#I hope I spelled your name correctly

[dramatic-delirium]

cat? cat.

What???

Who are you

I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU

And still you have blessed me so

Everyone give an applesauce for the above creature

*applause but that looks funnier so yes the cat gets apple. Just wait a sec let me google if it's fine.

Excuse me what I can kill a man with an apple leaf now?! I mean I knew it about almonds but... Eh??

Oh I was lied to

Atleast I was right about the almonds.

Btw have you seen the flowers of these things so pretty, wait a sec

Van Gogh painted them once too! Wait again

Cool right?

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 24 - Enchanted Strap

pairing: sub!Wanda x dom!Reader

summary: Wanda tries a new spell.

content warnings: strap-on, blowjob

word count: 1k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“Hey,” you say, dragging out the end of the word as you walk towards where Wanda is seated on the couch. She sets her book down as you approach, smiling up at you as you gently sit down on her lap, draping yourself over it. 

“Remember the spell I asked you about?” 

Wanda chuckles at that, her cheeks growing slightly pink. She nods, biting her lip as her hand slowly rubs your thigh. 

You smile back at her, one of your hands coming up to cup her cheek, loving the way she nuzzles into it. Your fingers gently stroke her soft skin, moving to tuck her hair behind her ear. Truly, you were lucky to have Wanda as a girlfriend, and the fact that she was a witch only made you love her more. 

She’d been nervous to tell you at first, but your eyes had lit up and you’d cupped her jaw and told her to show you more in that commanding, breathless tone of yours. Wanda didn’t have the willpower to deny you, so she’d demonstrated her powers for you as you’d watched with child-like glee, your eyes wide and hands still gentle and loving when you touched her. 

You were the first person she’d ever told about her powers, and she couldn’t have been luckier to have you. 

“I want you to use it,” you say, your fingers moving to play with a few strands of her auburn hair. 

Wanda blushes harder at that. God, she gets so adorably shy. It's one of the most endearing things about her, truly, you love it. Her hands move slightly quicker against your thigh, and you can practically hear the thoughts spinning around in her mind. 

“Now, love,” you say, dropping your voice lower as you stand. Holding out a hand, you help Wanda up from the couch, smiling at the quiet ‘yes, darling’ that she responds with. 

You watch her walk toward the bedroom, shamelessly admiring her silhouette. Feeling yourself growing wet, you sink back onto the couch with a slight groan. Picking up Wanda’s book, you make sure to save her spot before setting it on the coffee table and stretching out on your stomach. 

The urge to rut your hips and grind into the cushion is strong, but you refuse to be caught in such a position. You could control yourself, you weren’t some… animal that just gave into their urges on a whim. But, you were pretty sure that wouldn’t last long tonight. 

After some time, Wanda calls your name from the bedroom. You feel your heart rate jump in anticipation, the heat between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. 

You slowly walk toward the room, steeling yourself as your nerves spike with excitement. The room is dark when you enter, a single lamp illuminating Wanda’s figure as she sits on the edge of the bed. She’s holding something in her hands, and you smile at her as you close the door behind you. 

“Put it on me, sweetheart,” you murmur, stepping further into the room. 

“Come here then,” Wanda says, her voice only slightly shaky as she commands you. A slight chuckle escapes you before you raise an eyebrow at her and move to stand directly in front of her. 

Her hands tremble slightly as she raises the harness to your hips, the dark red strap-on looking absolutely perfect in the dim lighting. God, you really hoped this spell worked. 

“I said the incantation correctly, so just… let me know what you’re feeling, okay?” Wanda says softly, her hands quickly securing the straps around your hips and thighs. 

You let your hands run through her hair as she works, your fingernails scraping against her head slightly. Feeling her tighten the last strap, you watch her lean back to admire her handiwork.

“Well,” you say, tilting your head. “Go on.” 

Wanda looks at you with wide, hungry eyes. Her pupils are already blown, and you know that she’d probably worked herself up just by enchanting the dildo. Sliding off the bed, Wanda gets on her knees in front of you, her hands coming up to rest on your hips. 

“Suck it.”

Obeying, Wanda wraps her lips around your strap, and that’s when you feel it. 

Oh. God. 

The sensation of her lips and tongue swirling around the tip of your strap causes your knees to buckle. Wanda’s strong hands support you, spinning you around until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping the comforter tightly. 

Emboldened by your reaction, Wanda takes you further into her mouth, loving the way you moan and buck your hips. One of your hands moves to grip her hair, the painful sensation causing her to moan. 

Everything happens all at once. Her moan vibrates against your strap, and the added sensation causes your orgasm to wash over you. It’s powerful, and you lose control slightly as you fuck yourself further into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. 

Wanda’s fingers dig into your hips, but you hold her head painfully still as you spasm and jerk, your orgasm causing all of your muscles to lock up. Her pitiful whines and choked sounds cause another, smaller orgasm to wash over you, and you pant as she takes you further down your throat. 

The sensation of Wanda’s head bobbing up and down your strap sends your brain into overdrive. You finally feel the aftershocks hit, the peak of your orgasm fading as pleasure continues to roll through you. 

“Fuck,” Wanda chokes, finally pulling her mouth free from your strap. She licks the tip, smiling at the way your hips jerk in response. “That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

A half moan, half chuckle escapes you. 

Slowly, you pull Wanda into a standing position, ignoring the way your over-sensitive strap jerks when her thigh touches it. You want this night to be perfect, and you want to show Wanda just how proud you are of her new enchantment. 

“Lie down for me, love,” you murmur, already looking forward to the feeling of her soaked core sliding against your strap. God, you can’t wait to sink into her and fuck her while feeling her around you. 

“I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

[lemoncrushh]

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored

short lil summary: after that one night with harry, you can't stop thinking about him...but things don't exactly turn out like you'd hoped.

warnings: smut (multiple positions, multiple orgasms), angst, oral (f receiving), dirty talk - 18+ ONLY!!

word count: 8k+

a/n: this is part 2 of bad idea. read that first.

(obviously both are somewhat inspired by ariana grande songs)

You heard your phone ringing as you stepped out of the shower. Knowing better than to hurry and risk falling on the bathroom floor, you listened for another ring, but none came. Quickly drying off with a towel, you wondered if it was Harry.

The two of you had been texting for the last few days. While he’d continued with his audacious flirting, he hadn’t made another move to see you again until last night.

Wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? he’d texted.

Not wanting to sound too eager, you’d said you had tentative plans with a friend - which wasn’t a full lie since Deliah had texted you and asked to get together - so you should play it by ear.

Stepping into your bedroom, you grabbed your phone from your bed. Your lips twitched into a grin when you saw his name.

Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Thoughts of him had been invading your mind since you’d left his apartment that morning. That morning after the most incredible sex you’d ever had. He’d ordered you an Uber, and offered you breakfast which you’d declined. While he’d been sweet, promising to text you, you’d made sure to keep things casual - especially after seeing that text from Melanie on his phone.

Maybe she was his girlfriend. He’d guessed correctly that you didn’t have a boyfriend, but he never divulged his own relationship status. And if he was anything like his brother, he may have a handful of women he was fucking. Not that you blamed him. He was a sexy guy, and despite falling under his spell for one drunken, sex-charged night, you were still his brother’s ex and knew it was best not to get too attached.

One thing you admitted to yourself at least, was that you enjoyed his flirty little texts and the way they made you giggle like a schoolgirl. But you would never say this to your friends. You hadn’t heard from Marcie at all since that night, and Deliah, ever the kind and gentle soul, merely asked if you got home okay and if you had a hangover, saying you two should make dinner plans. Obviously both of your friends knew you’d slept with your ex’s brother. But for now, it had yet to be a topic of conversation.

“Hey, it’s Harry,” he said in the voicemail he’d just left. “Was wondering if you were free. I was just about to head to the coffee shop. Let me know.”

Since you hadn’t heard decisive plans from Deliah about that dinner yet, you tapped the phone to call Harry back.

“Hi, which coffee shop?”

You could see him through the cafe window before you even made it to the door. He sat in a corner booth at the front, another cap backwards on his head. He smiled and waved when he saw you coming, and it immediately sent a warm feeling through your veins.

“Hi,” you said when you approached him, and he rose from the booth, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek.

“You look lovely,” he commented, his palm running down your back and lingering just above your waist. “I haven’t ordered yet. Thought I’d wait for you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to.”

Harry shrugged. “I wanted to.”

With a grin, you walked with Harry to the counter to place your coffee order. When he told the barista it was together and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, you didn’t argue. Joining him at the table again, you asked Harry how his day had been.

“Pretty good,” he replied. “Had another interview this morning.”

“How did that go?”

“Went well, I think. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“I know,” you nodded. “Good luck, though.”

“Thanks.”

You both continued to make small talk for a bit until the barista called out his name. You watched Harry slide out of the booth to pick your coffees up at the counter. Selfishly, you stared at his back, his broad shoulders, hoping he was planning to stay in the states instead of returning to London. Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for having such thoughts. He was not yours to claim. Some good dick and a cup of coffee did not mean anything more.

Returning to the table, he set your cup in front of you. Then Harry’s smile spread across his face before he reached for his phone. “Found something today as well,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh?”

Tapping on his cell, Harry chuckled before turning it towards you. Your face fell when you recognized the image. It was your senior photo from high school.

“Is that you?” he asked.

With a sigh, you nodded, wanting to make yourself small and melt into the vinyl of the seat. “Yeah.”

“I told you I thought you looked familiar,” he smirked. “You went to my high school.”

“Where did you find that?” you asked him with a grimace.

“Your instagram.”

“Shit,” you muttered, throwing your hand over your face. You’d forgotten you had an account. You’d abandoned it after you and David had broken up.

Fuck! David!

“I hope you don’t mind that I looked you up,” Harry continued.

Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you shook your head, wanting to vomit. “I guess you know who I am, then.”

“From school, yeah. Oh, you mean that you dated my brother?”

“Yes,” you groaned, shielding your eyes from him as you looked down at your untouched coffee.

“Honestly? I don’t care much about that.”

Lifting your head, you stared at him in shock. “What?”

Harry shrugged. “David’s dated a lot of girls. I could barely keep track even before I left for London. I was bound to run into one of them sooner or later.”

Making a face, you sat back. “Not sure how I feel about that.”

Harry chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re just another chick, sweetheart. You’re anything but that, if I’m being honest. It just doesn’t matter to me that you dated my brother, that’s all. I like you. We had a good time, yeah?”

Color rose to your face as your body relaxed. “Yes.”

“Good.” Harry gazed back at the photo on his phone. “You were really cute, too. I would’ve asked you out if I hadn’t been a dorky freshman.”

A cackle escaped your lips as you looked away, turning back only to find a gorgeous, sexy grin on Harry’s face.

“You’re definitely not dorky now, Harry,” you commented.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

The moment was silent as you looked at him and blinked. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I…was afraid it would spoil everything. I was enjoying spending time with you.”

“‘s alright. I enjoyed it too.”

Finally taking a sip of your latte, you looked up at him. “So where does that leave us?”

“Exactly where we were. I asked you here because I wanted to see you again.”

“And?” you tilted your head, hoping he had more to add.

“And…I was hoping we could get together again soon. Like this weekend.”

“Alright,” you said nonchalantly, lifting your cup to your lips.

Harry snickered. “Just alright? Did you have other plans?”

“Well, I might, Harry. It’s kind of late notice, and you don’t know me that well.”

He threw his head back laughing, and you couldn’t help but be pleased. You liked his laugh. A little too much. When he looked at you again, his eyes were dancing with glee. You took that as a good sign. Then he leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table.

“Tell you what, sweetheart. You let me know what time you’re free - either Friday or Saturday evening. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Pursing your lips, you grabbed your own phone from your bag and pretended to be looking at a calendar.

“Hmm, you’re in luck, Harry. I happen to be free both evenings,” you teased.

“That is lucky,” he agreed. “Let’s not play it by ear this time though, hmm? I wanna set a date.”

“Oh. So it’s a real date this time?” you quipped.

“What do you think this is?” Harry raised a brow, acting offended.

You chuckled. “A coffee date.”

“Ah!” Harry lifted a finger in the air. “But it is a date.”

Pulling your lips to the side, you rolled your eyes. “More like a coffee…meet up.”

“Don’t change the terms now, love, that’s not fair.”

You laughed out loud, enjoying the banter. “Alright, Harry. You can pick the night. You’re so stubborn, and if you weren’t so fucking cute I’d tell you just forget it.”

Harry slapped his hand to his chest. “Honey, that hurt.”

“No it didn’t,” you jested, trying not to show how affected you were by him calling you honey. “Drink your coffee.”

His dimples deepened as he lifted his cup. “Friday, okay?” he winked before taking a sip.

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“I have a friend whose band is playing. Would you like to go?”

“Sure.” Though you’d just done the bar thing the weekend before, Harry was just out of college and was probably still part of that whole scene. And it was his friend, so you didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Great,” Harry beamed. “I’ll pick you up around eight.”

You nodded again, taking another sip of coffee.

The rest of the coffee date was more flirting and teasing, some idle chit chat. Before your goodbyes, Harry was sweet to walk you out to your car, giving you a gentle, yet sensual kiss. And though it had been on the edge of your mind all evening, you didn’t bring up the Melanie text. You told yourself it was none of your business, but in all honesty, you didn’t wanna know the truth.

“You’re seeing him again?” asked Deliah as she dug her fork into her salad. You’d finally managed to get together for dinner the next evening. And for the first time since Saturday night, Harry’s name was brought up when she asked about your weekend plans.

“Tomorrow. And I saw him yesterday for a coffee date.”

“So it’s getting serious already?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not serious, Deliah. It’s just fun.”

“Oh. Do you like him?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t.”

“You know what I mean…” Deliah tilted her head and eyed you.

Shrugging, you reached for your water glass. “If you’re asking about feelings, Deliah, it’s way too soon for that.”

“I don’t know. I fell for Shane on our first date.”

“That’s because you’re special,” you winked.

Your friend smiled as she set down her fork and wiped her hands on her napkin. “Marcie’s still mad at you, you know.”

“I figured as much,” you commented. “She hasn’t replied to any of my texts.”

“She thinks you’re just trying to get back at David.”

“Who gives a shit about David?” you exclaimed. “I’m so over him.”

“Well, she thinks you’re not, and she’s afraid you’ll fall for Harry because he looks like him.”

Sitting back in your chair, you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “He doesn’t, actually. Sure, he resembles him a little because he’s his brother, but they are nothing alike.”

“I believe you, Y/N,” Deliah held up her hands. “I’m only repeating what Marcie told me.”

With a huff, you grabbed your water again and gulped it down. “I thought friends were supposed to support each other,” you added. “Not bring each other down.”

“I support you! I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are,” you sighed. Then giving a smile, you picked up your fork. “Besides, I’m not in love with the guy. He’s just really hot and good in bed. Like I said, I’m just having fun, okay?”

“Okay,” Deliah nodded.

“So what’ll it be tonight, love?” asked Harry as you took a seat at a high top table near the stage, his hand on the small of your back. “Tequila shots again?”

“Only if you want,” you grinned up at him.

“No problem.” He lowered his mouth to yours for a soft, tiny kiss before making his way to the bar.

Setting your clutch on the table in front of you, you smiled to yourself. Harry had already kissed you a handful of times tonight, starting with the big, wet one he’d laid on you as soon as you’d opened your door. He’d stood there hatless for the first time since you’d met, his usual fratboy attire absent, or at least most of it. He still wore jeans and a button down, but this one was soft and silky, black with a small stitching design. On his feet he wore black boots, and he smelled like heaven.

“Fuck me, you look amazing!” he’d exclaimed, taking the words out of your mouth.

And before you could respond, he’d slipped his hands around your waist and covered your lips with his. It had taken you a few seconds to come down from that kiss before you’d had a chance to return the compliment, only to have him press another one on your mouth next to his car.

The way he kept stealing glances at you during the drive to the bar also confirmed you’d made the right choice in your dress this evening, and you knew without a doubt that an encore of the weekend before was imminent.

The bar was crowded as you gazed around and saw Harry returning, balancing the shots in one hand and two beer necks in the other. You giggled as you rose from your seat.

“Here, let me help you,” you offered, reaching for the shots.

“No, you take these,” he insisted, dodging the people around him.

Grabbing the beers, you returned to the table.

“I’ll be right back, I forgot the limes,” explained Harry.

“Harry, it’s fine,” you chuckled, grasping his arm.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s too crowded over there. I don’t need them if you don’t.”

“Not really,” he smirked.

Patting the chair next to you, you urged him to sit. He obliged, lifting one of his shot glasses.

“To you, sweetheart,” he announced.

“Me?”

“Yeah. For looking so goddamn sexy; I may have to cut out of here early or take you right here on this table.”

“Shut up,” you cackled, playfully pinching his thigh.

“Shit, don’t do that either, love, c’mon,” he hissed, grabbing your wrist.

“Harry…”

“I’m serious, babe. You turn me on so much.”

“Well…” you sighed, lifting your tequila shot. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Harry stared at you as you brought your glass to your lips. Then he did the same, shooting it down in the same rhythm you did. When you reached for your second glass, Harry raised a brow.

“Not taking your time now?”

“No,” you replied. “Not tonight.”

When you swallowed back the warm liquid, feeling it pulse through your veins, Harry followed. But when he nearly slammed his glass down, he leaned over and kissed you, sucking on your tongue. You held onto him to keep from falling off the stool.

