.

“Out. Seeing town, and making new friends.” You shrugged and turned to leave, but she grabbed your arm and pulled you inside. “What are you doing?” You asked, shrugging out of her hold.

“And out of all the people in town, you chose Angelique as your new ‘friend’?!” Your mother nearly shouted at you.

“What is your problem, mum? Honestly. There’s nothing wrong with her. She was being nice, and she showed me around town and then bought me dinner. That’s all. It’s not like you went with me.” You scoffed and walked over to the large window on the right. The one with the view down to town.

“Nothings wrong with her? She’s a-“

“A what mum?” You turned around, glaring at her. Daring her to continue her sentence. Elizabeth gave up, took a breath and walked up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Look Y/N, there are some people who are different. Some people do not wish us well, and Angelique is one of them. She ran the business to the ground and has continued to poke us out as strangers to this town. I’m only looking out for you, and you know I didn’t leave you to go out alone on purpose, but I certainly did not mean for you to go handholding with our enemy.”

“Enemy? What is this, seventh grade? She was nice to me mum. She didn’t look at me weirdly like you all do, and she for one seemed genuinely interested in spending time with me.” You turned around again and looked out the window. You felt your mum’s grip on your shoulders tighten.

“Please promise me that you’ll not meet up with Angelique again. She means only trouble.”

You let out a heavy sigh and unwillingly agreed. You didn’t listen to what your mum then later said. Something about rebuilding the Collins fish business. Your mind kept wandering back to the diner. To the day you spent with Angelique. To the way she kissed your cheek before you got out of the car. Purely innocent and done as a friendly gesture of course, but it left you feeling different each time you thought of it. Developing a schoolgirl crush on your family’s sworn enemy on the first day of meeting her surely was something. If not the wrong thing.

-

As time went on, you did your best to obey your mother’s order to stay out of Angelique’s way, but of course, rules are meant to be broken. Technically It wasn’t you, it was her. It was always her these days. You couldn’t get her off your mind. You’d seen her in town and always looked her away. Even unknowingly. Now that the family business was up and running again, it caused even more tension to grow between your family and Angelique herself.

You felt as if you were stuck in the middle of it all. She wasn’t all that bad, was she? She had only ever been kind to you. Your mother and Barnabas kept whispering in secret at times. You always wondered if it was about her. Angelique. He seemed to know her, which surprised you when he was visiting from England himself. And if you were to believe your mother saying it was the first time he was visiting, how could he possibly know her? You almost felt jealous. Not only by the attention he was given by your mum but by the attention given by Angelique.

It sounded ridiculous, you hardly knew Angelique. Sure, she had shown you around town and bought you dinner, but that was it and since your mother had forbidden you to meet her, It was quite impossible. But there was just something about her that caused your mind to wander. Daydreaming had never been something that had affected you, that was until now. She was everywhere in your thoughts.

“Y/N!”

You jumped as you heard someone bark your name. Turning to your side, finding your mother standing there with crossed arms and a rather disapproving look on her face.

“Eh, sorry. What do you say?” You cleared your throat and sat up straighter. Trying not to make it look like you were just caught daydreaming. Again.

“What on earth is going on with you? You’re hardly listening to me at all. And this isn’t the first time this has happened. What’s gotten your mind so occupied you can’t even think to listen to me when I speak to you?” Your mother barked at you. Staring at you intensely. You suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“Nothing mum. I promise. I just haven’t slept well, that’s all. I’m sorry.” You tried to reason. Hoping she’d fall for the bait and leave it alone.

“Perhaps you should see Julia.”

Now this surprised you.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m fine. I promise.” You said as you stood up and pushed the chair you’d been sitting in, in. “I think I’ll take a walk. You know, to clear my head.”

“This is about Angelique, isn’t it?”

You froze.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’ve been acting weirdly ever since I told you, you couldn’t see her again or under any circumstances talk to her.”

“I’ve been acting weirdly? Says the woman who’s been whispering in secret with this new relative who showed up out of the blue.” You sparked back at her. How dare she?

“Barnabas and I aren’t secretly whispering and he is as much a Collins as you are.”

She kept on going with her speech. Your mother was always wise when it came to words and at this moment, she seemed to favour him over you. So you left for that walk.

-

Summer was going away as the leaves were falling off the trees and the clouds coming back with rain every other minute. The air was damp but cool. Perfectly enough to help you cool down. You’d never been the one to raise your voice at your parents, but your mother seemed out of line these days.

