#just felt like she was less and less person as the book went on and more vessel for commentary whereas sam was an outstanding character

[mrmathmanwr]

okay, tbf, tbf, i gotta defend my dudes here. Inuyasha not only went back to Kikyo due to an INSANE amount of guilt he felt for more or less (in his mind) CAUSING HER DEATH, and wanting to reconcile and console (hope thats the right spelling) her, but also because she was already dead, and he cared too much for Kagome to see her hurt. He wanted to help Kikyo get revenge, and she was already dead as well, so maybe if she died, she’d find solace instead. 

I RANTED SO HARD, PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Kikyo came back hating him, and as we saw in the flashback around chapter 47-ish iirc (one where he is telling the story of him and kikyo's relationship to Kaede) he probably would've felt horrible about this. When he offended Kikyo by saying "I'm not like you." He immediately followed it up by the line "Her face... It looked so utterly alone.... And for the first time in my life, I felt I had done something wrong." Now imagine this reaction, but instead of loneliness, it is sheer hatred. Wishing for nothing but to see you dead. This woman, your only solace in this world, the only person who doesn't see you as a monster, wishing for your death. Imagine that. 

now, going beyond that, he also wishes for this to never happen again to Kikyo, which I think is fair. The entirety of chapter 173 is dedicated to Inuyasha just saying “I don’t wanna see Kikyo have her life fucked over by Narkau again.” and his guilt is shown massively here too, or at very least it is in a line he says. “If he attacks you again… Who will protect you? I’m the only one you have!” He legit is saying “I would feel sole responsible if you died trying to kill Naraku.” He’s already failed her once, and he cannot STAND the thought of it happening twice.

That last part also loops back around to why he doesn’t want Kagome to be around while he’s still dealing with Kikyo, not only because he feels like shit for doing this to her, but also because, as Inuyasha said, he can’t afford her love. Not when love killed Kikyo. (GOD I FUCKING LOVE CHAPTER 176 AWORJAWIRJ) Literally, as he said, “I have to protect her, I have to give my life to Kikyo.” THEN, AS KAGOME HERSELF SAID TO IMMEDIATELY FOLLOW UP, “I know, I can’t compete against Kikyo. Because I’m… I’m still alive.” OMGOEJRAWIORJWAR. I say this with love, not malice, please, read chapter 176 of the manga. If you want, I can provide a link to it, but it alone I think perfectly encapsulates their relationship up to that point. (i am only on the early half of book 7, so I can’t say anything for beyond it.)

And I know you didn’t say this, but he always loved Kagome too. I feel like I really don’t need to explain, but there are SEVERAL occasions in the series where Inuyasha and Kagome only defeat the big bad evil trying to kill the because of their love for eachother. It could be argued that Inuyasha only killed the Thunder Brothers BECAUSE he loved Kagome, and seeing them die sent him into a blind rage, not to mention his reaction when he thought they died because of the thunder blast. The first time he unlocked his demon form was pretty much entirely because Kagome was about to be killed. I could go on but this rant is too fucking long and I am actively not eating tacos because of it.

LASTLY, just as a tiny footnote, I can’t entirely blame him for being salty over Koga. Koga tries to kill him and the gang, steals his girl (literally), puts her in IMMENSE DANGER (as stated previously, his biggest fear,) and then she seems flattered? Not to mention the other times he is constantly gawking over Kagome while FAILING TO PROTECT HER? All he sees him as is a danger to Kagome. still love my boy though, koga fucking rules.

And I am sorry if this whole rant seems angry, it’s not, my brain just wouldn’t let me not write this. Inuyasha’s guilt over Kikyo is something I find so fucking fascinating, and I couldn’t just let this fester and rot in my brain. It was like a tumor, pushing on my skull to get out. anyways i fucking love my dudes, and I hope this makes you love them a little bit more.

Kagome is so strong because I would lose my shit if I was nice to a guy and my crush were to start being jealous and angry and then he turns around and is still all over his former love.

[audreyhxrne]

read all of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow in under 24 hours and I have my qualms with the back half but. the way it presents loneliness and alienation as the degradation of tenderness. sam and sadie only being able to forgive each other to the extent that they were still willing to show up for each other. how the love can be there but it's not enough if you don't do your part in keeping it alive.

[flufflecat]

anyone else finding it really, really personally nauseating that the pjo show would remove gabes entire character and replace him with someone less abusive to make sally a Strong Female Character. like wow, im sure glad that youve proven that women who are abused are the REAL threat to feminism, and they should just try talking back more!! what a good message to send to abused kids. sorry, kid. i guess you just didnt argue hard enough and #Own your abuser into seeing how cool and strong you are. what do you mean that arguing with an abuser will only make them hurt you more? but look how snappy and cool and feminist sally is now!!! youre clearly just being abused wrong.

[gojoest]

BEDTIME STORY (about love) — gojo satoru

in which satoru tells his daughter the story of how you met. those of you who’ve read this already know, but your now 4-year-old daughter is yet to hear it

girl dad satoru, father-daughter time, she/her pronouns used for reader, wc: 1k, not proofread, just a silly little thing

“papa”

“yes, my life?”

“how did you and mama meet?”

“oh my, i never told you the story?”

“no, papa. you didn’t”

“well—"

one thing gojo satoru never fails to do, no matter how busy his schedule, is reading bedtime stories to his 4-year-old daughter. even when he’s swamped with missions, he would make sure he is at home by the time his daughter had to sleep — after tucking her in, he would sit beside her with a book in hand and read her a story until she’s fast asleep.

but tonight, your daughter asked for a different kind of story — the origin of your love, how the two of you met — and truth be told, satoru was more than excited to talk about it (as he always is whenever the topic in question involved you).

his eyes glowing with the same old dreamy glint anytime your name was mentioned, he puts the book on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable next to his little one in bed. slightly scooching her over so he could sit with his back leaning against the headboard, he cradles her in his arms and takes a deep breath before starting.

“it all happened on my birthday, 7 years ago”

“december 7th!”, your daughter excitedly points out.

satoru chuckles, his chest swelling with joy that his little daughter remembers his birthday. “that’s right, my life. your mother came into my life like a birthday present”, his lips curl into a gentle smile as he reminisces about the night that changed his entire life.

“was mama invited to your birthday?”

“no, but we just happened to be in the same restaurant that night. while i was celebrating with friends, she was there, on another table, with her coworkers”

your daughter hums, “i see”

“she was so beautiful, i noticed her the moment she walked in. and i couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the night. i knew i had to go and talk to her before she left. something in me knew she was the one, you know?”

your little one tilts her head up to look at satoru, eyes curiously blinking, “but how did you know, papa?”

“my heart whispered it to me, beating relentlessly the entire time. it was like this unknown force was pulling me towards your mom and the whole time i was trying to come up with a plan, an excuse even, to go talk to her without coming off as a weirdo”

“and did you succeed?”

“well, by the looks of it—”, he points at her and gently boops her nose, “i did”

she chuckles sweetly, “no, papa—i mean did you manage to not be a weirdo?”

“hmm, i’ll let you decide on that one. so pay attention, okay?”, to which she silently nods. his hand rubs the top of her head softly before continuing.

“you see, i couldn’t think of anything but nor could i wait any longer. i decided i’d just go and say hi. so i stood up and made my way towards her table. i had to know her as soon as possible, because every second of inaction felt like it was taking away from my future with her. any second was precious, you know? if i could be with her sooner, be it even a planck time earlier, i had to take it — as it would only add up to the time spent with her”

“what is planck time, papa?”, your daughter cuts him off.

“it’s theoretically considered to be the shortest measurable time”

“is it less than a second?”

“waaaaay less”

“woah, papa you were down bad for mama”, your daughter gasps in amusement.

an audible laugh breaks through satoru’s lips, “yea, i was. and i still am”

“and what happened when you went over?”

“i said hi but she wasn’t having it at all, didn’t even bat me an eye. tried to chase me off before i was able to introduce myself. but i was already determined to make her mine, i knew it deep down that she was my person. so i forced my way and introduced myself”

“papa you’re a stubborn one”

“yea, but your mother turned out to be even more stubborn. she dodged all my attempts at her. so, i had to make it very clear to her, let her know that the man standing before her was the one to be her boyfriend, then her husband, and then the father of her children — therefore, in order for all this to work, i asked for her number”

“you really said all that?” — satoru nods to her question affirmatively. “papa, that’s so bold of you, honestly”, another gasp leaves your 4-year-old’s mouth. “and then?”

“and then she got mad at me, thought i was playing around with her”, satoru chuckles, brushing a hand across his face at the memory, closing his eyes to replay that very scene in his mind. your reaction is still pretty vivid to him, how your eyes grew wide in disbelief after what he had just told you...

i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children — and you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children…

…and then how you narrowed your eyes and gave him a good lecture.

is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?

“to be honest, i was slightly panicking internally — this was my best move, you know? and it was failing. but luckily, your uncle suguru came to my aid. he convinced your mom to give me a chance before blatantly turning me down. and she did — i got her number by the end of the night”, a soft smile painted on his lips again. “look at us now — wasn’t i right about all that?”

“papa, you’re a hopeless romantic”

“you bet i am”, he smugly confirms.

“…and a bit of a weirdo”, she cackles quietly.

“oi”, satoru furrows his brows. his hand softly tickles the side of her, incurring a loud laugh on her end. “shhh, time to sleep now or else mama will scold me for keeping you up past your bedtime”

“but, papa — you did well, being a weirdo paid off”

“yea, it really did — it gave me a home and a family”, his eyes soften observing the treasure in his arms.

[hugsandharrystyles]

Change of Heart

Summary: Harry's a protecter, a good man. She's a shy librarian with a dog named Pickle. He can't stand her, so why does it fuck him up when he finds out she's scared of him? (Enemies-to-lovers) Word Count: 17k+ Warnings: Harry being a dick, smut

Harry always tried to be a good person.

Key word: Tried.

Growing up, it was just him, his sister, and his mother, so he always felt as a natural protector for women, not implying that women can't hold their own, but he always keeps extra lookout because he can't count all the times his mother and sister have been put in uncomfortable situations with men.

So, he can't understand why all that being said, he can't feel anything but disdain for her.

Y/N has been a part of Harry's friend group almost as long as he has, and he can't stand her. She is the fakest person he's ever met.

He remembers his sister dealing with girls like her in high school. They start off kind and sweet, but then suddenly they have everyone wrapped around their fingers and doing anything they ask. He remembers his sister crying to him about girls like her, so he can't understand why he has to entertain her presence.

He's talked to Niall, his closest friend who's also in their group, about it, but Niall doesn't see the problem. Hell, Y/N has Niall and the rest of them wrapped around her manicured finger.

He really just can't stand her.

"Y/N, tell us how your job interview went!" Harry rolls his eyes and shoots back some of his beer. It was rare that his friend group actually went out to a bar instead of gathering at one of their homes, usually because Y/N hated going out. He feels Niall hit his leg at his eye roll.

"Oh, yes! It went really well, in fact, you're looking at a professional librarian!" Y/N says, her excitement evident in her voice.

"That's so great, Y/N. I'm so proud of you!" Sarah says while the others all chime in with their own praise.

"Awesome, a job almost as boring as you!" Harry says snidely. He usually isn't so blunt, but he's had a few drinks in him.

"Harry- dude, c'mon," Mitch sighs.

"N-no, I get it," Y/N interjects. "It definitely sounds boring just saying it, but I'll be fixing binding on really old books and helping people out with-" Y/N is interrupted when Harry starts dramatically snoring. Y/N looks around the table, getting visibly embarrassed.

"Alright, H, I think you're tapped out. You're being an asshole," Niall says and tries to push him out of the booth.

"Oh, come off it. I'm just joking," Harry rolls his eyes.

"It's fine, I got the joke," Y/N tries to laugh. "I'm going to go get another drink," she says before sliding out of the booth.

"Do you want me to come with?" Sarah asks, knowing about her friend's social anxiety.

"N-no, I'll be okay," Y/N reassures her and grabs her purse before walking off to the bar. She's wearing a big sweater and jeans to a bar, and it's pissing Harry off.

"You need to fucking lay off, man," Mitch says and throws a napkin at Harry. "Just because she doesn't work with lumber and hammers and whatever else manly shit that you do, doesn't mean her job isn't any less important."

"Actually, to be correct, I am a project manager for a multi-million-dollar company-"

"Shut up," Sarah groans.

"You're so mean to her- that's not you," Mitch sighs.

"I'm not fucking mean- she's just annoying. And look at all of you, wrapped around her finger, just like she wants."

Niall goes to speak but is interrupted by Sarah reading a message off of her phone.

I'm so sorry, but I started feeling really sick, so I went home. Hope you guys have fun!

Once Sarah finishes reading the message she looks at Harry with a glare.

"Well, how the hell is she getting home? Didn't you drive her?" Harry asks Sarah.

"Oh, are you worried?" She asks with a condescending tone.

"Shut up."

Y/N thinks this is the first actual party she's been invited to. Sure she went to her fair share of birthday parties and sleepovers, but they were all PG. Never had she seen so many red solo cups in one place before. One of her friends released an EP, and they're celebrating by hosting a huge party at their apartment.

Sarah helped her pick out her entire outfit and assured her she looks amazing. Y/N has always struggled with her appearance because her parents weren't around very much. Between business trips and trying to live their own lives, there wasn't time to acknowledge their daughter. She would be dragged to their business parties, and she would just feel surrounded by a bunch of white bigoted men who thought they were superior just because they get fat checks.

When they arrived, they were immediately greeted by the stench of alcohol and weed. The apartment was crowded and loud, and Y/N was beginning to get nervous.

"Hey, it's okay," Sarah assures her, and she nods in agreement. "Let's go find our people," Sarah suggests and loops her arm with Y/N's.

"I think I see Niall," Y/N points out, and her theory was proven correct when she hears his booming laugh. It eases her nerves, and she wraps her arm around her shoulder when she finally gets next to him. He's standing with Mitch, Harry, and a few other people she's casually met before. Sarah greets Mitch with a kiss and settles into his side.

"Y/N!" Niall shouts when he finally realizes who's hugging him. He embraces her, and she can tell he's a bit drunk with the way he leans his weight on her. "I didn't think you'd come!"

"None of us did," Harry interjected lowly under his breath, but she still heard him. They hadn't really interacted since that night at the bar.

"Harry," she nods to him when Niall releases her. He barely acknowledges her before he turns back to the guy he was talking to, but he can't help the way his gaze would sometimes drift back to her. It's so annoying how pretty she can be without even trying.

Harry hates how enamoring she is.

"Harry, oh my gosh, how are you?" He hears a voice come up from behind him then feels a hand wrap around his arm. Emma. A clingy girl he hooked up with about a month ago- a good distraction from the thoughts he's facing at the moment. He wraps his arm around her shoulder as if he cares about seeing her.

"Hey, babe, I'm good," he tells her.

Y/N watches the scene and tries to limit the disgust that wants to appear on her face. Niall wonders off, and she's left alone with the pair.

"Who's this?" Emma suddenly asks Harry, as if she is entitled to any kind of ownership over Harry. He wants to be pissed off, but he also wants Y/N to go away.

"My friend's friend," Harry tells her. Y/N feels her heart pang. He couldn't even call her his friend out of convenience.

"Oh, interesting," she says, and Harry can tell she's not convinced.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N! It's actually my first party, and you're really pretty! Do you-" She's cut off by the girl who's practically hanging off of Harry's arm.

"Do you have a thing for Harry?" She asks.

"Oh! What? No- no-"

"Chill, Emma," Harry says, and Y/N almost thanks him before he continues, "Don't worry, she's the complete opposite of my type," he assures with a cocky smirk. The two laugh, and Y/N wills herself to walk away.

It's an hour and a half later, and Y/N is more than ready to go home. She's leaned against a wall, her phone dead and her head hurting. She doesn't have the strength to go find her friends, and she's kind of hurt they've all left her at her first party. She knows that this isn't about her, but she's scared and nervous, and they knew that but still begged her to come. She's just sad and scared and wants to go home.

"Hey, are you okay?" She hears someone ask in her ear, and she almost jumps out of her skin.

"Oh gosh, you scared me!" She gasps and meets the eyes of who's talking to her. He's a very cute boy who's holding a red solo cup.

"Sorry!" He apologizes and touches her shoulder with a smile. She smiles back. "I'm Ian," He introduces himself, shaking her hand in his.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you," she tells him.

"So, I take it you don't usually come to parties," He asks, and she nods.

"My first one actually," she grimaces.

"Let's go get you a drink," he suggests and takes her hand in his, not waiting for an answer before taking her to the kitchen. It's surprisingly empty when they walk in.

"I don't- I uh- I don't drink," she admits.

"Ah, c'mon. One drink won't hurt," he tries to persuade her.

"No, thank you," she says again.

"Alright," he settles. "I think this punch is non-alcoholic," he says to himself and grabs her a cup. She zones out as he pours her a cup. She thinks this guy is cute, but she really just wants to go home. She's broken out of her thoughts when a cup is being handed to her, and an arm is being thrown around her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrow as 'Ian' leans closer to her. "Are you going to say thank you?" He asks, and his tone makes her skin crawl. She laughs awkwardly and tries to shift away from him, but his hands move to her waist and his grip is too tight.

"Ah- that hurts," she tells him, but he only tightens his grip, so she can't move. "I- I want to leave," she whimpers.

"Yeah? Let's go to mine," he says and tries to lean forward to put his mouth on her.

"No- no," she says and tries to push at him.

"Just one little kiss," he tells her. Her first kiss was about to be took from her. Tears roll down her cheeks as he gets closer, but fortunately, he's suddenly being roughly pulled away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Harry's loud and rough voice makes its way to her ears.

"Ay- the fuck, man? We're a bit busy," the scumbag tells Harry. "Didn't realize she was already claimed."

"A woman doesn't need to be claimed for you to not force yourself on her. Walk away, or I'm going to drown you in this punch," Harry warns, and the dude scurries off.

Harry's glare makes her want to cry all the more.

"C'mon," he says gruffly and with a gentle hand, he wraps his hand around her wrist, pulling her all the way outside and to his car. She doesn't even think twice about getting into his car and buckling. Her mind is a state of fog. Harry starts the car and rests his head against the steering wheel, his breathing rapid.

"Are you okay?" She asks gently.

"You- You're asking me if I'm okay?" He laughs condescendingly and buckles himself in before putting the car in drive.

"Well, you seem really mad, and- and maybe you shouldn't drive if-"

"I need you to stop talking," he says suddenly. "I mean seriously- what were you thinking, Y/N?" He asks with his voice raised.

"I don't- I don't-"

"Yeah, you don't think." Harry doesn't think he's ever been this mad before. He saw the beginnings of her and the guy- him practically dragging her to the kitchen and her just going along with it. He saw red. "Did you even watch as he poured you a drink? Do you even know this guy before you just ran off with him?" His questions upset her further, making her feel stupid.

"I was- I was just flustered, and I wanted to go home, and I didn't know what to do-"

"You don't fucking follow a random dickhead alone at a party!" His voice is loud in the small car. It's quiet for a moment, giving him a second to just focus on the road in front of him as he heads to her house when he hears a stifled cry that breaks him out of his moment. "Are you crying?" His anger falters.

"Well, yeah!" She sobs. "I was left alone at my first party- then I almost get molested- now, I was forced to get in the car with you, and- and- and I'm just scared!" She cries.

Harry doesn't particularly know what to do in this situation. All he knows is that his heart is twisting and pulling in his chest.

"There's nothing to be scared about now." His voice is incredibly softer than before.

"I'm stuck in- in the car of the guy who hates me, and I'm scared," she whimpers, her chest heaving as she tries to suck in air between each word.

Harry's heart dies.

"You're scared of me?" His voice is quiet and insecure.

"Yes," she says simply as if she doesn't understand the gravity of her words. Harry continues driving as he feels wet droplets fall down his cheeks. "Are you- Are you crying?" She asks, concerned but also confused. The tables have turned.

"Well, yeah!" He laughs sadly. He's never felt more like a piece of shit.

"Um- I don't- I don't know what to do," she admits. The car is silent until they pull into her driveway. Harry still has tears running down his cheeks, and Y/N feels frozen.

"Okay- we're um- we're here," he announces as if she doesn't know she's at her own home.

"Harry, why don't you come inside. I don't feel comfortable letting you drive home," she tells him.

"I'm f-fine," he tries to laugh it off, wiping roughly at his red eyes.

"If not for you, I really don't want to be alone right now," she admits.

"But I thought- You're scared of me?" He questions.

"I was merely being dramatic. Tonight was heavy, and you're the most unlikely person to be with at the moment," she explains. "C'mon. I'll brew us a pot of tea," she encourages and gets out of the car. Harry thinks for a moment before ultimately getting out of the car and sheepishly following her up. She unlocks the door and ushers him inside quickly before her mut could escape.

"Hi, Pickle," he greets her dog quietly.

"You remember his name," she says, shocked while bending down to scratch at Pickle's ears.

"'Course," he agrees and also pets her dog.

"Okay, I'm going to go put on a pot of tea. Make yourself comfortable," she tells him before scurrying off to her kitchen.

Harry, still feeling emotional, wanders around the room, looking at pictures. He notices he's not in any. He knows he had no right to be. Still, it makes him cry harder.

"Okay, I've got- oh," she freezes with two cups of tea in her hands as she watches Harry breaking down in front of her. She sets the tea down on her coffee table. "Why don't you come sit down, Harry?" She suggests with a soft voice and sits down on the couch herself.

"I'm sorry. This is so em-embarrassing," he cries and plops down on the couch, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shake.

"Um do you- I can-" Y/N splutters words as she tries to figure out what to do. "Do you want a hug?" She finally asks. She thinks she's the one that should be being comforted right now, but it almost makes her happy to see this side of Harry. Not that she enjoys anyone's sadness, but it's nice to see him vulnerable instead of conniving. Harry slowly looks up at her, and she holds her arms out. He cries as he shuffles into her arms. His face is buried in her chest as she rubs at his back.

"I'm sorry, that's not who I am," he repeats over and over even though she shushes him. They stay in this position, Harry's arms wrapped around her and hers around him as Harry starts to calm down. Harry takes in the moment. She smells fucking divine and feels so soft against him. He never wants to move. Then her phone rings. She starts to get up, but he shakes his head groaning, "No."

"Okay, then," she sighs before shifting to get her phone out of her back pocket. Harry lays flat against her body as she answers Sarah's phone call, his nose nudging at her tummy as he continues to sniffle. She courses her fingers through his hair making him stifle back a moan. He can't believe the full 180 his brain has done on him, but he can't find an ounce of hatred he once felt towards her. He doesn't want to either.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Y/N? Oh, Y/N, I've been looking for you. Where are you?" Sarah asks frantically, and Y/N can barely hear her over the loud party music.