While the kiss and the heated moment itself had seemed to drown out the noise of the crowd, you both were reminded of where you were when the sound of a screeching guitar interrupted your little private soiree. Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb, Harry gave you a dimpled smirk before whispering in your ear.

“Will definitely continue this later.”

Licking your lips, you nodded. “Which one is your friend?” you asked as the band kicked into their first song.

“The lead guitarist, right there,” he gestured. “Lance. He went to our school too, but he was a grade below me.”

“Oh.”

You sat and watched the band play a song you weren’t familiar with, but sounded catchy. Then they went into a song you did know, a throwback from college. Harry smiled widely at you as you began to sing along, then he slipped his hand up your knee underneath the table. You grinned back, covering his hand with yours, still mouthing the words. Reaching for his beer, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig while you continued to enjoy the band, raising your other arm in a fist to shout the lyrics to the chorus.

“This a favorite song of yours?” Harry asked in your ear.

“It was,” you replied. “Just brings back memories. It was one of my first concerts. I got really drunk that night, but don’t tell anybody.”

You giggled as Harry tried to urge his hand up higher on your thigh. “Wish I’d known you then.”

The band switched into a more modern track, and you used the opportunity to drink some of your beer. Your other hand still on Harry’s, you gazed around the room, seeing just how it had filled up since the band had started to play.

“Do you think all these people know the band already, or are they just here ‘cause it’s a bar?”

“Probably a mix of both,” Harry chuckled. “Lance said they have a bit of a following, though.”

“Is this the first time you’ve seen them?”

“Since I’ve been back, yeah. But I’ve known Lance forever, and he’s always been in some kind of band since high school.”

Just then, the song ended and the singer spoke into the mic, introducing the band and its members before starting the next song which was an original.

“Do you want another beer, or a shot?” asked Harry.

“I’m good for now,” you smiled. “But I think I’ll make a trip to the ladies’.”

Rising from your stool, you finally released Harry’s hand with a squeeze, then gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing your clutch and turning for the bathrooms. On your way, you noticed a blonde sitting at the end of the bar, her gaze straight ahead, though it didn’t appear she was watching the band. It looked like she was staring at Harry.

If you hadn’t had to use the restroom so badly, you would have done something, though you weren’t sure what. Instead, you hurried in the ladies’ room - as quickly as you could despite the short line - and began to make your way back to your table.

You stopped in your tracks, however, when you noticed the blonde had taken your seat. She looked like she was arguing with Harry, pointing at him and gesturing with her hands. Harry did the same, opening his arms wide as he spoke to her, until he finally shrugged and the girl stepped off the stool and huffed as she strutted away.

Swallowing hard, you slowly continued your steps toward Harry. He had his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the table when you slipped into your chair.

“Who was that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Oh…” he lifted his head. “Shit. Sorry. Do you want another-”

“Who was that girl, Harry?” you said again, firmly.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh. She didn’t seem too pleased to see you.”

“She um…was looking for me, actually. Reckoned I’d be here.”

“She knows you’re friends with Lance,” you commented.

“Yeah.” Harry stared down at his beer bottle, peeling the edges of the label off with his fingernails. You could tell he was avoiding looking at you.

Exhaling through your nose, you placed your bag on the table in front of you. That must have been Melanie. Not really sure what else to say, you took a swig of your beer. The roaring sound of the crowd around you and the high decibels of the rock band seemed to be miles away as you stared at Harry, hoping he would say something. Finally, you spoke, for the silence between you was driving you crazy.

“Harry…” you leaned forward, placing your hand on his arm. He lifted his head to look at you, but his expression was not one you could easily read. “Do you wanna leave?” you asked.

Sitting up, Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping. Then he shook his head. “No. Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Me too,” you mouthed, though you didn’t really say the words loud enough to hear. Then you took his hand and looked him in the eye. “Harry, I’m enjoying being with you. I really like you. But…I don’t wanna be…”

“Shh,” he silenced you, pulling you to him in an embrace. Then he softly said the things in your ear that you’d hoped he would. “You’re not, sweetheart. Don’t even think it. I’ll tell you more about her later, if you wanna know. But it’s been over for a while. Alright?”

Pulling back, Harry looked at you, studying your face. “I don’t wanna leave…at least not yet. I wanna be here…with you.”

You nodded eagerly, believing his words…wanting to believe them. Bringing his hands to your face, he cupped your cheeks and placed a tender kiss on your lips. Blinking your eyes, you decided to let it go for now. He’d said she was an ex. He obviously knew who your ex was now. Maybe you were even.

You enjoyed the rest of the band’s first set until they stopped to take a fifteen minute break. Lance recognized Harry when he set down his guitar, and walked off the stage to greet him. When Harry introduced him to you, Lance gave a smile and a thank you for coming. They chatted and reminisced for a bit, and you half-wondered if Melanie’s name would come up, but it didn’t.

After Lance left, Harry announced he was going to the bathroom and would return with more drinks. You people-watched while he was away, swinging your legs underneath the table to the beat of the music playing through the speakers. You laughed at a handful of frat boys playing darts at the far wall, and snuck a peak at a couple making out in the corner. Your own desire was still amped up, despite the ex-girlfriend thing, and you secretly hoped Harry would decide to take you home soon.

When he wasn’t back in ten minutes, however, you started to get antsy and a little worried. There was still a crowd at the bar, and you wondered if he was there and needed help carrying your drinks. Grabbing your purse, you walked in that direction, but stopped when you saw your date on the other side of the bar talking to the blonde again. Your stomach suddenly in knots, you strode over to them and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He turned with a surprised look on his face.

“I’m gonna go,” you announced. “I’ll get an Uber.”

“Y/N, no!”

“Yeah…I am. You two obviously have some things to work out. And I’m not in the mood to wait for you to finish tonight.”

When you turned for the exit, Harry grabbed your arm. “Honey, please,” he said. “Don’t leave. I was just telling Melanie to leave, that I was here with you-”

“Melanie,” you repeated. “That’s her name?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Call me when this is over,” you said. “If that’s what you want. Otherwise, don’t call me…at all.”

You heard Harry call your name once more as you made your way to the door, scrambling to get your phone out of your bag. Once outside, you requested an Uber on the app, grateful there was a driver closeby.

You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry because that would be foolish. You didn’t have any feelings for Harry. He was just some guy. Some really hot, sexy guy who’d made you come four times in one night.

Fuck it all!

You didn’t hear from Harry the rest of the night. Though you sort of wished you would get at least an apology text, asking if you were okay, you got nothing. You got nothing the next day either, nor the day after that. By Monday you’d given up, deciding he was indeed just some guy, and just like his brother, if not worse.

You felt ashamed. Ashamed that you’d insisted it was just sex and told your friends you were just looking to have fun. You couldn’t even call or text them. Marcie would probably say “I told you so,” and Deliah, while she wouldn’t say it, would be thinking it.

It wasn’t until Thursday that you finally got a text from Harry. By then you’d just about forgotten his number was still in your phone. Almost.

Hi.

One word. That was it. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if you would respond. Such a guy thing to do.

You simply replied with the same word. Two letters. No emotion.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

Of course he was. Rolling your eyes, you typed back.

What for?

He took a minute to respond. You figured he was trying out different ways to explain without stating the obvious.

For everything, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Melanie. We broke up a while ago, but since I’ve been back she’s been trying to get back together. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Ok. Short and sweet. No need to go further and spew any word vomit. Keep it simple.

I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really like you, and I’m very attracted to you.

Biting your lip to keep it from trembling, you texted quickly.

So you got back together? You just wanted him to tell you already. Nip it in the bud.

Yes. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I’m sorry I haven’t called.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly. Then you typed your final response.

Thanks for letting me know. Have a nice life.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you sat on the edge and let yourself cry. Just a little.

Three weeks later…

Summer was in full swing, the sun heating up the pavement as the tropical cocktails cooled your throat. You laid between Marcie and Deliah on the pool chairs, sunglasses on your face and a piña colada in your hand. This time the party was hosted by one of Marcie’s colleagues, Jennifer, whose husband was a doctor. Needless to say, the house was gorgeous, the enormous pool and outdoor bar only the icing on the cake.

You were glad to be hanging out with your girlfriends again. While you’d never gone into details about the Harry charade, you’d merely told them they were right, and that he was just wanting a piece of ass. You told them you were over it - in fact, had brushed it off your shoulders like it was nothing - when in truth, it had taken you a bit until the memory of Harry’s touch, his plump lips on yours, his cock deep inside of you had completely vanished.

Who were you kidding? He was still on your mind, every fucking day. But you weren’t about to tell them that.

Ian came up to Marcie and handed her another tequila sunrise, taking her empty glass from her. She thanked him with a term of endearment and you felt your stomach clench. Sipping on your cocktail, you watched the people in the pool throw a beach ball around. Suddenly, the music that was playing through the tiny, hidden speakers switched from the Sabrina Carpenter song you liked to a rock tune by Bon Jovi, immediately transporting you back to the last time you’d heard it.

You could still see him sitting there in Trevor’s loft, holding the glass of beer, a snapback backwards on his head as he stared at you. And as if he had known you were thinking about him, like magic he appeared.

He stood on the other side of the pool, wearing yellow swim trunks and a white t-shirt, sandals on his feet, and a fucking backwards cap on his head. Black shades covered his eyes, but you could swear he was looking right at you, despite the blonde in the blue bikini holding his hand right next to him.

Greg, Jennifer’s husband walked up to him then, and Harry shook hands with him. Then he turned towards the pool chairs behind him where he removed his cap and shirt and laid them down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was too much to bear, so you shoved your drink at Deliah who glared at you in surprise.

“I don’t feel so well,” you muttered. “Going to the bathroom.”

Slipping into your sandals with haste, you rushed to the back door where Jennifer was just exiting.

“Oh, hey, I just put out more snacks on the kitchen island!” she announced. “Help yourself!”

“Thanks,” you said hurriedly, setting your sunglasses on your head before bolting for the stairs.

You figured a bathroom upstairs would be more private. With relief, you found one halfway down the hall and locked the door behind you.

You can do this! You breathed to yourself. Remember, he’s just a guy.

Taking several more breaths, you used the toilet and washed your hands before deciding you most definitely could do this. It wasn’t like it had been with David. You hadn’t been pining over Harry for twelve years.

Skipping down the stairs, you decided to stop in the kitchen to check out the snacks. You paused when you saw Harry inspecting the fruit and finger sandwiches, laying several on a paper plate. When he lifted his eyes and saw you, he looked surprised.

“Y/N. I…I didn’t know you were here.”

“Sure you did,” you quipped, grabbing a plate for yourself. “You saw me outside.”

“I promise, I didn’t,” he chuckled. “But…it’s good to see you.”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, reaching for the dip.

“I mean it. You look…amazing.” You watched his eyes follow down your body in your two-piece bathing suit.

“Thanks,” you clipped as you diverted your gaze and started piling potato chips onto your plate.

Making your way around the island, you stopped in front of the watermelon, grabbing several chunks with your plastic fork. Harry hadn’t seemed to move since you walked in the room. But you heard him speak again when you reached for the sandwiches.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“I really am sorry. I was hoping we could be friends.”

Finally looking at him again, you noticed a somber look on his face, one you hadn’t seen before. Regret? Maybe.

“Friends? Sure.”

“You mean it?”

With a nervous chuckle, you shrugged. “Whatever, Harry. But to be honest, I don’t usually become friends with a guy after I’ve slept with him.”

The back door opened again and Greg held it for one of the other guests.

“Oh, can you keep that open for me, please?” you called, carrying your plate of goodies. “Thank you!”

Stepping back out into the sun, you returned to your friends, leaving Harry alone on his island.

The hot afternoon had begun to cool down as the evening breeze blew in. Both Marcie and Deliah had been kind enough to let you know they’d noticed Harry had arrived but would be happy to leave with you if you wanted. You gave them both hugs, assuring them you were fine. Of course it was a lie, but one you were willing to tell for your own sanity.

You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off of him. He stayed on his side of the pool for the most part, and you figured it was mostly due to his girlfriend. Surely she knew you were there as well, and was avoiding any more uncomfortable situations. So other than getting in the pool for a bit yourself, you pretty much stayed in your chair or sat at an umbrella-covered table with your friends.

And of course, the alcohol helped. By four o’clock you’d had a pretty good buzz going and continued to keep it for the rest of the afternoon. It was much easier to have fun and not worry about the hot guy on the other side of the pool when you were tipsy.

By the time the sun was setting, Greg and some of his friends had grilled a delicious feast, everyone partaking with pleasure after the long, hot day. Afterwards, a few people started a game of volleyball in the pool, including Harry. When the other side needed another team member, you decided to join in.

“Y/N, are you crazy?” squealed Deliah.

“No, just drunk,” you laughed.

Taking a spot near the net, you watched Harry as he watched you through his shades. When he missed a serve, you snorted.

“How you gonna see the ball, frat boy?” you heckled. “It’s dark now.”

Slipping his sunglasses off his face, you caught the way he scowled at you. You also didn’t miss the way Melanie leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

The game continued, each team earning two points. But when Harry served, and the ball barely went over the net, you missed it.

“Tough break, princess,” Harry smirked, earning him a piercing look from Melanie.

“I shoulda gotten that one,” said the man standing next to you. “Not your fault.”

You smiled widely at him, knowing full well that Harry’s eyes were on you. This went on for a while. Though it wasn’t a tough game, you definitely got a glimpse of how competitive Harry could be. But you had to admit to yourself it was a turn-on. And though your team ended up losing, you were secretly happy that Harry got the win.

After the game, you grabbed your towel and headed for the house to change into your other clothes you had brought with you. You’d left your bag in a corner beside the sofa, and when you grabbed it and started up the stairs, you heard your name. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry coming up behind you.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“Just wanted to say that was fun,” he smiled his dimpled grin.

“The volleyball game?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you think so? You seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did,” you nodded, reaching the top of the stairs.

“So we can be friends,” he commented.

Stopping in front of the bathroom door, you turned around and looked at him. Really looked at him. His cap was back on his head, his eyes bloodshot from the chlorine. But he looked incredible. His skin was tan, as though he’d probably already been out in the sun many times that summer already. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, revealing his tattoos. And damn if those dimples didn’t make you want to swoon.

“Playing a game with you and your girlfriend does not make us friends,” you remarked.

“Why not?”

“Because…” you paused, gathering up just the right words and the courage to say them. “Because I didn’t wanna be the one who had to leave the bar that night.” 

Harry’s face fell, his expression contrite. He looked like he was about to say something, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it. Instead, you turned for the bathroom, but before you could shut the door, Harry followed you in, locking it behind both of you.

“What are you doing?” you asked this time.

But Harry responded only with his mouth. Colliding with yours, he kissed you fervently, his tongue invading your mouth with purpose and determination. Your brain told you to resist, to push him back and out of the closed space, but your body was doing the opposite. Your hand released the towel it was holding, letting it fall to the floor. With a moan, you threw your arms around his neck. Harry’s hands found your waist, sliding down and inside your bikini bottoms. They felt so warm against your cool, damp skin. He pushed down the fabric, letting them pool at your feet. Then he lifted you up and onto the bathroom counter.

“Harry…” you breathed as you stared at his gorgeous face.

Reaching behind you, he pulled on the string that tied your top around your back, then the one around your neck. Your breasts exposed, he cupped them before licking his lips and lowering his head to suck. You threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders.

When he lifted his head again, he smirked. “How quiet can you be, sweetheart?”

“Wha-what about…your girlfriend?” you came to your senses before he leaned in for another kiss.

“What about her?” Harry asked with heavy-lidded eyes.

You chuckled incredulously. “She’s downstairs, Harry. Or did you forget?”

With a groan, he leaned forward and let his head fall on your shoulder. “Shit. I think I made a mistake, love.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t’ve gotten back with her.” His words were muffled against your neck, but you heard him clearly.

“Oh. Okay…” You hadn’t expected him to say that.

“I can’t get you outta my head, Y/N,” he added, looking at you again. “You’re so fucking sexy…but I think…it’s more than that. We’ve just…we’ve grown apart, Melanie and me.”

“So…break up with her.” You let the words slip out before you realized. Before you even admitted that’s what you wanted.

Harry blinked a few times as he considered your request. When you got no response, you gently pushed on his chest.

“I gotta go,” you said, sliding off the counter and reaching for your bag. You pulled out your clothes and stepped into your underwear.

Harry was still silent as you finished dressing. When you yanked your bag onto your shoulder, you turned to look at him.

“Bye, Harry.” Reaching a hand out, you touched his face, then gave his lips a soft kiss.

As you opened the door, you heard him say. “I will.”

The knock startled you, waking you from your sleep. Throwing your hand out to your nightstand, you searched for your phone, lighting it up to check the time. It was half past midnight. A handful of texts with Harry’s name also displayed. Sitting up, you turned on the lamp, adjusting your vision.

Can I come over? I know it’s late.

I broke up with her.

Please, Y/N, I need to see you.

With a groan, you threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. The incessant knocking grew louder as you got closer to the front door.

“Okay, I’m coming, Jesus!” Swinging the door open, you were met with a familiar face, one you had just left a few hours ago. “Harry, what the fuck?”

“Sorry I woke you,” he said.

“No you’re not.”

Dropping his shoulders, Harry sighed. “No. I’m not.”

Pushing you backwards with his palms, he crossed the threshold, knocking the door closed with the heel of his boot. His arms wrapped around your waist before you could protest, his mouth covering yours.

You hated the way your lips fit together so perfectly. You hated the way your body reacted to his kiss. And more than anything, you hated the way you had wanted this to happen ever since you’d told him goodbye in that bathroom.