As you walked alongside the shops, the wind was getting harsher. The clouds were getting darker too, and you could almost smell the incoming rain, but it didn’t bother you. You stepped into a coffee shop as the sky finally opened up. Just barely making it inside without getting drenched. You sat in a corner booth and drank your tea while watching the rain fall. Rather depressing, but given the circumstances it felt right. Perhaps the only right thing to do after a fight with your mother. It made you miss your father and your home.

“Is it just me, or are you always alone?”

A voice behind you spoke. You turned around and felt the air leave your lungs for just a second.

“Angelique.”

“So you do speak. I was almost certain your tongue had been cut off.” Angelique said as she sat down opposite you.

“Oh, no I haven’t been ignoring you if that’s what-“

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you’ve been doing, isn’t it? Did Mommy finally tell the tale to scare you away from me?”

“You know that’s not true Angie.” You tried to defend yourself. You knew it was useless as she had some right in what she was saying.

“Isn’t it? It wouldn’t surprise me. Liz has always seen me as the big bad wolf. I can leave if you’d like.” She said, halfway out of her seat.

“No! Please, don’t go.” You said, rather fast. If not too fast. And a bit louder than you would have liked. Angelique’s lips curled into a grin and sat back down again. Lightning a cigarette.

“So tell me, why the sudden silence? I thought we were friends.” She said as she blew out the smoke.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry. Truly.”

“Funny, I’m suddenly getting déjà vu from this conversation.”

You looked down at your hands. A small sense of guilt finally creeping up on you. You suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“How about we talk somewhere else, hm?”

You looked up and saw her staring at you rather intensely. With a small nod, you got up from your seat and followed her out in the rain. Knowing your mother would probably have a fit if she knew what you were doing right now. You got into her car and let her drive off to whatever place she had in mind.

That place being her house. It wasn’t what you had imagined when she’d offered to speak somewhere else. It was a house on a hill a little further away from town and of course, it was a big one. Despite the big house, it didn’t look as modern as you thought on the inside. Sure, marble floors in the hallway and a massive golden mirror, but it was elegant. Fitting for someone like Angelique. You suddenly felt even more out of place.

You nearly jumped as you felt someone come up behind you, only to remember it was Angelique herself. She’d pulled off your coat. With a hand on your lower back, she lead you into the house. The room on your left was the living room. A room with windows looking out over the town, much like the ones in your mother’s office. Two big white sofas surrounding a fireplace.

“You have a beautiful home,” you said as you looked around. Large paintings hanging on walls. On the other side of the room was a record player. You couldn't help but let curiosity get the better of you, and walked over. You peeked through all the records she had. Most of them being French. You should have guessed it. She did have a rather French name after all.

“Have a thing for music, do you?”

You turned around to see Angelique holding two glasses of wine and an amused expression on her face.

“Oh, I didn't mean to look through your things. I was just curious.”

Angelique nodded her head towards the sofa closest to the fireplace and sat down. You walked over and sat down next to her but at a distance. She handed you one of the glasses but you refused politely.

“What, you don’t drink?”

“I’ve never had alcohol before no. My father doesn’t really drink. Well, not unless it’s scotch.”

“Try it.”

You had a feeling she wasn’t going to give up so you did. It tasted bitter and you made a face as the liquid went down. A laugh arose from the older woman next to you before taking a sip of her own. “You’ll get used to the taste.” She said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the sofa. Basking in the warmth from the fireplace. You couldn’t help but stare at her. It wasn’t intentional but you couldn’t look away. Her pale skin shone in the light from the fire just as it had done with the light from the lamppost that night. You almost wanted to touch it.

Angelique knew you were staring. She had a sixth sense after all, but it felt just like it did all those centuries ago. Your eyes on her at every possible moment of the day. Something in her enjoyed it. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, the fact that some part of her had missed you. Never, but now that her last meeting with Barnabas hadn’t ended well, despite the lustful hour of what she would call love, she couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of having you on her side. What it could mean for her and Barnabas.

She opened her eyes again and caught you staring. You quickly looked away, a blush forming on your cheeks as you’d been caught. A small chuckle came from the woman next to you. Her chuckle was low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. Her gaze lingered on you, suddenly cloudy and intense as if she could see right through you. The room seemed to dim around you and the air thick with anticipation, as her hand slowly reached out to touch yours, igniting a forbidden desire within you. You looked down at where her hand suddenly grasped yours, tugging at it. Pulling you closer to her. Your knees suddenly touched hers. You looked up at Angelique again, only to realise how much closer she was. Letting out a gasp as a reaction.

“Don't be shy," she whispered, her voice smooth like velvet. “I don't bite. Well, not unless you want me to.”

The blush that had previously appeared on your cheeks crept up your throat once again. Angelique’s other arm was draped over the sofa’s back. A shiver went through you once more as you felt her fingers trace the skin of your wrist.