"I uh- I left," she tells her, and Harry rests his chin on her chest to look up at her. She hates to admit it, but her breath gets caught in her throat looking at Harry's red, puffy eyes. She's always thought he's the most attractive person she's ever met, but right now, he looks so effortlessly pretty. He looks gentle for the first time ever.

"Are you safe? Where are you?" Sarah continues to ask.

"I'm home."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. I thought Niall would have stayed with you, so I thought it was okay to leave you with him, but he didn't and-"

"It's okay, Sarah," she assures. She doesn't want her friend to feel bad. The thought makes her stomach churn.

"No, it's not," Harry counters, and Y/N presses a finger to her lips, but it's too late.

"Is that Harry?" Sarah asks.

"Um, yeah. He took me home. There was a slight problem at the party- some guy wasn't leaving me alone," Y/N explains.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Can I come over? Mitch and I will bring food, and Niall can-"

"No, no, Sarah it's okay! You don't have to do any of that. Harry's not bothering me- we're good." Harry smiles at that and lays his head back down on her chest.

"Okay," Sarah replies, doubtful. "I'm going to make it up to you. It was so fucking inconsiderate of me, especially with your past and anxiety-"

"Okay, Sarah, I got to go!" She says. Harry caught the last of what Sarah said, and his eyebrows furrow. They say their goodbyes before hanging up. Y/N sighs and tilts her head up to stare at the ceiling. They sit in silence as Harry's sniffling comes to an end. "Feel better?" she breaks the silence.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answers. "What did Sarah mean by 'your past'?" Harry asks. He feels Y/N tense, and he immediately regrets asking. "I'm sorry- you don't have to answer. I was being-"

"No, it's okay," she sighs. "I just- my parents weren't the greatest, and I just struggle with crowded environments," Y/N explains loosely.

"Oh," Harry answers. "I'm sorry," he adds.

"It's fine. People have it worse than me."

"It's still okay to be upset by it," Harry rebuts.

"Thanks, Harry, but you're kind of the last person I will take advice from. No offense," she tries to explain gently.

"Fair enough," he laughs without humor. He feels her push at his shoulder, so he takes the hint and gets off her. He wants to whine from the loss of her touch, and it confuses him.

"You're really confusing me, Harry," Y/N admits as she sits up. She grabs her own tea and takes a sip before continuing. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful doing something so domestic. "I mean, you've done a complete 180 in your behavior, and as much as I enjoy you not tormenting me anymore," Harry winces, "I don't understand it, and I don't trust it. I don't trust you."

"I know, I know," he sighs and covers his face with his hands. "I don't understand it either," he admits. Y/N scoffs and puts her cup down. "What?" he asks.

"You don't want to hear it," she mutters.

"Tell me," he encourages.

"It's just- It's really unfair, Harry. You do understand that, right?"

"I don't-" He looks at her in confusion. She continues.

"You can't just completely change your behavior in the course of an hour. I let you have peace for a while because I could tell you were really upset, but if you want to move forward- it's going to take a lot from the both of us," she explains.

A long silence ensues.

"I'm stupid- I'm sorry. You probably don't even care about any of that. Jesus-"

Harry realizes at the moment the exact mental state his actions have and still put her brain in. He makes her insecure and scared. His mom and sister would be so disappointed.

"Stop, Y/N, stop," he pleads. She stops. "Don't talk about yourself that way," he grimaces.

"That's how you talk about me to my face," she counters. "What the fuck else am I supposed to think?" Harry thinks that's the first time he's ever heard her curse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," she sighs and ducks her head. Harry can't help but admire her now. His brain is so mushed and confused with this sudden switch.

"Don't- don't apologize. I deserve much worse," he admits.

"I just don't understand your motive. Is this a joke?" she asks.

"Y/N, I'm being honest when I say I don't understand myself either. When I used to see you, you would just anger me. You reminded me of girls in high school that would bully my sister. They all started out super nice and kind, but somewhere along the way, they would realize that they had my sister wrapped around their finger, and they would toy with her. I love my mom and my sister, and I will always protect them and those around me, and so I just hated you. Dad was never around, so I had to step up."

The confession makes Harry feel as if a pile of bricks was finally removed from his chest. He realizes this is how he would have felt if he had just talked to Y/N in the beginning.

"I guess I can understand more now where your behavior came from but- I'm not like that. You've known me for so long, and I've never- I'm not-"

"Y/N, I don't think you realize just how completely entranced everyone is with you. Anyone would do anything for you because of the spell you put on people," Harry explains. "And I see now that it's not a bad thing to be under your spell. You're kind and patient and good. I've always known that. I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to like you, but how can I not?" By the end of Harry's speech, they're both in tears.

The draw he feels for her is indescribable.

He's leaning in before he knows it. His hand on her cheek, her eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Their lips are close when she speaks.

"What- What are you doing?" she stutters.

"Please," he whispers.

"Please what?" she asks. He doesn't know if she genuinely doesn't know what he's doing, or if she's asking him to beg, but both ideas make his dick harden.

"Please let me kiss you," he begs. He places his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, relishing in the way she sighs and softly moans. He cups her face with both hands, but before he could place their lips together, she stops him. She places both her hands on his wrists and turns her head.

"Harry, no," she whimpers. He immediately stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I don't- I don't know," she stammers.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?" Harry presses.

"I just- Harry, I want my first kiss to be with someone who actually likes me," she admits.

"I- I do like you," Harry tells her. "Wait- your first kiss?"

"Yeah, my first," she says sheepishly. "And I want it to be with someone who is attracted to me."

"I am attracted to you!" Harry encourages.

"No- Harry, you said it yourself- literally tonight- that I am 'the opposite of your type'," you counter while using air-quotes.

"That wasn't-" Harry realizes he's dug himself into a deep hole.

"It's okay, Harry. I know that it's going to be harder to find someone who likes me, but I know it can happen, and I want all my firsts to be with that person," Y/N explains. "I'm not going to kiss someone who just feels bad for me," she says, shaking herself out of his grip to look away, but he turns her face back to him.

"I am, Y/N. I am so attracted to you, and I think that's why I was even more of a dick because I hated that I was so fucking attracted to you," Harry tries to tell her, but she softly shakes her head with a sad smile.

"But you don't like me."

"I do."

"I can't tell. You have to realize how absurd your behavior is to me, right now. Harry, you've been so awful to me for so long, and I'm just not ready to forgive or believe you, I'm sorry- it's too quick," she tells him, her eyes holding all sincerity. Harry feels his own well up again, and she cups his cheek because even though she doesn't trust Harry, she never wants to see anyone sad. "Thank you for- for explaining to me why you acted the way you did- while it doesn't excuse your actions, I do appreciate it and your heart for your family and friends, and I'm more than willing to begin trying now with you." Her explanation ends with Harry in tears and her thumbs whipping them away. "Do you- Would you want to stay the night?" she asks.

Harry feels new hope in his chest.

"You sure?" he chokes out. She nods her head with a soft smile and stands. Harry looks up at her with all the wonder in the world and presses his chin to her stomach while she holds his hand.

"C'mon," she whispers, and she gasps quietly when he presses a gentle kiss to her clothed stomach before standing up with her.

They hold hands as they go to her bedroom, and Harry can't help the way he smiles.

"Let me go get you a change of clothes," Y/N says before disappearing in her closet. He looks around her room for a minute and can't help the comfort and warmth he feels. It's just so her. After a moment, he hears her talking in the closet and thinks she's telling him to come in. He opens the door, and his eyes grow wide when he sees her standing in front of her mirror in just her jeans and bra. Harry purses his lips as his eyes take in her body, and he fights the groan that wants to fall from his mouth. "Harry!" She gasps and covers her chest.

"Sorry!" He's finally broken out of gaze. "I thought I heard you- Hey, what is that?" His eyes zero in on the bruises that cover both sides of her waist and ribs. She looks down as well and bites her lip.

"Um, I think they're from that guy," she whispers defeatedly. He slowly moves closer to her, giving her time to back away or tell him to stop, but she just stares at him with wide glossy eyes. He carefully and with the utmost gentleness he can muster, places his hands on her hips. Softly caressing them, and the bruises littering her skin. He takes a moment just to take her in before speaking.

"I'll kill him," he sneers. It makes her softly laugh.

"No, you won't," she disagrees and shakes her head. "I'm okay," she says. dipping her head down to meet his eyes.

"You're very pretty," Harry counters. She blushes before moving away to get him clothes. Once she hands him the oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, she leaves the room to let him change. She finds and extra toothbrush for him, and once they both finish their night routine, they crawl into her bed, keeping to their own reserved sides and both staring at the ceiling. "Thank you for letting me stay," Harry says, his head turning to look at her. His breathing falters as he looks at her. She just smiles in return.

"Just no funny business," she says softly before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. They sit in silence before Harry adjusts himself. They both quietly gasp when his hand skims her own. His hand freezes over hers for a moment before he gently intertwines their pinkies. She makes the bold decision to, with her free hand, lean over and feel for his cheek before planting the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. "Good night, Harry."

Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face and new hope settling into his mind.

Y/N wakes the following morning to a loud banging sound and a heavy weight on her chest. Her eyes squint open, the sun shining through her curtains and to her irises. She groans and closes her eyes again until she hears the banging continue. Her eyes are wide now with fear and confusion. She tries to move to grab her phone but quickly realizes her body is immobilized because of a big sleeping Harry laying on her, his shirt now off his chest. His mouth is slightly agape, laying at the top of her breast. His arms are encircled around her waist and holding her tight. It was much different from the pinkies they had entangled the previous night.

"Harry," she whispers and tries to budge his shoulder. He doesn't move, just continues to heavily breathe against her clothed tit. The banging, which Y/N has realized is just loud knocking, continues, and she really needs to get up. "Harry!" she says louder and pushes at his head. He groans and yawns sleepily. "Get up!" she demands, but he's barely conscious.

"Morning," he sighs dreamily and settles back down on her, pressing a wet kiss to the top of her boob. He's broken out of his dreamy state when he finally hears the knocking. "What the hell?" he groans and sits up on his elbows, still caging her in.

"I need to go see who's at the door," she whines and pushes at him. He whines as well and gets up, taking her hand in his to take them both to the front door.

"I'm going to kill whoever is out here," he tells her, and she laughs because she doesn't believe he's fully awake yet. She likes morning grumpy Harry a lot more than normal grumpy Harry. As soon as he opens the door, people are barging in.

"Finally!" Someone yells, and Y/N's able to place the voice to Niall. She watches as he, Mitch, and Sarah all welcome their selves into her home with bags of food. The chill from the outside makes her shrink into Harry's side, and he wraps an arm around her before shutting the door. He rubs his hand up and down her arm to create heat for her.

"Is someone going to tell me what you all are doing in my home on this Sunday morning? Not that I mind, of course," she says and hugs each one of them as they get their coats and hats off.

"We felt like shit after being the shittiest friends ever last night," Sarah explains.

"Hey-" Y/N begins to stop her, but Niall cuts her off.

"No, it's true, Y/N. Felt like my heart shattered in my chest when Sarah and Mitch came to me all panicked cause they couldn't find you," Niall explains. His eyebrow quirks as he watches his best friend, who seemed to still despise the girl not even twenty-four hours ago, wrap his sleepy body around her, his chin resting on her shoulder as his body pressed against hers from behind. "Though it looks as if it might have been for the best that we lost you," Niall suggests and cocks his head. Y/N shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, saying 'yeah, I don't understand it either'.

"Anyways," Mitch breaks the silence. "We thought we'd bring you breakfast then go to the winter festival in town."

"Sounds perfect," she says and moves away from Harry to set the table. Harry has to physically stop himself from whining, but Niall, Sarah, and Mitch all see his pout and look at him with questioning eyes. He blushes under their questioning stares. When she walks into the kitchen to retrieve silverware, they start asking the questions.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah asks first.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry says innocently.

"You're acting like her pet, and not even a full day ago, you couldn't stand her. I'm definitely not saying it's a bad thing, but what-" Niall stops speaking because he genuinely doesn't know what to ask.

"Look, I don't understand it either," Harry begins, "But I just- I don't know. Something's changed. There was some weird fucking pervert at the party that was scaring her, and then when we were in the car, she admitted that she was scared of me, and it genuinely killed me to know that I was grouped in the same space in her head with that dickhead from the party," Harry explains. "I don't get it, but my mind has completely flipped, and all I want to do is just be around her."

"Wow," Mitch was the first to speak.

"Yeah, I know," Harry groans. "We had a really good talk last night, and I think she's willing to move forward."

"You know, Harry," Niall speaks, "There's a saying that there's a very fine line between love and hate," Niall sings with a mischievous voice.

"I'm not even going to argue with that," Harry sighs, and none of them have any time to speak on Harry's crazy admission because Y/N is coming back into the room with silverware, plates, and napkins. She eyes the tension in the room.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asks.

"Nothing, Angel. Let's get you some food," Harry tells her.

The town was decorated in the most beautiful festive decorations. Y/N felt real joy for the first time in a long time as she walked through the streets filled with vendors with her friends. She couldn't help how cute she thinks Harry looks as well. He borrowed a hoodie from her and was in his jeans and sneakers. He wore the hood up as he munched on a soft pretzel he bought. She couldn't help the urge to whip out her digital camera and snap a picture, not realizing the flash was on. She blushes when she realizes he caught her.

"Hey!" he accuses her. "I'm trying to eat my pretzel here!" He complains and pouts.

"Sorry," she laughs. "You just looked really cute," she admits. His cheeks flush red before he quickly shakes it away.

"Yeah? Well, you're cuter, and I'm keeping this hoodie by the way," he tells her before walking away. She follows him quickly and loops her arm around his waist to catch him.

Harry's cheeks seem as though they're now a permanent blush around her. He'd always seen how affectionate she was with their friends, and he thoroughly enjoyed finally being a receiver because he loves physical touch- especially from a very beautiful woman.

"You can't keep my hoodie, you thief. I barely have any as is," she complains and slips her hand under the hoodie to feel the plush at his hips. He always hated the extra skin at his waist, but now he thanks his mother for it. He feels overtly bashful at her touch, like he wants to smile and kick his feet like a teenage girl with a crush.

"I'll buy you some more, Angel. Just tell me if there's a shop you want to walk in," he tells her gently and wraps the arm that isn't holding his pretzel around her shoulder.

"Give me a bite," she suddenly says. Harry gawks.

"Uh- sorry, what?" He stutters.

"Of your pretzel, you perv!" she laughs at his flustered expression.

"Oh!" he laughs and reaches his hand out in front of her to let her bite the pretzel from his hand. He gasps when she takes the rest of the pretzel into her mouth. "Hey!" he whines and pouts at his empty hand.

"Sorry," she apologizes once she finishes chewing. She squeezes his side as she speaks, "I was hungry," she says with an evil smirk.

"Rude. Very rude," he comments though he pulls her tighter against him.

Little did they know, all of their friends were snapping pictures of them from behind, snickering and chatting about the newfound lovebirds.

Y/N and Harry seemed to be attached by the hip as the weeks went on. It had been almost two months since their new friendship was born, and neither of them realized how much they would click. Many nights were spent having dinner, singing karaoke, and watching movies together. When they were with their friends, they were always attentive to each other and sitting by one another.

It's a Friday, and Harry was on his way to visit her library right now. He'd been visiting her a lot and using it as a nice place to get work done. Work had been pretty stressful for Harry recently. He was managing a project for his company that's building a new stadium, and it's challenging in ways he hasn't been before, so while he's thankful for the opportunity, it comes with a lot more planning and map-outs than usual.

When he walks in, he sees her at the counter. Her shift is over in an hour, and he told her he'd pick her up once she got off, but he decided he could get some work done while he waited.

She's re-binding a book when he walks up, totally engrossed in the practice. So much so that she doesn't see Harry looming over her across the counter. He rings the bell that sits next to a box of tissues on the counter. She jumps and gasps when she looks up. A bright smile quickly covers her face.

"You're here early, puppy!" She walks around the counter to greet him as he blushes over the nickname. Ever since they became friends, their friends joked about how Harry follows her around like a dog, so she decided the nickname was fitting.

She squeezes him tight and wraps her arms around his waist as she looks up at him. Her chin rests on his chest as she speaks.

"How was work? Are you sore? I can give you a massage when we go to mine. I've been watching a lot of videos because I know your back hurts you a lot, and-" She tends to lose all sort of mind whenever he's around, and he has to reign her in.

"Angel," he interrupts her and laughs when she pauses abruptly.

"Sorry, I was rambling," she blushes. He kisses her forehead.

"It's okay. I love hearing you speak," he tells her honestly.

Harry never takes for granted the way she speaks to him because there used to be a time when she was too afraid to.

"I would love a massage, my love," he tells her and kisses her temple. "Work was good- fun. Got to tear down walls today, and that's always really fun, and before you ask, I promise I was wearing all the right gear, so don't go scolding me," he eyes her, and she smirks.

"Good boy," she says.

Harry damn near busts in his jeans at her praise. She continues talking like nothing happened.

"Why are you here so early? I don't get off for another hour."

"I- um. I- I know. I was- I figured I could get some work done," he stutters out.

"Okay, silly," she laughs at his speech. She unwraps herself from him and walks behind the counter. "You can sit back here with me. I'm the only one working," she offers, and he nods his head. She places a stool next to hers, and they both get to work for the next hour.

"We've watched this movie a billion times, H! Not again!" Y/N complains when Harry tries to put on The Notebook for the millionth time. They're both cozied on her couch after eating some takeout sushi. Harry's wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. Y/N's wearing a new purple hoodie Harry bought for her and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. Harry had been fighting the urge to stare at her thighs since they got back.

"Well, until you get some good movie taste, we're watching mine." They're banter was playful and not harmful.

Y/N huffed as he started the movie and scooted to other side of her couch, away from him.

"Don't be mad at me, sweet girl," he says before pulling her sideways into his lap. "Be mad at yourself and your terrible movies," he laughs and tightens his arms around her when she tries to escape his hold. She continues to squirm until he pulls her close and bites down on her neck. She lets an airy moan escape her lips as he sucks and kisses at the spot.

"Teething at me like a needy puppy," she tells him and cards her fingers through his hair. Y/N has never been with a boy before, so she doesn't know if what her and Harry are doing is normal or not for just friends, but she doesn't care. She just likes what he does. "Are you seeing anyone right now?" she asks him out of nowhere. The angst she would feel if he said yes would make her cry.

"I'm seeing you all the time," he tells her and kisses at her chin and jawline. It was when Harry got like this that she had a hard time thinking clearly. She thinks she would say yes to whatever he asked if he was being as lovey as he gets.

"I mean are you dating any girl right now," she corrects him.

"I know what you meant, Angel," he tells her. "I haven't seen anyone but you since the night of the party," he says honestly, and it makes her smile and place her head against his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair as he speaks. "It's totally okay whatever your answer is to this, but I wanted to ask you." Her head quirks up to look at him with a confused face. "Have you uh- Have you forgiven me?" He asks, and he immediately looks away. "It is more than okay if you haven't because I was incredibly awful to you for so long, and I know if I was you, I would have a hard time-" She presses her hand against his mouth to shut him up.

"I forgive you, Harry," she says. "Forgave you a long time ago," she tells him honestly and releases her hand from his mouth.

"You serious?" he asks, and she nods. His eyes well with tears, and he hugs her to his chest. "Thank you. I don't deserve you," he whispers into her hair and kisses her head. They watch the movie for a while until Harry speaks again. "You remember that night when I tried to kiss you?" He asks.

"'Course," she tells him, wondering why he's bringing it up.

"Have you kissed anyone since then?" She sits up to look at him.

"Now when would I have had the time to?" She gestures to his hold on her. "You've got me locked down 24/7," she laughs.

"Would you say no if I asked to kiss you now?" he asks, bracing himself for the answer. She takes a moment to think about it.

"I would definitely let you kiss me," she tells him, and he grabs her face, about to plant a big smooch on her lips until she stops him, laughing at his eagerness. "But wouldn't that make this weird?"

"Make what weird?" he asks.

"Us," she tells him.

"Nothing has to be weird unless you make it weird," he tells her.

"But- but we're in such a good place as friends-"

"Friends kiss all the time!" Harry counters, though it makes his heart clench at the thought of them just being friends. "Though I do think we're a bit more than that," he adds, and she smiles. He becomes serious again, holding both sides of her face in his strong, rough hands. "I'll make it so good for you," he promises.

"I don't know, puppy," she sighs, but they both know she wants it. She just wants to make him work for it a bit.

"Please, please," he whispers.

"Just one little kiss," she tells him. He nods his head and begins to lean forward. She cups both of his wrists like she had done that first night and breathes shakily until his lips finally meet hers. She sighs, her first kiss finally taken. She doesn't even know if it counts as a kiss because their lips are just pressed together until they start smiling against each other. She pulls back to giggle, but he pulls her back in, this time actually kissing her. His lips massage her own, and she doesn't really know what's she's doing, but she just tries to mimic his actions. He moans as she picks up on it quite quickly. "Okay," she breathes and backs away. Harry whines and cups the back of her neck to try and reel her in.

"Please. A little more. You're so good- taste heavenly," he comments. Harry feels like he's experiencing his first kiss again as well. Nothing had ever felt like that before. Nothing had ever felt so good. He could feel himself chubbing up in his pants just from the one kiss.

"I told you one kiss, Harry," she reprimands him, but he shakes his head.

"Was it not good for you?" He asks. He knows she enjoyed it. She's panting like a dog in heat, and he can see her subconsciously pressing her thighs together. He just wants her to kiss him again. "My lips not good enough for your perfect mouth, pet?" he asks with a pout and lets a finger caress her bottom lip.

"No, that's not it at all, Harry!" she says eagerly. "It was perfect. The best first kiss I could have asked for. I just don't want to complicate things," she tells him.

"It's already complicated, babe. That's our thing," he tries to reason, and she laughs. He can see her slowly start to let down her wall, and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss at her neck and jaw, trying to coerce her more.

"It did feel very good," she sighs and grabs the back of his neck, holding him against her own.

"Yeah?" he mumbles against her skin before sucking a hickey into her neck.

"Yeah," she moans softly. "Okay, okay, I don't care anymore. Just kiss me," she begs.

"Sound so sweet begging for me," he tells her and cups her cheeks, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. Her eyes well as she waits for him to lay one on her.

"Harry, c'mon," she whimpers.