He guided you backwards toward your bedroom, or maybe you guided him. His lips didn’t leave yours until his hands tugged on your tank top, and you lifted your arms to help him remove it. Standing before him in just your panties, you stared at him, his fucking cozy flannel shirt, his ever present snapback.

“I broke up with her, Y/N,” he voiced softly, echoing his text.

“So you said.”

“It was a mistake to get back together with her. We just…wanted to try to make it work, you know? See if there was something still there between us-”

“Harry, shut up.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know about you and Melanie,” you chuckled, exasperated. “Why are you here?”

A smirk twitched on his lips as he stared at you incredulously. “What do you mean? I told you I needed to see you.”

“Yes, but are you gonna fuck me or not?”

His smirk widening into a full smile, Harry nodded, pulling you into another kiss. Removing his boots, he laid you down on the bed, his mouth trailing down your neck to nibble on your tits.

“Fuck, your skin is so soft. I’ve missed it so much,” he groaned, his hands sliding down your sides.

You grabbed hold of his hat, dropping it on the floor before running your fingers through his curls. Harry shimmied his body down between your legs while his mouth continued to leave a kiss on each part of your body down to your belly.

“This I’ve missed the most,” he whispered when his mouth stopped at your cloth-covered mound.

You whined softly as he slid his thumb up and down your slit, over your panties. You heard him chuckle low before your eyes met.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Yes. All yours, Harry.”

“All mine, hmm?” he breathed, reaching for the sides of your underwear.

You lifted your hips so he could pull them down, and he made sure his hands carefully but seductively traced your legs all the way until he reached your ankles. His body now on the floor, he knelt before you and pulled you closer so that your bottom was on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide.

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” he growled. “And all mine.”

His ringed finger held your thighs open as his wet tongue slid up your slit, resting on the bundle of nerves. Your toes immediately curled, your fingers grasping the bedding underneath you. You moaned as he slowly began circling and tapping on your clit, a quickly heightened sensation that you’d forgotten you craved.

“Oh, fuck yes,” you whined.

You felt him moan against you which only accelerated your pleasure. Tugging on his hair, you urged him closer, needing to feel the friction and release. When his fingers joined in on the fun, you arched your back, crying out his name.

“Harry, oh god, make me come!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the plan.”

You felt the tension in your core as his fingers hit the tender spot inside. Light-headed, you could feel yourself steadily reaching the precipice until the coil snapped and you cried out again, your legs trembling around his head.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good girl,” Harry cooed as you came. “So fucking sexy.”

Your chest heaving, you moaned his name, over and over, as if you were finally spilling out all the times you thought about him, all the times you wished he was in your bed.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…”

With a chuckle, Harry slithered up your body. “I like that,” he said before kissing you. “Love to hear my name on your lips.”

“Mmm, I can’t help it, Harry. I needed you so bad.”

“Yeah? Been thinking about me, baby?”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. You worried you’d confessed too much, but when Harry’s expression softened, and he whispered the words “me too”, you considered perhaps you hadn’t.

Sitting up, Harry removed his flannel and the t-shirt underneath. With a grin, you sat up too, on your knees, sliding your hands up his torso. He sighed when your lips met his chest and you kissed the ink that was displayed there.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” he said, his bedroom eyes on you when you gazed up at him.

Your fingers quickly found the button on his jeans, your hand slipping inside to cup his prominent bulge while your mouth continued to kiss his flesh, your tongue tracing the top of his butterfly tattoo.

“Fuck me, Y/N, you’re so hot.”

“So are you, Harry. I need to feel you.”

“Yeah? You want my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please,” you nodded up at him with pouty lips.

Harry smirked as he leaned in for a kiss. “Oh you are so fucking sweet, aren’t you?”

You nodded, meeting his lips and sucking on his tongue. He moaned against you before crawling off the bed to remove his jeans and underwear. You reached into your bedside drawer to get a condom, happy to roll it on his incredible erection.

“C’mere, honey,” he growled as he stood at the foot of the bed. He pulled you to the edge again, aiming his hard cock at your entrance.

“Are you wet enough?” he asked.

“Very,” you exhaled, as he tested the waters for himself.

“Always so wet for me,” he grinned before entering you slowly. “Mmm yeah, so good.”

Holding on your waist, Harry fucked you slow and deep. Running your hands down your chest, watched him as he watched you, his green eyes dark in the lamp light. Your breaths quickened as he thrust faster, his hands sliding underneath you to lift you higher.

“Oh yeah, fuck me…” you cried. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, you like that baby?”

“So much. Oh god!”

You watched his arm muscles flex, his stomach tighten as he fucked you harder. His jaw slack, his beautiful lips opened as he puffed out heavy breaths. He looked so sexy, you could barely stand it. When you cried out again, he slowed, lightly patting your behind.

“Turn over, babe,” he instructed.

Getting on your hands and knees, you scooted to the edge of the bed again where Harry eagerly grabbed your hips, guiding you to where he wanted you. You felt the pressure in your cunt as he slipped inside your walls, enveloping his cock and dripping down your leg.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed as he pressed his palm to your back.

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, you feel amazing. Nice and deep.”

“Ohhh Harry!”

Harry’s moans got deeper and more guttural as he pounded into you. You grasped at your sheets, needing to scratch at something. When he slapped your ass, you almost came undone.

“Fuck baby, this is so good, but I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” Harry groaned. Pulling out, he urged you to turn around again. “Grab hold of me.”

You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you up as you wound your legs around him, his cock sliding back into place. You bounced on him, impressed by his strength as he held you up.

“Oh my god!” you cried out again.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Harry moaned, thrusting harder. “God, you drive me crazy, Y/N. Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Mmm, me neither.”

He kissed you then, a deep, sensual kiss before lying you back down on the bed. As he hovered over you, the lamp reflected in his eyes, his gorgeous face full of desire. He resumed his thrusts, driving deeper and hitting the sweet spot, making you cry out all over again.

“Fuck me, baby!” you demanded. “Just like that, don’t stop. Make me come.”

“Yeah, you gonna come for me honey?”

“Yes!”

“Touch yourself. Touch your sweet clit while I fuck you.” He lifted your legs to his shoulders while you reached for your clit. It only took a couple thrusts before you were writhing underneath him, calling out his name.

“Good girl,” he cooed. “Y/N, you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”

He kissed you tenderly then as you trembled in his arms. Your heart beating heavily in your chest, your breaths quickened, you held on tightly, urging him to continue.

“I’m so close already, love,” said Harry through his own heavy breaths. “You feel so fucking good.”

He slipped his arms underneath your back and cradled your neck in his hands. He stared at you as he sped up his thrusts, deep groans rising from his throat.

“Ahh fuck yeah…ohhhhh…” Harry buried his face in the crook of your neck as he emptied into the condom. When he lifted his head to look at you, you both chuckled.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“I know,” you smiled.

“That was so fucking good,” he commented before dropping his head again.

You ran your fingertips up and down his back soothingly, giving him a minute to come down. When he rolled off of you, he gave you an amazing smile, his eyes cute and squinty.

“Mind if I stay the night?” he asked.

“Definitely not,” you replied, reaching to touch his curls.

“Good. Because I’d like to do that again.”

taglist: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies, @cohnfusedarling, @heartateasee, @buckybarnessimpp, @behindmygreyeyes @carpiovanessa-blog @ottawaoutlander @fairytale07 @finelinepie @hisparentsgallerryy @mj-loves-rejjxxxx , @cherrymojitoo @fangirl7060 @kittenhere @ghoststyles @harryyloverrr @monicaalexandraaa @lovebittenbyevans @babegoalsreads @gurugirl @lillefroe @adorebeaa @daydreaming-laur @fkinavocado @nataylia13 @fruitmans @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @miraclealignertlsp369 @adoredeanna

i hope i didn't miss anyone! thank you all for reading, reblogging and commenting! it means the world to me!

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Injured On Purpose

masterlist

pairing: harry potter x female reader

warnings: just fluff, possibly obsessed harry, mentions of things like cuts/gashes and bruises, kissing

summary: you are a healer in training, one year older than harry, he keeps getting injured while you keep healing him. you start to wonder if he does it on purpose, to which you find your suspicions to be correct - requested by @ashdreams2023

a/n: i absolutely adore this idea!! thank you for sending it love xx (i also didn't know what age you wanted so i just made her a 7th year and him a 6th, hope that's ok :)

song: love me love me say that you love me - the travelling kisses

Harry knew he was done for when he first laid eyes on you in the infirmary.

He had gotten injured during one of his Quidditch matches. He had taken a nasty hit from a bludger.

When he arrived, he figured Madam Pomfrey would be the one to heal him as usual.

However, it was a pleasant surprise when he heard a soft voice and looked up to see a beautiful girl standing before him.

So beautiful that he had to take of his glasses and wipe them clean to make sure he was seeing correctly.

You were oblivious to his dreamy gaze as you scanned over his papers.

"Hello, Mr. Potter-"

"Harry, call me Harry," he quickly says.

"Okay Harry, I'm y/n," you smile at him.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he whispers under his breath.

"Sorry?"

"Oh- um- nothing," Harry blushes.

"Alright, well it seems that your shoulder had been broken. But don't worry, I'll be able to fix it right up in no time," you explain.

You take out your wand and some ointments.

You say some different spells for fixing any broken or cracked bones.

"Do you mind sliding your shirt down just a bit so I can rub this on the bruses?"

"N-no not at all," he stutters and slides it down.

"You are new here? In the hospital wing I mean," he asks as you rub the medicine on him.

"Mhm- well, not that new. I've been here for almost two months. But I want to be a healer when I get out of here, so some of my professors thought it would be helpful if I worked here first," you clarify.

"Oh, well that's brilliant if you ask me!"

"Thank you," you grin.

"What year are you?"

"I'm a seventh year, you're a sixth year right?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Merlin Ron, you should have seen her," he dramatically sighs.

"Harry, stop being all lovey-dovey," he wacks his best mate in the back of the head.

"But you don't understand. Her hair looks so soft- I think I'm in love," he falls back onto his bed.

"Blimey," Ron shakes his head.

When they went to dinner that night, he let his eyes roam the Great Hall in search for you.

Finally, his eyes landed on your angelic figure as you talked with some of your friends.

He hadn't realized he had been staring until he felt Hermione hit his arm with a book.

"Gosh Harry, I think your drooling," she rolls her eyes and goes back to reading.

He quickly brings his hand up to his mouth to check if Hermione was right. When he realized she was just messing with him he shakes his head and puts it on his hand, resting his elbow on the table.

"Harry, you only talked to her for like ten minutes," Ron glances at you.

"Yeah but it was the best ten minute conversation of my life," he runs a hand through his hair.

Since that day, Harry had purposely gotten injured from things like Quidditch, dueling, and any other things he could think of.

Why he did this, just so he can be sent to the infirmary to see you.

You had thought he showed up often because he was just a clumsy boy.

Over the visits you have grown to know each other well. You had become somewhat close.

Whenever Ron or Hermione told him that he should stop, he brushed it off by saying, "she's a pretty girl and a guy has got to do what hes got to do!"

He loved when you would have to rub any type of liniment on him, just to feel your warm and soft hands on his skin.

While you were busy writing things down, he would stare at your precious, pink, plump lips. He begged Merlin to one day be able to kiss those lips. He often dreamt about what it would be like as your boyfriend.

Today was another day where he had been hit with a spell that caused some gashes on his stomach.

He was laying in bed, waiting for his lovely healer to come in.

Soon enough, he sees you stroll through the doors as you make your way over to his bed.

"Harry Potter! What brings you here today," you greet with a bright smile playing on your lips.

"Hello, love, just some cuts on my stomach," he informs you.

You blush at the name and nod your head.

"Do you mind lifting your shirt for me?"

He happily complies and brings up his shirt, revealing his toned stomach to you. You tried your best not to look like you were checking him out, you were also glad no one else was in the room to notice.

"Oh Harry what happened," you gasp as your eyes land on the bloody wounds.

"Oh- uh- I was hit with a spell," he tells you.

"I'm sorry," you frown.

"No need to apologize"

"This might hurt a bit," you warn him as you get a medicine covered cloth to clean the injury.

You finish wiping his cuts and put a bandage over them. You sit in the chair that was next to his bed and look at him.

"You know, you come here at least twice a week," you start as he stares at your pretty eyes. "Is there any reason you are always getting hurt?"

"Oh- er, no, um..." Harry rubs his neck nervously as he suddenly avoids eye contact with you.

"You... you're not getting injured on purpose are you?"

"What?" Harry laughs nervously. "Of course not!"

Realization fills your head, it all makes sense now. Your friends told you he was always admiring you in the Great Hall, he always had a pink blush on his cheeks when you would look at him intensely, and you had heard him ranting to his friends over some girl.

You stand up and sit on the bed. "Are you sure there isn't another reason?"

"Well- umm- maybe there is one," he fidgets with fingers as he looks out the window.

"Yeah? And what would that reason be?"

"Isortakindafancyyou," he rushes out so fast you couldn't understand.

"I have no clue what you just said," you tilt your head with a small smile.

"I sorta kinda fancy you," Harry blushes as he looks you in your eyes.

"Do you now," you whisper as your face moves closer to his.

"Y-yeah," he mumbles while staring as you lips.

"Well, then I suppose you might want to know that I sorta kinda fancy you too," you say, glancing at his lips as well.

He can't take it any longer. He reaches a hand behind your neck and pulls your lips towards his.

He sits up while keeping your mouths connected. He cannot seem to get enough of your warm, soft lips.

His tongue slides into your mouth and you almost let out a moan from how passionate the kiss is.

Eventually, you slowly pull back, leaving his mouth trying to follow yours. Both of you are breathing heavy while wearing smiles.

"You are a great kisser," Harry says breathlessly.

"Not too bad yourself, Harry," you grin. "I'm sorry, I have to go, but we should do this again sometime," you stand up and go to turn around.

"Wait," he stays and he grabs your wrist gently. "Would you want to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime?" Harry kisses your hand.

"I would love to," you beam, bending down to peck his lips.

"Brilliant! How about this saturday?"

"Sounds perfect, bye Harry," you wave walking out of the room.

Harry licks his lips, wishing yours were on them again. He closes his eyes and falls back onto the pillows with a dreamy smile.

When Harry got back, Ron and Hermione never heard the end of it.

[verstappensseatcushion]

✩°｡⋆ pas de deux, ln4 ⋆｡°✩pt 4

part one part two part three

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

[face claim: luna montana is largely used as faceclaim but some other pinterest girlies in there too]

summary: y/n is new to monaco and quickly finds herself dancing with mclaren driver lando norris despite all intentions she has of focusing on only her career

a/n: i did not proof read so im so sorry if there's spelling mistakes at all! hope everyone had a happy holiday

y/n.ballet posted on their story

⟡⟡⟡

"i think some of the other drivers should be here soon," alex, charles girlfriend, says loudly over the music.

you've been out with charles and his friends for a few hours now, meeting for drinks at someone's yacht and now at a club that you can't remember the name of. alex has quickly become the person you're clinging to, as one of the only other girls out.

"oh! i didn't know anyone else was coming," you yell back. she shrugs and gets up to pull you along with her to the dancefloor.

when you return to the booth in the corner there are more guys at the table, all laughing to themselves as they take a round of shots. charles being the first to notice yours and alex's return goes to introduce you to the new arrivals.

"everyone this is y/n," his words slur together a bit, he then points to everyone, even the ones you've met already, and reintroduces them. "and lastly we have lando."

he looks familiar, and not just from seeing him on tv or in advertisements around monaco, but it's like you've met before.

⟡⟡⟡

y/n.ballet posted on their story

⟡⟡⟡

it's been at least an hour, and a few more drinks, since the other drivers met you guys at the club. you, alex, lando, and charles are sitting in the booth after everyone else abandoned the group for dancing. you've been sitting quietly, giggling with alex, as charles and lando go back and forth telling stories about each other.

alex leans towards charles, whispering something into his ear. he nods and then announces that they're gonna leave soon.

"i should leave too, its getting late i think," looking at your phone you see it's nearly 2am. you go to crawl out of the booth and stumble a bit trying to gain your balance. a hand reaches and grabs your arm steadying you.

"is someone taking you home?" lando asks looking down at you, hand still on your arm.

"that's a bit forward isn't it?"

"wha-oh, not like that, i mean how are you getting home," he sighs, "you're clearly drunk y/n, and no one in their right mind would let you get home alone."

giggling you try to touch both your fingers to your nose (not entirely correctly but the thought was there), "see not drunk im fine! plus i dont live far im just going to walk back to my apartment,"

"let me walk you?" he asks, moving his hand to the small of your back as he guides you to the exit.

...

"and tulip fever is why I like tulips so much, it's honestly one of the best movies I've ever watched," it's been about 20 minutes of you blabbering non-stop, walking through the middle of the street as lando follows you, "oh my god I walked into you the other day that's where I know you from! je le savais! I was on my way to classes and completely walked into you, im so sorry by the way. I can be so out of it someti-"

"breathe," lando cuts you off laughing, "I don't think you've stopped talking once since we left."

you blush with embarrassment, "I'm so sor-"

"don't apologize it's cute, I like it," he cuts you off again, "do you know where you're going, or have you just been walking down random roads hoping your apartment appears?"

you point at the building on the corner, "it's this building! I know where I'm going!"

"are you sure? because this the second time we've been on this street."