“Tell me, how are you getting along with this new relative of yours?”

“He’s nice I suppose. He taught me how to play chess. He’s been spending a lot of time with Vicky. They go down to the water quite a bit with David.” Your eyes had turned to the fireplace, so you didn’t notice the way Angelique’s eyes changed as you mentioned Vicky. She wasn’t going to be a problem much longer. How odd. You being reborn, and Josette too.

“How do you know him?” You asked. Turning back to her, unknowingly curling yourself more towards her. The question caught Angelique off guard. She hadn’t thought of a cover-up story for this.

“We met here in Collinsport. The same day when I met you.”

“Funny, you seemed to know each other, even back then.”

“Funny indeed.”

“I should probably go. It’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” You said, clearly sensing it had been the wrong thing to ask. As you got up, Angelique grabbed your hand. Her grip was just as tight as the day you met when she wouldn’t let go of your hand. It was giving you déja vu.

“Stay. Have another glass of wine. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Mommy doesn’t need to know where you are all the time.” As she spoke, she filled up your glass and handed it to you, tugging you down to sit.

-

You had shared a bottle. Or mostly, you had drank it. Angelique had had two glasses. It had left you woody, and more unaware of your surroundings than before. Leaving you prey to a predator named Angelique. As the evening went on and the more alcohol you consumed, the more you fell for her trap. Her small touches and her eyes looking you over. You were done for.

Your head was lying on her shoulder. Your body curled into hers as you comforted yourself in the warmth from the other woman. Her fingers were running through your hair. Your eyes were slipping shut and a pleasant hum left your lips. It was a moment someone would have called soft. Not Angelique of course. She wasn’t soft, but she always had a plan.

“Feeling tired, Y/N?”

You hummed in response. Wrapping your arm around her waist to hold onto her. Angelique chuckled to herself. She let you fall asleep curled into her. She hardly knew what time it was, and she didn’t care. The longer you stayed with her, the more of a riff there would be between you and Elizabeth. The more you would be on her side. Of course, it wasn’t because she enjoyed it. Having you so close to her. She was only using you to get to Barnabas. That was what this whole thing was about. Angelique had realised long ago that you didn’t remember anything from your past life, but her plan had always been to use you to get to him.

-

“I love you, Angelique.”

Angelique froze upon hearing those words fall from your lips. She refused to look you in the eye when she moved again. You grabbed her hand and begged her to look at you. Even on your deathbed, you needed to see her one last time. With her by your side, you could pass on peacefully. She didn’t say anything as she sat down. She let you hold her hand. She didn’t understand why you would say such a thing to her. She didn’t love you. She wasn’t sure she liked you. But from the moment you started, you’d been on her side. You had been able to read her like no one had before. Perhaps it was for the best that you were dying. Who knew what you would do if you found out she was a witch?

“I love you.”

She saw the life drain from your eyes. Those three words being the last you said, and the last you said to her left her with a strange feeling. Suddenly, something else was happening to her. She was feeling something other than hatred for Barnabas' denial. She was feeling empty. The anger was quickly coming back. She wouldn’t let the death of you come in her way. No matter how it made her feel.

-

The dream still haunted you. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a memory. Something that happened a long time again that you suddenly remembered, but that wasn’t possible. Was it?

It had been days. Everything was going into chaos. There hadn’t been any time to stop and think about it. Especially not now when the factory was burning up in flames. You’d been in your mother’s office as it happened. She wouldn’t let you leave her eyesight when she found out you’d spent the night at Angie’s. You didn’t remember it. You didn’t remember any of it. The only thing you remembered was that dream. Everything felt so different. Suddenly Julia was missing and nobody knew where she’d gone. Barnabas and Vicky had disappeared as well. You might not have grown up with your mother, but you knew she wasn’t doing well. Something was stressing her more than usual.

As you walked down the stairs to the front doors, you heard sirens. Your mother opened the doors and walked out. You walked out behind her and saw Angelique’s red car pull up alongside a police car. People from the town were gathering in the driveway.

It all went by so quickly as Barnabas suddenly walked out behind you. You’d walked closer to your mother as he suddenly grasped Angelique by the neck. The gasps from the people alongside your own as he bit into her neck echoed throughout your head. Your mother’s accusation of Angie being a witch as she suddenly threw Barnabas back into the house with ease. Her skin looked even paler as she turned around again after greeting the people behind her. It looked as if it was cracking. Like porcelain. A feeling of dread went through you. Perhaps your mother was right after all.