"Don't cry on me," he coos. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait. I'll give you what you want, my love," he assures her and with that, plants his lips back on hers. She's more eager this time around. Her lips move more feral against his, and he groans deeply when she nips at his bottom lip. The exchanging of saliva makes her feel dirty in the best way possible. She's still sitting sideways on her lap, but her body is aching for her to straddle his thighs and grind against his crotch as she pushes her tongue against his. Harry realizes very quickly how dirty she is for being a virgin. Her tongue found its way into his mouth first, and she didn't hesitate to mold hers against his. Harry fights the urge to move his hands lower and grasp at her body, but he doesn't want to scare her by moving too quickly. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait much longer until she's requesting exactly what he wanted.

"Can I sit in your lap?" she asks breathlessly. She doesn't let him speak, instead missing the way his mouth felt against hers too bad that she kisses him again, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling in a way that makes him whine.

"You are sitting in my lap," he mumbles against her lips.

"No, I mean like- Can I just show you?" she asks impatiently. He nods his head and chokes on his own spit as she straddles his thighs and presses her crotch down onto his roughly. "This okay?" she asks.

"S-so okay," he tells her and grips her hips.

"Why does that feel so good?" she asks rhetorically and continues to roll her hips against his.

"Baby- I don't think you know what you're doing," he tells her. She shrugs and continues to do it because it feels good against her pussy. "Wait, wait, wait," he makes her pause.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"More than," he assures her. "But I want to talk to you first before we go any farther."

"Okay, well hurry up because I would like to continue." He laughs at her horny, foggy mind that's making her bolder than usual.

"I need to know what all you've done- sexually speaking," he tells her.

"You know I'm a virgin, Harry," she says. "I've never done anything with anyone- well, until now," she smiles, and he reciprocates.

"Right, but what have you done by yourself?" he asks, and she blushes. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he reassures her.

"I've touched myself before," she admits, and he tries his best not to whimper at the thought.

"Okay. Do you know all the terms of anatomy down there?" he asks.

"Yes, professor," she laughs.

"So, when you touch yourself, do you just play with your pretty little clit, or do you put fingers into yourself? Or do you have a toy?" She becomes bashful at his blunt speech.

"I usually do one finger inside and my other hand playing with my clit," she admits shyly.

"You're so fucking hot," he tells her honestly before grabbing her face to kiss her. She moans at his roughness. "Okay, okay, wait," he stops himself. She whines. "I need to know what you're comfortable with us doing, my love," he tells her.

"I just want to keep doing what we're doing," she whimpers.

"Okay? You like grinding yourself against me?" He asks, and she nods her head while biting her lip. Harry wishes he had his phone to take a picture of her. The embodiment of sex, and she didn't even realize. "We can both cum from that," he tells her. "You want to- Do you want to go that far?" he asks, and she nods her head eagerly. "Words," he commands.

"Yes, yes please," she begs.

"How would you feel about both of us stripping to our underwear, so we can feel each other a bit better?" he asks.

"Sounds really good, Harry," she says and immediately stands up to take her shorts off, but he stops her.

"You're incredibly cute with how eager you are," he laughs, and she turns red. He kisses her clothed stomach to assure her it's nothing to be ashamed of. "Let me take them off," he suggests. What she didn't expect was for Harry to sink to his knees in front of her and kiss at her thighs a bit first. It makes her feel extra hot having his mouth so close to her core. "Have you ever watched porn?" he asks suddenly as he bites a hickey into her thigh.

"Yes," she says breathily.

"What do you watch, dirty girl?" he asks as he sinks his teeth into the waistband of her shorts and starts to pull them down her legs.

"Um-" she stutters at the question.

"It's okay," he assures her. "It's just me," he says and squeezes her thighs in support. It was like those three words were all the encouragement she needed. He rests his chin between her thighs as she begins to speak.

"Well, I like to watch men um- eating out girls. I like to watch rough stuff, and I think I would like that a lot, but I think I would also like to just make love," she explains. "I also like watching girls giving blowjobs," she says suddenly like she had almost forgotten. "I also," she begins but stops herself in embarrassment.

"What is it? You're safe to talk to me, Angel," he assures her.

"I like to... read about things," she says.

"Okay. Explain," he tells her.

"Well, like- smut. I like to read little things people write about people fucking," she admits shyly.

"And what are the people doing in your favorite ones?" he asks.

"I like when they write the guy just being completely overtaken by his natural instincts to- to fuck the girl- almost feral- he's just taking what he wants, you know?" she explains.

"Did you know you're perfect? Like actually fucking enthralling?" he asks and basks in the way her face reddens. "I'm serious, Y/N," he tells her.

"Thank you, H. You're very captivating yourself," she comments.

"Oh?" he questions as he stands. His nose meets hers and they play tag with their mouth for a moment before she just leans forward and pecks him.

"You're an incredibly beautiful man. Always thought so- even before," she says honestly. His heart twists a bit at the mention of before. "The most alluring man I've ever seen," she tells him.

"You can't mean that," he disagrees, and his breathing shakes when he feels her play with the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I can, and I do," she tells him and presses her hand over the large bulge in his sweatpants. He actually moans from the contact- not expecting it from her.

"You're dirty," he gasps, and they both laugh. She doesn't waste another second before pulling his sweats down his legs and letting him step out of them.

She sits on her knees to love on him a bit. She's always loved his meaty sides, and now that she has the opportunity, she doesn't think twice before sinking her teeth into his loves handles. She smiles when he gasps as she kisses and nipples at his flesh. She surprises him once again when she presses her mouth against the bulge, letting her hot breath feed into the fabric and to his cock. He wants to push her away because he's afraid he's going to cum too soon, but he also knows that's the stupidest idea when he's got the most irresistible woman in the world with her mouth on him. It's when he feels her lick at his tip through his briefs when he back away and sits on the couch, shielding his clothed dick with his hands as if to protect himself from her.

She smiles at him as devilishly as an angel could. "You have an oral fixation," he notes, and she shrugs.

"Let's get to the fun stuff," she whines and crawls all the way to the couch and onto his lap. Harry doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on.

"You know you're every man's fantasy?" he asks, and she cocks her head in confusion. "A hot librarian," he expands, and she laughs.

"Yeah? You want me to read you a bedtime story, baby?" she asks, trying to make her voice sound sultrier, and it works. Harry's dick twitches in his boxers.

"I'm gonna cream in my boxers," he warns, and she laughs.

"Please, don't. We haven't even had any fun yet," she complains, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"Just start rubbing your cute little cunt on my cock," he instructs her, and she wastes no time before she puts her hands on his shoulders and begins to rut against him.

"Oh," she gasps. From the way his dick is positioned in his underwear, it's perfectly laid out for her to rub her clit against. "Is your- Is your dick big?" she suddenly asks. Harry, who was in a trance already from the way she was shamelessly grinding on him, splutters for words from her question.

"W-What?" he asks, his hips jutting up to press against her roughly out of instinct. They both moan at the sensation.

"It just- It feels really big, and sometimes you get a big bulge in your pants," she moans and bounces on his lap, trying to catch her clit on his tip.

"I have been told it is- yeah," he tells her. To be honest, he knows his dick is big. He knows it's really big. He usually would be cocky about it, but he doesn't want to scare her.

"Can I see?" she asks breathlessly.

"What?" he asks, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Well," she begins, her hips stopping their movement. "I was just thinking that if maybe you were naked that it might feel better," she tells him. Harry's frozen in shock, but she takes it as him being unsure. "C'mon, please," she begs. "I'll let you cum on me," she adds.

"Where?" he asks.

"My- my pussy," she says quietly.

"Hop up," he tells her, and she quickly crawls to the spot on the couch next to him. She's about bouncing from how excited she is.

"Take your shirt off too." He laughs at how demanding the virgin is being.

"Need to spank your attitude out of you," he says as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah, right," she scoffs but is silenced with his glare.

"I'm not going to show you my dick if you're going to be mean," he tells her and watches how her eyes round with wetness.

"I'm not being mean!" she complains.

"Yeah, you are, pet. And I'm being so nice to you- showing you everything, and you're acting like you don't care," he reprimands her. He's surprised when he feels her arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Please, puppy. Show me, please. I'll be so sweet to you," she pleads, her voice muffled in his neck. Harry smiles, feeling like he's won the jackpot in life.

"Give me a kiss first," he commands, and she acts quick. Because she acted on fast movements, her hands lands his neck to stabilize herself. Harry moans at the pressure it provides for him.

"You like my hand around your neck?" she asks. He feels himself begin to nod submissively but remembers that he needs to be in charge for the moment. He switches on her, instead cupping her neck with his hand. She gasps, and her jaw falls from the movement.

"I do, baby, about as much as I like my hand around yours." He uses the grip he has on her throat to pull her closer and spit into her mouth. She moans and swallows easily. "Okay, enough foreplay," he tells her and releases her neck to shimmy his underwear off. The gasp he hears from her when his dick comes into view is welcomed gladly.

"It's so big, H," she tells him and continues to stare at it. She gulps at the thought of it being inside of her.

"Don't have to worry about it being inside you tonight, pet," he tells her as if he could read her mind. "It's gonna make you feel so good though."

"It's so pretty, puppy," she tells him, and she feels the urge to put her mouth on him, but she holds back, not wanting to upset him.

He pets her hair as he talks to her, "Can we try a different position than last time?" he asks.

"Whatever you want to do," she tells him, and he smiles.

"Just make sure to let me know if you don't feel good or like what I'm doing," he asks as he cups her face. She smiles softly and leans forward to lightly kiss him.

"Thank you for doing this, Harry," she tells him sincerely and places another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for letting me," he says. They both lock eyes and their lips meet again, completely forgetting about what they were supposed to be doing. The kiss is passionate instead of rough. Their lips are eager but not rushed. Harry ends it with pecking her lips a few times, making her giggle. "Okay, enough sap. We can do that after. I feel like I'm going to burst," he says, and she laughs.

"How do you want me?" she asks.

"On your knees, face pressed against the couch," he tells her, and she blushes before complying. Harry moans as she sticks her ass in the air. He's quick to get on his own knees behind her. He holds his dick up and places himself against her, grabbing her hips once he's in place. They both groan at the contact. He slowly starts to use the leverage he has on her hips to grind her against him, making sure to angle her up, so her clit is grinding against him.

"That feel so good, puppy," she whines and begins to throw her hips back at him. His hold on her tightens, but he allows her to help his efforts in making them both feel good. Harry has never done anything like this before, and it feels so fucking good. He raises her up enough so that her clit is catching at his tip before he lowers her back down to rub along his length. He thanks his job for the strength he has to lift her up and down on him like this. He takes a break from the rubbing to harshly thrust his hips against her as if he was fucking her for real.

"I can't wait to have my dick inside you," he moans.

"Yeah, baby?" she asks breathlessly, and he whines a yes. He groans when he feels her wetness seep from her panties onto his cock.

"Creamy little pussy," he moans and takes his dick away from her for a moment to rub his finger on her clothed clit. Her hips just forward at the surprising touch, but he lightly spanks her as a warning to stay in place. His finger ventures up to press at her hold through the opening, and the whiny moan that she releases only makes him press harder.

"I wanna see your face," she says quietly, and he could almost cry from how sweet she sounds. He taps her hip, so she takes the hint and turns around to lay flat on her back. She smiles up at him once she can see him, and he can't believe there was ever a time where he hated this girl.

"You're so beautiful, and you're doing so good for me," he tells her as he cups her head and kisses her hair. "Do you feel good?" he asks.

"Very," she answers quickly. "I want to try something though," she says shyly.

"What is it? Whatever you want," he assures.

"Can I show you?" she asks, and he nods his head. He gasps when she wraps a gentle hand around his dick, a bit of precum slipping from the tip when she gives a little tug. He thinks he dies when she slips her underwear to the side and places her bare dick against her naked pussy. She throws her head back at the contact and more cum oozes from Harry's dick.

"Oh, baby," he moans and places a hand on the length of his dick to press down on it as he glides against her pussy. She isn't shaved, but she's trimmed and well-groomed like Harry is, and it makes it feel so much better with the extra sensation. He uses two fingers to spread her open, so his dick rubs right over her clit, and he thinks she might die at the expression she makes. Her mouth is dropped, and her eyebrows are scrunched together in pleasure. She holds her thighs up and apart for him, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so attracted to a human.

"You're leaking so much," she moans as she looks down at them together.

"It's for you- It's all for you," he whines and ruts against her harder. She loves seeing him so whiny and submissive. She moves her panties so that her dick is actually inside of them now, so he doesn't have to hold it down anymore, and it makes them both moan to watch the erotic scene unfold. Her cotton panties are becoming see-through with their combined wetness.

"Love your dick, H," she moans and presses on him through her panties.

"I love your pussy," he moans back. "So fucking creamy and soft," he adds.

"I'm gonna cum," she tells him and grabs him by the back of the neck to kiss him. It's sloppy, and they're basically just trading saliva, but it makes it so much hotter. They're both so far gone.

"Please, Angel. Baby, please cum for me. Let me feel it," he says and moans when he feels her push on his dick harder, the pressure making her orgasm. It's intense and prolonged because Harry never stops moving. He can't help but cum as well when he feels his tip catch her hole. He fights the urge to just stuff her full with his dick, instead cumming against her pussy that's still covered by her, now, ruined panties.

"Wow," she breathes as they both feel the aftershocks. She pulls her panties to the side, and they both moan at the mess they created. He takes his softening dick and spreads his cum all over her. He leans down to smear a wet kiss against her lips, and they both sloppily make-out until Harry's weak arms give out, and he lays on top of her. They fall asleep in each other's embrace.

It's Y/N's second party.

This one is already going much better than the last. Harry hasn't let one second go by that he doesn't have some sort of physical contact with her. It's been two weeks since their moment at her house, and he hasn't let her forget about it.

Right now, Harry and Y/N are standing in the kitchen talking to some of Harry's friends. Well, Harry's talking to them, Y/N's basking in the way he has her back pressed against his chest, and how his hand is casually resting at the bottom of her throat. His casual dominance makes her pussy throb.

"You okay, pet?" his voice in her ear spooks her until she relaxes back into his hold. His friends are occupied with themselves for the moment, so he takes the opportunity to love on her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and discretely squeezing at her throat.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought," she explains.

"It's okay. Just let me know the second you're ready to leave, and we can go," he promises her. She rolls her eyes and turns around in his hold to look at him. His hands gravitate down to hold her ass with a smirk.

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?" she asks.

"Not babysitting. Why would I want to be without you?" he asks like she's acting dumb. She goes to speak, but she's interrupted by his fratty friends.

"Hey, H! Come play beer pong with us!" One of them shouts at him and shoves at his shoulder, making both him and Y/N stumble a bit. He goes to reprimand him, but Y/N stops him.

"He would love to!" she tells them when she turns around.

"Y/N-"

"No, H. Go have some fun. I'll be fine, I swear. I'll go find Niall," she assures him.

"Harry, dude, c'mon. Tell your babe goodbye for like twenty minutes, man," they all laugh at how whipped he is. Harry glares at them. Y/N makes the decision for him.

She kisses his cheek and says, "I'll see you later!" Before she scurries away to find Niall. Harry's grumpy as he goes to play beer pong.

Y/N somehow found Niall easily. All she really had to do was stop for a second and listen for his laugh to follow it. It had been about thirty minutes since she had seen Harry, and she was certainly missing him.

"Can't believe how whipped H is for you," Niall tells her as they walk outside to find the firepit. His arm is slung protectively around her shoulder, and her hand is holding his that's wrapped around her.

"He is not," she counters. "We just like to spend time with each other," she explains, and Niall gives her a knowing look.

"He told me about the other night," he informs her.

"He did not!" she says suddenly and releases herself from his hold.

"He's my best mate, of course he did," he says easily.

"I'll kill him," she says seriously and starts to walk off to find him.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N!" Niall whines and hugs himself over her shoulders as she storms off, trying to find the culprit. "It's not like he told me what all did! Just that you got a bit intimate but didn't go all the way," he explains. She grimaces when she spots where Harry is with his friends playing beer pong. Well, where he's supposed to be playing beer pong. Instead, he's talking with a girl who's a bit too close for Y/N's liking. Y/N also doesn't like how into the conversation Harry looks. He's talking with his hands, and his facial expressions are animated.

"Let's go inside," Y/N says suddenly, and Niall furrows his eyebrows.

"Why-" he begins to ask but then stops himself when he sees the reason she wants to go inside. "C'mon," he tells her and doesn't give her an option to say no before he's wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder and pulling her along.

"No! I don't want to see this!" she complains, but Niall says nothing as they approach the group. Harry's telling the girl something when his eyes land on Y/N. It's like his whole world stopped, and Y/n doesn't have time to process anything before she's being engulfed in a rough embrace and kisses are being pressed all over her face.

"Y/N!" His voice is loud and joyful. "Niall, get off her," Harry scolds, and Niall just laughs.

"Don't be rude, H," Y/N tells him, and Harry pouts. He sinks his head into her shoulder and holds her tightly around her waist.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Niall," he says loud enough for Niall to hear. His words are slurred.

"It's alright, H," Niall just laughs.

"Harry, this is nice, but I can't breathe," Y/N tells him.

"I wish I was small, so I could climb in your lap," Harry says randomly, and Niall's loud laugh is heard for miles. "It's not funny!" Harry complains. "Oh, wait!" Harry abruptly turns around to face the girl he was talking to who's looking at him unamused now. "This is my wife, Y/N. She's who I was telling you about and why I did not want to make-out with you at all!" Harry looks and sounds disgusted at the thought of making out with the girl, and Y/N gasps. Niall's laugh somehow grows louder. "Once you've tasted her fucking mouth- oh, fuck," Harry groans just thinking about Y/N's mouth. "And her pussy- holy shit!"

"Harry!" Y/N scolds. The girl walks off coldly.

"Bye!" Harry tells her, but she doesn't even look back at him. Y/N turns around to find Niall bent over, hugging his stomach in amusement. "What are you laughing at, Niall?" Harry asks him and goes over to hug him.

"Nothing, H," he says once he's put himself together enough. "You drink a little bit, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry says with an evil smirk. "I was so shit at beer pong, so I drank like so much, dude," he tells Niall.

"I think we should get you home, buddy," Niall tells him, and Harry whines. Y/N comes up to Harry's side and wraps her arm around his hip. He seems to remember that Y/N was there and gasps.

"I missed you so much," Harry mumbles into her hair.

"Harry, I would like to go home," she tells him.

"Okay, let's go!" he agrees with ease, and Niall rolls his eyes. Y/N, Harry, and Niall all make their way outside and to Niall's car. Y/N gets into the backseat because she expects Harry to sit in the front, but she's surprised when he climbs in right after her and sits so close he should practically be on her lap.

"Oy, what do I look like? An uber?" Niall says when he realizes he's alone in the front. He starts his car up and starts driving towards Y/N's house.

"Sorry, Niall," Y/N says and grunts when Harry encircles her waist with his big arms and smushes his face into her neck.

"It's alright. I'm just messing with you, babe," he tells her.

"Hey, don't call her that!" Harry grumbles.

"Don't be rude, Harry," Y/N scolds and lightly swats at his head.

"She is my babe, H," Niall tells him, just to mess with drunk Harry some more.

"She's not your anything!" Harry cries.

"Niall, stop messing with him," Y/N now scolds the Irish man, and he just laughs in return. She suddenly feels a hand on her cheek and Harry planting kisses all over her face. He moves his hand down to rest at her neck, so he can angle her face however he wants. "Niall, can you hurry up? I'm being attacked," Y/N says.

"I'm a law-abiding citizen, Y/N," Niall tells her.

"Oh, please. I've seen you speed to go get a donut," she grumbles and grimaces when she feels a tongue lick her cheek. "Ew, Harry!" she pushes at him, but he doesn't move.

"You taste so good," he says before he erupts into a fit of giggles. "Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits," he groans randomly, and Y/N thanks God when they finally pull into her driveway. "Alright, goodbye guys," she sighs before getting out of Niall's car. She raises her eyebrows at Harry when he tries to follow her out. "Um, what are you doing?" she asks him.

"Uh, spending the night with you," he responds like she's acting dumb.

"H, I'm going to take you to your house," Niall tells him.

"What? No!" he cries and hugs Y/N's waist tight when she tries to walk away from where she stands outside the car.

"H-" she begins to say, but she's stopped when she sees Harry's eyes full of tears and his whimpery voice begging.

"Please, I'll be so good for you," he pleads, and she sighs. Niall doesn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. He settles on taking a picture of a sad Harry practically wrapped around Y/N to send to him later. "Please, Angel. I don't want to be away from you," he cries, and how can Y/N argue with his pitiful little state?

"Alright, H. C'mon," she tells him and leads him out of the car.

"Good luck," Niall tells her before she shuts the car door and lets him drive off. Harry suddenly grabs her face and plants a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. She doesn't even have time to react before he's running up to her door.

"We're going to have so much fun!" he yells, and she shushes him, grumbling about her having neighbors. He waits impatiently for her to open the door, and once it's open, he's running inside in search of her dog Pickle. Y/N shakes her head, wondering what she's gotten herself into especially when she sees Harry laying on the floor with Pickle licking at his face. She grimaces, setting her stuff down and taking off her shoes before she makes her way to Harry.

"Let's get up and go to bed," she tells him, but he shakes his head and pouts like a toddler.

"I don't want to go to bed! You're being boring," he spits, but there's no real spite behind it.

"Fine, you can stay out here by yourself then," she says, knowing it will make him get up and follow her. As she's walking off to her bedroom, she hears Harry get up and scurry off in search of her. She quickly shuts herself into her closet to change before he catches up to her. Once she's changed into a large t-shirt and just her panties, she opens her door. She's not prepared to see Harry in just his boxers sitting at the edge of her bed pouting. She pretends to not notice him as she makes her way to her bathroom and does her nightly skincare and brushes her teeth. He follows after her quickly and shadows her routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth while looking at her expectantly the entire time.

Drunk Harry was needy for her.

Once they're both finished, they crawl into her bed. The lamp isn't even off before Harry is laying on top of her, weeping into her neck.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "Don't ignore me!"

"Why should I talk to you? Being so mean to me. Where's my sweet boy?" she asks, willing herself to not put her hands anywhere on him to mess with him more.

"I'm here, I promise," he whines. "You're not boring- not boring at all. You're the best person, and I love you." Y/N feels like the blood from her body was being drained at his drunk confession. "Don't be mad at me. I'm sorry. Am I being annoying? Oh, I am. I'm so sorry," he continues to cry.