"yes I'm sure," you laugh, swatting at his chest.

he follows you as you enter the door code and walk up the stairs to your apartment door, "you coming in?" you ask.

"not tonight, just making sure the pretty girl made it home safely," he smiles, giving a half wave as he goes back down the stairs.

"goodnight lando."

"goodnight y/n."

⟡⟡⟡

y/n.ballet

liked by ybfusername, landonorris and 4,019 others.

y/n.ballet à propos de la nuit dernière 🌷

ybfusername you better be prepared to explain those flowers missy

username5 where's the dress from?? 😍

username2 gorgeous smile

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landonorris

liked by y/n.ballet, username3 and 320,872 others.

landonorris about last night 🕶

username1 that second pic omg

username3 DJ LANDOOOOO

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[jamesmydeer]

“Remus just kiss meeee,” you beg your boyfriend who was currently withholding kisses in the name of education. He just tsked at you and continued flicking through the notecards in his hand.

“Not until you get a question right.”

“We’ve been at this for hours Mus. I’m a lost cause. Just give up and kiss me already!”

Remus scoffs “We’ve hardly been at it for 30 minutes love. Besides, what kind of tutor would I be if I gave up on you, hm?

You pout and sink further into the bed. “I hope you don’t do this with everyone you tutor.”

Remus chuckles and finally tears his eyes away from the questions. “Just the ones who really need the extra help,” he quips, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You shove his shoulder and sit up. You turn so your body is facing him and prepare for a question.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this one. I feel it.”

Remus glances at you and then back at the cards, finally picking one he feels suitable to ask you. You think he’ll pick an easy one—he has to want a kiss too, right?

He shows you the front side of his flash card with some ancient runes scribbled across it in his messy handwriting. “What does this spell do?”

He studies your face as you study the writing. He smiles softly at your furrowed eyebrows. Any other time he would kiss the space between them, but he’s having far too much fun teasing you.

You finally come to a conclusion, albeit not a very confident one. You peak up at Remus and answer while crossing your fingers.

Remus bites his lip to contain his smile. He sets the card down and cups your cheeks in his hands. You grow giddy with anticipation as he leans in.

You scoot closer and lean forward, giving him a better angle. You place your hand on Remus’ thigh and close your eyes. His breath ghosts against your lips as he pauses.

“So close,” he whispers, pulling back and flipping the card around.

“Remus Lupin!” you grab a pillow from behind you and wack him with it, not even caring to check the card for the correct answer. Remus laughs loudly and blocks his face with his hands as you continue hitting him.

“You got it wrong! Hey! I was just trying to give you some-Ow!-encouragement!”

Remus grabs the pillow as you’re hitting him and tries to yank it away, pulling you with it. You fall on top of him in a fit of giggles. He looks up at you with so much love and smiles softly, pushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

You bring a hand up to the nape of Remus’ neck, playing with the soft tufts of hair. He closes his eyes in content and lets out a relaxed exhale. He leans up to meet your lips in a long awaited kiss.

When he is met with nothing but air, he peaks one eye open to see you looking down at him with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I didn’t answer a question correctly Remmy,” you tease, trying your best not to laugh. “What kind of tutor would you be if you gave up on me?”

Remus narrows his eyes at you and flips you over so he is on top.

“What spell opens locked doors?”

You giggle and roll your eyes. “That’s way too easy Mus.”

He whines and nudges his nose against yours. “Just answer the question.” You feel content knowing that he is just as needy as you are, so you decide to give in.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you whisper, “Alohamora.”

He wastes no time crashing his lips against yours.

[callsign-rogueone]

one for the books - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Scribe!Reader part of my Valentine’s Day Celly (better late than never?) words: 1.7k (got a little carried away here, oops) 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. scribe reader who is referred to as a woman one time, and has painted nails, but no pronouns used. just some meet-cute fluff with reader and Gare. love at first sight. it's weird writing him with anyone other than Angel, but I hope y'all will still like it anyway 🥺

Garrick wanders through the rows of bookshelves in search of someone who actually knows what they’re doing, so he won’t have to spend the entire day looking at the titles of every book in this massive library.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the only scribe who’d come with them to Aretia: Violet’s friend, Jesinia, who had helped them sneak into the Archives to get the journals. Who happens to be Deaf. He hadn’t thought about that part. 

He waves a hello, racking his brain for the letters of the alphabet and spelling out his request at a snail’s pace, hoping he’s moving his hands correctly. I… n-e-e-d…

Jesinia takes pity on him, holding up a hand to stop him and darting back into the maze of shelves, leaving him standing there thoroughly embarrassed -- he really needs to add “study sign” to his list of things to do after this whole wyvern thing is resolved and Tyrrendor is freed again. Whenever that will be.

He’s expecting her to come back with a pen and paper, so he can write it down, but she emerges thirty seconds later with another scribe in tow, one he’s never met before -- the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Jesinia gestures to you with a soft smile, and leaves.

He blinks once, twice, taking you in.

You’ve taken some creative liberties with the uniform, wearing the beige scribes’ robes open with a plain shirt and pants underneath, the hood down to expose your face and hair, a pair of glasses perched atop your head and a clipboard in hand, your nails long and painted a pale pink -- a few of them have started to chip, but it’s endearing; comforting to find a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect presence.

You’re equally entranced. The fortress is crawling with riders -- you’re one of maybe five students here who are anything else --  but this one in particular makes your heart race. 

It’s as if the gods pulled a knight from the pages of one of your fantasy novels and dropped him in front of you in this library; broad and tall, muscled and tattooed, two longswords strapped across his back… he’d be intimidating without the nervous smile on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks, the afternoon light coming through the windows and making him glow.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” you ask after a moment, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

The scar running down the side of his face moves as he speaks -- more quietly than you’d been expecting. “Riorson sent me; he wants everything you have about wards.”

You blow out a nervous breath. “Okay, uh… I’m still not totally sure how this library is organized, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We can look together, then,” he offers, giving you a knee-weakening smile.

You don’t know if you can spend the rest of your afternoon with this man and not make a complete fool of yourself, but you’ll just have to try your best. “Sounds like a plan.”

You realize you don’t know each other’s names, having been too busy staring at each other to make proper introductions.

“Garrick,” he offers, extending a hand to shake.

You’re really supposed to refer to him as Lieutenant, since he’s graduated and you haven’t, but you still repeat the word softly, trying it out. “Nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He already owes Xaden Riorson his life, but hearing you say his name, feeling the softness of your hand against his… he decides he’ll be in the boy’s debt well into the afterlife, too.

“I’ll start on one end, you on the other, and meet in the middle?” you ask. “Anything with wards, magic, or protection in the title would be a good start.”

He hums in acknowledgement, heading down to the end of the row.

“I haven’t been in here in ages,” he admits, scanning the rows of shelves for anything that could be useful. “I lived most of my life here before the revolution,” he adds quickly, explaining.

Small talk is good. You can do small talk.

“It must have been interesting growing up in a fortress like this,” you respond, too shy to ask him for his likely incredibly-tragic life story outright, and you’re technically on the job right now, so you should be focusing on the task at hand.

He picks another volume off the top shelf, keeping his feet flat on the ground and barely having to stretch for it. “It was. There were a few dozen of us kids around, always underfoot and meddling. We used to play hide and seek in here, and see how long we could stay before the scribes found us and kicked us out.”

You laugh, a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing. You may be a librarian, but you’re the polar opposite of the typical strict and stiff scribes he’s used to -- young and lovely and not afraid to laugh and talk among the books, to let them hear your voice and know that they’re appreciated. They’re lucky to have someone like you watching over them.

Since you’re grasping at straws here, you decide to cast a broad net and pull down anything that could be even a little bit helpful -- and you’re finding more than you’d thought, likely because the Tyrrish basically invented wards. 

You really should have brought a cart, but it’s no issue for him -- he’s holding at least ten thick volumes at once with complete ease.

“I got it,” he offers, shifting the tall stack he’s amassed into one arm and taking yours with the other. Seeing a man like him with an armful of books is hotter than it should be. Everything about him is hotter than it should be.

He sets the stack on the nearest table, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair before he sits down.

Your eyes linger on the relic winding around his arm like a plume of black smoke, contrasting against the pale muscle. You know it was intended as way to mark them as the descendants of those who had committed treason, to set them apart from their peers and to force them to enroll in the rider’s quadrant, but he looks like he didn’t have too much trouble in his days at Basgiath, if the two dozen patches on his flight jacket are any metric.

It suits him. He’d look incomplete without the relic and the thick scar on the side of his face. It would be rude to ask how he got it, but the curiosity still tugs at you. You want to know everything about him.

You realize you’re staring, and pull your eyes away as quickly as you can manage, worried that he’ll think you’re judging him -- though you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t on his side.

You each take a book off the top and crack it open, scanning for anything that could help. “Did he say anything more specific? Or why he needs this?”

“Nope. But he’s always been vague and mysterious, even when we were kids, before he had all those shadows following him around.”

“I’ve only seen him twice, but that sounds accurate.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “He may be all cold and broody all the time, but he’s a good guy. I’ve always considered him my best friend.”

You’re thinking of the best way to keep him talking when Jesinia knocks on the side of a nearby shelf to get your attention. Done with my transcribing. What’s next?

Thank you. You can leave for the day. 

Jesinia gives you a sly smile. You don’t want help? Or do you just want to be alone with him because you think he’s handsome?

She’d told you that Garrick’s sign was rusty, that he could only fingerspell, but you still turn away from him as you respond, praying he didn’t understand what she just said. 

Two can play at this game. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is that redhead boy who keeps coming by to talk to you? I’m sure he’d like to see you for another sign lesson tonight.

She reddens, realizing you know about her crush on the rider, and bails out of the conversation while she still can. Goodnight!

There’s that lovely laugh again as you turn back to him, seeing him watching you -- now you really hope he didn’t understand. He quickly returns his gaze to the book in front of him, which definitely isn’t modern Navarrian or any of the other languages you know. It must be Tyrrish.

“You can read this?” you ask with rapt curiosity, leaning forward to take a better look at it.

“About every fifth word or so,” he answers. “There aren’t many fluent speakers left, since it was outlawed decades ago and kids aren’t taught it in school. I don’t see the symbol for “wards” anywhere, but that might be too obvious.”

“No language should ever be outlawed,” you respond, perhaps a little too hotly. “There must be so much valuable information that was lost in translation or destroyed entirely after the wars. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a scribe, to try to save as much as I could. But so many of the texts in the Archives have been translated over and over, and I can’t help but wonder if some things were left out on purpose.”

Another smile. “Well-said. Into the “maybe” pile, then?”

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you realize how long you’d been talking. “That’s the only pile we have,” you sigh, stretching. 

He’d shown up around four, and it’s nearing seven now, your body automatically responding to the hour and telling you to pack things up, but that’s one of the nicest things about the library here -- unlike the Archives at Basgiath, you can work here through the night, and not be booted out at seven on the dot.

You’d asked the Lieutenant Colonel about it when he’d come by one day, and he’d told you there wasn’t any sort of magical time-sealing-lock on the library, just a normal wooden door charmed to be fireproof -- so you’d stayed in one of the armchairs until midnight reading, just because you could.

“Well,” he offers, “I know it’s a grave sin to eat in the library, so how about we take a break, get ourselves some dinner, and pick this back up after?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that a lot.”

[renshengs]

i just think if you are going to get really passionate about any deeply cultural show with distinctive ethnic names, and you are going to be so passionate about it, in fact, that you are going to consistently post about it in a public space for other people to see and/or you're going to write fanfiction about it, then you should at least make an effort to correctly spell the characters' names and know how to refer to them.

while fandom spaces are indeed for your personal enjoyment, there is a willful ignorance in the way a lot of people navigate fandoms surrounding media that is more culturally alien to them that reflects their subconscious unwillingness to take these cultural differences and intricacies into consideration. in my post's case, as i am chinese and am frequently in fandoms for chinese media, i can only speak on the fandom etiquette around names from shows that are generally more popular in english-speaking circles, like word of honor, the untamed, etc. and to be completely straightforward i think the name and terminology butchering has been pretty bad with some fandoms and absolutely unbearable in others.

"but i'm bad with names/i'm bad at spelling!" i can empathize. but i think making excuses is also a terribly avoidant thing to do. type with more care. find a method that works for you. the cultural context is crucial to the show and its characters; why are you here if you don't care about it? and yes, not paying mind to name usage is absolutely an ignorant thing to do, even if you are doing it unintentionally. obviously, spelling a name wrong does not indicate you are someone with that kind of prejudice, but not making any effort to get it right is irresponsible and insensitive, especially considering that native english speakers in the west have an extensive history of being dismissive and rude toward ethnic names, chinese ones included.

lastly, because this website has a victim complex that almost rivals twitter's:

the aim of this post isn't to imply that anyone who misuses or misspells names are bad people who should be witchhunted and torn apart (nor am i going to do that, which is why i am making a post about it), or that people who have dyslexia and other disability issues with reading & spelling accurately just need to "get better" (see: "find a method that works for you"). typos are not morally wrong & my point is not to shame anyone. i just hope people can find it in themselves to reevaluate their own stubbornness and just—learn to tread with more care. to treat these stories and their characters with the consideration that they already give to the media they're most familiar with, and to approach the cultural learning curve with willingness, or else just don't engage with such things at all if you are not able to understand that to enjoy them fully and deeply requires you to actually interact with the cultural context in which they were created.

[stereax]

spill the controversial deeply-held opinion(s)?

every time someone makes fun of a hockey player's name, an angel loses its wings.

very often, I want to say the strong majority of the time, when I see posts like "this player can't be real with a name like that" or "that's not a real name", the name in question is simply Not Anglo-American. just pulling from memory, people are saying names like Zeev Buium (name origin: Hebrew), Arber Xhekaj (name origin: Albanian/Kosovar), Zemgus Girgensons (name origin: Latvian), Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen (name origin: Finnish), and Ivan Miroshnichenko (name origin: Russian) are "fake" names, "NPC" names, or "Japanese baseball" names (after the infamous "Fighting Baseball" game where a dev had to make up a bunch of fake names on the spot). I hope I don't need to point out how this is often xenophobic. I don't think most people are actively aware that they're perpetuating xenophobic thinking when they do this, they just go haha name funny, but ultimately this can be deeply xenophobic.

maybe I see it differently than others - but I'm half-Polish, and as long as I can remember, my Polish family and friends' names have been butchered by (usually) English-speaking Americans, often with snide comments on the side about "are you sure this is your name?" and "this is spelled correctly?" to really rub it in. often enough, this ends with the Pole anglicizing their own name so it "doesn't cause any more problems" - Katarzyna becomes Kate, Grzegorz becomes Greg, Mariusz becomes Mark, Zuzanna becomes Sue. god forbid you have a name like Czesława or Bogdan, where you'll either go by a name like Jessie or Danny (which aren't at all related to the original name) or just get mispronounced forever. oh, and by the way, if you've noticed, almost all of these names turn into diminutives. I'll leave you to think about why.

you probably don't know who Teodors Bļugers is. that's because he anglicized his name to Teddy Blueger so it wouldn't cause problems for announcers. on the Cup, his name is spelled Teddy Blueger, not Teodors Bļugers.

...even when the name is "normal" (think Jason Robertson, Robert Thomas, Jake Bean, Will Smith), making fun of it is a dick move. you're essentially telling someone that their name isn't real - that a core part of their identity must be fabricated because it "sounds funny" to you. and yes, the fourth wall exists and hockey players won't (or at least shouldn't) be on tumblr reading your posts, but people who are from these cultures or have similar names likely will be. and it's they who are being told, because your name does not fit our criteria, it is not a real name. (plus, while tumblr is relatively safe from fourth-wall breaches, other social media such as twitter is infamous for having hockey player burners on them. if Patrik Laine can find and like posts calling him a bust, you best believe players can find and read your opinions online.)

does that make sense?

[maiden-of-the-waters]

Sparks and Showers Part 1

//My first attempt at writing for @tunadunanana ‘s OC, the Phoenix Maiden, affectionately named Birdie. Tuna, this story turned out so much longer than I was expecting and planning, I really hope I did your Birdie correctly because this is a lot of writing for her to be completely out of character 🤣🤣 if she is I do apologize.

This is a SFW story, no warnings, not proofread to do forgive any spelling errors; MOD//

Summary;

The Journey has been complete, Battles won, and Memories restored. Birdie and the Newly Awaken & Reincarnated Sun Wukong are making their way back to their home mountain of flowers and fruit. But when they stop to rest, the creatures of the forest make it hard to relax.

——————————————————

🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜

——————————————————

Time can be a beautiful thing when it runs in your favor. And it can be painful when it is against you.

That was a world defining truth that Birdie had come to know incredibly intimately.

Matters of the heart usually fought with Time you see, clashing in the worst of ways. Days seem to stretch for far too long with the Heart was grieving, and when the heart was at its happiest time flew faster than any falcon.

During the final battle the Destined One had had with the stone shell of the king who had once unknowingly held her heart, Birdie wished time could fly faster, to get past this awful moment.

The irony wasn’t lost upon the Phoenix Maiden that not even hours earlier, when they were bantering back and forth, she had wished time could slow… just a bit. The maiden setting aside her pain at seeing her dear friend in the face of this stranger who had become her friend as well,

But there were also occasions when time seemed to slow in the good moments as well.

After that previously mentioned battle for example; When the dust had settled, when that radiant light that was oh so familiar faded, when the elderly monkey that held that awful awful headband took a step back, when she saw her friend’s own head still free of that golden chain….