You’d followed your mother back into the house, standing behind her as she fired the shotgun. It all happened in the blink of an eye. The house catching on fire, Carolyn being a werewolf and Angelique making the house bleed. David’s mother’s ghost appeared and screamed Angelique up into the chandelier. Making it crash down into the ground. Your mother carried Carolyn out of the house, screaming for you and David to follow, but you couldn’t. Something in you couldn’t move. Instead, you ran to her.

“Angelique?” You said, your voice trembling with both fear and sorrow. For a reason, you couldn’t understand. That dream came rushing back to you. It wasn’t a dream, was it?

“Angelique, I remember where I’ve seen you before.” You said. You didn’t fully understand what you meant as you spoke, but the woman in front of you did. A glint of something other than pain flashed through her eyes. Her skin looked like a smashed porcelain doll. You looked behind you and saw Barnabas standing there. A scream of your name, coming from your mother made you move. Standing just by the door to see the life drain from Angelique’s eyes as she turned her head towards you.

Something in her was trying to tell you something just before it disappeared. It hit you like a slap in the face. A cry erupted from your lungs as the ceiling fell over Angelique. You almost ran in, had it not been for your mother’s arms dragging you away from the sight of your burning home. It had never been the house or your family. It had always been her. She was your love. Your true love.

[hazellovesnuts]

James: *seeing Orion and Walburga holding hands* why are they holding hands?

Sirius: you’re not going to believe this but they’re married, they’re my parents

James: ohhh sorry I got confused, I thought they were cousins

Sirius: you’re not gonna believe this

[hazellovesnuts]

EVA GREEN. Venice Film Festival.

[hazellovesnuts]

Sirius blinked once to steady himself from the minor sway Apparition always gives him. The grass was wet under his black leather shoes, and he glared at every droplet slowly coating it — as if sheer will (annoyance) might stop the light rain around him.

He could've summoned an umbrella and spelled himself dry, but being annoyed was slightly easier than doing all that.

He stopped at the sight before him, straightened his back, and held his head high. Immediately realizing what he did, he scowled and slouched even lower, glaring at the back of the person in front of him.

Five years after leaving Grimmauld, the sight of Walburga's perfect posture still drives him into the perfect heir mode.

"Summon an umbrella, you dog," Walburga chastised him, back still facing Sirius. She was completely dry, her right hand holding up a transparent umbrella sprouting out the tip of her wand.

Sirius snickered at the insult. He walked closer until she was standing a few feet beside her. He made a show of messily kicking the mud off his shoes at Walburga's direction. Not that it reached her, invisible full-body umbrella and all.

"Half-witted canine."

Sirius smiled wider. "Hello to you too, mother dear."

They stood side by side in silence, breathing in the smell of wet soil of the fresh grave below their feet.

"I have a question," Sirius, for the first time in years, turned his whole body to look at the person who raised him fully. Arms crossed on his chest, he lazily pointed at the sky and asked, "Why does it always rain when someone gets buried? Isn't it a bit... y'know?"

"Finish your sentence, boy." Walburga replied, still not looking at her son. She flicked her wand very slightly, the faint glimmer of her magic reflected on the top of Sirius's head.

Sirius kept his eyes on that wand and reached for his own. He scoffed at the thought of this person starting... things here, of all places, just because he did not finish a sentence.

"Well?" Walburga asked.

"It's a bit cliché, is it not?"

The corner of Walburga's lips rose. "Somebody has to mourn the dead, no?"

"What, you're not mourning it enough?"

"No," Walburga replied quickly. "Are you?"

Smiling at the answer he should've expected, Sirius replied, "Fuck no."

"Language."

Sirius shook his head. Unbelievable. His mother could not even pretend to be mad at him. He crouched down to touch the soil of his father's grave, tracing an outline of a dick with the tip of his wand.

"How childish."

"You should try it too, Mother. It's a bit fun."

He took a cigarette from the chest pocket of his suit. Before lighting it, he pointed his wand up to summon that umbrella he should've summoned moments ago. Only to look up and notice the glimmer of Walburga's magic over him. He immediately looked back down and lit the tip of his cigarette, swallowing the tightness of his throat before taking a puff.

Sirius finished his first cigarette wordlessly. He pressed it against the soil and watched the remaining embers die before sticking it over his father's grave.

"Do not desecrate your father's grave."

"I would piss and shit here if I was a dog." Sirius took another cigarette from his pocket. "Wait, you called me one earlier." He grinned up at her, who rolled his eyes at him.

He observed his mother's face. Her features were still regal and sharp, even with age. Not that his mother was old. He'd never thought about it, but his mother had him when she was just a bit older than he currently is. Her grey eyes never left the tombstone. Though Sirius considered himself an expert in deciphering his mother's expressions, try as he might he had no idea what his mother was thinking as she stared blankly at Orion's grave.