"Puppy, I'm not mad at you," she tells him with a giggle. She finally lets her hand card through his hair, her other hand going to rub at his back.

"Okay, good," he says and begins to kiss at her neck again.

"You're incredibly needy," she sighs and leans her head back to give him more access to her skin.

"Yeah? Fuck, I'm so needy for you," he tells her, and her eyes grow wide when she feels him start to subconsciously hump at her leg. She feels his dick start to harden in his boxers.

"Maybe we should stop, H," she warns him.

"Why?" he whines like the thought of stopping brings him physical pain. His hips thrust into her thigh with more determination.

"Because you're drunk," she tells him.

"So? I want you just as bad when I'm not. I'm just better at being chiller about it," his speech slurs. "Can I suck on your tits?" he asks, and she feels one of his hands snake under her shirt to feel the bare skin of her stomach.

"Um," she stutters.

"Please? It'll help me sleep," he claims. "You can even turn off the lamp if you don't want me to see," he tries to convince her even further.

"Okay," she relents. She reaches over to turn off the lamp, so they're welcomed into the darkness. Harry wastes no time before his legs move to straddle her thighs, and he's lifting her shirt to feel at her breasts. They both moan when he glides his fingers over her taut nipples. He squeezes at them in handfuls and moans at the sensation.

"Fuckin' perfect," he sighs. She feels him scoot down so that he's resting his body weight against her now, and his mouth wraps around one of her tits. She gasps at the feeling and tries to work out the horniness she feels because she genuinely does want them to sleep. He spends some time swapping at both her breasts, biting, sucking, and kissing at both of them before he rests his head on her and keeps one of her tits in his mouth to lull him to sleep. The feeling begins to feel relaxing for her, and she feels herself start to drift to sleep as Harry sucks on her breast. She falls asleep with her hand in his hair and her boob in his mouth.

When she wakes in the morning, she's surprised to be in an empty bed. She thought for sure that Harry would still be resting on her chest or in her bathroom heaving over the toilet, but instead she feels no weight on her chest, yet she smells bacon and pancakes through her nose. She does her business in the bathroom and makes her way to the kitchen when she finishes. What she walks into is a sight she would love to wake up to every morning. Harry is in nothing but his boxers as he flips pancakes and sears some bacon on her stove. She says nothing for a long moment, just observes him. She finally decides to make her presence known when he walks over to the sink to wash some of his dishes once he finishes cooking the last pancake and piece of bacon. She feels his body tense then quickly relax when her hands wrap around him from behind and rub at his tummy.

"Good morning," his rough voice greets her, his body tensing with delight when her hands run over his abs and lower belly.

"Morning handsome," she greets him as well and rests her cheek on his back sleepily as her hands continue to wander. "How are you feeling?" Referring to his intense night of drinking.

"Better than I deserve," he laughs in self-deprecation. She laughs as well. "Honestly don't feel bad at all," he tells her and once he finishes the dishes, he turns around in her hold to see her beautiful morning face. He brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I barely drank anything," she shrugs.

"Um, how are your- your uh," he stutters, and she's confused until he looks down at her chest. She laughs lightly.

"Not sure. Haven't seen or felt them yet," she says honestly.

"Can I look?" he asks. She gawks. "I just want to make sure I didn't hurt you!" he explains honestly. She eyes him.

"Okay," she agrees nervously and begins lifting her shirt. She looks away as he looks at her.

"Oh, shit," he gasps.

"Are they ugly?" she whines and goes to bring her shirt back down, but his hand stops her.

"No- they're- they're fucking perfect, but I- I fucked them up a bit," he admits honestly. Her eyebrows furrow before she takes a look for herself. She gasps too when she sees the damage he did. They're littered beautifully with hickeys and a few bite marks. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he tells her, and she looks up to see his eyes watering. She shakes her head as if to tell him not to feel bad.

"Is it messed up that I kind of like it?" she admits.

"You do?" he asks.

"I really do," she says and bites her lip. She finally drops her shirt to cover her abdomen again. She felt awkward just having her tits out in the middle of her kitchen.

"I really like them too," he admits as well and wraps his arms around her waist, bring her closer to him and leaning his face close to hers. He kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she sighs in contentment.

"Do you remember anything from last night? Anything in particular that you might have said?" she asks.

"Are you asking about me telling you I love you?" he asks boldly.

"Possibly," she replies.

"Well, what's to ask about it?" he wonders.

"Well, is it true?" she asks quietly and looks away from his gaze out of nerves. She feels his fingers gently grip her chin to make her look at him before he leans down and presses his lips against hers. She sighs into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck to press him against her harder. Both of his hands cup her throat, and his thumbs rest at her jaw to direct her in any way he likes. He parts once he feels he's running out of breath. He rests his forehead against her own, and she looks up at him with expectant eyes.

"I love everything about you," he admits.

"You also called me your wife," she says with a grin.

"You are my wife- just without all the legal papers and rings and whatnot," he explains, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

"Harry, I want to have sex with you," she admits breathlessly and watches as his eyes grow wide at her statement.

"Are you- Are you sure?" he asks.

"The surest," she tells him honestly.

"You want me to be your first?" he asks and presses a quick, light kiss to her lips.

"And my last," she adds and sees him swoon. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay. Okay- um. Well, let's eat first. We need- It's good to have energy," he stumbles his way through his sentence. She whines in complaint.

"No, we can do that after," she says and goes to pull at his briefs, but he snatches her hands and leans in close to her face. The dominance radiating off him makes her sink into herself.

"I'm not going to fuck you if you don't listen to me," he warns. Her eyes gloss over. "Be sweet for me and go set the food on the table. I'll get our drinks," he instructs, and she scurries off quickly to obey. She's standing awkwardly by her own table when he walks in, and he chuckles lightly. He sets the drinks down and slowly approaches her. He cups her cheeks, and she nuzzles into his touch. "You're not scared of me, right?" he asks, wanting to make sure her behavior isn't out of fear. She shakes her head quickly with furrowed brows.

"No, no," she assures. "Just... want to please you," she explains and turns her head to kiss the inside of his palm. He smiles at that and leans in to slowly kiss her.

"Good," he says against her lips. "Then be good for me and sit on my lap while we eat," he tells her and smiles when she blushes. He sits down first and guides her by her waist to sit down sideways on his lap. She wraps one arm around his shoulders, lightly scratching at his hair as he cuts her up some pancake. He feeds her a few pieces with one hand on keeps the other arm wrapped snug around her waist. He goes to give her another piece, but she shakes her head and takes the fork from his hand to feed him instead. It goes on like that until all of the bacon and pancakes are ate. There's a tension that settles in the room once the plates are cleared.

"Please," she whispers, and that's all Harry needs to hear before he's carrying her off to her bedroom. She giggles when he throws her on her bed and crawls after her, hovering over her excited body. She moans when he rests his body weight on her and kisses her like he's starved. His tongue finds its way into her mouth quickly, and the once innocent kiss becomes messy and sloppy. Harry's pulling away from her panting and with swollen lips. He moans at the sight of her- bare-faced and fucked out just from a little kissing.

"Can I take your shirt off?" he asks roughly.

"You can do anything you want," she answers seriously, making him laugh.

"Don't speak too soon," he tells her before shedding her of her shirt. He moans at her only clad in underwear, her breasts beautiful and littered with his markings. "Oh, baby," he whines and gently tweaks her nipples with his fingers. She gasps and arches her back away from the bed. "Are they sore?" he asks before leaning down to flick his tongue against her nipple.

"A bit, but that feels good," she tells him. She moans when he kisses down her body and to the edge of her underwear. He bites the waistband of her panties and pulls back only to let go of them and let them snap against her skin. She whines at his teasing and buries her hand in his hair to encourage him to do something. He grins at her impatience.

"Bratty little virgin," he remarks, and she tugs at his hair as a warning.

"Big annoying man-whore," she retorts back, and he laughs before lightly slapping her clothed mound. Her body jumps at the sensation, but he's quickly tugging her back into place. He presses his mouth against her clothed pussy and blows hot air against her. She squirms at the new sensation.

"You need to stay still," he tells her and places his hands against her thighs, spreading them in the way he likes. He spends more time licking at where he assumes her clit is by the sounds she makes. He flattens his tongue and licks over her panties, moaning when he begins to taste her wetness. "Can I take these off?" he asks, but his hands are already dipping into the waistband to take them off.

"Please," she tells him and lifts her hips to help him take them off. She feels a bit exposed now that she's naked. She nervously closes her legs, but he quickly snatches them open again.

"Don't do that," he warns her. His jaw drops when he sees her bare pussy, a moan tumbling from his lips. "I missed her," he groans, and she shakes her head in annoyance. "Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you," he tells her, and he's suddenly hovering over her face, her eyes wide. "I'm going to make you cum on my tongue- finger you a bit until you're stretched," he pauses to act like he's going to kiss her, only to pull back at the last second. "Then, I'm going to fuck your sweet little virgin pussy. That sound okay?" he asks, though it's not really a question. Y/N nods her head vigorously and throws her arms around his neck to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, but before she could slip her tongue into his mouth, he pulls away. "We can do more of that later. Let me taste you," he says, and she bites her lip as he pushes down her body.

"Harry, do something please," she whines and grips his hair in her fingers. He pries her thighs apart and begins with a long lick from her hole to her clit. She throws her head back and lets out a long moan, her fingers fisting in his hair hard enough to make him whine, so she immediately let's go and apologizes. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"No, baby," he tells her and places her hands back in his hair. "I like it, I promise, so pull all you want," he assures her and quickly gets back to eating at her. He essentially makes out with her pussy, not caring about how messy or wet anything was getting. He pushes her thighs apart farther and shoves his tongue as deep as he could push into her hole. Her moans and whines could barely be heard over his own. His tongue curls and tries its best to get all of her in his mouth. He's addicted to the way she tastes. He takes his thumbs, using them to spread open her hole wider, so he can really insert his tongue inside her and taste her better.

"Fuck, Harry," she moans. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. It's so much better than anytime she's gotten herself off. Harry himself is pure sex, and it's hard to not let her brain get all muddled around him. "I'm gonna cum," she warns and digs her fingers deeper into his scalp when he switches to flicking at her clit quickly and moving his head side to side. Her orgasm is strong and continuous, taking her a few moments to actually breathe her way to the end. She has to push his head away when the overstimulation begins. He crawls up her body and kisses her cheek.

"I'm gonna have to go down on you again some time tonight," he admits, and she laughs at his eagerness. "Do you feel good? Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yes, and yes," she answers.

"Let me know when you feel ready, and I want you to cum on my fingers at least once before I fuck you," he explains, and she blushes and is a bit taken aback by how he can just talk about this stuff so easily. He sees her blush and smiles. "Don't worry. You'll be as dirty as me soon." His hand moves to her throat, and he teases her lips with his. "Corrupt your innocent little pussy and have you begging for me all the time," he tells her and kisses the corner of her mouth. She shudders.

"You sound very sure of yourself," she tells him.

"And your pussy already loves me. Just let it happen, babe," he sighs, and she giggles.

"M'kay," she agrees in content. "I think I'm ready now." He smiles before he begins to move.

"I'm going to sit behind you, so it will feel a bit safer and more comfortable for you," he explains, and she could almost cry at how thoughtful he is. They maneuver around so that Harry's is against the headboard, and Y/N is leaning back against his chest. He starts by reaching around and grabbing her throat, turning her head so that he can kiss her. They make out for a bit until Harry gets too impatient. "I'm going to start with one finger. Let me know if anything doesn't feel right, okay?" He kisses her cheek for reassurance. "Why don't you rub at your pretty clit while I finger you," he encourages, and she nods. She starts to rub at her clit, and her body sinks further into Harry's. His hand wraps around her, and he brings it to her mouth. "Get it wet, baby," he instructs, and she doesn't waste another second before welcoming his finger into her mouth and getting it wet with her tongue. She sucks on it like it's a dick and swear she feels Harry's dick twitch in his boxers. He takes his finger out of her mouth and rests his chin on her shoulder, embracing her from behind to see what he's doing.

"Feels so nice already," she admits and leans her head back, so they're faces are pressed cheek to cheek. She kisses his cheek right as his finger begins to circle her entrance. She bites her swollen lip and rests her forehead against his temple. He slowly enters the finger, and her hips grind upwards to push it in deeper. "I can take it, H. I promise," she assures him.

"You're tight," he hisses, his own jaw dropping as he feels her warm gummy walls embrace his finger. "And so wet, fuck," he groans, and he can already feel her wetness dripping down his finger.

"Feels really good," she admits, her own fingers still working circles around her clit.

"Can I add a second?" he asks.

"Please," she begs and nods her head in encouragement. She moans when he feels his second finger prod at her hole. She's tight, but there's no resistance as the second finger slides into her.

"You're going to be my perfect cocksleeve," he tells her, his head turning so his mouth is pressed against her cheek, her jaw wide in pleasure. She's almost panting. "Pussy's gonna make me cum so fast and so fucking hard," he admits. "Are you on birth control?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes- yes," she nods her head, throwing it back when his fingers begin to curl inside her.

"Shit- you gonna let me fuck you raw?" he asks and punctuates his words by beginning to thrust his fingers inside her faster. Her pace on her clit quickens to his speed.

"Yes- Oh, fuck- that sounds so good. Wanna- I want to feel your cum in me. Want you to- oh- fill me up," she fights to speak as her orgasm approaches.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, meaning for it to sound condescending, but it comes out whiney. He's on the verge of cumming himself.

"I'm cumming," she warns, but he just keeps his fingers moving inside her. Her orgasm seems stronger but doesn't last as long. The overstimulation comes quicker. "Okay- Okay," she winces and pushes his hand away. He removes himself gently as to not give her any pain. He doesn't waste a second more before he's sucking all her orgasm from his fingers, his eyes rolling into his skull at the taste. Once he cleans himself off, he wraps his arms around her waist to hug her to his chest as she gets her breathing under control.

"You did so fucking well," he praises, and she smiles.

"Thank you," she tells him and kisses his cheek. He looks at her, and when their eyes meet, they both feel the intensity. Their lips meet instantaneously, and she begins to turn around to straddle his lap. One of her hands goes to the back of Harry's head while the other cups his cheek tenderly. His hands settle on her waist, being careful not to make her grind over him in case she's still feeling any overstimulation. When she begins to mess with the waistband of his underwear, he pulls back.

"If you- We don't have to do anything else if you don't-" He's cut off by her hand groping his clothed dick. Harry's back slightly arches off the bed, and he moans quietly at the surprised touch.

"Trust me, I want to," Y/N assures him with a grin. She helps him get his underwear off and then gets back on his lap. They're positioned so that Harry is sitting up at her height as well, making it more intimate than if Harry was just laying down below her.

"It's going to feel deeper this way," he warns.

"Good," she says with a sly smirk, and he shakes his head with a smile.

"You're amazing," he says randomly. She smiles softly before leaning forward to kiss him. It doesn't last long because she's eager to have him inside her.

"I don't- I don't know what I'm doing," she suddenly admits with a laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I'll do all the hard work," he tells her. "Rub at your clit. It will help relax you," he explains, and she listens obediently. She has to raise herself a little so that Harry's dick can be placed at her entrance. "I'm going to push in, but I'll go very slow," he assures her with a serious look. He was so scared to hurt her.

"Thank you, Harry," Y/N smiles and continues to rub her clit when she feels the head of his dick press into her hole. They both gasp at the sensation, and Harry's presses her down until only his tip is inside her.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yes," she moans and fucks herself on the tip, in the process she sinks down about another inch.

"A fuckin' natural," he tells her. He's a little bit over halfway when she presses at his stomach. His eyes dart to hers that are closed shut. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it out?" he asks in a panic. She laughs at his worriness.

"No, puppy," she tells him. "It's just a lot, and I've never felt anything like this before," she explains, and he nods his head in understanding. "Starting to feel really good, though," she admits and scratches at his abs. She sinks herself a little farther down.

Harry's trying to be on his best behavior, but his instincts are telling him to just grab her hips and start fucking up into her. It's the best pussy he's ever been inside of, and he knows she can feel him throbbing inside her. His balls are tight and round, stuffed with cum that belongs shoved inside her tummy. The thought almost sends him over the edge, picturing her belly and tits, that are still littered with his marking, round and swollen with him. His baby in her womb. The thought makes him whine.

"Are you okay?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Feels- feels too good," he whines and has to throw his head back when he feels her seated on his lap, having taken him all the way in. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his orgasm away. He thinks all it would take at the moment is the sight of her innocent little body being corrupted, his fat cock shoved as far as it can be inside her pussy.

"It's deep," she comments, her voice almost as whiney as Harry's. Her eyes narrow at him and his distraught expression. He's still refusing to look at her. "Seriously, are you okay?" her voice suddenly worried.

"Yes. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm trying not to cum yet," he explains. "You feel- really, really lovely. The best pussy I've ever been in," he moans.

"It's okay if you want to cum, Harry. I've already cum so much, and this alone feels really good," she assures him, leaning forward to kiss his lips. He whines into her mouth.

"No, no- I think I'm okay for now," he sighs and finally looks at her. He feels as if he just brought himself back to square one. She looks so perfect sitting on top of his cock it almost makes him cry. She's rubbing at her clit and biting her lip with the cutest smirk on her face. "I won't last long," he admits.

"Me neither," she agrees and begins to move herself on him. Her hips grind against his pelvis, making his dick press into spots she didn't know existed. She stops rubbing her clit and instead presses her hands against his shoulders for extra help.

"Fuck- don't even need my help," he comments. "Already the perfect slut," he says through a moan. Her eyes narrow at him.

"I can f-feel your dick throbbing inside me. Who's the- the real slut?" she stutters, the feeling of him stretching her out making her brain foggy and incoherent. He whines at her assertive tone and feels his balls tighten. He sits up further so that he can hug her waist, pulling them close together. He uses his leverage on her to bounce her on him, and the new feeling makes her third orgasm approach quickly. The intimacy of the moment adds to the intensity of her approaching orgasm. They stare deeply into each other's eyes as they both begin to finish with each other.

It's like nothing Y/N's ever felt before when his balls start to leak his cum inside her. Her own orgasm hits her like a truck when Harry's seed starts to fill her womb. He looks so beautiful fucked out in front of her, his eyes welled with tears of pleasure much like her own.

"I love you," he moans and dips his head into her shoulder.

"I love you too," she moans back, wincing when she begins to feel the overstimulation, though Harry's still finishing inside her. "Damn, you had a lot in there," she laughs, and he blushes into her neck. His hips rut into her on their own accord until he finally begins to calm down.

Harry's face leaves its hiding spot in her shoulder, and he looks up at her like she's everything in the world to him. And she is.

She's his whole world.

+++++++++++++++++

im never fucking looking at this story again. took tooooooo long. hope you enjoy though 🤪

[romanshomeonwattpad]

brother’s best mate | draco malfoy

pairings - draco malfoy/reader’s | brother’s best friend!au |

sypnosis : when your older brother's best friend finds out about your date with Diggory—he decides to give you a piece of his mind.

word count : 3.4k

warnings: smut, established siblings, weed, choking, pet names, minor girl fight, size kink, not proofread so sorry

authors note: the reader is 18 in high school and graduates in less than a few months!! no minors are sexual in this one-shot. draco is 19 and only one year older than the reader. this was fun to write but lowk got lazy at the end. hope you all enjoy its very smutty.

(Follow my Wattpad @romanshome for more Draco content)

© elliotsblunt 2022. do not repost, modify, or translate.

You walked alongside your class mate, Ginny Weasley—a fourth year just like you. A Gryffindor with fiery bright red hair and the personality of a lion, freckled marks littering her nose. She had been your newfound best friend, usually sticking within your own house which had been Slytherin up until recently.

Some drama that had occurred in third year, so you began to seek friendships from other houses as well. You never really cared, but your older brother insisted you hang out with your true kind. Whatever that meant.

Ginny paused as they strolled past the Great Hall. “Say, _ _—Oh!”

You felt someone run into you from behind, a brute force slamming into you full force. Your knees wobbled and collapsed as your palms shielded your face, stinging as they slapped the concrete floor. Blinking with wide eyes, your eyes snapped up to meet a pair of narrowed blue eyes.

“Parkinson,” Ginny called from behind you, storming past you. Your arm shot to reach for her wrist as you held her back. “Chill Gin, it’s cool.”

The dark haired girl smirked, crossing her thin arms over her chest, where her tits practically spilled out. You almost gagged at the sight as Pansy chuckled,

“Sorry, _ _. Didn’t see ya.”

“Bullshit!”

“She’s not even worth it. Come on,” You rolled your eyes, thankful Ginny had your back in the back of your mind. Pansy’s smirk faded as you spun around, reaching out and shoving you from behind. You fell forward once again, Ginny calling out your name as she kneeled beside you. Both of you send the laughing girl a glare.

“What is your problem?” You hissed, standing up on your feet. “I haven’t���“

“He broke up with me. Neville broke up with me—for you. You fucking cunt. And now, I’m going to beat you and that Gryffindor’s ass.”

Your brows knit together. Neville? But you hadn’t spoken to him in months, ever since last year. When he had broken up with you for Pansy Parkinson.

A smirk crept onto your lips, still on the ground. Her cheeks reddened at your next words, “Huh. Isn’t that ironic.”

“You bitch,” she gritted her teeth before slapping you across the face. Your eyes widened as you smiled in shock, not believing that this whore was fighting you over a man. When you had found out that Neville, who you dated for a solid two months, decided to cheat on you with Pansy Parkinson. The new, shiny exchange student from Beauxbaton Academy. She spoke French and was the only girl to show off cleavage.

She had been the talk of most of the boys in each house for months.

Apparently, the French liked to get down and under. Real quick. Half the boys went through her by the time summer rolled around. You remember your older brother mentioning her, saying if his best friend hadn’t fucked her before he graduated then he most definitely would have “tapped”. All he had earned from you was an eye roll.

“You crazy slag!” Ginny shouted, but before she could step in—a deep voice interrupted.

As you stood from the ground, picking up your book that you had dropped, you froze before quickly facing the voice. A warmness flourished in your chest as a familiar smirk was given to Pansy, by a blonde Slytherin that had graduated last year. Your brother, Alex , stood beside him, “Parkinson. Please don’t tell me your shoving my baby sis because of one of your personal wankers.“

Draco chuckled to himself, his head shaking before shoving his hands into his pockets. His hair had been combed to the side, a single strand falling over those piercing eyes of his. A black long sleeve tightened around his muscular back, a pair of black slacks to matched. You could almost smell his cologne from here.

“Can it, Waters,” she snapped at your brother, shifting her scowl into a smile when your sights landed on Draco.