When he stood up…

When he turned to look at her when she took a hesitant step forward… and recognition flashed.

“Birdie?” His eyes widened and he smiled.

Birdie felt her breath catch in her lungs as - for the first time in hundreds of years - she allowed herself to hope…

Because that smile - oh that smile - that was His…

Time slowed as she took a few steps closer. The wings of hope spreading ever wider in her chest. The pair took each other in.

“Wukong?” Her voice, usually so melodic and sweet, cracked under the force of the emotions that were cascading through her. Part of her was scared to make a noise, to break this fragile moment in fear that it was just some cruel illusion, another dirty trick from the gods.

This Wukong, who carried himself the same, still standing in that familiar way that favored the hip opposite of his Staff… the familiar way his tail barely moved as he was taking something in… it was all Him… but there was a look in his eye that was a bit… unfamiliar… Older, wiser? Only that capricious Time would be able to tell….

But, this Wukong took a slow step forward, Helping the Phoenix Maiden close the distance just a bit more… and let out a soft Hooting Chirp, a curious sound… a question?

It was such a little sound…

But it caused the Phoenix Maiden to drop her Bow, Arrows and her Bag into the water uncaringly as her brought her hands to her mouth to cover the Sobs that shook her body. Every dam within her breaking as emotions surged forward, overtaking her in an overwhelming force.

He was back! It was Him! He was Back!

She ran to close that distance as he reached forward to receive her. And they shared an embrace so tight that no force on heaven or earth could’ve separated them in that moment.

They clung to each other desperately, afraid to let the other go in fear that this was all a perfect dream.

But Wukong was the first to feel relief course through him as he felt her tears soaking his fur on the side of neck… because never, not even in his unconscious and hibernative state, had he ever imagined her crying in such a way. And he knew this was real.

He held her tighter to him, wrapping his arms around her in a force that tried to shield her from everything, to keep her secure even as she fell apart.

As for the Phoenix Maiden,

The sweet woman with such joyful colors that mocked her ever mourning being, the woman who wore loyalty on her skin and her heart on her sleeve even as the world around her crumbled, the woman who began this journey to give herself closure and possibly make peace knowing her dearest friend had gone before she could tell him how she felt and the feelings she held - Because why rush to spill your heart when you were supposed to have eternity?

For the first time in Hundreds of years… the Tears she were shedding, the sobs that were making her tremble…

They weren’t of grief.

—————————————————

🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜

—————————————————

The next couple days were a joyful blur for the Phoenix Maiden, reconnecting with her dear monkey, speaking the words in her heart that she never had a chance to say before. The absolute joy at hearing him accept her feelings and validate them by matching them with his own.

There were many talks of expectations, of what they desired from one another, the fears they carried, the love they had, the future they wanted… but alas those stories cannot be told here, for they were private and for each others ears only.

And of course, not all moments were good. You see, the trauma they had gone through didn’t magically disappear with the presence of the other.

Poor Birdie was reminded of this first hand when she had a nightmare of her world being over again. Dreamed of blood on her hands, desperately reaching for a body that was always just out of reach. No one responding as she screamed for help.

When Wukong had finally able to shake her awake from that unconscious horror, she had clung to him for hours, her cheek against his chest, her ears focused on the steady beating of his heart. The pair holding each other until her trembles faded and a dreamless sleep swept her up once more.

Sun Wukong wasn’t spared either. (Though one could argue seeing his dear friend be tormented so was torture enough.)

No, the immortal monkey king too had bad dreams, though his weren’t always at night. As he settled into this new body and the memories it held before he returned, the Great Sage now found himself plagued with visions and hallucinations as past and future clashed in his mind.

Both the present body and his past mind struggling to find their equilibrium, his Yin and Yang out of balance.

Visions of being defeated, his body being torn apart, Phantom Pains leaving him resting his head in the Phoenix Maiden’s lap as she attempted to sing away the pain that had long since passed, past battles with modern foes, voices on the wind that mimicked his people but were wrong, illusions of a weapon or claw about to strike his side before fading before the hit could land. He would turn and snarl at the sound of an enemy to find it was only empty air.

He had forced himself back into his meditations and his more Buddhist mindset in an attempt to force the Equilibrium to settle when he went to go attack an enemy only for that enemy to turn into his precious Birdie before his Cudgel had a chance to land its hit.

That moment had been a reality check for both of them. Wukong may be back… but he was still very much not at his 100 just yet…

It helped that Birdie was so supportive of him, gently taking his hands when he flinched away from her, telling him in that melodic voice of hers that, They just needed to take it slow, these things take time. Besides, they finally had forever. Wounds would heal, the nightmares would fade.

It was that night that they decided to start making their journey back to Mount Huaguo, that beautiful Paradise of Flowers and Fruit. “After all!” Sun Wukong had spoken, his fur puffed in joy and anticipation. “What better place to heal the mind than my paradise on earth! Besides, I believe their handsome king has been absent for long enough.”

He felt himself puff up more with pride when his words brought a smile to his Birdie’s lips.

—————————————————

🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜

—————————————————

This is how we find ourselves where we currently are at within the story my dear readers.

As both Sun Wukong and the Phoenix Maiden are beings capable of flight, the pair crossed an impressive distance of land in a relatively short amount of time. Neither had any doubt that if Birdie had clung to Wukong on his jīndǒu yún cloud, (筋斗云) they could make it back to Mount Huaguo in a day, if not a handful of hours.

However they both came to an agreement that with it being as long as it had been, it’d be wise to move at a more leisurely pace - even if from the air - so that Wukong could familiarize himself with how the land had changed. At the pace they were going, the trip would take 3 days and 2 nights back to their beloved mountain.

Everything went smooth the first day and night. The second day say they were forced to slow because of winds that were blowing against them. Birdie beating her wings twice as hard to move forward against the breeze. Wukong stayed a bit behind her to catch if it was needed.

But Birdie took it with good humor, giggling that that flight had been the best workout she’s had in years!

That brings us to where we are tonight:

“It is good that we arrive back at the Mountain tomorrow,” Birdie hummed as she opened her bag and took out two generously sized Mangos and a bag of tree nuts from a cashe Zhu Baije had gifted to them before they departed. “This is the last of it, we may need to forage for lunch tomorrow…”

Sun Wukong nodded as he grabbed the mango and stoking the fire they sat by to warm themselves and their clothes before they went to rest in the trees for the night.. “Hmm… unless we want to agree that taking it at a leisure pace was a silly notion and we just use my jīndǒu yún to cross that meager distance before our bellies have a chance to complain?”

“Sun Wukong!” Birdie gasped, a playful gleam in her eyes, “Am I to hear that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven can’t handle roughing it any longer? What does the Handsome Monkey King miss his pillows?”

“Blasphemous! You dare to insinuate that This great King can’t handle a bit of dirt?! Better to wish to avoid dirt than be dragged back to the earth like a waterlogged pigeon because of some wind!” Sun Wukong leaned forward as he accepted her invitation to play, a relief warming his chest to have confirmation once again that the years didn’t take this game of theirs away.

“Even Pigeons can keep themselves pristine and well groomed! How many pebbles and rock clumps have I had to untangle from your fur since your return you wretched Stone Monkey! Perhaps we should go ahead so the denizens of the mountain can run you a bath and line up to groom you properly!” She narrowed her eyes with a grin, but also carefully watching for his reaction, remembering how important troop grooming sessions were for his kind.

But there was no insult in his eyes, only mirth as he matched her grin. “Brave woman! Brave indeed! You voice so easily on my stone nature but tease me for wanting to stay away from the floor in which entangles those clumps in my fur! Dare I say you are contradicting yourself?”

The Phoenix Maiden leans in close and settles herself against him in a motion Sun Wukong doesn’t trust one bit, not while they’re within the game, but he enjoys her proximity too much to push her away. That’s before Birdie leans her head against his shoulder and innocently entangles her fingers in his fur at the base of his neck, taking care not to snag the fur.

“Oh Wukong…. Should I gather some soft moss for you to rest your royal head? I’d hate for you to crimp your neck at your impressive age.” From where she sits, Wukong can’t see her face, but he doesn’t have see it to know she’s holding in laughter from the way her shoulder shook, to how her tone is pitched.

Wukong made an aghast sound from his chest as he playfully grabbed the woman beside him making her finally release her laughter as she squealed and attempted to get away from his tickling hands.

The Phoenix Maiden didn’t realize until too late Wukong’s dastardly plan as he took them to the forest floor as they tumbled around each other in their game.

That was, until Birdie’s hand brushed against something in her hair….

Was that… a twig? Leaves?

Realization dawned as she shoved a Cackling Wukong away to take stock of her appearance.

“Oh you didn’t! WUKONG!” She was covered in Leaves, Twigs, Dirt… and those Rock Clumps. She looked a right mess, and thoroughly tumbled.

The smug Monkey King laughed even harder, the force of it making him loose his footing and nearly causing him to fall into the fire. “Don’t worry! Don’t worry! I’m sure once we get back to the mountain, the denizens will run you a bath and line up to groom you!”

He laughed harder as he threw her words back at her.

She succeeded in untangling a stick from her hair and proceeded to throw it at the furry Stone Menace, causing him to wheeze as he gripped his sides.

Birdie attempted to pretend to be stern before she fell into laughter as well. What could she do? Sun Wukong’s joy had always been infectious.

——————

The joy and mirth of the moment came to an abrupt end when Wukong froze and was suddenly on his feet, staring unblinkingly into the forest, his stance tense.

“Do you hear that my Birdie?” His voice was softer now, barely above a whisper.

Birdie felt her heart sink in her chest a bit as she slowly got to her feet and took a step back, running on the assumption it was another invisible enemy that often plagued his mind, and readying herself to jump into the trees should a one-sided battle commence.

“Wukong, I don’t-“ the snap of a branch cut her off as she froze as well, turning her head to look in the direction the sound came from… and it was only then she realized how silent the woods had become. “Yes. Yes I heard that.”

She grabbed her bow and notched an arrow, flexing her wings to become airborne at the first sense of true danger.

More rustling and the sounds of large trunks snapping made them both tense further in readiness for whatever they were about to face.

Just when the Stone Monkey was about to activate his gold vision, a blast of fire and molten rock shot at him as a horrible screech shot through the trees. Officially breaking the otherwise eerie silence. He only barely moved out of the way in time, the smell of singed fur quickly filling the air.

Birdie yelped as the molten rock landed next to her foot as she jumped into the air with a single beat of her wings and took a shot in the direction of where the attack had come from.

Another awful screech rang out, letting Birdie know her blind shot had landed.

There was a burst of movement as the awful beast finally revealed itself. A giant Róngyán xīyì (熔岩蜥蜴) ((Lava Lizard)) at least 16 heads long burst forward. It’s wide mouth open, attempting to swallow one or both of the travelers but missing them both.

Its movements were heavy, clumsy and uncoordinated. Its large and burning eyes nictated as it moved its head around looking for where its prey had gone. It’s fat Tail lashing and trying to rid itself of the arrow sticking out of it. Rumbling with dissatisfaction.

Both Wukong - from his place hiding in the brush, and Birdie - from her spot in the trees stayed quiet, hoping the beast would move on. The Lizard was larger than the xīyì usually came. They were supposed to grow no larger than a forearm.

And they usually stuck to the Volcanes of the North. It was a long way from home and clearly was a successful hunter if its size was anything to go by. Though, despite its size, it clearly wasn’t a wise creature, clearly it wasn’t capable of speech or hadn’t any power to achieve transformations. It was simply another predator like a tiger or an alligator.

The xīyì curled its head back as it curled its tail up, almost making itself into a ball before its blackened charcoaled scales began to rattle and steam and the pink of its belly glow before its golden throat and cheeks bulged. And it just so happened to be in the direction Wukong was hiding.

“WUKONG! GO HIGH!” Birdie shouted as she took another shot. It found its home in the xīyì’s Shoulder as the creature screeched once more. Spewing a torrent of fire and molten rock out of its gullet. The spray going a considerable distance as Wukong shot upwards with his cudgel to avoid the attack

The xīyì twisted its body around rapidly as it continued to empty its gullet. The area quickly becoming encased in flame as the thick slag stuck to the tree and ignited them.

The Phoenix maiden felt her eyes begin to burn and her throat itch as smoke blew in her face. She began to cough as she beat her wings to move the smoke away and push herself higher into the air.

Wukong snarled and bared his teeth. “Bothersome Beast! I shall make your hide into an armored Tunic! Watch as I end this!”

Twisting around, he brought up his cudgel and flipped it so it was above him, using his strength to bring it down with a force that cracked the earth. Flattening the creatures head, the Róngyán xīyì’s body going still.

He landed on the ground next to it, and kicked it in irritation. “A good armored Tunic indeed! I should’ve left your eyes! Gave you a last look at the mess you caused!”

“Wukong,” Birdie raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that poor creature is hearing you anymore.” She then looks around as anxiety starts to build within her chest. “This forest is going to burn, what do we do?”

Indeed the fire was spreading fast. The dryness of the wood combined with the strong winds working in tandem to turn the steady blaze into a raging inferno.

“Bah!” Wukong shrugged away her worries as he finished skinning the beast and folding away the pelt carefully to be turned into its tunic later. “We can fly above it Birdie. It won’t harm us.”

Birdie scowled. “Wukong, the denizens of the forest can’t all fly. We can’t just leave them to burn.” She points at a bird nest in the distance with three far-too-young chicks to prove her point.

Wukong thinks for a bit. “Very well, grab the nest with the babes, we will take them with-“

“Wukong!”

“Fine! I’ll go have the dragons send a-ACK!” He flinched and turned his head down as a raindrop found its place in his eye. A few more raindrops fell against Birdie’s cheeks and Wukong’s head before the rain steadily became heavier and heavier.

The rain felt warm, and to Birdie, incredibly familiar as the sweet smell of fresh water, ozone and flowers filled the area.

Raising a hand to protect her eyes she looked up at the rain cloud that had snuck up on them and saw the vague outlined shape of a woman in the clouds, her hair fading and falling as the rain that was now smothering the flames.

Birdie feels herself start to smile and her emotions rise into her throat as she’s almost sure that the woman - Her dear sister who had stood by her through everything - looks at her with a reassuring smile before her head turns away, her body sways, and she fades into a cloud once more… vanishing with the gentle sound of a distant rolling thunder.

“Wukong… did you see her?” Her voice soft and gentle. Still shielding her eyes as she looked up at the clouds to see if She was still up there, but she was gone. Moved on, giving her sister the privacy she had promised her so long ago when Birdie had first left for this journey.

Wukong was rubbing his eye from the liquid smack he had undeservingly received, and gave his body a good shake to rid himself of water that was soaking him. Taking one of his hairs, transforming it into a large umbrella, he grabbed Birdie and dragged her closer to him to join him in his jīndǒu yúnas to relieve her wings the stress of flying in the rain.

He shook his head as he felt her settle next to him. “No… I didn’t see her. Who? The Pearl Girl?”

Birdie rolled her eyes and gave his chest a weak smack even as she got closer to warm herself with his heat. “Wukong be respectful, she’s our sworn sister. She has been truly a support for me these past couple hundred years.”

Wukong grumbled but adjusted his body to hold her. “I don’t know how she has still fooled heaven into thinking she’s some peaceful ‘Tranquil Lady’. She’s peacefully shoved water up my nose and in my ear for a innocent prank more times than I care to remember!”

Birdie laughs as his words bring up multiple memories of the various ways Wukong would try to elicit some emotional reaction out of her otherwise non-reactive friend when they were still on their great journey to retrieve the Tripitaka Scriptures. And only succeeded in getting a physical response instead.

The phantom sounds of him cussing and sputtering and hacking while Zhu Baije laughed filled her ears. The Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ’s only emotional reaction would be the slightest of a glare and eyebrow twitch before she went back to drinking her tea and the conversation she usually had with Birdie or Sha Wujing on the occasions she was summoned to assist the pilgrims.

Birdie leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “You usually deserved it, you were awful. Constantly poking and prodding at her when she had taken to time to come and help us.”

Wukong huffed out a laugh. “She always had this calm demeanor even when she was angry or irritated underneath. I was simply helping her express her emotions.” He remembered the one time he had seen her punish and execute the Bā tuófēng yěmán rén, that sort of calm rage wasn’t healthy for anyone. Especially not for a woman with the power to inadvertently make it everyone else’s problem.

Yes, Wukong thought to himself. He was justified in his needling and pranks towards the princess. Because he knew he’d been awful and annoying. Usually ever on his worst behavior when that pearl maiden was around, going just far enough to not have his master punish him with that blasted headband.

Because it allowed her to release those emotions she usually kept so bottled up, giving them an outlet that wasn’t a violent storm or a deadly riptide.

Truly, he deserved more appreciation. The great and handsome monkey king didn’t have to go out of his way, but he did for the sake of his friends.

Birdie laughed at his pouting face as she gave him a kiss on the cheek to sooth him. “Well you could’ve told her that rather than being so… You about the whole thing.”

Wukong pouted then chuckled in agreement. Indeed he had been awful. But it was fun. He began to have his jīndǒu yúnas take them out of the storm’s path and to a dryer area to listen to the rain from a distance and get some rest before they finished their journey at sunrise.

The Phoenix Maiden sighed as she watched the rain and distant thunder. It had grown to become her favorite sound when she was at the sea side palace. “It will be good to get back… I miss her. We have so many stories we have to share with our sister.”