Sirius offered her the cigarette. "Want one?"

For the first time since he arrived here, Walburga stared at him. Sirius held her gaze.

She took the cigarette and lighted it wordlessly. And wandlessly.

Full of surprises today, his mother.

"You have to teach me that," Sirius smirked at her.

"I tried to teach you many useful things and this is what you ask of me?"

"Well, that's a neat trick." Sirius stood up with a groan. He faced his mother and swallowed the tightness in his throat again.

"You know what you should do?" He asked softly. "You should remarry."

His mother chuckled mirthlessly.

"I mean it."

Walburga exhaled. "You should come back to Grimmauld. Sort out the family affairs. Do your duty to—"

"You know I won't."

"You still should." Walburga exhales smoke again, this time slower. "Much as you and I hate this both, you're the only one who can pass on the family name."

"You can! Go and remarry. Find someone you love—"

His mother laughed.

"—make him take the family name. Spend the entire Black fucking fortune, I do not care for it. Do whatever you want!"

Walburga considered him and for the first time in so long, Sirius saw the same adoration his mother used to have for him. Before he disappointed her. Walburga reached out to touch his face. He flinched and closed his eyes before she could touch him. When he opened his eyes, his mother was back to staring blankly at his father's tombstone, her hand clutching her skirt tightly.

"You know I can't," she whispered.

Blinking back the heat behind his eyes, he whispered. "Yes, you can."

Not hearing a response from his mother, he repeated it more firmly. "Yes, you can. You can do whatever the fuck you want now, mummy. You're free!"

"Are you?" his mother faced him once more. "Free?" Of him? Of me?

Sirius stared at her. He smiled. "I'm doing my best."

"Good," Walburga nodded. "Good."

They stood together in silence once more, both finishing their cigarettes. Sirius opened his mouth to try and convince his mother one last time, only to be beaten to it by her.

"That Potter boy has been lurking around the woods for ages now. Tell him to get lost if he doesn't know how to pay his respects properly."

Sirius turned to the trees and saw James hide behind one. James took a peek after a while. When he caught Sirius's eyes, he raised a brow and mouthed 'Go now?', his thumb pointing behind him.

Sirius threw him a v. "Fucking idiot."

"Language."

Sirius faced Walburga again. He swiped his palm over his mouth, muttering what sounded like a fuck it. "If you don't mind me bringing James, I could stop by Grimmauld, see what I can do—"

"Don't." Walburga smiled at him. She reached out to touch his face, and Sirius stood still beneath her touch. "You're doing your best, remember?"

Sirius stayed still.

"Go now. Your James is waiting."

Sirius nodded and turned to walk towards James.

"Sirius."

He paused.

"Don't sleep with your hair wet."

He kept his head down, staring at his now polished shoes as he approached James.

"Hey," James ran his fingers through Sirius's hair as he tried to meet the other's eyes. "Chin up, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Okay," James smiled at him. He glanced above James's head when he caught the glimmer of magic.

"Home now?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "Home now."

James offered his hand, and Sirius took it.

It was completely dry.

[hazellovesnuts]

Regulus understood the phrase "The calm after the storm" now. It was happening now. Everything became so calm and peaceful after Sirius left.

Regulus had cried all he had to cry. Regulus had cursed all he had to curse. Regulus felt tempted to hurt himself again. But then the next day, as he got out of his room. Everything seemed okay.

Days of peace. Days of silence. Days of uncertainty.

Walburga was cheerful that morning, as Regulus found her inside the kitchen. It was snowing outside. Inside the house, it smelled of chocolate, fresh coffee, and warm bread.

Regulus smiled at Samantha, their cook, and walked towards the table. Walburga was sitting by the window. She seemed busy with crafts apparently, and she was humming a cheerful french song.

"Bonjour, maman" Regulus said, unsure.

He had been prepared for the fighting, the yelling, the curses. It was weird Walburga was on a good mood.

And she smiled brightly at him when she noticed him.

"Bonjour, mon amour!" she exclaimed "Viens prendre ton petit déjeuner avec maman" she gestured towards the table, full of delicious treats. "There are pancakes, love, aren't they your favorite?"

"Not since I was ten" Regulus whispered but he was ignored as Walburga resumed with what she was doing, humming again.

Regulus frowned. What the hell was she doing?

Curiously, Regulus scooped closer. He noticed she had scissors in hand. To his surprise, he noticed she had been cutting family pictures.

She was cutting Sirius's face from those pictures. Even as a child. Even as a baby.

What the actual fuck?

Regulus felt an unexplicable pain inside his chest. He eyed at his mother with a shock expression.