“Draco—I didn’t know you were back. I would have looked for you.”

“Exactly why I didn’t,” he replied quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat.

Parkinson blushed a deep red, looking away from Draco. Ginny threw her a brow. “Didn’t you and Longbottom just break up?”

“Longbottom, Pans? The kid looks like a human piranha—bless his soul,” Alex chuckled, but you shook your head.

“No, he looks better. He got surgery.”

“No wa—!”

“Both of you shut up!” Pansy spat at both your brother and you, causing you all to just look at her with expecting looks. After her eyes swept back and forth across all of yours, she groaned before spinning around and stomping away. Alex tilted his head at her, “What’s with her?”

“Neville broke up with her for _ _,” Ginny replied, an knowing smile on her face as she nudged you. “But she happens to fancy someone else.”

“I would be mad to if a bloke that looked like that broke up—“

“Who?”

Your eyes found Draco’s. He was looking at you, with something new flickering in his eyes. His jaw was clenched as a soft smile played on his lips for you. Ginny nor Alex responded, waiting for you to respond.

“Urm, just some kid I met at a party.”

You were talking about Cedric Diggory. He was the golden boy of Hufflepuff, with those dreamy eyes and charming smile. Your heart soared whenever he passed you in the halls, sending you his specialty wink. You had to bite your lip to hold back a smile for the rest of the day, almost drawing blood. And last night, you had both texted non-stop.

Tonight you were supposed to meet him in Hogsmeade. Spring Break was coming up, which is why your brother had came in the first place. You always spent Spring Break with your brother—and Draco just always happened to be with him. They were inseparable. Ever since first year.

“You go out with him yet?” Draco asked another question, narrowing his eyes. His head tilted as he studied you.

“No.”

“But she’s meant to tonight,” Ginny added, throwing an arm around you. You threw her a stare but she wasn’t paying attention to you, sending heart eyes to Draco. She always a massive crush on him, and you were sure he knew. Especially when he sent her a boyish smile right now. “Thank you, Weasel. Though, you don’t look much like a weasel anymore.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear as Alex rolled his eyes. “Gross, bro. Don’t flirt with my baby sis’s friends, ight?”

Draco chuckled as you groaned, “Ginnyishelpingmepackokbye,” you rushed out before grabbing your giggling friend.

You stood outside your favorite restaurant in Hogsmeade—The Flying Dutchman. They had the best burgers in town, and you’re the one who actually proposed to come here when Cedric asked you out. Your brother, Draco, and you always came here for dinner when you rented out your hotel room. Like every Spring break. A faint smile wore on your lips at the memory as the spring breeze pressed warm kisses onto your flesh.

But as more time passed by, that smile began to fade. Cedric had been more than thirty minutes late.

Ginny texted her that about after an hour, you should call it quits. And so you kept checking your phone, tapping your glossy heel against the concrete of the sidewalk. Your heart banged on your rib cage as blood rushed to your ears. Everything was slightly muffled as embarrassment overcame you.

And when it hit nine o’clock, you began to walk to your hotel.

Anger coursed through your veins. How dare he asked you out then ghost you completely?

You pulled out your phone and sent him a few messages cursing him out before shoving it back into your purse. With glossy eyes, after about ten minutes, you had reached the hotel room you were to be having alone. Your brother and Draco would be sharing the next one over. Approaching the entrance, where green glass pillars cascaded over a tall, lavish building—you hummed as the cool air conditioning welcomed you.

“Welcome,” a faux customer service voice rung in your ear. Your eyes landed on the front desk attendant, a young man. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes. Under Waters.“

“The single queen bed with a walk in-closet?”

You blushed, “Yes.”

“Perfect. Will that be cash or credit.”

“It’s on file. I come like, every year,” you explained, and he nodded firmly before clicking his mouse a few times. He was short and chubby—hair receding slowly from the sides. You didn’t know that was possible. “Have you found it?”

“Yes. It went through and….perfect. You’re all set,” he bent over, opening a drawer and a pair of keys jingled in your ears. He pooped back up whilst kicking the drawer back closed—handing you your card and the wifi password. “This here is your room card for room number 67 as well as our wifi and password.”

“Thanks,” you sent him a smile before making your way inside. As always, the halls were the same. A green carpet with beige walls, random paintings everywhere. It smelled of old paper inside your room, a bed with red covers and white pillows rested on the large bed. A walk-in closet, as promised, was lodged in the corner next to the bathroom.

You decided to shower, still in a sour mood about being stood up. Taking off your makeup with a cleanser, you stripped off your clothes and hopped into the shower. Craving to feel the warm water soothe your tense muscles, you moaned as it happened moments later. Digging your vanilla shampoo into your roots, you used your net to scrub off the dirt and dead skin from your body.

After finding everything off, you wrapped a towel around your figure and opened the door to your bathroom. A scream tore from your throat at the sight of someone sitting on the corner of your bed.

“_ _. I’m high as fuck,” Draco ran a hand through his hair, a red hue glowing from his eyes. His eyelids hung low as he smiled lazily—flickering his gaze over to you. “Alex is passed out. He took too many edibles.”

You scoffed, “And I assume you were the more responsible one and maintained a decent amount of sobriety?”

“Big words, _ _. Big words for a little girl,” Draco taunted, your eyes rounding at his words. He had never seemed this laid back with you, always being the more poised and dignified out of him and your brother. Hair always slicked to the side, clothes looking tidy and clean cut. But his hair had been messy due to him running his fingers through the strands, and his black button up he had changed into had been unbuttoned halfway.

His gold chain glistened against his pale skin, your thighs clenching at the thought of it hanging in your face while he—

“How was the date?” He questioned, his eyes darkening. You gulped.

“He didn’t show.”

“What?” He rose his voice, standing up from his seat. You flinched at the intensity of his tone as his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Dammit, _ _,” he balled his fist, storming over to you. Your back hit the wall, clutching your towel to your body, as his palmed slammed against the wall and staid there. His scent of peppermint and marijuana, which led you to believe he had smoked instead of taking the edibles with your brother. His eyes swirled with a hidden emotion as breath fanned your lips. “Why can’t you just answer a simple question?” He scoffed,

“You never do what you’re told.”

“And you’re too high,” you mumbled, placing your hands on his chest to push him back. But he caught them, “Draco.”

“_ _,” He whispered, “I can’t watch you get heartbroken over these little fucking boys anymore.”

Your throat went dry. Had Draco liked you?

That didn’t make any sense. He had been the most popular boy at school. Him and your brothers were the two most crushed on guys at school, Draco running through a number of girls throughout his years. He always paid attention to you, never leaving you out. “What? You think it’s a coincidence that every dude you have a date with bails on you?”

Your eyes widen, “You’re the reason Cedric—?”

“Back when I was in Hogwarts,” he continued, his boyish smirk returning to his lips. “Looks like you don’t need my help in that department after all.”

He had been your brother’s best friend, and if you didn’t know any better, his high self just confessed to scaring off other guys to date you. Out of all the girls he could have had, tonight, it appeared he wanted you. And one thing about Draco Malfoy—

He always gets what he wants.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as his piercing eyes bored into yours. His thumb reached out, shocking you, as it took place of your teeth. An animalistic look flashed in his eyes, “Relax, kid. It was a joke.”

“Don’t call me kid.”

Draco released a chuckle, taking a step back before shaking his head. He ran a large hand the lift his pale hair again, “Fuck. You’re Alex’s little sis,” he sighed, letting out sarcastic chuckles. “I’m turned on by my best friends sister.”

His words caught you by surprise. Your lips fell open in shock, eyes bulged and skin flushed. He tugged at his strands once more before muttering fuck it, turning around and walking straight towards you. You flinched say Draco grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest before slamming his lips against yours.

They were smooth and plump, sucking on your own as his hand flew to your cheek. At first you hadn’t kissed back, in shock, but when his thumb began to rub the flesh of your face—you melted. Your lips fought against his as you completely surrendered to him.

His fingers found your hair, lightly tugging on the strands. A soft moan left your lips, causing him to hum, “You like when I pull your hair, little one?”

The nickname caused a shiver to run down your spine. A pool of wetness shot down your core, a pleasurable sensation overcoming you as he continued to kiss you. His scent overcame you as he spun the two of you around, laying you on the bed before crawling above you. His lips didn’t part from yours.

Pulling away, you panted as he observed you from above. Your hair had probably been a mess and completely damp. The towel wrapped around you had been the only thing separating you from the Slytherin above. His eyes were clouded with the drug, “You’re fuckin’ breathtakin.”

You blushed. You didn’t think you would ever hear him say that. Considering how much of a fan girl you used to be for him back in primary.

He dived down to close the gap between you two. “I wanna fuck you. Show you how it feels to cum around a grown dick like mine,” Draco breathlessly panted against her lips. His fingers dove to her towel, tossing to to the floor before looking down. His hair tickled her nose,

“Looks like every inch of you is perfect, _ _. Can’t wait to have you fall apart on my tongue.”

“Next time. I—want it now,” you breathed, craving to get fucked by Draco. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he grabbed one of your tits, popping it into his mouth before swirling his tongue around the bud. His eyes crossed at the taste, “Fuck, that feels so good.”

“YehBaby?” His voice was muddled by your mounds. You giggled as he founded the other one before doing the same. Your hips began to arch and he smirked,

“My horny little one,” he teased, sitting up straight. You chewed on your lower lip, clenching your thighs as his eyes staid on yours. Unzipping his slacks, he tossed them to the side along with his trousers before hooking his arms around your thighs. You shrieked as he yanked you to the edge, grabbing his cock, “You sure you can take it? A big dick like mine?”

You grabbed his bicep, which bulged under your hand. His arm had been twice the size of yours. Rubbing his swollen pink head against your clit, peering down at you. Your eyes widened up at him, all innocent like, pinching your nipples. His lips reached to kiss your feet before resting them both on his shoulders, “You sure about this, _ _? Because once I start, I can’t stop.”

“Please,” you pleaded, reaching for him. He chuckled before bending down, letting you wrap your arms around his neck. His thick cock began to slid into you, making you squeak his name, “Draco! Oh my—urgh.”

His red rimmed eyes looked down at you. As he inched deeper, the more your mouth dropped. He pecked your lips before moving more fluidly, more and more spikes of pleasure adding to your tummy. You weren’t a virgin—every guy you’ve been with always made you do all the work. So the fact that Draco had expertly began stroking his hard cock into your gushing pussy, you noticed more moans escaping you.

The blonde grunted, working half his cock inside. And then he pushed it all the way in, making both of you cry out in unison.

And then he chuckled darkly at your blissed out expression, a wicked smile curling onto his lips as he angled himself. His hips rammed into yours, holding your knees against him, as your tits jiggled before his eyes.

Cries and pleads babbled from your mouth.

“Yes! Please!”

“Draco—it feels too good.”

“My Merlin—I can’t—“

“Yeah?” He cooed, brutally snapping his hips against you. His thick head pushed into your walls, his abdomen rubbing against your puffy nub. With a tender voice, his hand flew to your throat, as he continued, “Just like that, little one? Move my hips like this?”

He gave her two harsh strokes, giving her a bruising kiss. Draco’s hair fell over his eyes as sweat glistened over his abs. Ring clad fingers snaked to your pussy, his thumb pressing circles into your clit. It began to pulse, meaning you were going to cum, making Draco raise his brows.

“It’s so warm, _ _. You gonna come on this dick?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, “Yes yes yes YES YES—“

Draco chuckled, kissing your lips to silence you. You came on his dick, being completely lost in the trance of your orgasm. It felt like a million glasses had broken in your ear, earth shattering before you as euphoria paused time. Never in your life had you came that hard.

And then he pulled out, sitting against the headrest on the bed. You sent him a look, still calming down from your high, as he tapped his thigh, “Come take a ride on this dick for me, baby.”

Without time to waste, you crawled over. He smiled at you evily as he guided you, “Sit with your back-good girl,” he instructed, making you face your back to his chest. He lifted your feet and stood them on his thighs, “I’m going to play with your pussy. Throw your arm around my neck and take this dick, that’s all you have to do. Okay little one? Can you handle that?”

To answer his question, you instantly grabbed his cock before sliding down. You cried out, “Ah!”

“That’s it. Juuuuuuust like that,” he shushed, rubbing three fingers on your swollen pussy. You jerked in his hold as he nipped at your ear, “I got you, baby. I got you.”

And with that he began rapidly thrusting up into your clenching pussy. You screamed out as his fingers fastened their pace, your back arching against his chest. Your arm shook as it clung to his neck, his lips attached to your nipple. The crude licking sounds edged you closer to your high.

His hand covered your entire stomach, “So tiny, baby. You like when I fuck this little pussy?”

Your tummy began to contract. Draco licked his fingers, tasting your juices, before rubbing them against your creaming pussy once again. Your brows rose in pleasure as a scream came from you, “I’m gonna—ah—“

“Come on,” he urged, “Come on come on come on—there it is! Just like that, _ _. Allll over my fucking dick.”

Your body twitched as you came on top of Draco. And when he felt your tight pussy gush around him, he grabbed you by your waist, prolonging your orgasm by animalistically rutting up into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna, fuck fuck fuck—“

“What the fuck?” Alex’s voice screamed in the air.

[ceesimz]

Misunderstood

Arguments aren't your strongsuit, especially with the person you love most. (Autistic reader)

Other parts of Reverie can be found here! Hope you enjoy :)

If anyone asked you, you would say your relationship was perfect. It was everything you hoped and dreamed for, and more. 

Yet, nothing is completely perfect, no matter how much you try or long for it to be. Even the healthiest, happiest relationships had their moments. That was the reality, but that didn’t stop you from panicking at the first sign of conflict.

An argument was always inevitable, especially in a fairly new relationship, which you knew of course, you just never thought it would happen in the way it did. Not only was conflict possibly the thing you hated most in the world, but it was the cause of the argument that really hurt.

Sometimes, it was hard for you to read people. Other times, you could read them so well, it weirded them out. In your books, the only people that could truly hide how they felt, were autistic people. Masking was natural instinct and when you're unknowingly forced by society and its allistic habits of finding anything other than ‘normal’ weird to hide every aspect of what makes you human, you learn from others’ body language and actions and facial expressions about how to fit in. The knock-on effect of that is you also learn how to spot the signs in other people when they’re trying to disguise their feelings, autistic or not. 

That’s why Alexia loved the fact she didn’t have to say much for you to realise when she was in a depleted mood… most of the time.

“Cariño?” Alexia sighed as she stepped into her apartment, knowing you were somewhere around. 

Whilst you had a day off, Alexia had been going from place to place, feeling as if she had seen more of Barcelona in one day than a tourist in a week. It had been one of those days where it seemed like everyone needed something from her, and for whatever reason, she couldn’t say no. She didn’t realise that everything she had agreed to in the last month or two had been scheduled all in a single day, meaning she didn’t get home until 8pm, a whole thirteen hours after she first left that morning. 

The last thing she wanted to do that day, and everyday, was to upset you.

“Where are you.” She mumbled, dumping her bag beside the shoe rack that she left her trainers beside, too exhausted to even think about the mess she was leaving behind. The mess around her apartment was another story. 

The kitchen looked as if an explosion had occurred, tupperware and plates and cutlery all over the counters, the only saving grace for the frustration that slowly built being the trays of freshly baked goods of whatever variety neatly organised and filling her home with a sweet scent. Her lounge was thankfully less chaotic, bar the blanket left strewn on the sofa and a couple pillows haphazardly placed around, though it was empty without you.

When she stepped into her bedroom for the first time that night, there was a smile on her face. 

You were in her room, headphones on and in your own world, humming quietly whilst you folded up then put away a mix of your clothes and Alexia’s. Over time, since that date back in December at the walled garden with the pansies and the kiss and the admissions, the two of you hardly ever spent time apart. The only time you did was when Alexia went away for Spain camp or one of you was so busy you didn’t want to disrupt the other. Otherwise, every night at least was with each other. Why wouldn’t you? Spending the day with separate friends or like Alexia’s case that day, at work, just to come home to each other was something you both adored.

That meant that some of your belongings had gradually made their way over to Alexia’s apartment, and vice versa. To walk in on you doing something so simple like joint laundry, it caused a barrage of sentimental feelings to rise inside of her. It was like a glance into her future. 

Though, with your headphones on and no doubt blasting your music so loud Alexia should be concerned about your hearing, she didn’t want to scare you. So she simply stood in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame with her arms crossed, a soft and adoring look on her face as she did so. A minute or two passed by until you turned to notice her, flinching a little before you smiled beamingly at her.

“Hola, guapa.” You grinned, dropping your headphones and the sweater you were folding onto the bed, and bounding over to Alexia.

“Hola, guapa.” Alexia repeated in a quieter voice, distinctly lacking the same excitement as your tone did. Her arms wrapped around your waist as yours linked around her shoulders, completely missing all the tension that she held there. “How was your day?”

“It was so good, I loved it. But all day I was thinking about you and coming home to you. It’s quite late for a work day, are you okay?” You inquired, feeling her nod into your shoulder where she rested her forehead. 

Any other time, that reply wouldn’t have been enough for you, you would have questioned her further. 

You don’t know how or why, but you didn’t recognise her subdued behaviour at that moment. It didn’t exactly make sense to you, nor could you ever in your life find the words to explain why, this was just something that happened sometimes. Maybe it had something to do with you feeling so happy that you wanted to spread that and share it with others. It was a very admirable habit with nothing but the best intentions, it just… didn’t come off that way sometimes.

Your joy was so all-consuming, it was hard to focus on anything else. The world was brighter, you felt lighter, and almost nothing could bring you down. Everything else was just background noise, you’d unknowingly honed in on the complete elation you felt that it kind of made you oblivious to the things around you. Or, more specifically, the people around you, and their true feelings. 

You weren’t aware at the time that it was happening. If you did know what was going on, you’d stop in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, that’s not something that can be done.

“Thank you for doing laundry while I was gone.” Alexia said, leaning back a little to smile tiredly down at you.

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t want me stealing more of your clothes so it was kind of a necessity.” You failed to notice the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes like it always did. “I baked earlier, did you see? Ingrid gave me some recipes that I tried, they came out really good. You should try some after dinner.” 

“I will.” She agreed with a lazy hum, having to hide her frown when you pulled out of her arms and away from her. 

“I left the kitchen a bit… messy. Sorry. I’ll clean it, I swear, but maybe it’s best if we order in tonight?” You grimaced, walking backwards out of the bedroom towards the aforementioned room as Alexia nodded at your suggestion. “Great! You order, you know what I like, I’ll get started with cleaning.”

You turned around the corner and out of Alexia’s sight. She sighed, again, and her hands fell to her hips as she did so. It wasn’t that she was annoyed at you, she just couldn’t find the words to properly express how she felt. 

Up to this point of your relationship, she had never had a day like this, where she was so completely and thoroughly exhausted. Not just that, but also feeling like if she didn’t get into bed sooner rather than later, she might just… cry. She wanted to cry. But she didn’t exactly know why, maybe from being so tired and overwhelmed, she didn’t know. The only things she did know were that she didn’t want to entertain that side of her because she wanted so desperately to enjoy the evening with you. After all, she didn’t have to cook or clean or do any other chores, you’d taken care of all the stresses she had worried about as she gradually felt her energy slip away from her throughout the day. Yet, she couldn’t quite break down the few remaining walls of insecurity that came with any relationship, where she was afraid of showing the weaker, more vulnerable version of herself.

She didn’t want to restrict your relationship with the confines of stereotypes, but she thought of herself as someone as strong and good in a crisis. She was always there when you needed her, there was just some part of her that couldn’t find peace with the idea of reversing those roles. You would be mad if you found out about those thoughts of hers, Alexia knew that, though the thought of opening up about it and starting that conversation was not something she planned to do anytime soon. They were her problems and her problems only, they didn’t need to be yours too.

So she took a deep breath, or four, and left her bedroom to follow after you, opening up the takeout delivery app on her phone. 

However, when she stepped into her bedroom for the second time that night, she made one of the biggest mistakes she knew she could make.

For about twenty minutes beforehand, she couldn’t get a word in with you. You followed her throughout the apartment, from the kitchen when you were done to the lounge, to the balcony, to the small space she had made into her office and back to the bedroom, rambling about anything on your mind, something Alexia normally adored. Though on this occasion, the only thing she wished for was your company and some silence. She had one of those things, but not the other. She didn’t have it in her heart to put a stop to it, she knew what that would do to you and how it’d make you feel.

Instead, she indirectly hurt you anyway, in a much worse way.

You trailed after her, mindlessly, unaware of the internal struggles locked up inside the woman in front of you as she padded into her bedroom with her head down and tears burning her eyes. It wasn’t until you heard a sniffle from her, still looking at her back profile, that you decided to ask if she was okay. She paused in the doorway, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve she bunched around her hand, before sighing and placing her hands on her hips. As she shook her head slightly, you went to talk again, now definitely concerned, but she beat you to it.

“I need a break.” 

There was a tremble to her quiet voice which you heard, but all you could concentrate on was the pain you felt as a result. Those four short words cut through your joy like a knife, tainted and tarnished by memory after memory of having been told the same thing before by people you adored, you trusted. 

Maybe if you thought rationally, you would have understood the true meaning of her words. But all you could focus on was that the one phrase you hoped to never hear fall from her lips had come. There was no rational thinking to be done here. Your biggest insecurity had just had a spotlight shined on it, you at centre stage with a theatre of people laughing at the scene they had witnessed, their hysteria a cruel reminder of ‘I told you so’ in much the same way the devil on your shoulder so often liked to remind you of.

You thought you were making her feel better, she always liked to tell you that your happiness was her favourite thing about you. So what was different about this time? You didn’t understand. The only thing you could think of was the one thing that was your worst nightmare.

You were too much for her. Something you’d been told before many times. Alexia was the last person you thought would think that about you. And that’s why it hurt more than any other occasion before. 

Your body reacted as if you were in shock; your hands went numb, pins and needles shooting up your arms, and a high-pitched ringing gradually made its way into your ears and drowned out every other sound around you. Alexia’s statement might have been nothing, but not to you. What she said hit you like a bullet or ten, because this always happened. You got to know someone, trusted them, opened up to them, loved them, only for you to get too comfortable being yourself in their presence and either annoying them or scaring them to death. 

Every time you open up your heart in such a way, you always lose a piece of yourself that may never return to make you whole again in the same way as before. Alexia took your heart and your soul this time. It’s strange, that with just a few words, the people who make you feel most alive can also make you feel more invisible than you ever thought possible.

Perhaps this could be worked out, one day. You would never forget it though, and you weren’t sure you could ever look at Alexia the same again.