It was a murmured statement, perhaps not something she realized she spoke aloud. But Wukong heard her all the same. She looked up at him and said in a more clear voice. “When we get back we need to come up with a ‘thank you’ gift for her. She made sure the mountain stayed protected and the damage was healed, along with keeping your citizens safe after… you…” her voice trails off and her face falls a bit before she hugs Wukong again.

“Never do that again…” It was an order.

“It’s okay Birdie… I don’t plan to go anywhere. I’m back for good this time.” He promised as he held her closer.

They stayed like that until the last of the distant glows of the fire went out, the forest safe and protected once more.

Wukong thinking all the while.

He had been gone for a while, and his Birdie - Because she was his now, she had given her heart to him and he had no intentions of returning it - had clearly become attached to their sworn sister, that infuriating pearl maiden. And now he learns she had also kept his home and people safe in his absence?

He nodded, pleased. His sworn younger sister was infuriating, but he would never say she wasn’t driven and loyal. He would think of a reward for her. And Birdie wanted to see her…

Then a thought struck him as he jumped up with the startled Phoenix Maiden in his arms. The poor woman letting out a yelp at sudden movement.

“An Idea! I’ve been struck with a great idea!” Wukong hooted as he jumped down onto a tree and carefully sat Birdie down, wrapping the fresh pelt around her shoulders to keep her warm. “Make up a camp! I shall be back soon!” Transforming a couple of his furs to make them into camping supplies, replacing what they had lost to the flames.

“Wha-Wukong!? Where are you going!?” Birdie sputtered as she fumbled with the objects that were shoved in her arms.

“A surprise Birdie! I go to grab a surprise!” Wukong beamed down at her before speeding off. Going to greet his infuriating Sworn Sister of the waters.

When we next meet, we shall see how that interaction goes.

———

PART 2 is out.

Read it Here

Taglist;

@tunadunanana @szynkaaa @bottyshaker-900o @marcu-bug

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! 😁

[lowkeyhollland]

it'll be a wednesday

peter parker x reader "it'll be a wednesday & i'll be going into this coffee shop" can u tell i have a coffee addiction

Peter groaned when he accidentally spilled an iced coffee behind the counter. He grabbed paper towels to clean up the majority of the beverage on the floor before grabbing a mop to clean up the rest of the area. The bell above the door rang and Peter mentally sighed. His morning wasn’t off to the best start; a spilled coffee, ten minutes late to his shift, and now it felt like a morning rush. 

“Hi, welcome in,” his voice trailed off once his eyes landed on you. You smiled acknowledging him before reading their menu. 

He patiently waited by the register for when you were ready but couldn’t help but stare; at how your head was slightly tilted to the side causing your hair to fall over your shoulders, messing with the case on your phone, popping it in and out of its place. Peter ignored the other customers who had walked in shortly after you, taking their orders on autopilot. He watched as your eyes lit up when you read their seasonal drink special and walked a few steps forward, your eyes still locked on the menu so you knew you couldn’t mess up your order. 

“What can I get started for you?” Peter followed his unofficial official script. 

“Uh, hi! Could I get a medium iced Nutella latte, please?” Your voice was hypnotic to the brunette boy. He thought he could listen to you talk all day for the rest of his life.  

“And what’s the name?” He took out a Sharpie and wrote down ‘16 oz. iced Nutella’ on the plastic cup. 

“Y/n.” He smiled at the name as you watched him write it down, even smiling to yourself when he spelled it correctly. 

“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have that right out for you.” He walked away after you paid and you found a table off to the side to sit at while you waited. 

This was your first time in this coffee shop, and you are still trying out new places. You took the whole place in; the warm fairy lights hung around the building, the cream-colored walls with local artists’ paintings, couches in the corner with games on a coffee table for others to play. 

Peter called out your name, a small blush crept onto his cheeks when he saw you walking towards him. He knew it meant nothing, you were just another customer. But oh how he wanted to see you shyly walk toward him with a smile on your face every day. 

“Thank you…” your voice trailed off, eyes scanning anywhere for a name tag. 

“Peter!” He beamed. 

“Thank you, Peter,” you smiled at him one last time before grabbing a straw and walking away. “Have a nice day!” You yelled as you walked out the door, causing butterflies to stir in Peter’s stomach. 

His day just got so much better. 

– – –

It had been a week since you had walked into Peter’s coffee shop. He had lost hope that you would ever show again making up scenarios on why you never came back, but he knew this was delusion at its finest. 

It was early afternoon and the morning rush had finally died down. Peter was in the middle of making a matcha when he heard the bell ring. He looked up for a quick second and caught a glimpse of your hair. 

“Uhhh matcha for… Ashley!” Peter’s eyes flickered between the drink in his hands and you, barely able to read the name. 

“Thanks, cutie,” a blonde girl walked up to Peter, winking at him as she took her drink out of his hands, fingers slightly brushing up against each other. Peter’s ears turned pink at the nickname, giving her a polite smile. 

“You’re welcome.”

“So, when are you off? I’d love to get to know you more.” Ashley was eyeing Peter up and down while he shifted uncomfortably. 

“I’m not so sure, just, you know… whenever?” The blonde girl gave Peter a weird look.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you around, handsome.” Ashley spun on her heel and walked out, the bell ringing above her. Peter exhaled and wiped away sweat he didn’t even know was there. 

“So, are you that bad at flirting or are you too nice to tell someone you’re taken?” You asked Peter once he was in front of you. His face turned red, smiling & looking down at his shoes to hide his face. 

“I- uh- just wasn’t interested.” 

“So, bad at flirting.” You smirked at the brown-eyed boy noticing how red his face was getting from, what you assumed was, embarrassment. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he playfully rolled his eyes and you giggled. “So, what can I get for you today?” 

“An iced Nutella latte, please!” Peter’s face lit up as he recognized your order from last time. 

“Medium?”

“Yes, please.” 

“And what was the name?” It was Y/n. Peter already knew because that name had been ringing in his head for the last seven days. He wrote it down as you responded to him, doodling a little smiley face next to it. 

Peter quickly got started on making your drink, looking back at you now and then. You looked up from your phone when he called your name, walking towards the boy with a smile on your face. 

“Thank you so much, Peter!” You exclaimed while his ears turned pink when you remembered his name. 

“Y-You’re welcome, Y/n.” Peter grinned, noticing you remembered his name. He watched you walk away, but you quickly turned to face him. 

“Oh also,” you started and Peter leaned in. “How late are you guys open?” 

“Are you flirting with me?” You let out a laugh at his response. 

“No, you’d know if I was flirting with you,” you smirked at him. Though he hates to admit it, his heart broke a little when you confirmed you were not. “I just love the atmosphere here. It’s great for studying.” You continued to smile at the boy.

“We’re open till midnight.”

“Really?! Why so late?” Peter shrugged. 

“I’ve never really thought about it. I’m guessing it’s cause we’re in a college town, which gives students a nice place to study and do group projects.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you around, Peter.” You winked at him before walking away and his cheeks flushed pink. 

– – –

The next couple of weeks, you came into the coffee shop often. Conveniently, Peter had been working most of the time you came. He had your order memorized like the back of his hand, but sometimes you would take him by surprise and order a muffin or a bagel. 

The bell rang and he smiled when he saw you walk in. It was his favorite part of all of his shifts. Sure, he had a few regulars that he loved talking to, but the small talk between the two of you has slowly made its way to one of the favorite things he looks forward to nearly every day. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/n!” Peter beamed. 

“Hello!” You smiled brightly at him, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater. 

“The usual?” 

“Yes, please.” Peter put in your order, doodling another smiley next to your name on the cup. He took you in as you tapped your phone on the card reader. 

“I like your outfit.” He complimented. It wasn’t anything much, just an oversized cream-knitted sweater with a short denim skirt paired with brown high-top Converse. You shyly smiled and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, a small blush painted across your cheeks. 

“Thanks. This skirt just came in the mail today, I hope it isn’t too short.” You pulled it down a little even though your backpack was hung low enough to hide anything. 

“It’s cute, I love it.” Peter smiled as he continued to stare at you. He started to think about how if he finally had the balls to just ask for your number. The outfit you would wear if he took you out on a date during this fall season like for a pumpkin patch or even a haunted house. Would you lean into him when you cold—

“So… my drink?” You asked, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Oh! Right, right. Uh, I’ll get started on it.” You giggled at how flustered Peter was when he almost dropped the empty cup. 

“You are fucking delusional,” Peter mumbled to himself as he made your drink. 

You found a table near a window to get started on some homework. You set up your computer and notebook, put on headphones, and started on your homework. Indulged in your work, you didn’t hear your name being called and practically jumped out of your seat when Peter tapped you on the shoulder. 

“Holy shit you scared the crap out of me,” you exclaimed. Peter laughed and set your drink down. 

“Next time, maybe don’t be blasting Red by Taylor Swift.” Your face flushed as red as the cover of the album. 

“How did you…?” 

“I could hear it. You know, you can destroy your eardrums by playing music that loudly.”

“And you know I simply do not care.” You smiled smugly at the boy and he just laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re wearing hearing aids at 40.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the smirk plastered on his face. “Enjoy your latte!” When he walked away, yelled back at you leaving you a smiling mess. 

A few hours had gone by and you were still hunched over your homework. A yawn escaped your mouth causing you to drop your pen, laying your head on your arms on the table. You felt someone nudge your arm so you looked up only to be met with chocolate brown eyes. You took off your headphones and gave him a confused look. 

“Here, on the house.” Peter handed you a coffee cake muffin and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Or maybe it was the hunger. 

“How’d you know this one is my favorite?” 

“You’ve ordered it a few times,” Peter scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “You just looked like you needed something.”

“Are you saying I look bad right now?” You raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened. 

“No! No, no. Not at all. I mean like you just— I mean you were falling asleep and—“ You laughed and he joined in with you. “I just thought it would help you focus on… whatever you’re doing.” He took a quick look at your work, all the scribbles and numbers in your notebook looked like a foreign language to him which took him by surprise because whatever had numbers involved, he normally understood. 

“Thanks, it’s very much appreciated.” You took a bite from the muffin, relaxing a bit. 

“It’s no problem. What have you been working on? It’s Friday, shouldn’t you be having fun tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood but you just rolled your eyes. 

“Bro don’t even get me started. It’s my accounting homework. We have an exam coming up and I need to finish this if I wanna go out tonight.” You looked at your work and shuddered. Just the sight of it was repulsing to you. 

“You’re in accounting? You don’t strike me as a finance man— uh woman.” You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head. 

“Correct. I’m not. I’m in business marketing, but one of the required classes to even get into the business school is accounting. It’s absolute death.”

“What do you want to do with your marketing degree?” Peter asked, taking the seat across from you. 

“I’m not really sure yet, the field is so broad. I just like making things pretty.”

“I can see that,” Peter gestured to your notes filled with colorful pens. You giggled and shook your head.

“It just helps me understand what’s going into which account, that’s all. But in all honesty, with my degree, I think it would be so fun to work in social media or the fashion industry. Ooh! Or maybe even do the marketing for a tour for like Taylor Swift or something. That would be everything.” Peter listened to you intently and you felt yourself become a little shy of the attention. 

The two of you ended up talking for a while, finding out where he goes to school and what he’s studying for. You’ve always loved your small talks with the cute barista, but this was another level. You admired how he looked with the sun hitting his brown curls perfectly while it was setting. He looked unreal but in a good way. 

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be working?” You glanced at the clock and noticed you had been sitting and chatting for thirty minutes. His ears turned pink and he looked down at his hands. 

“I actually clocked out when I gave you your muffin.” He sheepishly smiled at you and all you could do was smile. 

“And you are so, so sweet for that. Thank you so much! But don’t you want to go home? I feel so bad, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you away from anything.” Peter’s heart warmed at how thoughtful you were of his time, but he felt bad that you felt bad

“No! You’re not keeping me from anything, I promise. This was really nice.” He gave you a reassuring smile. 

“Oh good, good. Well, I was thinking of heading out because looking at my notes is giving me a headache and I think I would rather die than look at any of this anymore today.” 

“We can, um, walk out together? If you want to, that is, unless you have somewhere to go then–”

“Yeah! Yeah, no I would like that. And there’s less of a chance of me being kidnapped with a cute guy walking with me.” You bit back a laugh as you watched Peter’s face turn red. Once you had packed up all your stuff, the two of you headed out the door into the chilly autumn evening. 

“Do you guys have fall break coming up?” You asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater. 

“Yeah, I think it’s next week.” Peter had no idea what to do. What do you mean he’s walking with his crush, specifically, seeing her outside his work? He just stuffed his hands in his pockets and ignored the desire to hold your hand. 

“Same! Are you doing anything fun?” 

“Not sure, probably just gonna go home and spend time with my aunt. I’ve been so busy with work and school I haven’t had a lot of time to swing by.” No pun intended, Peter thought to himself.

“Oh, that’s so sweet. So, you’re from around here?”

“Yeah! Are you?” You were about to respond until you saw a familiar face running towards you. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! Hey!” It was one of your suitemates, Sophia. The two of you hugged while Peter just stood awkwardly to the side. “Did you see my text?”

“Ugh, no. I’m so sorry! I had been studying all day.” You pulled out your phone to find her text.

“It’s all good! Well, our favorite frat is throwing a party tonight. We’re all gonna go get ready right now.” 

“Oh my god! I neeeeed to go!” You smirked at Sophia. Peter watched the entire interaction, just smiling and nodding his head. “Oh! This is Peter. Peter, this is my suitemate, Sophia.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Peter reached his arm out and they shook hands. 

“Is this the cute–” Sophia started but you smacked her arm to stop, sending her a glare. 

“Thanks for walking with me, Peter. We gotta go, though. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yes! Yeah, I’ll see you soon, Y/n.” You bit back a smile and waved goodbye to him. Peter watched as you and Sophia walked away, smiling a bit until he realized: he didn’t even ask for your number. 

– – –

Peter was working another afternoon shift, which he didn’t mind at all. He was still a little upset that he didn’t get your number, so he made himself an iced Nutella latte so he could wallow in his sadness over the greatest fumble of his life. The bell rang but Peter ignored it, popping a lid over the plastic cup and grabbing a straw.

“Peter?” He recognized that angelic voice anywhere. Turning around, he saw you fidgeting with your hands at the register. Your hair was thrown up in a messy bun, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with black sunglasses on.

“Hey!” He put the drink down before he had even gotten a sip and ran up to the register. 

“I have the worst hangover ever,” your voice barely above a whisper. Peter quickly slid over the latte he made for himself to you. 

“On the house, because you look like you need it,” Peter bit back a smirk. It was hard to see your expression with those big sunglasses on, but he could imagine you rolling your eyes by the way you bit your lips to hold back a smile. 

“You are an angel sent from heaven,” you praised the boy, drinking the smooth, sugary liquid.

“So I’m guessing you had fun last night?” Peter wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“I fear I become a whole other person when drinking Pink Whitney.” 

“Damn, what happened?” 

“I don’t even remember, I blacked. I guess I made out with one of the frat guys, according to my friends. Oh, and I threw a drink in someone’s face. I don’t know.” Peter was unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t a huge party person so he couldn’t really relate to any drinking experiences, but he also didn’t know how to respond to you making out with a guy. 

“Is this the reason why that’s your ‘favorite frat?’” Peter asked, using his fingers as quotations to quote Sophie from yesterday. You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head. 

“It’s our favorite because the guys in it are actually the most stupid people I’ve ever met. I mean, last night, they literally set up a slip ‘n slide down their stairs. It’s so fun to watch,” you swirled your coffee with the straw, reminiscing moments from last night. “You should come with us next time!”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really a ‘party’ person,” Peter avoided your eye contact while your lips formed a line. “But,” Peter’s tone changed. “Maybe I’ll go, just for you.” Your face lit up, nodding in silent confirmation of those unofficial plans.

“When are you off?”

“Are you flirting with me, Y/n?” 

“Maybe,” you said, your voice was airy. Like clockwork, Peter’s face turned red and you just smirked at him. 

“I’m off in fifteen. If you wanna wait, we can, uh, you know, walk–”

“Yeah! I’m down,” you smiled at the boy before walking away to sit at your usual table, waiting for the cute barista. 

And that’s how the next few weeks were. You would get your coffee and sometimes Peter would give it to you for free (those were automatically your favorite days), you would wait for him to get off work, and then the two of you would walk home together. Peter would tell himself every day that it was the day he would finally get your number, but one of you always had something urgent to get to once you had to go your separate ways. Last week, your suitemate’s cat ran away. A few days ago, Peter had a Spidey emergency where he just ran off. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t waiting for Peter to finally ask you out. He consumed your mind, despite you never hanging out outside of the coffee shop. The two of you talked about your schools, the classes you were taking, and just random stories on your walks home. He would even help you with your accounting homework while he was on break or if it was slow. He was so endearing and kind to you, but you were waiting for him to make the first move. 

But soon, those weeks turned cold fast. You hadn’t shown up at his coffee shop in a week and a half. Peter was starting to worry that you died or something, searching for you while on patrol and mindlessly staring out the window, hoping you would walk in. 

– – –

It was a cold, winter day. Peter made himself a hot chocolate to wallow himself in his sorrows after not seeing you for so long. He was starting to beat himself up for never asking for your number, in fear that he wouldn’t ever see you again. He didn’t even know your last name to search for you on Instagram. 

Christmas had passed and the new year had already begun. He had all these daydreams about the two of you spending the holidays together, but you never showed. He started to think that maybe you found a new barista to flirt with and you and your new boyfriend had babies together already. 