"Maman, did you take your medicine this morning?"

The only times when she did weird things that scared him, were when she was in her manic episodes.

Warburga ignored his question. She wouldn't have answered anyway, because Orion decided to burst into the kitchen in that very second.

He ignored how Samantha and the other maids greeted him with "Good morning, Mr. Black", and he eyed between Walburga and Regulus with confusion.

"Since when do we eat breakfast in the kitchen?"

Regulus didn't even dare to look at his father. The bruises he had on his face, still healing, reminded Regulus of what had happened that night. The fight, the punches, the groans, the blood....

Sirius had attacked first. He had punched his father's jaw.

Regulus tried not to shake. He was afraid of Orion.

Walburga looked up from the pictures and gave her husband a delightful smile.

"Hello, my darling!" she put the scissors away and got up from her chair to embrace Orion.

It was common with his mother, she either yelled at her husband out of nowhere or she was all mellow with him. The second option was even scarier.

Although, Orion seemed to enjoy the attention.

"Why are you in such a good mood, darling?" Orion raised an eyebrow "Your father and bloody brother are arriving in a few hours..." then he took a quick glance at the stuff before whispering "What are we telling them about Sirius?"

Walburga had her arms wrapped around her husband's neck.

"Don't worry about it, love!" she chanted "It is New Years Eve and it is snowing!" she gestured to the window "Isn't it a wonderful day?"

Regulus and his father shared a worried glance.

"You have a very weird definition of wonderful. We're bloody screwed" Orion spat.

Walburga kept smiling, though. She kissed her husband's cheek. Then turned towards her son.

"Viens ici, chérie"

Reg had to admit that when Walburga acted like this, it felt kind of what a normal loving mother should. However, Regulus knew it wasn't real. And that it was about to turn into shit soon.

But Regulus didn't have much remedy that to obey. He wished he wasn't trembling as his mother's arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Walburga hugged both of them, each arm around their respective shoulders.

"My boys..." she tutted "I have a plan for this evening" Walburga said "Everything would turn out alright..." she smirked "We are a team after all, aren't we?"

Regulus didn't relax. He was tense. He knew Samantha and the others were eyeing at them suspiciously. And it would only be a matter of time until Orion noticed Walburga was in one of her manias. And he would be furious when it happened.

A team....

Regulus's eyes wandered to the pictures lying on the table. Their plastic faces smiling to the camera. A hole where Sirius's face was supposed to be.

Yeah right....

The difference was that Sirius was no longer part of them. Now things were even more fucked up that before.

Sirius had left a bloody mess, and he didn't even care.

[hazellovesnuts]

walburga and sirius.

(i threw this together instead of sleeping/studying.)

when walburga is thirteen she has thought of her first born's name and when it is improbable for her to conceive she wants to rip out her skin. she takes every potion under the sky and all but imperio-s her husband.

when her womb grows she cant bare hiding it, she wants everyone everyone everyone to know how precious precious precious the child growing inside her was and she doesnt care what people say and when she holds sirius for the first time she thinks his fate is the stars and he shines brighter than them all when she nurses him she says every sweet thing she never heard and when he's ill for the first time she forgets her name and how to breathe

when he cries she screams and silencio-s him. it's only because it hurts her to see her baby upset.

walburga loves sirius so much she hates him , she sees herself in sirius and she nurtures it , she sees her father in sirius and pushes him away , sirius is hers and she is sirius' , sirius knows her better than anyone (orion is afraid of her and he should be , regulus is young & too much like his father , alphard is a pest , she has to keep too many appearances up with cygnus), sirius is perfect perfect perfect she favors him shamelessly he is cunning and charming and witty and brave and ambitious and good looking he is everything everything everything a man should be and she forgets her husband for her son so she can feel some semblance of companionship in her life

sirius doesnt rebel.

he doesnt he doesnt he doesnt so why is he? he is good and he shit-talks people who deserve it so why why why is he yelling at walburga that morning no no no this . this is her baby this is her star the brightest the brightest the brigh why does he scream like she does and walk away the same way he's not like her he is better he is supposed to surpass her surpass them al .

she tries to help him . she's gentle , she never cuts too deep she always makes sure he's mobile she makes sure he knows how much it hurts her because she's not a bad mother she is good she is exceptionally good and lenient and gentle and cygnus thinks she's stupid but what does he know? andromeda is having an affair, he should focus on his own children.