In the midst of your anxious spiralling, the woman you thought the world of had made her way into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door behind her. It gave you the perfect time to do the one single thing your clouded mind could think of.

Leaving.

—

The space beside her in bed was empty when Alexia woke up. A silence had settled throughout the apartment, which was relaxing at first, before her tired haze wore off and she slowly began to come back to her senses. Apparently she had accidentally fallen asleep, fully dressed and on top of the covers, after she left the ensuite. Immediately, that silence was something that swiftly began to fill her with dread. 

Alexia never napped. But when she did, you were always right beside her. It didn’t help her anxieties that there were no signs of life coming from any other rooms of her home. Her bedroom door was open, yet there were no sounds from the TV in the lounge, no commotion from you and your grievances with cooking that never failed to make her smile, the spare bedroom was pitch black in contrast to the way it lit up with whatever video game you often chose to play. 

One thing the pair of you had discovered was how much joy and contentment you got from merely existing in the same space. As Alexia sat on the sofa reading a book or watching something on the TV, you weren’t far away, only on the other side of the couch also reading or listening to music with headphones on. If you were using the gaming console Alexia had spontaneously decided to buy you for the spare bedroom, just so you had a space to hide away in her apartment, the blonde was often lay on the bed there, iPad in hand and going through her emails or watching match tapes or chatting with her family, more than satisfied by being in the same room as you. 

In this case, it should have been the same. You should have been there beside her as she slept, it was routine to be attached at the hip, manoeuvring through the apartment together like there was rope around your waists. 

Except this time, you weren’t.

She went from room to room, opening any and all doors even if they did lead to storage cupboards, only to realise you had left. 

There were no messages from you on her phone and as she sent one of her own to you, it didn’t even get delivered. Wherever you were, your phone was completely off, a fact that increased her concern tenfold. 

Two places came to mind. And if you weren’t at either of those, well… she was well and truly screwed. Her nervous system too, that’d be so completely shot that she didn’t think her heart could ever return to a healthy BPM rate. 

It took her hardly any time at all to drive over to the first destination she thought of. Her hands shook as she drove, whether that be from the white-knuckled grip she had on the wheel or the nerves coursing through her, and they trembled even as she jogged up the steps of your apartment block to your flat, her spare key already clutched tight in her fist. Of course, she was never one to disrupt your privacy, so she waited a good five minutes at your door after knocking and talking through it before she let herself in.

Just as she feared, you weren’t there. Your whole apartment was untouched, left entirely as it had been when the pair of you left the previous morning. The only difference was the fact that the light of the night’s full moon was streaming through the gap in the curtains, the sun having set as she unknowingly slept earlier. The darkness that cascaded the place you called home wasn’t too dissimilar to what Alexia’s life was like without you. She would do anything to not have to experience it permanently. She wasn’t sure she could ever live the same way she did before you; meeting you had changed everything, and life would forever feel like a shadow of the warmth she had with you.

And once she had made it up to Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment, she got a glimpse of that prospect. It was a monumental mistake to assume you’d be there.

“Alexia? What are you doing here?” Ingrid answered the door in utter confusion, her voice a small whisper as she stepped out into the corridor and closed the door slightly behind her.

“She’s here, no? Can you tell her to come home?” Alexia asked somewhat desperately, exasperation clear in her tone.

“What? Who are you ta- oh. No, she’s not here, it’s just María and I. Why?” Ingrid continued to look perplexed at the strange appearance of her captain, until she looked into the midfielder’s eyes and saw they were wide and full of regret, concern, guilt, all things that made her odd presence click in her mind. “Alexia. What did you do?”

Alexia snapped out of her frozen state as the gravity of her realisation hit her; she had made you think that she was tired of you. That you were the thing she needed a break from. As if that could ever be true. 

It didn’t matter though, what Alexia thought and what had happened earlier. The most important thing now was how she acted, how she repaired the situation.

“I messed up. She was talking and happy, and I had just got home from working all day. I was so tired, I wasn’t thinking straight! I said something that was not directed at her, never at her, but I think… I think she thought it was. It wasn’t, I prom-”

“What did you say?” Ingrid demanded through gritted teeth.

“I… I said I needed a break.” Alexia let out a shaky breath once she’d spoken, slumping back against the wall behind her and doubling over slightly so that her hands were on her knees. Ingrid stared at her, either in rage or disappointment or what, the blonde wasn’t sure, but she didn’t say a thing whilst Alexia sniffled and wiped away a tear that fell without even realising she had begun crying. “Oh, fuck. I messed up so bad.”

“Yes, you did, because that’s her worst nightmare! To hear someone say they need a break, especially in that scenario, is her number one insecurity. How could you s-”

“You think I don’t know that!?” Alexia stood up straight and snapped, though the fight immediately drained out of her. She slid down the wall until she was on the ground, knees to her chest with her arms atop them as she cried into her hands. Ingrid softened, just slightly, and came to sit beside her. “What do I do, Ingrid? She’s not here, not at her apartment, not at mine. Her phone isn’t on. I have no idea where she is or what I would say to her.”

“I’m on her side, not yours. This is your problem and you have to figure out how to fix it.” She started with the classic friendly warning, before moving on to what she actually wanted to say. “I think this is something you will both forget by tomorrow, as long as you say exactly the right words. What those are, well… that's what you need to decide on. You have to figure out what you want to say to her to make her believe you because it's not going to be easy. You can't just tell her you didn't mean it, explain yourself clearly. But you have to work that out on your own. I can't help you with that.”

The blonde nodded and took a deep breath.

“I know. Madre de dios, I know.” She mumbled, running her hands through her hair and leaning her head back against the wall. “You are angry at me, and I know that. Ingrid, you have to know I didn’t mean it in that way. I never need a break from her, she is the love of my life. It’s not an excuse but I had a really long day at work, that’s what I said I needed a break from. I know I did not make that clear, and… now look what I have done.” 

Ingrid pursed her lips and reassuringly squeezed Alexia’s forearm. Sometimes she got too defensive over you, like now with Alexia. Maybe that would never change, it wasn’t the easiest habit to shake off. However, she was getting slightly better at letting go of the need to do and fix everything bad that happened to you. With the introduction of Alexia into your life, she had no choice but to do that. It was hard, of course it was, yet she was trying her best and that seemed to be working. Even now, as she itched to grab her car keys and drive through all of Barcelona just to find you. That wasn't up to her anymore though. Only if it was really necessary for her to step in.

Both her defensive nature and her new attitude of letting go, they came from a place of love, from having been there every time someone said almost the identical thing that Alexia had said. To most, that phrase wouldn’t really bother many people. They would either know that the other person meant it in terms of work, or their life in general. Except you weren’t most people. Given your reaction to the situation at hand, all the evidence was there that this wasn’t a small thing to you. It quite literally felt like the end of the world, there was no other way to describe it.

All Ingrid could do was hope that her friend was wise enough to be able to get the two of you out of this misunderstanding unharmed. 

“Tell her that then. And more, obviously.” Ingrid teased lightly, pulling a small smile from Alexia. “Just speak from your heart, if you tell the truth then she will of course believe you. But I will seriously hurt you if you upset her again.”

“Lo sè.” Alexia replied, a hint of… fear in her voice? Ingrid really had to suppress her smirk then.

“Now go. Go find her. You know the places she could be, just think. If you can’t find her and get really worried, then call some of us and we’ll come help.” 

And with that, Alexia left. 

—

You didn’t hear the first call of your name. Nor did you hear the second, or the third, or the fourth. It wasn’t until someone sat beside you that you came back down to earth.

“Lieverd, what are you doing here? Are you okay?” Esmee was the one next to you on the bench you found yourself on.

A crooked, old, wooden bench with its paint chipping off under your hands that fidgeted anxiously, in the middle of… the very place you first kissed the woman that had now done you wrong. You weren’t sure how you got here, when you had arrived, and why this was the place you decided to flee to. Yet, here you were.

“Daniëlle, can you go on my phone and text Alexia? And maybe Ingrid? Please?” 

The younger woman’s girlfriend nodded immediately and pulled out said phone, stepping away to give you two privacy as she did so. Esmee turned back to you and stifled a sigh. She ran through everything in her mind of what she had seen Alexia and Ingrid do to help, and from what you had told her in the past. 

One of the first things that came to mind is that time you said on some occasions, especially when you're quite overwhelmed, you can go non-verbal. Your body and mind shuts down, internally honing in on all that was stressing you out whilst everything externally ceases to register for you. It seemed that was what was happening now.

From what she had seen so far, you were staring straight ahead, eyes locked across the yard on a bed of flowers that had sprung to life even more than when you had been there all those months ago in the winter. Esmee didn't want to cross any boundaries or make you feel worse by reaching out to comfort you through a hug or just a hand on your arm, so she didn't. 

“I text them both, Alexia is on her way. She'll be here soon.” Daniëlle said, handing the phone back to the other Dutch girl and watching from afar. 

If Esmee needed her, she'd be more than happy to step in. However, she didn't want to intrude, and she didn't really know much about you or what to do in this situation. And if you were in an able mindset, you would tell her that you appreciated that more than you would ever be able to express. 

“Good, thank you.” Esmee flashed a quick smile at her before focusing her attention back to you. 

Still, you were unresponsive. Conscious of course, but totally unresponsive, your eyes glued to the scenery across from you.

The whole area was astoundingly gorgeous; all bright colours with the fullest trees, somehow drowning out the noise of the busy city around, providing a safe haven that had the complete opposite effect for you. Despite the good memories tied to it, the only thing on your mind was how you had lost everything in just one conversation. All the memories were tinged with a sickening amount of heartbreak.

Those white pansies you were looking at were beautiful, more so than back in December, which made it so much worse. They'd grown and flourished in tandem with your relationship, except now the latter was dead and buried whilst they flaunted their life in front of you. Thriving and beautiful, just like you and Alexia had once been. Now what were you? A thing of the past? What were you supposed to do now? You didn't come to Barcelona to play on a team with your ex-girlfriend, so maybe you should put in a request for a tr-

“Hey, come back to me. I'm right here, it's just me, Esmee.” Slowly but surely, the gentle coaxing of Esmee’s words pulled you out of the prison your own brain had made for you. “You're listening to me, right? You can hear me?”

You nodded, a little cautiously and distant, but it was all she could ask for. As you did so, you averted your eyes downwards and away from your close friend because you couldn’t bear looking at those stupid flowers any longer. 

“If I give you my phone, do you think you could write into my notes app? Tell me what’s wrong? That’s all I want to know, alright?” Again, you nodded, though this time with much more conviction, and Esmee was sure she had never been so relieved in her life. With much more desperation than required, she fumbled through her phone in a rush that would have had you laughing if you weren’t in the state you were in. “Okay, here. Whatever you want or need.”

She watched as your hands trembled whilst typing, and she wasn’t sure what she expected to read but it definitely wasn’t-

Alexia said she needed a break from me.

“What!?” The girl shrieked, Daniëlle having to suppress her laughter at the sudden outburst. Esmee swore she saw the tiniest of smiles on your face. “Wow. What an idiot she is! Look, I am not good at confrontation, or getting angry, or shouting, but… if you want me to do any of those things, I will for you.”

Then, you did smile. Not a bright, beaming, eye-creasing one, but a smile nonetheless. And a shake of your head too for good measure.

“No? Thank god.” She breathed out dramatically, hearing her girlfriend laugh and no doubt rolling her eyes. “I don’t think I could shout at Alexia. You should get Ingrid to do it.” 

No matter how much she wished to, Esmee knew this wasn’t a problem she could solve. She had seen the reply from Alexia a moment ago and decided to not discuss the matter further, because it seemed the captain already had a plan of action and would arrive at any moment. Instead, she did her best to distract you, to cheer you up, with the help of Daniëlle too. 

All was going well, before the gate into the garden creaked open and the sound of heavy footsteps against gravel disrupted the calm that had settled, bringing back all the thoughts you had only just gotten rid of. 

“There you are! Oh, thank god, I-” Alexia cut off her own rambling when she came to her senses, slightly breathless, as she looked at you.

Eyes red from crying earlier, which Esmee had noticed but chose not to mention, and anxiety radiating from your body. Alexia could sense it almost instantly, even from a good few metres away. It was a sharp but necessary reminder of the night’s events and her truly foolish words. 

“Alexia…” Esmee said with a pointed look, her voice stern enough to have the blonde shrinking into herself, even despite the age difference between them both. Turns out, complete and utter anger had no problem making itself known to anyone of any age.

“Could… could you give us some privacy, please?” Alexia asked nervously. The two Dutch women by your side took great pleasure in glaring at her for a couple more seconds before glancing at each other and giving in. 

“Let me know if you need anything, yeah? Anything at all.” Esmee whispered, to which you smiled and leaned into her. She took that as a sign, so wrapped her arm around your shoulders to give you a gentle hug, until she pulled away and linked arms with Daniëlle. One more stare later, and the two left the garden.

For a few moments, the only sounds that could be heard was the wind, winding and weaving through the bushes and trees, leaves brushing against each other, and the noise of it helped to ease the tension for you. Silence in situations like this could be extremely uncomfortable for you, so much so that it was just another thing that could entice you to up and leave at any given moment. However, in this instance, the wind and the sounds of life coming from the streets around you was the perfect peacekeeper. 

Well, it was for you, at least.

Alexia took a couple cautious steps towards you until she knew you weren’t going to tell her to stay away, awkward and shy in her movements. Then she took a seat beside you, ensuring to leave enough space so that you didn’t feel more uncomfortable than you probably already did.

“Engel, I… I am so sorry.” She began in an insecure, worried whisper. As she expected, you gave her no reaction, not a single hint of anything you could be feeling right now. Though, you found yourself staring at those flowers again, wondering how you could let time slip by so fast that you ended up at this point without even realising it. “I didn’t mean that I needed a break from you. I would never ever say that, nor would I ever mean it. I was talking about work, it was a really long day, and I wasn’t thinking stra-”

“You weren’t thinking straight? You weren’t thinking straight when you told me to shut up?” You finally snapped, even out-strengthening your tendency to stay quiet in scenarios like this, all because of how betrayed you felt. The fury was quite obviously kicking in now, white hot anger that set alight every nerve in your body. 

“No no no, I didn’t tell you to shut up! It wasn’t directed towards you, but I know how you could have inferred it, and for that I am more sorry than my stupid mouth could say. I have messed up already, I never want to do that again. I love you, so much. So much, cariño, and I really am so sorry.” 

Her voice trailed off, quivering as it did. Against your will, you found that sudden burst of frustration began to dissipate. It gave way for a disappointing amount of sympathy. You sat there, silent, as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands covering her face. The sniffles coming from her really didn’t help your case, but you weren’t one to give up so quickly.

“Next time you think I’m too much, please tell me. Please save me the embarrassment and tell me to leave you alone. Because to hear you say that? Hurt more than anything in my life.” 

Honestly, your mouth was running on autopilot at this point. Your mind still felt a little hazy, but the words came pouring out regardless. You could have sworn Alexia physically flinched at your words, making you feel guilty, because the idea set in that… maybe, after all this was just a misunderstanding. A miscommunication. 

Whether you were upset or angry or annoyed, Alexia didn’t blame you for it. Of course such a statement, especially in a moment like that, would make you panic so much. Hell, if someone said it to her in the way she said it, she was sure her reaction wouldn’t be too dissimilar to yours. 

With some deep breaths, gaining her composure again, Alexia tentatively slid closer on the bench towards you.

“I do not think you are too much. I do not. I never will.” She said softly, willing away her emotions and, most importantly, her shame, for the sake of making a fighting argument. Fighting for you and your trust. “I promise to you that such words will never leave my lips. I will never say anything like that again, especially directed at you. I made a mistake saying that, and I swear this is not an excuse, but work was really hard. Really tiring. All I wanted then was you and only you. I got home, and I just… wanted to cry. I really wanted to cry. But then I saw you, how happy you were, and I knew that would make me feel better. Plus, I didn’t want to… bring you down from your joy by crying in front of you like that.”

Hearing her say those things, it was hard. You knew instantly it wasn’t a trust thing, that she didn’t tell you what was going on in her mind, but instead just a rather irritating and obviously detrimental habit of hers. Despite that though, here she was, beside you and begging for your forgiveness. Now this was a circumstance you had never found yourself in before – someone saying something that offended you, only to apologise afterwards and explain themselves. 

Yet, you weren’t letting her off that easily.

“But do you understand why I reacted like this?” You wondered. Her answer would determine the future of your relationship with her.

“Yes. Yes, I do, engel, I really do. I know you worry that you will steer people away, or make them think you are weird, things like that. I assure you, you could never steer me away. Never.” She answered you desperately, hoping you were taking her words into account and truly understanding them. 

No matter how much it annoyed you, you found yourself believing her. After all, other than this moment here, she really hadn’t given you a reason to doubt her. In the short time you’d known her, she had done more for you and loved you better than most people had in the years you had known them. Those facts weren’t exactly helping your case in staying mad at her. 

“You promise it was just a bad day at work?” You found yourself mumbling sheepishly, which Alexia took as her signal to move in. She shuffled a little closer again, and deftly took hold of your hands, squeezing them in your lap.

“It was just a bad day at work. It had nothing to do with you, mi amor, I was glad to see you. I really didn't want to off-load my day onto you when you were so happy. I love seeing you happy, you know that, and it cheered me up seeing you like that. I was overwhelmed and stressed because it was such a long, difficult day. I think everything caught up with me. Please believe me when I say it was nothing that you did.” 

Her words were beginning to sink in, especially with how honest and open she was being about her version of the day. Unfortunately, things aren’t that simple.

“So let me take care of you next time, tell me you’ve had a long day and you feel awful, so that I can help you and take care of you. I don’t… why didn’t you want to tell me that in the first place? Don’t you trust me?” 

Alexia could hardly stand the vulnerability and the pain in your voice as you spoke. She held immeasurable amounts of shame towards herself at how she’d hurt you so much. You sounded distraught by the events, and she knew what you were telling her now was just a drop in the ocean of how you actually felt. She was disappointed in herself. From the moment she met you and got to know you, she promised that she wouldn’t hurt you. Maybe that wasn’t a realistic thing to do, since this is life after all and nothing is promised, but she hated herself for causing this. 

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you. But I do trust you, more than anyone in the world. You are everything to me and I am sorry for making you think otherwise. You deserve better and I will work to become that.” It was her turn for her voice to shake as she replied to your doubts, and the tight-lipped smile on her face gave away exactly what was on her mind. 

By this point, you did feel bad for jumping to conclusions, because her reaction now so clearly told you the true meaning of her statement earlier. Pair that with her words here, you didn’t have any reason not to believe her anymore.

Every bone in your body longed for her to hold you, or vice versa. So, you did. You dropped her hands, which panicked Alexia for half a second, before she froze when you turned towards her and wrapped your arms around her shoulders. It took a moment or two for her to catch up, but when she did, she instantly returned your embrace and sighed in relief when her forehead met the side of your neck.

“I’m not sure this is something I can… forget so easily. You say you didn’t mean it but the words came out anyway, and I trust you, but… I worry. And I will continue to worry, and feel anxious, especially on my bad days. This isn’t a quick fix. I’m still going to be scared you did mean it that way.” You told her truthfully. 

This was a moment that needed every ounce of honesty you had to give, even if that might be slightly terrifying, but relationships were built on trust and if you didn’t offer that to each other, then what was the point in it all. Alexia could work with this though, she was more than grateful for the fact you trusted her, even still.

“I understand that, I really do.” Alexia pulled back and her hands came up to hold you by your shoulders. You chance it and look in her eyes, properly, for the first time that night. The emotions present there confirm everything you had come to realise; it was an honest mistake. “I will do everything to erase those anxieties for you. I seriously and genuinely could never think those things about you. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but you will see, in everything I do from now that the way I feel about you is so real, so deep to me. Making you upset? I never intend to do that. I hope you see the true intentions of everything I do with you and for you, because I love and adore you with everything in my body. You are my life now. Thank you for trusting me. That is not something I take for granted, and I never will. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to continue loving you.”

Whereas some people in the past would have laughed at you for getting so worked up at such a ‘small’ thing, Alexia was right in front of you saying all the right things you didn’t even know someone could say about you, especially in a relationship. She wasn’t trivialising or mocking your feelings, she took the time to listen, to understand, and to reassure you. 

One conversation can lead to a lot of things. The one you had just had proved that to the highest degree. No person or thing is perfect, but as long as the time and effort is there, you were certain that your relationship could make it through basically anything. That’s because, despite what had led you two here, you think you might have just fallen even more in love with Alexia than before.

So you gazed up at her, your hands linked loosely behind her neck, and found yourself smiling. You just had one more thing to say to her, which was so important to you for her to know. After all, relationships and communication went both ways. 

“I don’t need you to change. You’re already exactly what I deserve and what I want.” You whispered softly, hoping she understood the depth of your words and realised you forgave her for something that wasn’t her fault in the first place. It was a harmless misunderstanding. 

“I really do love you.” Alexia stated, leaning her forehead against yours and exhaling quietly. Her hands slid off your shoulders and moved to bring you in for another tight hug. “So much.”

“I know you do. I love you too.” At your reply, she turned her head and repetitively placed kisses upon your cheek. 

Some people had no qualms saying you were too much for them, because that’s what they genuinely believed. And it hurts. Others think you’re not quite enough for them, which may also be true for them. But for the people that truly mattered, you were enough, and you always would be. You just have to have a little more faith in yourself.

—

thank you to everyone that reads my stories and supports them, but especially for these ones. can never properly convey how much it means to me, thank you from the bottom of my heart <3

[floraisunwell]

Promise | s.r

who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)

category: angst (bold move ig)

summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.

based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3

dividers by @aquazero

English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!

The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.

Funny, because he was the one to leave.

After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"

That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.

He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.

Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.

Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.

After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.

Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.

He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.

His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.

For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.

But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.

He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.

Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:

"Are you home?"

He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.

You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.

Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.

You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.

"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice

"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.

You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.

Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.

You were not going to let him in.

"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.

"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"

You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.

You let him in.

You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.

 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.

★

Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.

tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated

@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!

[goldsbitch]

Our wedding

Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.

A dream wedding.

Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.

A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.

Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.

That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.

It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.

//

Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?

"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.

"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.

"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.

"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.

"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?

"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"

Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.

"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."

"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."

"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.

"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.

Her eyes just went wide at that point.

"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.

And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"

Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."

"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.

He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."

Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.

"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.

Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."

Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.

She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.

"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.

"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.

Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.

"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.

He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."

Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.

"Right. At least we have that in common."

There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.

"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.

He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."

Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.

All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."

They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"

She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."

The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."

"What do you mean?"

Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."

The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"

Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."

It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"

"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."

The weight of the past weeks was lifted.

"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.

"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."

"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."

"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.

"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."

It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.

"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.

He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."

"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."

"That's my girl!"

//

They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.

[diariesofthelover]

A New Regular

synopsis: After his favorite bookstore in Gotham went out of business, Jason had to find a new one that he’d actually like. He decided to check out one a couple blocks down from his apartment in hopes that it’ll be a decent replacement, when he goes in he finds something worth coming back for.

notes: Jason Todd x reader, 3rd person pov, reader works at a bookstore.

Of course Jason’s favorite bookstore went out of business. It was a small store tucked away in one of Gotham’s less populated neighborhoods meaning that they never got enough sales and it didn’t help that their star customer was “dead” for a couple years.

Now he had to go searching for a replacement, god he had a strong dislike for that word, something that’ll at least be adequate enough since he knew that nothing could ever replace his original bookshop. Not with all the memories, the owners who knew him so well, the atmosphere, and that certain smell that brought him back to the last time where he actually felt happy. The place meant more to him than just a bookstore, it was a piece of his childhood that wasn’t tainted by anything, and now it’s gone.

His search began with another small shop that was only a few blocks down from his apartment, convenient. He wasn’t excited about this, no, he didn’t want to be doing this in the first place. His place should’ve never closed, it should still be there running and waiting for him, but it wasn’t which upset him more than he thought it would.

With a slight scowl on his face he made the walk to the unfamiliar bookstore by his apartment. Jason’s hood was up as usual, trying to keep his face away from people on the street for numerous reasons.

After a few minutes he made it to the possible replacement. It was nuzzled in between a cafe and a record store, fitting. It was small, smaller than the rest of the businesses on the block. With uncertainty Jason walked in, a doorbell sounded signaling his entrance. There were only a few other customers in the store, quietly picking out books to escape to, and no workers in sight.

“At least I won’t be bothered,” he thought to himself.

He headed straight for the classics, hoping to stumble upon a work he hasn’t read yet, practically impossible. As he searched through the novels he heard footsteps coming to this section, being who he was Jason was able to pick up on them several seconds before they got to where he was. When the steps came to a stop Jason looked up from the books to see who was near him now, was it curiosity, paranoia, or both?

What he faced was someone who was either an employee or an extreme book enthusiast as she was holding a stack of books that went so far up that her face was hidden behind the literature.

His first thought was to help, that’s the kind of guy he was or at least used to be, but he didn’t do anything as he looked away and went back looking for books to read. He wasn’t interested in meeting new people and talking to strangers anymore, even if they shared the same love for reading as he did. In fact, the idea alone made his stomach churn which is why he minded his business and kept to himself. People were probably better off without him in their lives anyway.

All of a sudden there was a crash as each book fell to the floor, the noise startling him a little.

“Shit,” he heard the girl swear under her breath as she squatted down to pick up the books.

Jason glanced over to her, she had a name tag signaling that she worked there as well as a defeated expression on her face. The longer he stood there not helping, the faster the guilt began to seep in.

God fucking damn it, fine.

Before he could even register what he was doing, Jason squatted down across from her helping her retrieve the dropped books.

“Oh thank you, you really didn’t have to,” she said shyly.

Jason didn’t respond, instead he gave her a slight nod as his way of saying, “no worries”. He was trying his best to avoid any eye contact and keep his eyes locked on the books but he couldn’t help but take a look at her face.

She was beautiful, fuck, so beautiful actually she may as well of come out of one of the novels she dropped. He quickly looked back down again hoping a blush hadn’t formed on his face, he knew that if he spoke now he’d stutter and make a fool out of himself.

She couldn’t help but steal a couple of glances of him as well. Her gaze went from book to him then back to the books then to his perfect face again. Some may have found him to look incredibly intimidating, most actually, and she did but she also thought him to be incredibly handsome. Maybe she’d been reading too much but he looked like he’d be a character from any of those classic romance novels that she loved.

Jason rose as he gathered the remaining novels. She looked up at him from where she was kneeling below him and to her he looked like god. Forget Austen’s novels, he was from a greek myth. His shoulders muscular and broad even under his red hoodie and brown leather jacket, his thighs thick with muscles hidden under the denim, and his height…well he was certainly tall, much taller than she. She had to be mindful of her facial expressions as she gawked at him for far too long.

He tried to make himself look smaller, tried to relax his muscles and hunch over. He didn’t want to intimidate her or scare her off. After being resurrected, his body began to change rapidly. Yes puberty kicked in but the lazarus pit was like an intense steroid resulting in him being huge, an absolute unit.

Sure, he liked how he looked when he was suited up as Red Hood but when he was without his mask and armor, he left like a brute. His size made him feel like some sort of monster. He didn’t want to scare good people away, especially women, but he knew he appeared incredibly intimidating to them all regardless of what he wanted.

And the scars, god that was the worst part for him. His body is scattered with them from all the fighting he’s done and violence he’s endured, his face not left unmarked either. As a kid, he thought they were cool, that it meant that you were strong and a survivor, now it makes him feel weak and reminds him of what has happened to him and what he became as a result. Each scar held a story, not the kinds he wants to be reading about.

All of these thoughts were swirling in Jason’s head as the bookstore worker looked up at him in what he thought was horror and disgust.

To his surprise she stood up with half of the novels in her hands with a sweet smile on her face.

“Thank you again, that was very kind of you,” she softly said still with a smile on her perfect face.

Jason hadn’t been called kind in awhile, it caught him off guard for a moment as a small smile broke out on his face.

“No problem,” was all he chose to say as he handed her the rest of the books.

“Do you need help finding anything? I practically know where everything is, especially in this section,” she let out a small laugh.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “I’m just browsing, thank you,” his deep voice contradicted his shy tone as he turned his back to her before she could see the blush that threatened to paint his structured face.

“Okay, well just let me know you if need anything, I’ll be around,” she said a little awkwardly.

Disappointed, she went over to the shelf behind Jason to do her job.

The two couldn’t help but look over their shoulders to sneak glances at one another, never catching each other in the process.

She only had one more book left to put away, Frankenstein. Of course, it was on the same shelf that Jason was currently browsing through.

“Excuse me, sorry,” she came up behind him to slip the last novel on the shelf. Jason stepped to the side giving her space, his eyes caught on the book in her hand.

She noticed his possible interest and stopped herself from returning it to its place.

“Oh, did you want to see this one?” She had a hopeful expression on her face as she reached the book out for him to take.

Jason read Frankenstein when he was younger but he hadn’t gone back to it since his death, he feared that it would hit too close to home. He didn’t want to relate to the monster, especially as much as he did, he wanted things to be different. He’d oftentimes fantasize about a life where he didn’t get killed or at least a world where Batman avenged him, these fantasies only screwed with his head more. Maybe it was time for him to really look at reality through a fictional lens, maybe it could help him figure some shit out.

Jason accepted her offer, his calloused fingers brushing against hers when he grabbed the book.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he examined the new cover.

“I really enjoyed that one, it’s actually one of my favorites,” she beamed but got no response from Jason. She quickly grew embarrassed as she felt that he was bothered by her talking and overall presence. In reality, he wanted to hear more. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, she turned away ready to leave him alone.

“Why’s that?” He suddenly asked causing her to turn back around again, his focus still on the book in his large hands.

Caught off guard she took awhile to respond, “The story, the character, well everything about it really I could go on and on.”

Jason finally looked at her, his cheeks heated but he didn’t care he wanted to talk to her.

“I’m listening.”

The pair went on to discuss the book that they both had a love for. Luckily, the store remained relatively dead and no one intruded on their conversation. Jason was mesmerized by the way she spoke and the way she thought. She was charmed by how good of a listener he was and his own takes.

For the next couple hours they had jumped from book to book, connecting pieces of their personal lives to literature, it was their way of getting to know each other.

He felt silly for ever worrying about finding a place that at least was decent. He ended up finding a treasure, one worth coming back for again and again.



[moonsbypadfoot]

interest | theodore nott x female reader.

warnings : angst, fluff, based on real live events that I am still going through! (Some parts are still made up, I've only experienced the first half, the second half are made up) 😘🙃, slytherin reader (doesn't really affect the story), usage of y/n, short, short, short fan fiction, wrote this in like 30 mins, english isn't my first language and I am convinced that I'm dyslexic, second person pov,

have fun reading!

🦖

it was your fifth year at hogwarts, fifth year being friends with pansy, and your fifth year being hopelessly inlove with theodore.

yes, you've had 'relationships' before him, but he was still at the back of your mind. theodore was still lingering.

Theo seemed funny, moody, and so much more, but, you didn't expect him to like books.

Pansy looked down while eating her food, and simply said "you're reading little women too? Theodore loves that book" To which you hushed her immediately.

But that didn't stop you from asking her about Theo,later that day. "He likes it? " You asked, showing the book to pansy, "who likes what? " Pansy scrunched her eyebrows, and you groaned loudly.

"Theodore, pansy, Theodore! "

Pansy nodded her head, saying "oh yeah, he likes it". You gasped at how chill she is, and you said " This might be it pansy! ".

And oh you were right, it is it. You and daphne were sitting on a bench, gossiping about other people. When all of the sudden, Theodore passed you two, and said "Laurie, mhm? ".

"So you do like little women? " You and daphne's attention were shifted to him "since forever", and just like that, he left.

That became a more and more of a schedule for you to sit on that same bench everyday, on the exact same time. Daphne doesn't know that you still like him, it was well common knowledge that you used to like Theodore, but, everyone thought that you had moved on.

Daphne was so tired of Theodore, that whenever she sees him coming to you two, she'd roll her eyes sand say stuff like 'here he goes again' and make the biggest sigh ever.

Your first 'real' conversation was him coming up to you, saying "I like jo more than amy". At that point you didn't know what to say, neither Daphne or Pansy was there to make you less tense.

You scoffed "Amy is way better". You tried to keep yourself cool, and you did just that.

For days to days you two became closer. You'd have little chit chats after dinner, and your liking for him became bigger, but it shouldn't have.

"I have some little women.. Merch, I can send it to your room, later" Theodore suggested. "First of all, pansy would kill me if I had a boy in my room. Second of all, that will not happen cause if you do the stairs will turn into a literal slide and make you look stupid" You said, to which he just started at you.

You stupidly dreamt of him in your room, which is obviously forbidden.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne eventually found out about you still liking him, and she's convinced that Theo likes you back.

"Do you not remember what he said? 'I used to like little women, now I like it again because of her' and the boy pointed at you! And do you not remember quidditch? "

Oh boy, you do remember Quidditch.

His Quidditch match was last Wednesday, and two days before that, you two made a bet. If he won, you have to give him 15 galleons, and if he lose, he has to give you 15 galleons.

See, that same week, your professors had bombarded everyone with exams. So, if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have watched any of the Quidditch stuff.

That Wednesday, you kept exactly 15 galleons in your pocket. And, unsurprisingly he won. The slytherins celebrated like crazy, and, after that, you came up to him, saying "I could've bought myself candy but, I have your 15 galleons".

"No need for that," Theodore softly smiles, and went back to his friends who were cheering and waiting for him.

That day you couldve swore you spent a thousand hour telling pansy what you felt.

All of the sudden, Theodore didn't seem interested. You hadn't told Daphne about this, but pansy is so mas at him for the sudden stop of interest.

"See, boys are immature" Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to know about his friend and, theodore-"

"Not so loud! " You sushed her, reminding that you two were still in the great hall. You doubt anyone heard you but, still, for safety reasons. "How about.. My 'him', we can call him uh.. "

"Toaster, cause if he doesn't act right Im gonna-"

"Hold your horses, pansy, let's call him trex"

"Fine, you're way too nice for that guy, and uhm, what should I call my 'him'? " Pansy asked, and, there was one minute of silence.

"Maybe trial number #2? "

That was the day your nicknames were born, and, things excelated from there. 'Trial #2', which is blaise, talked to pansy in the Slightest way possible, and 'trex' which is theo is talking to you, but he makes the conversation as dry as possible.

Theo is almost always the conversation starter, but when it comes to keeping the conversation going, it's you, and it is hardwork to keep Theo talking to you

That also reminded you of a conversation you had a long, long time ago with millicent. About how he's broken home and doesn't have a mother, and turns out it was true.

"So, that explains the on and off thing with you and him" Pansy shrugged "if you're really in love with him, you're in some really deep shit. Trial #2 barely talks to me"

and in deep shit you are, as the days became longer because he didn't want to talk to you. Pansy convinced you enough to just stop talking to him.

You felt better but, there is still something in you still craving him dearly.

"He's just there, pansy, like.. Like a word about to be spoken, but then vanishes out of our brains! One second he's there and the next he's gone! " You complained.

What made you more confused is that, you and him became more confusing. You felt like you're more than a friend, but you don't know what it is because of one thing he said.

It was common for you friends, lorenzo, and Mattheo, to tease you about Theo. It's as if they know.

Obviously, Theo was there too, along with Daphne next to you. "Y/n, I think you and Theodore are a good fit" Lorenzo laughed, and the others chimed with agreement. But, it was a subtle whisper from Theo that made you down for the rest of the day. "Don't say that, I like astoria"

You kept laughing, though it was obvious for those who actually knows you that your laugh was so fake.

You kept ignoring him, and you truly do feel better for once. As pansy says 'give him taste of his own medicine ' and you did what she said, and you felt better, for awhile.

Till he came up to you and forced you to confess.

"The fuck is wrong with you y/n? " Theodore said. "What do you mean? " You said, but, the pit in your stomach tells you exactly what he means.

"You're avoiding me. I thought we were friends"

"That's the problem" You said, in a confusing tone, which made him think.. Was it a question or a statement?

"I thought we couldve been more, Theo" You rolled your eyes at his oblivion, and you paused "you like astoria, don't you, mhm? You said it yourself".

Theo frowned "don't act so innocent, you and Macmillan were so close I thought you two were dating".

"I wasn't" You paused, "I moved on a long time ago, unlike you, no one moves on in the span of two weeks".

"Her friends told me she doesn't like me! "

"So what? That makes it right? I don't care if she likes you or not, I care if you like her or not. If I'm just your second choice, this won't work. Pansy told me that I'm better than any boys in Hogwarts, and I agree with her! Because boys like you suck"

"I like you, okay? Will you get that into your thick skull?" Theodore groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're weird" You said, "what about me Is weird? " Theo asks.

"Your on and off stuff. You act interested, then when I actually wanna talk to you you get so dry, do you not think of that? Or you're actually really dumb? "

"You ignored me too"

"That's because I wanted you to feel what I felt! "

You honestly felt sad but, anger was more visible. But Theo looked emotionless. He wasn't happy, angry, sad, he was just there.

You both wanted to say something, but you didn't. Neither you nor Theo said a thing. You opened your bag and found your book, well, technically his.

"Here's a book that i borrowed" You said, giving it to him. "You can keep it" Theo pushed the book back to you, but your hand didn't budge. "No thanks, theo.. Ive written somethings in pencil. Don't worry too much because it's so thin you could barely tell what I wrote, a single swipe with your finger or eraser, it'll be gone".

A week has passed. And you knew for a fact he didn't re read the book.

On your favorite page, you wrote 'three broomsticks, next month, 9:00 AM? ' a month ago.

You knew way more than to come there, or did you?

[endereies]

A TOUCH I CAN TRUST - MS

No Nut November - Day 24

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ A painting brings some old memories to light when you and Matt visit the museum (sexual assault mentions - tw)

You couldn’t take your eyes off it, like it was staring back at you. You knew why.

It was so perfectly manicured, each brushstroke airbrushed to perfection. A gorgeous woman stood slightly of centre, staring at the viewer. Long brown hair that flowed past her chest and down to her hips was neatly pushed behind her ears. Even so, it left a small gap where her collarbone showed through, the highlight evident with pure titanium white. Her dress was one similar to one in your own closet, a sweet ivory. A few plaid lines just below the sewed in corset. The only difference was that this was longer, stretching to her ankles. She didn’t feel beautiful, anyone could see that on her face. The vibrant white stood against the muted colours once more, presenting a single tear. Why cry when one is so beautiful, so modest.

The man made that clear. He was centred in the frame, stood proud and confident. He was meant to be there. His hair was less neat than hers, a few curls tossed around his face. Positioned behind her, his hands grip her hips, bunches of clothing bundled around his hands. He was a man of power, the sprays of purple in his suit showing it. Proudness shone over his expressions, a mindset that was common.

That’s when you saw it, the red tints over the wrong parts of them. It wasn’t obvious unless you looked close enough, the slight pink in her clothing. Like a poorly covered mistake. Mistake? It covered her neck too, thought to be poorly interpreted lighting. Maybe it was a poorly interpreted ‘no’. his hands were covered in it, too vibrant to be a shadow.

The closer you looked at her solemn face, the more it all morphed. Her features changed. A soft button nose turning sharp, the eye colour mixing with swatches, becoming muddy. He changed too. His hair wasn’t curly anymore which now illustrated all his features, all the wrong ones. It was too familiar to ignore. How could you ignore anything about the twin etched in oils?

Your own skin grew red as you kept scratching at it, the same areas he did, begging you to ‘sit still’. Swallows grew dry in your throat, making you almost gag on the dry feeling. You just couldn’t look away. The background was blank, but the painting moved so it couldn’t be avoided. Moving your hands away from your body didn’t help, they only went to your lips, a silent barrier between your imagination. The woman twitched through your glossed eyes. God, you hated calling her that. She had a name, she is a person, real or not. She may have been a creation, but don’t creations get given titles of meaning, of value? Why was she different? Why did her name have to be connected with her past?

You didn’t dare blink. If you did, not only would you cry but without a witness, she could get hurt. Don’t be ridiculous, she wasn’t real. You were. Who was watching you? Who was watching you, except him? He stared at you again, straight forward, taunting you.

Nothing helped you feel any better, not when he was there. You were too emersed in it to notice to hot tears that flushed your face. You understood the red, it tainted your own skin. Was it comforting that someone else felt the same as you?

“Sweetheart…?” Honey seeped into your ears, soothing the tremors like a sore throat. One look at the painting and he understood, he’d seen this piece before. It was a main headline on the museum’s website when he booked tickets here. He knew the meaning and it’s all too familiar comparisons. It was easy to piece from there.

Matt didn’t want to startle you with his touch, he learnt that quickly. He needed you to ease into it,  but it was hard if you didn’t know it was there to begin with. On a whim, he lightly feathered your arm, a place he didn’t know to be a trigger. Yet you still reacted.

Your body was jolted out of thought, the clench of your eyes making another tear fall. It didn’t matter that it was in public, it mattered that it was happening. Every part of you wanted to soften your body but it was just so stiff.

“Hey, breath, it’s just me, okay? Do you want to hold my hand.” Through the anxiety you sprung to grip his hand, your longer nails almost forcing into Matt’s skin. The curls of his hair returned, there was safety in Matt. He was a little shorter too. He wasn’t the same.

“Here, I just want you to relax” He didn’t dare touch you anymore than what you allowed, so he shifted his body so not only weren’t you no longer looking at the painting, but people also couldn’t look at you. “You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you.”

His comments just drew you closer to him, away from everything else. It was too much to try and focus on anything else. Why did you have to react so pathetically?

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” You scrapped any coherent syllables together.

“I know sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” You moved a hand to wipe your face, freeing your sight.

“I thought I was better, thought I moved on…” your body shrunk into itself, a shell of what you were fifteen minutes prior.

Matt’s soul crushed itself at your words, they stung so deep knowing that was how you thought of yourself. “You are better, this whole process isn’t linear, I’d be surprised if it was. You’ve come so far, kid, and I’ve seen it first-hand. You’re so amazing and you’re so strong. But you don’t have to carry this weight alone. Why don’t be grab something to eat so you can relax?”  

“Yes please, thank you…” Matt replied with a squeeze of your hand, a silent sign of his devotion to you, a touch you could trust.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

They had a bad day at work and they come home to you

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- The day had been nothing short of chaos, even by Joker’s standards. The heist went sideways, his crew made careless mistakes, and Batman was an ever-present thorn in his side. As he sat in the wreckage of his latest hideout, his manic laughter began to falter, replaced by an unfamiliar weight in his chest. His mind drifted to you, your laugh, your touch—things that had no place in his twisted world, yet they crept in anyway.

- He hated feeling this way, this nagging pull toward something soft, something vulnerable. But the thought of you brought a strange kind of clarity amidst his spiraling madness. The idea of you waiting for him, unjudging and warm, was the only thing that kept him from descending further into his own chaos.

- By the time he reached your shared home, his steps were less erratic, his usual grand entrance subdued. He found you curled up with a book, the glow of the lamp casting soft shadows across your features. For a moment, he simply stood there, watching you, the tension in his body slowly unraveling.

- “Miss me, doll?” he finally said, his voice lacking its usual theatrics. You looked up, and the way your face lit up when you saw him felt like a balm to his frayed nerves. Without a word, you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, grounding him in a way he didn’t think was possible.

- He sank into the embrace, his head resting against yours as he let out a long sigh. “Rough day,” he murmured, an uncharacteristic honesty slipping through his defenses. You didn’t push for details, knowing he’d share only what he wanted. Instead, you just held him, your quiet presence enough to soothe the storm inside him.

- Later, as you ran your fingers through his hair while he stretched out beside you, he found himself talking more than usual. He recounted his day in fragmented pieces, the frustration in his voice giving way to something softer as he focused on you.

- “You make it bearable, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “All this madness... it’s not so bad when I know I’ve got you.” For a man like Joker, the admission was monumental, and though he’d never say it outright, he was terrified of losing the one piece of sanity in his life: you.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s day had been a whirlwind of bad luck. The cops were relentless, her latest plan fell apart, and to top it off, one of her so-called allies betrayed her. By the time she managed to escape, she was exhausted and on edge, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced with a rare scowl.

- Sitting on a rooftop to catch her breath, her mind wandered to you. The thought of your easy smile and calming presence made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t quite describe. You were her sanctuary, the one person who saw her for more than just the chaos she caused.

- When she finally made her way home, she burst through the door with her usual energy but faltered when she saw you waiting for her. “Hey, puddin’,” she said, her voice softer than usual. You immediately noticed the exhaustion in her eyes and beckoned her over.

- Without hesitation, she flopped onto the couch beside you, burying her face in your shoulder. “It’s been a day,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. You ran your fingers through her hair, letting her vent in her own way.

- Harley wasn’t one to wallow, but tonight, she let herself be vulnerable with you. She talked about the betrayal, the frustration, and the weariness that came with always having to keep up her wild persona. You listened without judgment, offering her the comfort she rarely let herself ask for.