Even Peter’s coworkers had noticed his mood drop. When you started to go to their coffee shop frequently, his entire personality was a lot brighter. He smiled more and hummed while making everyone’s drinks. But now, he would just stare out the window, grieving the loss of what never even began. 

Peter drank his hot chocolate while watching the snow fall outside from behind the counter. Some buildings still had their Christmas lights up, making the city feel more homey than ever. 

“Welcome in,” Peter mindlessly announced when he heard the bell ring. He hadn’t bothered looking over, assuming one of his coworkers would take over the register. 

“Wow, I’m gone for like a month and that’s all I get?” Peter whipped his head around so fast he could have gotten whiplash. 

“Y/n!” He ran around the corner to hug you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into the hug. “Where have you been?”

“Missed me that much, pretty boy?” You laughed as he playfully rolled his eyes to hide his blush. Peter walked behind the counter again so he could take your order, but he took you in. You were wearing a maroon beanie and a white winter coat over your big knitted sweater. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He referred to your ripped jeans. 

“Not really,” you just shrugged. 

“The usual?”

“Yes, please!”

“You still want it iced?” Peter raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded your head. 

“Yes, oh my god. I’ve been craving this drink for the last month!”

“You’re crazy to want an iced drink in this weather.”

“Call me whatever you want, but I’m feening for this drink.” Peter laughed at you when you took out your card, prepared to pay. 

“So, where have you been?”

“Oh! I went home for break.” You said it so nonchalantly like you didn’t leave Peter alone and depressed for the last month. 

“You’re not from around here?” He questioned you. 

“No. I could’ve sworn I told you I was gonna be gone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” You pursed your lip out and Peter just gave you a sad smile. 

“It’s okay, not like I missed my favorite person or anything.” Your eyes widened and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle when he walked away to make your drink. 

As Peter was making your latte, he knew he couldn’t risk going no contact with you again. He grabbed a Sharpie from the register and quickly wrote down his number next to your name, hoping you would notice. 

“Y/n!” He called out. You smiled at him as you were walking up, grabbing the drink from the counter. 

“Thank you! I gotta go, I already have assignments to start on. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah! See you later, Y/n.” He waved and smiled at you. You gave him one last wave as you walked out the door, your back pushing it open. 

Peter went the rest of his shift high on adrenaline, making the best drinks he’s probably made since the first day you walked into the coffee shop. He clocked out and grabbed his backpack, walking out into the cold. He felt his phone buzz from his coat pocket, taking it out to see it. 

hey pretty boy :)

Peter was smiling and giggling the rest of his walk home. 

[yuriisclumsy]

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 | Part 4 | Part 5 (You are here) | Part 6

 —May 24, 2024—

This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland? 

After the dreadful day of the test results, the students in NRC are now begging Crowley to do something about [Name]'s rigorous lessons. Because Crowley was ever gracious–forced–he took it upon himself to make a meeting with [Name] and discuss lighter plans for her classes. 

To Crowley’s dismay, [Name] was quite adamant about her methods of teaching; and I quote: “What is the point of teaching such a hard skill to those that are uninterested in it?” 

In her defense, you need to have mastered the intermediate level of theory to learn her method of casting spells, it is only natural she puts pressure on that. And so, the once popular professor [Name], is now the feared witch of NRC. 

It is impressive how quickly people switch their feelings. 

… 

“What do you mean you won't change the syllabus?” 

“As I stated before, Mr. Crowly, I will not change my lesson plans because a few students are unable to pass my test.” 

“That's eighty percent of your students!” Crowly slammed his desk.  

“Your point is…?” 

This had been going on for an hour already. They had neither progressed nor reached an agreement. He was getting too much pressure as it is from the students, much less from the parents, and now one of his own staff is not listening to him? Oh, woe is upon him. 

“Professor [Name] let’s be reasonable here,” Crowly massages his face out of frustration, “you need to lower the difficulty of your lessons. If not, no one will want to take your class! Are you not seeing the problem?” 

“I stand to see the issue.” [Name] said not faced by what is happening. “If my students wish to not take my class anymore, then they should be allowed to leave.” 

Croly groaned at her obliviousness…that is what he thought anyway. He stood up to grab a stack of papers piling up near the office entrance. Letting them fall in front of [Name] they made a bang sound. 

“...what is this?” [Name] asked looking at the mountain in front of her. 

“These are all papers of complaint from both parents and students.” 

[Name] was still not interested in the dire situation. It is as if she didn’t care. Probably because she did not. 

Crowly dropped his elbow onto the desk and leaned in, he began to speak. “Professor [Name], if you continue at this pace, I have no other choice than to fire you.” He warned. 

“Then do it.” 

“No, you don’t have to worry, if you just change—wait what?” He was left speechless. He had threatened other professors like he threatened [Name]. But none had ever followed through with their ideals. Maybe he heard it wrong. “Do…what exactly?” 

“Fire me.” 

No, he heard correctly. 

“...Professor [Name]...you can’t be serious.” 

“Oh, but I am,” [name] stood up, “If you wish to fire me, you are more than welcome to.” 

“...” 

“If there are no further issues, I will take my leave.” Taking her belongings, she walked toward the door. She had classes to teach after all. 

“Wait a second! Please, at least think of lowering the complexity of the class!” 

[name] stopped as she opened the door of the office. “...” looking back at the desperation of the Headmage, she turned, “...I’ll think about it.” 

Having done everything in his power, Crowly lumberly sat down. He looked out to the last spot where [Name] had been in the doorway and sighed. He hoped she would consider what he said, if not, he would have to start looking for a replacement. 

… 

Classes continued as usual. The students hung around NRC as it was their lunch break. They talked about ordinary things; tournaments coming up, newly released movies, who would win in a beauty contest: Vil or Neigh; normal conversations.  

But a murmur had begun to spread. 

It is a rumor. Usually, rumors are few and far in-between in NRC, because the boys would lose interest in a day or two. Ah, but this is not a typical rumor. This rumor had to do with The Witch of NRC. Rumor had spread that she was going to be fired. This was shortly after the meeting [Name] had with Crowly.  

A student had seen her walk out of the headmaster's office and produced a happy conclusion. It did not help that in the following days [Name] had to take a few days off sick. 

Everyone started to celebrate. They would not have to deal with professor [Name] anymore! 

“Can you believe it? Professor [name] was fired!” 

“What? No way! I am glad she got fired. I won't have to worry about having her in the future anymore!” 

Most of the students cheered. Her method of teaching–although hard to follow–had taught them more about magic theory than any other class. Given this, they were grateful.  

So, hearing that their professor was fired, they decided to go to her personally and give her some farewell gifts. 

Although, one student was not pleased by any of this.  

I wonder what he’ll do…. 

(finished: 5/26/2024)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again, @lucid-stories. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

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[sineala]

I subscribe to the newsletter of an author I like who wrote a book about 9/11 and the War on Terror and the security state in the US and how it led to the election of Trump, and it's all very serious but apparently the author is writing an Iron Man comics series. I don't read the comics, and a lot of what I know about them comes from your fic, so I'm honestly not sure how much fanon vs canon knowledge I have. 😂 But the series sounds like it might be interesting I think? The author talked about it in his newsletter today. (This link should work. Probably.)

https://www.forever-wars.com/iron-man-how-to-blow-up-a-pipeline-succession/

I am actually really excited about this run! I try not to get excited about new Iron Man runs because chances are high that my hopes and dreams will be crushed, and I know that just because someone writes, say, stunningly excellent non-fiction, it is not a guarantee that they will be great at writing fiction at all or superhero comics specifically (cf. Ta-Nehisi Coates on Cap), but judging by everything Spencer Ackerman's been saying in interviews, his run sounds like it's going to explore a lot of interesting themes.

The post you linked links to an AIPT podcast that he was on a few days ago to talk about his new Iron Man run. For those of you who don't listen to podcasts (this is also me), the Iron Man subreddit has what seems like a fairly comprehensive summary of the interview, and I am really looking forward to the run. Issue #1 apparently hits stores on October 23.

But I will tell you why I am actually now really excited about this run. It's not relevant to anything about the comic itself. I am nonetheless very excited.

Last month, after he was announced as the new Iron Man writer, in order to hype up his run, he posted an offer on his blog: if you add the run to your pull list, and you email him proof that you're pulling his run and include a snail-mail address, he will mail you some cool Iron Man stickers.

I eventually got around to doing this last week. I was assuming he didn't actually pay attention to any of these emails so I dashed off a couple sentences about how I was looking forward to his take on Tony because he'd posted a photo of the Iron Man comics he was reading for research and several of them were among my favorites. And then I went off to get bagels.

By the time I had come back with bagels, twenty minutes later, he'd written me a very nice reply substantively engaging with the content of my extremely off-the-cuff message -- geez, if I'd known he was going to be actually reading them I would have put a lot more thought into it, you know? It was very kind and I was not expecting it.

He spelled my first name wrong in the reply, despite it being in the email header and also the name I had signed the email with.

This happens to me a lot. I have a first name that is very common in a lot of languages, but none of those languages are English. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance that a native English speaker will spell or pronounce my name wrong. This is unfortunate, because I live in the US and mostly interact with native English speakers. (My wife @lysimache immediately knew how to pronounce my name. I mean, it wasn't why I married her or anything, but I feel like it was a big plus on a personal level.)

If I have to give my name for something, I will reflexively spell it. The second-to-last time I voted, they'd switched voter lookup to you giving them your name rather than you giving your street address, which was a surprise that filled me with dread. My wife was in line ahead of me and she was completely finished voting by the time the poll workers had finished correctly spelling my name. (The last time I voted, I just handed them my ID, which is not required in my state, but I really wanted this to go faster.) I went to the doctor last week, and when they called my name in the waiting room, they said it wrong. I corrected them. They said it differently wrong a couple minutes later. I corrected them again. They said it wrong again. At that point I gave up.

(If I could think of a name I liked better that I was absolutely sure that most people could spell and pronounce, I would change my name. I still have not found one.)

So, you know, I'm used to it. It happens. Frequently. I was not at all surprised that he spelled it wrong.

He then emailed me again to apologize for spelling my name wrong. Like, immediately. One minute later. He said he was sorry and he knew a lot of people with a similar name.

Dude. Nobody does that. Nobody actually apologizes. Especially not in an email to a rando like me. He did not need to do that. At all. I was not expecting him to do that. He did that. I was honestly touched. No one bothers to do that. But he did.

I got my stickers in the mail yesterday.

I have redacted the portion of the note that has my name in it, but he absolutely spelled my name correctly.

Mr. Ackerman, sir, I hope your comic sells a million copies.

[dedalvs]

hi!

i can’t quite find the answer on your website, so i’m hoping you could help me out :)

i’m interested in possibly getting the phrase “be strong” in HV as a tattoo, but how would that translate? I tried the translators but I got confused because “Be Calm” is “Lykirī” if I recall correctly, but then for “Be Strong” I got a two word phrase. Both calm and strong are l class adjectives according to your site, so I assumed that Kostobiri would be the translation for Be Strong but I’m not entirely sure…

What would be the correct translation? And are there also glyphs for this phrase?

The usual way to say "be strong" would be Kostōba sās, where kostōba would need to agree with the name or noun being referred to. (So, for example, if someone we're sayingj it Rhaenyra, Kostōba sās woud be accurate, but if one were sayingj it to Daemon, it would need to be Kostōbon sās.) I transalted the dragon commands the way I did because they're not saying "be calm", but, rather, "calmly". With a dragon, as with any other animal, I imagined these would be commands that would be given repeatedly as one is guiding the dragon towards wherever one wishes it to go. You can't tell a dragon to do or be something and expect that they will hear it, understand it, and do it the way a human would. They need to be coaxed and cajoled, given commands repeatedly, and so using the adverbial form made more sense, so rather than saying "Be calm", they say, "Calmly! Calmly! That's it!" and the like.

Consequently, it matters what exactly you want to say and why. For example, if it was a general command in life, I couild see using the aorist imperative siās instead of sās. I could also see using jās the imperative of "go" (or the aorist imperative, which, while pronounced the same, has a unique spelling in the Valyrian orthography).

So yeah, it's not a simple matter of translation. It really depends what you want to say and why. Here are several renditions:

Feel free to follow up for more clarification.

[spearmintsmut]

MY OWN MUDBLOOD 5

The tensionnn thank you for the suggestions for this fic, I’m so glad I kept writing it. I hope this smut heals the broken heart last chapter gave you x

Draco hadn’t returned since he left via floo and you were left alone with your reeling mind. Not only was he already difficult to live with on a good day, he was unpredictable too and it was giving you whiplash. You had him in your mouth and a moment after he was done, he was angry again for thoughts that were beyond your control. It isn’t fair, you thought, that he could hear your thoughts AND hold that against you as if you could help it. You decided to open up one of the books your father had picked up for you when you moved to the manor and brush up on some spells to distract yourself. Flipping through the pages, you weren’t sure where to start. You would ask your father for help but since moving in with Narcissa, he paid even less attention to you and asking him for help would feel like talking to a brick wall. You decided to start light with some less intimidating spells and charms, landing on lumos. You pick your wand up reading carefully as you flick your wand, light instantly gleaming from it. Though it seemed like an easy enough spell, you were still pleased with yourself. You turned it off with a spell just as simple and moved on to the next. Accio, a summoning spell. Also seemed simple enough, you thought, reading the small paragraph on it. You set your book down and picked your wand back up. You lifted your hand up nervously as you summoned the book, still unsure of if you were saying it correctly, but it flew to your hand so quickly you almost dropped it. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, having taught yourself two new spells without any help or experience. You already had a good momentum and kept reading. The next chapter was on levitation. You looked around your room for something to levitate but all there was on the floor of your new room was a small pile of clothes. You read the spells closely before you pointed your wand at it with a swish and flick.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” You spoke awkwardly, hoping you said it right - and sure enough, a pair of your lace panties lifted up slowly into the air above the pile. You held your wand up, keeping the panties in the air as you cast your eyes back down to the book to confirm the spell to drop them back down. You read the spell aloud, but as you looked back up at your work, the panties fell into a large pale hand. You almost fell back in shock as your eyes adjusted to the tall blonde in your room.

“Another gift for me huh mudblood? I’ll take it,” he said with a straight face but painfully smug tone. He shoved the panties in the pocket of his perfectly ironed pants.

You didn’t know if you wanted to apologise for the thoughts he heard earlier in the library, or yell at him for listening in the first place. You almost couldn’t enjoy what you’d done in that library. Almost didn’t think about it all afternoon. Almost weren’t hearing his moans in your mind right now. Your mind snapped back to reality like a rubber band as he spoke your name. Your eyes refocused and looked at him, though you couldn’t find your words.

“These piss-easy spells aren’t going to help you if…when..,” he stumbled on his words then stopped. He drew in a slow breath through his teeth, clenching his jaw before he started again. “These spells are useless. Come and get another book off me after Tea. I want you studying spells that will actually protect you in the case of…what ever” he trailed off and you noticed him hold his hand over his covered forearm. You remembered seeing the dark mark on his arm and felt a pang of sympathy at the thought of what he must have had to endure during that time. You quickly pulled yourself out of that thought, worried that he was listening to your thoughts again. You nodded at him in agreement.

“I’m glad you’re learning…something at least,” he offered and his compliment surprised you, though it was still rather patronising. You gave him half a smile but didn’t respond.

You both took a quick step back from each other as you heard the sound of high heels clicking against the marble staircase, but before Draco had the time to leave your room, you saw Narcissa reach your door.

“Oh how nice, you two are finally getting along,” she cheered looking at the two of you. You offered a polite smile and Draco just rolled his eyes.

“How were my favoured slytherin boys, son?” She asked warmly and you wondered who they were. Was they who he was with the last couple of days? Draco having friends, or keeping them, was hard to imagine if he acted the same with anyone else. “Fine,” he shrugged.

“Do bring them to visit again, Draco. You know I haven’t seen them since before…well, you know,” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to finish her thought. “Anyway, Tea will be ready in 5,” she tried to finish cheerfully.

“Sure. If you promise not to fawn over them” he raised a brow at her. She promised him she wouldn’t, though whoever they were, it seemed as though she might anyway.

She turned and descended the stairs gracefully, flowing down in her gold trim dress.

The Malfoy two made you feel underdressed no matter what you wore, you looked down at your white blouse and pleated skirt. You knew you would have to find a new wardrobe soon to at least try and fit in with your new family. The word still tugged at your chest..”family”. You barely knew your step mother, and your step brother had been between your legs barely three days ago. Family was hardly the word for it, though you longed for it nonetheless.

When you swam out of your thoughts and looked up, Draco was studying your face. He didn’t ask any questions, but he stared intently like he were reading a book. You figured he was intruding in your thoughts again and scoffed, pushing past him and down the stairs. Though he hadn’t meant to that time, he had heard what he needed to, as if your thoughts of him flashed in his mind like a snippet of a movie. Though he would never admit to it being unintentional, he enjoyed almost every minute of it. Snape had taught him the art of legilimency in 6th year, and though he became skilled at it quickly, there were still things he didn’t understand, like why he heard or saw thoughts that others had of him without intending to. It had happened when you fantasised about him, which he delighted in listening in to. But it had also happened when he arrived home and found you in the library that morning, leaving him an uncomfortable mixture of rage, and something else. He couldn’t place what it was, but it made him feel warm. He never felt warm. Though he didn’t allow himself to feel regret for the way he reacted that morning, he knew he might, had he been raised differently.