but sirius sirius sirius he goes to hogwarts and she feels as if her soul has been ripped in two she feels she feels she feels so much that she doesnt see anyone for days

maybe she's too harsh but she loves him she loves him so much she doesn't even scar him when he comes home no matter how much orion anyone says he deserves it because her baby's home he's home he's

when she leaves again orion says she has regulus too and she tells him she knows but he isnt sirius

her son stops visiting and she misses him every christmas and birthday and thanksgiving and easter and new year's and

when sirius angry, he screams and walburga screams louder still because why is he angry? what did she do wrong? nothing, she thinks, nothing. hogwarts has made sirius small, his filthy friends have tainted sirius and she wishes she could chain him to the foot of her bed so he knows how much he means to her.

sirius mentions something about andromeda not being so bad and walburga wants to kill cygnus

he grows taller than her, her voice grows deeper and louder and walburga feels threatened when he yells, now, and she cant she cant she cant because that's her baby.

he was in her. he was in her. he was her.

he's starting to look like her father. she strikes him for it. why was he torturing her?

she's going mad, and it's not . it can't be because of sirius.

she clings closer to regulus when sirius stops appearing for holidays. she grips his arm too tight and she fixes his posture with more venom but it's only because sirius was born perfect . walburga never did have to teach him , did she?

when sirius is back for fourth year she is scared and angry and she tells him off and she tells him everything he does wrong and he looks at her like he hates her

walburga doesn't know what she's doing till sirius is screaming . mom mom mom im sorry im sorry im sor

she's not bad. she's not evil. sirius is simply misguided. (alphard said he liked him, that once. maybe he had a talk with him. maybe she should kill alphard for taking her boy away.)

after hogwarts, she will fix him again and he will be hers and she will be his

sirius comes home from christmas in his fifth year.

walburga never wants to let him go. sirius never wants to, either.

that summer break, he leaves.

he doesn't return.

she screams till her mouth is of blood and she curses each healer who tells her to calm down

how can she, when sirius isnt here and he never will be ever ever again

.

she clings to regulus, he's not in his room anymore

she looks to her husband and he's not there anymore

she's bitter and mad and no one visits her anymore

she is full of bitterness . she tells every portrait and every bird. she tells kreacher. when sirius appears in her dressing room mirror she tells him she hates him for what he did to her

blood traitor. had she not sent him to that bloody school, had he never interacted with those plebs, he would be hers. and she would be someone's. (for once.)

[hazellovesnuts]

walburga and sirius.

(i threw this together instead of sleeping/studying.)

when walburga is thirteen she has thought of her first born's name and when it is improbable for her to conceive she wants to rip out her skin. she takes every potion under the sky and all but imperio-s her husband.

when her womb grows she cant bare hiding it, she wants everyone everyone everyone to know how precious precious precious the child growing inside her was and she doesnt care what people say and when she holds sirius for the first time she thinks his fate is the stars and he shines brighter than them all when she nurses him she says every sweet thing she never heard and when he's ill for the first time she forgets her name and how to breathe

when he cries she screams and silencio-s him. it's only because it hurts her to see her baby upset.

walburga loves sirius so much she hates him , she sees herself in sirius and she nurtures it , she sees her father in sirius and pushes him away , sirius is hers and she is sirius' , sirius knows her better than anyone (orion is afraid of her and he should be , regulus is young & too much like his father , alphard is a pest , she has to keep too many appearances up with cygnus), sirius is perfect perfect perfect she favors him shamelessly he is cunning and charming and witty and brave and ambitious and good looking he is everything everything everything a man should be and she forgets her husband for her son so she can feel some semblance of companionship in her life

sirius doesnt rebel.

he doesnt he doesnt he doesnt so why is he? he is good and he shit-talks people who deserve it so why why why is he yelling at walburga that morning no no no this . this is her baby this is her star the brightest the brightest the brigh why does he scream like she does and walk away the same way he's not like her he is better he is supposed to surpass her surpass them al .

she tries to help him . she's gentle , she never cuts too deep she always makes sure he's mobile she makes sure he knows how much it hurts her because she's not a bad mother she is good she is exceptionally good and lenient and gentle and cygnus thinks she's stupid but what does he know? andromeda is having an affair, he should focus on his own children.

but sirius sirius sirius he goes to hogwarts and she feels as if her soul has been ripped in two she feels she feels she feels so much that she doesnt see anyone for days

maybe she's too harsh but she loves him she loves him so much she doesn't even scar him when he comes home no matter how much orion anyone says he deserves it because her baby's home he's home he's

when she leaves again orion says she has regulus too and she tells him she knows but he isnt sirius

her son stops visiting and she misses him every christmas and birthday and thanksgiving and easter and new year's and

when sirius angry, he screams and walburga screams louder still because why is he angry? what did she do wrong? nothing, she thinks, nothing. hogwarts has made sirius small, his filthy friends have tainted sirius and she wishes she could chain him to the foot of her bed so he knows how much he means to her.