You walked into the luxurious dining hall and sat across from your father and Narcissa, who were already seated next to each other. You were half glad they had taken those seats so you didn’t have to sit front on toward Draco again. That was until he sat beside you and your senses filled with his expensive cologne, and you could just about feel the electricity between your bodies. You were still angry that he had likely read your mind again moments before, but now sharing the room with both of your parents, you faked a smile as you began to eat.

You felt uncomfortable with the silence and decided to fill it yourself.

“I taught myself some spells today,” though you hadn’t meant to brag, you couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face.

“That’s great darling! Did Draco help you?” Your father asked and immediately, your smile dropped. You drew a deep breath in, fighting every fibre of your being not to scream. You tried to open your mouth to correct him, but tears began to prick your eyes first. You took in another shaky breath, embarrassed at how easily he dampened your pride, and tried again to correct him, but you heard Draco’s voice beside you first.

“She said she taught herself.” Your head snapped to him, and he was leaned forward, his lip crinkled into a snarl. You couldn’t quite believe what was happening and though you didn’t want to be spoken for, far less toward your father, you were grateful he did. Had you cried, attempting to stand up for yourself, you didn’t think you could face any of them again. He didn’t look at you, but you mentally thanked him, hoping he would hear you.

Your fathers face was stiff and you were worried his polite facade would slip, but he curtly congratulated you instead.

“That’s great Darling. What did you learn?” Narcissa tried to break the tension with her warm voice.

“I..I” you stuttered, still recovering from the emotion your dad had such a talent for bringing out of you. You felt a warm hand on your knee under the table and it instantly pulled you out of your near tears. Draco’s thumb rubbed over your skin calmingly and though distracting, you were able to continue with a sniff.

“I learned lumos, accio, and levitation,” you smiled.

“She definitely did well with levitation,” Draco said and you could hear the smirk in his tone. Though you knew it was a private dig at you, it did cheer you up some.

His hand lifted off your knee and you felt his finger lightly glide up your naked thigh, drawing soft circles just under the hem of your skirt. It tickled in the best way imaginable, dissipating the hurt and embarrassment you had just felt, taking up that space in your mind with something very different. You felt the cold of his rings on your sensitive inner thigh and were reminded of the same feeling nights before in your bed. He gripped your thigh as you tried to continue speaking, though his hands on you clouded your mind with memories of him kissing them. You felt yourself start to get wet and hoped your panties were enough to keep from leaving a wet patch on the expensive seat. You stole a look at your step-brother sitting beside you and saw his heavenly smirk playing on his lips. Though your parents didn’t seem to notice, you shot him a warning look anyway. He licked his pink lips and they glistened, leaving you near breathless. He spoke to your father about his plans for going back to complete his schooling at Hogwarts after the break as if his hand wasn’t sliding further up your thigh. Your cheeks reddened and you could barely sit still, but you couldn’t find the strength to stop him either. His fingers played with your thigh and you felt him trace a heart right below your panties.

You tried to listen to the conversation at hand but your mind was racing with memories and fantasies, both of him. You involuntarily spread your thighs slightly under the table, giving him the room to trace along the inside of your upper thigh. You were already wrestless, and if he didn’t stop soon, you knew you would lose control. Suddenly, you felt his long finger drag up the crotch of your panties to your clothed clit. He rubbed a slow circle on your clit and the breath caught in your chest. Your eyes almost rolled back from the sudden and direct pleasure to your core.

“I’m done!” you choked out, standing up abruptly. Your legs were shaky and you could feel your soaked panties wetting your inner thighs as you stood. Narcissa looked at you surprised and your father shot you an angry look at your lack of manners, but you knew you couldn’t sit there any longer.

“Th.thank you for dinner,” you corrected before rushing out and up the stairs. You heard Draco excuse himself and follow up the stairs behind you. When you got to the top, you rushed into your room, desperate to relieve yourself, or at least try- but Draco caught the door before it closed.

“What the fuck Draco you prat!” You tried to keep your voice down. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “You, you can’t do that,” you almost whined.

“I think you liked it just fine, little one,” he purred in your ear. He was right. But god, was it more than a tease. “I did, but,” your voice was breathier than you meant, a slave to the pleasure his voice alone gave you.

“But nothing,” he leaned inches from your face and as his breath fanned over your face you instinctively closed your eyes. His lips crashed against yours and you returned the pressure. His tongue swiped your lip and you parted them without hesitation, fighting each other for dominance before giving in to him. He pressed his body against yours, grinding himself against you before his thigh pushed between your legs, parting them. One of his hands held the wall beside you and the other pushed between your bodies against your chest. He kneaded your breast, flicking your nipple with his thumb. His hand trailed down your torso and you wined your hip, desperate for him to give your clit attention again, now that you were alone.

“What do you want hmm? Use your words like a big girl,” he toyed with you, barely brushing against your stomach.

“Please,” you breathed. “Please touch me,” you begged. “Please Draco,” you couldn’t wait any longer and grabbed his hand, placing it between your legs.

“There you go,” he whispered against your neck before kissing and licking at it. He lifted your skirt and rubbed soft fast circles over your swollen clit.

You felt his hard cock rub against you and he moaned against the sensitive skin below your ear. He pulled your soaked panties to the side and sunk his middle finger into you and you fought not to cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck, tsk tsk, getting this wet at the dinner table,” you blushed at his words. “Who are you this wet for hmm?” He added another finger and pumped in and out.

“Mmm you, Draco. You,” you moaned.

“This wet for your step brother, you are a depraved little thing aren’t you,” he mocked and your eyes rolled back as he curled his fingers inside. He rubbed your clit with his thumb at the same time and you let out a loud moan. He held his other hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“That’s it, mudblood. I know you want to cum for me,” he quickened his pace and you looked up at him, breath quickening to pants.

“I’m so close Draco please!” You moaned against his hand.

“Cum for me mudblood,” he leaned down to your level and whispered in your ear and felt yourself come undone, clenching and spasming around his long fingers. You moans fell from you and he covered your mouth again. Your legs shook and twitched and just as they collapsed below you, he caught you and picked you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you to your bed and laid you down. You looked up at him in a daze. He walked out without a word, and came back moments later with a large book in hand. He set it on the desk next to you and stood tall over you. Looking up at him, you wondered if he would make you suck his cock again, but instead, he leaned down and brushed a strand of your hand behind your ear with his pinkie.

“Rest up, mudblood. And in the morning, I want you to study this book. Don’t bother wasting your time with anything else until you’ve learned enough for duelling practice,” he ordered. Duelling practice? The idea worried you. You’d only just learned your first few spells, all of which being small, inconsequential ones for every day. Now he wants you learning defensive magic already? As if he read your mind, and maybe he did, he smiled at you.

“It’s okay, I’ll go easy on you. You need to learn okay?“ his voice was oddly reassuring. Warm? Not quite. But reassuring.

@lail1010

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT (see full series list here)

1993

On the first Thursday evening after school returns from the Christmas holidays, you leave the Astronomy Tower for the History of Magic classroom. Remus told you he was going to teach Harry how to cast a patronus and asked you to come along and help, and you're more than happy to do so. Anytime you get to spend with your godson is time well spent, and getting to hang out with Remus is just another plus.

You turn up and find Harry and Remus standing in the classroom, Remus heaving a large packing case onto Professor Binns' desk.

Harry gives you a bit of a surprised look and Remus smiles, greeting you with your name. "I hope you don't mind my inviting her, Harry, but she is an excellent witch who can cast a perfect patronus."

You roll your eyes with a smile, chuckling lightly as you look at Harry. "He's going to pretend as if he isn't an excellent wizard himself who can also cast a perfect patronus."

Remus huffs quietly, shaking his head, and Harry smiles back at you, before turning his attention to the large case on the desk. "What's that?"

"Another Boggart," Remus answers, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking in Mr Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practise on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," Harry says, sounding a little apprehensive.

"So..." Remus takes out his own wand, indicating that Harry should do the same. You follow suit, slightly unsure of whether you're going to be of any help when Remus seems to have this perfectly under control already. "The spell we are going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" Harry asks.

"When cast correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," you say. "A Patronus acts as a sort of guardian...it protects you from a Dementor, drives it away and places itself between you and the Dementor."

Remus nods, before saying, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the Charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"But you two can do the charm, right? Was it hard to learn for you too?" Harry asks curiously and you laugh.

"Very hard, but we were young and would do anything to avoid studying," you reply with a laugh, making Remus smile.

"That is very true," he says in agreement.

Harry nods, before asking, "What does a Patronus look like?"

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it," Remus says.

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

Harry pauses for a moment, clearly thinking hard, before saying a very concentrated "Right."

"The incantation is expecto patronum!" you say slowly.

"Expecto patronum," Harry repeats under his breath, "expecto patronum."

"Excellent! Concentrating hard on your happy memory?" Remus reminds him and Harry quickly nods, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh — yeah — expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —"

A wisp of silvery gas suddenly whooshes out of the end of his wand and his face lights up excitedly.

"Did you see that?" he grins. "Something happened!"

"Incredible for your first lesson!" You encourage and Harry beams.

"Yes, very good," Remus says, smiling. "Right then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"Yes," Harry says confidently, gripping his wand tightly and moving into the middle of the classroom.

You stand to the side, wand at the ready, as Remus grasps the lid of the packing case and pulls. You watch as a Dementor rises slowly from the box, its hooded face turned towards Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps in the classroom flicker and then die out. The Dementor steps out of the box and starts to sweep in that sickeningly eerie Dementor way towards Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yells desperately. "Expecto patronum! Expecto — "

Harry begins to falter, and his grip on his wand weakens so much that it drops from his hand and he too drops backwards to the floor.

You and Remus both spring to life, as Remus shouts a quick riddikulus! at the 'Dementor' and it morphs into a bright full moon, the lamps returning to their former glow with it.

You run to the boy lying flat in the middle of the room and gently shake his arm, saying, "Harry!" and snapping your fingers.

He quickly jerks back to life, looking around himself as he sits up, beads of sweat trickling down behind his glasses. You pull a handkerchief from your pocket and hand it to him with a small smile, and he accepts it gratefully, patting his face down with it.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Are you all right?" You ask.

"Yes..." Harry pulls himself up on one of the desks and leans against it.

"Here — " Remus hands him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it the first time. In fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry mutters, biting the Frog's head off. "I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort — "

You glance at Remus, his face has turned pale and you inhale slowly, stomach churning.

"Harry," you say gently. "That's what Dementors do. They make you remember the worst memories, your worst fears...that way, you let your guard down and let your happy memories and feelings slip into their grasp. But if you keep that happiest memory strong in your mind, it'll protect you."

Harry seems to think about this for a moment, and Remus says, "Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand — "

"I do!" Harry says fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

Okay James.

"All right then..." Remus says, slightly taken aback. You know he's thinking the exact same thing you are. "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on...that one doesn't seem to have been strong enough..."

Harry moves to the middle of the classroom again, wand gripped firmly in his hand.

"Ready?" Remus asks, gripping the lid of the packing case.

"Ready," Harry replies.

"Go!" Remus says, pulling off the lid. Once again, the lamps flicker out and it gets icily cold, sending shivers down your spine. The Dementor glides forward towards Harry, drawing its rattling breath and extending one rotting hand out to him.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yells. "Expecto patronum! Expecto pat —"

Once more, Harry's face goes blank and he tumbles to the ground, dropping his wand in the process. He lays on the ground, shaking, his face contorting in pained expressions and you move to him again while Remus quickly sorts out the Boggart, coming to his side too.

"Harry! Harry, dear, wake up..." you say, tapping him hard on the face. He opens his eyes, looking very disorientated, looking around like he doesn't know where he is. Then he shakes his head slightly and clears his throat.

"I heard my dad," he mumbles. You feel your heart start to ache. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it..."

You notice glistening tears wetting Harry's face, and when he bends down to do up his shoelace, they've been wiped off.

"You heard James?" Remus says quietly, almost as if he's forgotten where he is. You glance up at him, catching the sad look in his eyes.

"Yeah..." Harry looks up at Remus. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did — we did, as a matter of fact," Remus says quickly, gesturing to you. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced...I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this..."

"No!" Harry cries, getting up again defiantly. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is...hang on..."

There's a brief moment of silence as Harry racks his brain for an even happier memory than his last.

"Ready?" Remus says, though you can tell he's doing this against his better judgment. You give him a look and he grits his teeth. "Concentrating hard? All right — go!"

He pulls off the lid and the Dementor emerges again.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellows. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

To your shock, a huge, silver shadow bursts from the end of Harry's wand, hovering between him and the Dementor. Though Harry has nearly produced a proper Patronus, he begins to sway again and you spring forward, roaring, "Riddikulus!"

There's a loud crack and Harry's wispy Patronus disappears along with the Dementor and he sinks into a chair, legs shaking. You're no longer focused on him though, because once you've stepped in front of the Boggart it contorts into a familiar figure.

Sirius Black stands before you, dressed in an Azkaban prisoner's clothes, filthy and grubby. His long curls which you once loved running your fingers through are greasy and matted, and his face is sunken and pale. His eyes are wide, staring at you, and his face twists into a cruel smile.

"It was me," he says, though the voice isn't his. This voice is full of cruelty, malice, and even though it sounds like him, you know it's not.

No, no. This isn't real. You know this isn't real. Why are your eyes stinging? Why is the ability to breathe suddenly lost on you?

His body starts to shake in silent laughter. "You are so fucking stupid. I never even cared about — "

"Riddikulus!"

You blink. Remus is forcing the Boggart back into its packing case with his wand; it has turned into the moon again.

Remus gives you a quick once-over from where you stand, stock-still, staring at the packing case. He chooses instead to focus on Harry, forcing a smile. "Excellent! Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

You stand, staring at the packing case. You don't even know what's going on, you've completely zoned out, thinking only of the 'man' that was in front of you mere moments ago.

"If you knew my dad, you must know Sirius Black too."

You snap out of your daze, spinning around to face Harry and Remus.

"What gives you that idea?" Remus says sharply. You remain silent.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew that they were friends at Hogwarts, too..."

"Yes, I knew him," Remus says shortly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "Or I thought I did. You'd better get off, Harry, it's getting late."

Harry turns to you, Lily's eyes staring at you inquisitively. "And you, Professor...your Boggart..."

"Yes, well, yes, it's him," you reply curtly. "It shouldn't be a shock that I am afraid of a...a crazed — " your mind runs wild trying to find any words, "— um...a — a man like that."

"But you did know him?"

"Yes. Really, Harry, Professor Lupin is right...bed, now. You have class in the morning." You turn around, suddenly busying yourself with something on Binns' desk.

Harry hesitates for a moment before you hear him leave behind you, the door closing and leaving you alone with Remus.

You sigh gently and look up at him. He says nothing, just opens his arms and envelopes you in a comforting hug.

"Perhaps it's best to let you handle the Boggarts from now on?" You joke with a weak smile and Remus chuckles lightly.

"I think you might be right."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

January turns to February. Harry's all-important Ravenclaw game draws nearer, and Harry seems to grow more frustrated at each unsuccessful Patronus lesson. However, with each try, even though he doesn't know it, he is making progress.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," Remus says sternly in your fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out any more, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," says Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear — "

"The true Patronus does do that," Remus replies. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"Besides, we'll be there too. You have nothing to worry about," you say with an encouraging smile.

"But you said it's harder if there are loads of them."

"We have complete confidence in you," Remus says, smiling. "Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, you won't have tried it before — "

He pulls three gold bottles from his briefcase and Harry's face lights up.

"Butterbeer!" says Harry. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Harry, the boy who has never set foot in Hogsmeade?

You give him a sceptical look.

"Oh — Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry says quickly, smiling awkwardly.

"I see," Remus says, though he looks equally as suspicious as you. "Well, let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher..." he adds hastily and you snort, rolling your eyes.

"Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor, Remus," you say with a wink and he shakes his head amusedly.

You take a sup from your Butterbeer, the room quiet as you all drink, before Harry breaks the silence by saying, "What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Remus lowers his bottle thoughtfully. "Hmm...well, the only people who know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementors' Kiss," you answer with a small shudder. "It's terrible. It's what the Dementors do when they want to utterly destroy someone. There's some kind of mouth under that hood because they attach their jaws to the mouth of the victim and...suck out their soul."

Harry accidentally spits out his Butterbeer. "What — they kill — ?"

"Oh, no," Remus says. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self any more, no memory, no...anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever...lost."

Remus drinks a little more Butterbeer, then says, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry has given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

You nearly choke on your drink, placing it down on the table as you cough. "What?"

"Did you not see that?" Remus asks in confusion and you shake your head, stunned.

"No, I didn't," you respond dejectedly. "I — I slept in this morning, missed the post — meteor shower last night..."

"He deserves it," Harry says suddenly.

You turn to him, shocked. "Harry!" you say breathlessly, looking down at the wooden desk.

"You think so, Harry?" Remus says lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," says Harry defiantly. "For...for some things..."

"It's inhumane," you spit. "If you knew half of what goes on in Azkaban, you would think it is punishment enough."

Harry doesn't respond to that, just thanks you both for the lesson and Remus for the Butterbeer before leaving.

As soon as he's gone you turn to Remus. "The Kiss?"

"I thought you had read it," Remus says apologetically, looking very guilty. "I would have told you otherwise."

"It's fine, Moony, really...I don't care about that. Just...like, what the fuck? This is just great. Exactly what I needed to hear. What a brilliant year this has been!" You say bitterly, standing up from your seat and running a hand down your face, laughing humourlessly. "Just fucking brilliant."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter nine here!

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