sirius mentions something about andromeda not being so bad and walburga wants to kill cygnus

he grows taller than her, her voice grows deeper and louder and walburga feels threatened when he yells, now, and she cant she cant she cant because that's her baby.

he was in her. he was in her. he was her.

he's starting to look like her father. she strikes him for it. why was he torturing her?

she's going mad, and it's not . it can't be because of sirius.

she clings closer to regulus when sirius stops appearing for holidays. she grips his arm too tight and she fixes his posture with more venom but it's only because sirius was born perfect . walburga never did have to teach him , did she?

when sirius is back for fourth year she is scared and angry and she tells him off and she tells him everything he does wrong and he looks at her like he hates her

walburga doesn't know what she's doing till sirius is screaming . mom mom mom im sorry im sorry im sor

she's not bad. she's not evil. sirius is simply misguided. (alphard said he liked him, that once. maybe he had a talk with him. maybe she should kill alphard for taking her boy away.)

after hogwarts, she will fix him again and he will be hers and she will be his

sirius comes home from christmas in his fifth year.

walburga never wants to let him go. sirius never wants to, either.

that summer break, he leaves.

he doesn't return.

she screams till her mouth is of blood and she curses each healer who tells her to calm down

how can she, when sirius isnt here and he never will be ever ever again

.

she clings to regulus, he's not in his room anymore

she looks to her husband and he's not there anymore

she's bitter and mad and no one visits her anymore

she is full of bitterness . she tells every portrait and every bird. she tells kreacher. when sirius appears in her dressing room mirror she tells him she hates him for what he did to her

blood traitor. had she not sent him to that bloody school, had he never interacted with those plebs, he would be hers. and she would be someone's. (for once.)

[hazellovesnuts]

“Sirius should be, out of the two of them, the one who joins his ranks.” Orion Black’s voice echoed down the hall, as he stepped down the long corridor.

“Categorically no.” Walburga Black snapped.

“It’s the Dark Lord’s wish. He believes Sirius would be an asset to them.”

“Considering the possibility that he does join, which he will not, because I will not allow it, if he dies, what will we do? Make Regulus the heir?”

“Precisely. He would be the better heir, either way; he’s much more obedient and malleable.”

“However obedient he is, Sirius possesses the qualities a heir to our house needs; determination, resilience, strength and intelligence, above all, which would make him the suitable candidate.”

“Are you implying that Regulus is not appropriate enough for the role, Walburga?”

“I am implying Regulus resembles you entirely, Orion,” She hissed.

Sirius attentively listened to his parents’ conversation from the tapestry room. His eyes were fixated on the wall, his gold-woven ancestors looking at him from the tapestry. He rolled his eyes. His previous namesake scolded him.

“That is not the appropriate behaviour for a bearer of our noble name,” He said, tutting.

Sirius got up from the dark, velvety cushion and pulled the curtains over his great-grandfather’s portrait, who let out an indignant noise.

His parents entered the room. His father had walked in first — he was a tall, slender man, with black hair down to his ears, and he was dressed as if he was about to leave the house. Sirius’ mother stood behind him, a willowy woman with pale skin and long, straight black hair, falling down her back. Her neck was adorned with her necklace with the family crest, and the skirt of her dress brushed the dark, polished floor.

“What are you doing here, boy?” Orion demanded.

“Observing,” He answered, standing up and making his way to the tapestry. “Am I not allowed to do that now, either?”

“Your brother announced us that you snuck out of the house last night and ventured out to Muggle London.” His mother’s voice was cold, yet she was no longer intimidating to Sirius; even on her heels, he was quite taller than him. “Is that so?”

“No.” Sirius lied through his teeth. “And even if I did, Regulus has the habit of not minding his own business. Maybe you should teach him that, father, since you mind your business so much you’re not often around.”

Sirius and Orion shot each other poisonous glares. He stood about five centimetres taller than his father, yet their eyes met with the same raging fury.

“You insolent—”

“Orion, I thought you said you had to meet Abraxas Malfoy,” Walburga sighed.

His eyes turned into slits. “We will have an important conversation later. I expect you to be home, not anywhere else, by the time I return from the Ministry.”

Sirius nodded, as his father left the room. His mother’s eyes lingered in the tapestry, right where her family’s names were; Walburga, Orion, Sirius, Regulus. Stars and saints.

All sinners.

[hazellovesnuts]

Walburga: Sirius, you need to stop liking feminine things.

Orion: Yes, son, you need to like more masculine things.

Sirius: *starts liking men*

Walburga and Orion, voices cracking: tHAT’S nOT wHAT wE mEANT—