- “Ya know,” she said after a long pause, looking up at you with a small smile, “you’re like my safe place or somethin’. Weird, huh? Me, Harley Quinn, needin’ someone to keep me grounded.” She laughed, but there was a sincerity in her words that made your chest tighten.

- That night, as you lay tangled together, she held onto you like a lifeline. For all her bravado and chaos, Harley Quinn had a heart that beat fiercely for those she loved, and you were the one person who got to see it in its entirety.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy’s day had been grating in every possible way. Corporate polluters had ruined one of her prized gardens, Gotham’s heat was stifling, and her attempts to protect the environment felt like they were being undone faster than she could act. It left her feeling helpless, a rare and unwelcome emotion for someone so fiercely independent.

- As she retreated to her sanctuary, the thought of you crossed her mind. You, who managed to bring a sense of peace to her chaotic existence. You, who never judged her for her extremes but instead supported her in ways no one else could.

- When she arrived home, the sight of you tending to one of her plants made her pause. You looked up with a smile, and for the first time that day, she felt the tension in her chest begin to ease.

- “You’re home,” you said softly, setting the plant down and walking over to her. She didn’t say anything at first, just pulled you into a gentle embrace, letting the warmth of your presence soothe her frayed nerves.

- “It’s been... difficult,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Ivy wasn’t one to show weakness, but with you, she didn’t feel the need to hide. You listened as she vented, offering words of encouragement that felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

- As the night went on, she found herself leaning into you more, her usually guarded demeanor softening in your presence. “You have a way of making everything seem... manageable,” she said, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm.

- Ivy wasn’t one to rely on others, but you had become her exception. In a world that constantly fought against her, you were her oasis, and she realized that she’d do anything to keep you by her side.

Bane

- Bane’s day had been a relentless grind of planning, fighting, and asserting his dominance over those who dared challenge him. He was used to the weight of leadership, but today had been particularly taxing, leaving him with a rare sense of fatigue.

- As he sat alone in the dim light of his quarters, his thoughts drifted to you. The memory of your touch, your voice, and your unwavering support brought an unexpected calm to his usually restless mind.

- When he returned home, his imposing figure filled the doorway, but his usual stoicism was softened by the sight of you. “You’re back,” you said, your voice filled with genuine relief. He nodded, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him.

- Bane rarely showed vulnerability, but tonight, he let you see the weariness etched into his features. “It was... challenging,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. You guided him to sit, your hands gentle as they brushed against his.

- As you cared for him, he found himself relaxing in a way he hadn’t thought possible. “You ease my burden,” he said, his voice rough but sincere. “In a world of conflict, you are my peace.”

- That night, as he lay beside you, his massive frame curled protectively around you, he realized just how much you meant to him. You weren’t just his partner; you were his anchor, the one person who made him feel human in a life filled with inhuman challenges.

- Bane was a warrior, a leader, and a force to be reckoned with, but with you, he allowed himself to be something he rarely acknowledged: a man deeply in love. And he would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- The day had been grueling for Jonathan. His experiments had failed, his underlings proved incompetent, and Gotham’s criminal underworld continued to undervalue his genius. As he sat in his lab, surrounded by shattered vials and the acrid smell of fear toxins, his thoughts drifted. He was unused to thinking of anything outside his work, but tonight, your face crept into his mind, unbidden but strangely comforting.

- He hated the vulnerability that came with caring for someone, yet the image of you smiling, oblivious to his current frustrations, brought a rare calm to his racing thoughts. For a moment, he considered what it might be like to let someone in, to share the weight of his ambitions.

- When he returned home, his mind was a storm of frustration and unacknowledged feelings. He found you reading by the dim light of the living room lamp, the atmosphere serene in stark contrast to his chaotic day. You looked up and smiled, a gesture so simple yet disarming that it stopped him in his tracks.

- “You’re back,” you said softly, closing your book. He stood there for a moment, silent, before stepping into the room and sitting beside you. His usual cold demeanor seemed to melt as you rested your hand on his arm. “Rough day?” you asked gently.

- “Understatement,” he murmured, his voice low and strained. To his surprise, he began to talk—about the failures, the frustrations, and the nagging feeling that he was losing control. You listened without judgment, your quiet presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

- Later, as you sat together in comfortable silence, your head resting against his shoulder, he felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. “You’re a curious distraction,” he muttered, the closest thing to a confession you’d ever get from him. But in that moment, it was enough.

- As he watched you drift off to sleep beside him, he realized that the fear he wielded so effectively was nothing compared to the fear of losing you. And for the first time, Jonathan Crane felt like he might have something worth protecting.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey’s day had been a balancing act, both figuratively and literally. Between keeping his criminal empire running and battling the constant inner turmoil of his dual personality, he was exhausted. The endless decisions weighed on him, the coin offering little solace as the world demanded answers he couldn’t always provide.

- As he sat in his office, the remnants of the day’s chaos strewn around him, his thoughts wandered to you. He tried to dismiss it—what place did you have in his fractured world? But the memory of your voice, your touch, brought a rare sense of calm to his warring mind.

- When he finally came home, the sight of you was like a balm to his frayed nerves. “Harvey,” you greeted warmly, your smile softening the hard lines of his face. He hesitated at the door, unsure how to bridge the gap between the chaos of his world and the peace you offered.

- “Rough night,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. You didn’t press him for details, simply guiding him to sit with you on the couch. Your hands found his, and he marveled at how steady they felt against his own trembling ones.

- “You ground me,” he confessed quietly, his dual-toned voice raw with emotion. “You make it easier to face the chaos.” It was rare for him to be so open, but you had a way of coaxing the vulnerable parts of him out into the light.

- That night, as you both lay in bed, he found himself studying your face in the dim light. For a man so accustomed to uncertainty, the clarity of his feelings for you was both terrifying and exhilarating.

- “You’re my constant,” he whispered, his fingers brushing against your cheek. And in that moment, Harvey Dent, the man and the villain, knew that he had something worth fighting for, no matter how fractured he might be.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward’s day had been an exercise in frustration. His latest riddle had stumped even himself, his henchmen were incompetent, and Batman had gotten far too close to his plans. He prided himself on his intellect, but today, the cracks in his carefully constructed facade were starting to show.

- As he paced his lair, the thought of you crept into his mind. He scoffed at first—what place did affection have in a mind as brilliant as his? But the memory of your laugh, your wit, and the way you looked at him like he was more than just his intellect gnawed at the edges of his focus.

- When he finally returned home, his usual sharp tongue was dulled by exhaustion. You greeted him with your usual warmth, and he found himself momentarily speechless. “Rough day?” you asked, tilting your head in that way that always made him want to tell you everything.

- “You could say that,” he replied, collapsing into the chair across from you. You didn’t press him, instead offering him a knowing smile as you brought him a cup of tea. It was such a simple act, yet it brought a warmth to his chest he couldn’t quite explain.

- As the night wore on, he found himself talking—about the failures, the frustrations, and the gnawing doubt that maybe he wasn’t as infallible as he liked to think. You listened patiently, your quiet confidence in him a stark contrast to his own insecurities.

- “You have a way of making me feel... human,” he admitted, his voice soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable. It was a rare moment of honesty from a man who thrived on puzzles and misdirection.

- As you both sat together in the quiet, he realized that for all his riddles and schemes, you were the one thing in his life that wasn’t a mystery. And that thought terrified him as much as it comforted him.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald’s day had been a disaster. The Iceberg Lounge had been raided, his business deals had fallen through, and he’d had to deal with more than his fair share of incompetence from his lackeys. By the time the day was over, he was seething with frustration, his usual charm replaced with cold anger.

- As he sat alone in his office, nursing a glass of whiskey, his thoughts wandered to you. He prided himself on his independence, but tonight, the thought of you waiting for him brought an unfamiliar sense of comfort.

- When he finally returned home, he was met with the sight of you waiting for him, your expression soft with concern. “Long day?” you asked gently. He grunted in response, too tired to offer his usual witty retort.

- You didn’t push him to talk, simply guiding him to sit beside you and placing a hand on his shoulder. The tension in his body began to ease under your touch, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable.

- “It’s exhausting,” he admitted, his voice low. “Always having to be one step ahead, always having to fight for every inch.” You listened quietly, your presence a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

- As the night wore on, he found himself opening up more than he ever had before. “You’re the one thing in my life that isn’t a struggle,” he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

- That night, as he held you close, he realized just how much you meant to him. For all his schemes and ambitions, you were the one thing he’d fight to keep, the one person who made him feel like more than just the Penguin.

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (IX)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,455

CW: angst? some fluff (like they reunite and don't hate each other and decide to start over), tensions, refrences of past SA, not proofread!

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n i hate this, but it's kind of a filler chapter anyway

Aemond

Aemond had been both eager and nervous for her return.

Though counting down the days, planning on how he would greet you, he also was scared.

He know she felt ignored by him, betrayed by how he had just stopped replying to her letters. Ignored her name days, ignored her completely.

But that was not entirely true.  He had wanted so badly to reply, writing letter upon letter, though some were just mindless scribbles. But not once did he find he wrote a letter worthy of her, worthy of the emotions he felt. He needed space and he had shown he needed it in the worse possible way.

He had hated how he knew some version of her, a guarded version. Her letters expressing less and less, over time just mere updates of her life before stopping altogether. And he hated that the version she knew of him was the scared little boy he had tried so hard to get ride of.

The version of Aemond he had gotten ride of, in all ways but with her. He wanted to be the old Aemond with her, but hated that he did. It was why he needed the space, the time to heal, the time to become the man he is today.

But as he stood in the training yard, staring at her as she talked to him, so ddiffernt, so cold.

He knew he made a mistake.

She was so different, she had changed, and not just her personality.

But her looks also. Gods she was the most stunning and beautiful woman he had ever seen, he had always thought it impossible for her to become more beautiful.

But her beauty was clouded by the look in her eyes, the anger, the hurt and the loneliness.

She looked so alone, even as she walked out the courtyard with her brothers, laughing. She same old melodic laugh that could capture a room. The loneliness ceased slightly when he looked into them, as if she was finally being seen.

He understood. There eyes always talked to each other, expressing their true emotions, it why he knew his eyes mirrored hers, but they also showed another emotion, regret.

Regret for reading your letters time and time again, annotating them as if they were quotes from his favourite novel. Regret from the stack of unsent letters he kept in his bedside draw.

Each filled with his thoughts. Most mindless scribbles, unfished letters ending with angry scribbled out words as words escaped him, as  fear filled him.

He had tried to write of the events in his life even detailing his fights with Ser Criston, his rides with Vaghar, the books he read. And yet he could never send them, fear of her seeing his liefe and not understanding why he needed the space, or fear that he would see the darkest parts of his mind grew as the years went on. The sweet kind boy she had once new fading, and a cruel, vengeful man taking his place.  

He had once longed to be a protector, her sworn sword, doing good in her name. now…now he revelled in fear. He loved how the woman would run at the sight of his sapphire eye, a sight he knew deep down she never would. He revelled in revenge, revenge by going to the brothel, the place of his hurt, and burning it.

It was ruthless, but the second he had done it, he felt free, healed.

And yet fear still gripped at him, fear of wheat you know thought of him.

Fear that she would not accept the new him, but as he had started at you he felt like the old sweet Aemond was still in there somewhere, but only for her, his Sapphire.

Watching her sway away he knew he had limited time, this week was the first week of their official courtship, but the week after they would begin the moon long celebrations for their wedding.

Celebrations were they would spend day after day, hour after hour together being the perfect couple.

And he didn’t want it to be an act.

He had returned to his rooms, opening his bedside draw, but instead of reaching for her letter he reached for his own, and realised what he wanted to do.

He waited, two days. Two days of agony.

He had somehow hoped those two days he would be able to approach her, talk to her. But now, all he could was watch her. Watch her spend day after day in someone else’s company

Whether it was one of the tens of ladies begging for her favour and chance at becoming her lady, or her brother Jace, or even Aegon.

Gods he had forgotten about Aegon’s obsession with her. He knew they wrote, Aegon often bragging about it. With Aegon telling him about her, their little jokes, their shared secrets.

Not that he was jealous, no. He was not jealous of how Aegon seemed to act as if they were betrothed to each other. For two days they seemed to walk everywhere together, sit with each other at dinners. Though her eyes were often searching for Aemond’s, Aegon’s eyes were always firmly planted on her. And whenever she wasn’t with him, he was like a lost pup, waiting for her to appear.

Those two days, though never alone they often found the other staring, their mouths would being to form words that they were never able to form. And so he finally built up the courage and sent her his letters.

Visenya

When she had received Aemond’s letters she did not know what to expect.

They had appeared on her dresser, all 112 of them. Though some were scrapes of paper with random thoughts scribbled across them. One just one word repeated, 110 times.

Her name written, again and again, in the same neat, perfect handwriting Aemond had always had.

She then realised what this was, an apology.

She found the first letter he wrote that was left unsent, and she felt her heart break.

Dearest Visenya,

I am so sorry, I can not say why it has taken so long for me to only now reply.

Prepahs it was the guilt.

I never should of come to Winterfell, You had been kind and sweet, but I fear your kindness is unwarranted. I do not desire pity, I regret coming that night, I regret allowing you to see me so weak and scared. My whole life I have sworn to be your protector, your sword. And that night as I cried in your arms I felt like a small child, I felt smaller than when I did when Lucerys tore out my eye. And I hated it.

I have tried to look past it, look at it in away where I do not come across a whiny little boy and I am nothing but ashamed.

I had hoped to write you, bragging of my successes and yet all I can do I wallow In self pity at how I acted that night.

It matters not that I bested ser Criston for the first time, or how often I ride Vaghar.

For all I can think about it the look of pity you gave me.I do not need nor want your pity, my sapphire.

You gave me a place to stay and a place to cry, but I shall make it clear to you that the Aemond you saw that night is long gone. And shall never return. He can never return, not for you not for anyone.

So sweet, I shall not answer your request to come to Winterfell, I need the space, the time and so do you.

I fear distance is what we need, though we may hate it, I need to become Prince Aemond, and not just scared little Aemond, the boy who lost is eye, the boy who cried in your arms.

Yours, whether I say it or not,

Aemond

Dearest Visneya,

It has been near six moons since I last wrote you, and you are writing less and less.

I have been cruel, I know. I have ignored you in the favour of bettering myself.

I do not deserve you, or your kindness even still.            

You seem to be doing well, a fact I envy not too see. But I myself am not.

I miss you more and more each day, I find myself looking for you ate very turn. And yet it has been over a year since you were at the red keep.

So much has changed, Aegon and Heleana are to wed soon, I have started training with a real sword.

I no longer wake in sweats from that night.

So much has changed and yet I have so little words to say, I hate it!

I used to have all the words in the world for you, never once fearing how you viewed me. For I knew how you viewed me then.

And now I fear you will judge me.

Hate me.

Resent me.

I fear I have become a stranger, and yet I have a dozen unsent letters all addressed to you, read and read time and time again your own.

I know you, and I fear you.

Fear your opinion of me, how you view me.

I fear-      

Most of his letters just ended, frustration finding him far to quickly, some were just mindless words and phrases.

Visenya,

I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you  I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you .

Some were hateful, words said in anger, at how she still cared.

Dear Visenya,

Stop writing me.

How long must I ignore you to realise I want not to know you as we once did.

How am I to become the man you desire we spend all our time writing each other, stuck in our silly little heads!

Then gossip filled the red keep, gossip that Cregan had asked for your hand.

Visneya,

please, my sapphire, I beg of you do not marry him!

Your mother bids it but I do not!

Please.

And then her letters had stopped and he left once last letter to her.

Visneya,

Please, don’t stop writing me!

I know I have not been a friend to you but a stranger but without your letters the world has stopped.

I now I am a hypocrite, a hypocrite who cannot find the words. Who never has been able to speak his feelings, but show them.

I know not of a gesture to prove I want you till, I crave you and I need you.

but please, I cannot live without you, knowing you, please.

Please!

forever your Aemond.

Gods, she thought, he had to been hurt. Though not by her, and she had resented him for it. Resented how he had opened up to her, and then abandoned her ignored her for so long.

She knew it was hard for, he was never one for words. Gestures yes, but words? They always frustrated him, he could never formulate his feelings and yet this, the scribbled erratic thoughts and letters, unedited and rushed. They showed so much but also so little.

She has spent the whole day reading those letters, seeing no one bar her maid delivering her meals. And had it not been for her mother coming to grab her for dinner, demanding her presence, she would have sat on her thoughts all day and night.

But as she was sat next to Aemond she realised she would have less time to think on what Aemond’s gesture meant and what it meant for them.

“Aemond” she greeted, flipping her hair to the side as she sat.

“Senya” he greeted in response, eyes firmly on her.

 She squirmed in her seat, unsure on where to start. “Senya” he said again, capturing her attention, as they made eye contact some tension left her body.

“why?” she asked, its all she could think of, why?

He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting this conversation now, “I was never one for words, Visneya. But gestures, have always been something I excel at.” He moved his head closer to her, their conversation too private for prying eyes. “ I never should have ignored you, I know realise, it hurt us both, more than I ever thought” he shifted in his seat “seeing the look in your eyes when you arrived and realising I had made a mistake”

She nodded, urging him on, as she began to plate up her food.

“I focused solely on myself, I was selfish, but I won’t lie to you, my sapphire”

My sapphire, she liked that.

“I have become selfish and cruel, I have become a man who craves fear, but not from you, never from you”

“then what do you want from me?” she asked softly, before nervously looking to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. “you did not want companionship from me, you ignored me for years on end, and yet by the end of the moon we will be wed!” she took a breath “if you have truly become selfish, and cruel, how do I know that it is for your betterment? And how will I know that you wont ever make me fear you?”

“because I became that person, so that I never have to feel fear again, feel the fear I felt at Driftmark, at that… at that brothel” she sighed, taking her hand in his “ I want to be your protector, it is all I have ever wanted, and how could I become that if I remained that scared, naïve little boy?”

Everything he was saying was true, but it also made her realize she did not know him anymore.

She breathed in “perhaps we should start over? Get to know one another again?”

He nodded, “I would like that”

next part

Taglist

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[thatneoncrisis]

could you explain your reasoning for butch harrow? im asking this in a way a student asks a master

ok so. up top: do i think harrow is butch in canon? no. god no. absolutely not. secret third category of person. not butch or femme shes just like A Guy who really fucking likes black

however i do think that between those two ends of a nebulous spectrum, being butch would be way more comfortable for her than femme, if we think of it in the most traditional sense for both sides. there are literally exceptions to every rule femmes can have short hair and wear pants, butches can have long hair and wear makeup yadda yadda. but the way she interacts with certain elements of her presentation in canon just felt to ME, PERSONALLY, that being traditionally feminine would freak her the fuck out

ive seen people compare her compulsion to wear the skull paint to a need to wear makeup and i. very much disagree. id see it more as like, an overtly religious thing, like a nuns habit or a hijab, its modesty and how she shows respect for her god, also routine, its as natural as putting on pants for her. and also frankly if it was an analog for traditional makeup that would be uuuuh awful. like I genuinely feel terrible for women who cannot even leave the house without foundation or contouring or whatever i dont know shit about makeup but holy fuck. if shes femme in that analog id be shaking her by the shoulders GIRL. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE A NAKED ANIMAL

another thing is her hair. so many people read her having short hair and immediately went to a bob or a pixie cut. and between tamsyns inconsistent description of the length of her hair in book one (saying its stuck to her face with sweat despite them being there for like, a month) and the htn cover being The best image we have of her, i understand that conclusion. but in the beginning of gtn its said its close cropped, tamsyn said on her blog post describing all the characters its "cut short (as benefits someone in a monestary)" which is a very interesting choice of words tbh. like im sute she didnt mean harrow is completely bald in the middle with a ring of hair but that Is the monk haircut. and then finally harrow says to gideon outright "i wont cut you bald-even though your hair is ridiculous- because I know you wont shave it every day" which i always took to mean being shaved down to the scalp is just how the ninth is traditionally. in harrow the ninth its said "occasionally ticklish rasps at your ears or forehead would frighten you numb before you realized ut was your own hair" indicating that she is not used to that length at all. also theres the fact that ianthe made her hair grow faster particularly to fuck with her. in short harrows haircut is shitty and utilitarian and any fussing with it has only been described in relation to her direct discomfort

finally theres that goddamn dress scene. why did ianthe put her in that stupid fucking thing. humilation tactic (im exaggerating but it basically was explicitly and exclusively for ianthes own amusement). shes such a simple girl, she just wanted something that could cover her up. its not impossible to have a longsleeved formless dress, but beyond my own opinion that i think harrow would have been uncomfortable in anything, i think the fact this like, explicit symbol of femininity is used to further degrade her in some sense in a room full of people who font reapect her feels like. intentional on the authors end. it quite literally just isnt her, its not even a true black its like a deep midnight blue. you get the pretty woman makeover scene but harrow comes out of it more miserable and resigned than ever. augustines approval means nothing. she looks in the mirror and sees her mother, a woman she appears to not have a single fond memory about. its all very sad

tldr when i talk about butch harrow its less about her "being butch" and more about how unfemme i think she is. also i want more butch4butch dykes i think gideon and camilla should teach her how to tie a tie.

[shelbgrey]

✨Pookie😏✨Mother Pinecone🥳✨Fellow Simp🤩✨ can I request some lovely shrexy headcanons for the one and only Sammy Winchester😳 I just need some fluff and steamy steamy spicy headcanons please🥹 I’ll pay😉🫴💰💳💵

Dating Sam Winchester Headcanons:

Paring: Sam Winchester X Singer!Reader

Summary: headcanons about Sam dating Bobby Singer's kid. -SMUT warning!

💚MasterList ML2 💚MoodBoard

Between Sam being John's kid and you being Bobby's, you spent a lot of time together as kids.

You were always closer to Sam, you and him bonded over books and you were both the quiet ones.

It was obvious there was something between you two even when you were kids, but you were both completely clueless.

“the only two people who don't know Sam and y/n like each other are Sam and y/n” - Dean

But then he went off to college, you guys talked through letters and Emails for the first few months. Then he met Jes and you guys talked less and less.

Deep down Sam knew he dated Jess just to get over you, but then he felt awful to think that way after she died.

He never would have expected that you'd show up with Dean, telling him John was missing. Sam honestly hated to see the skilled hunter you have become, he always thought you deserved better.

Deep down he knew he stayed for you. College didn't matter much to him anymore and neither did finding his dad. He rekindled his friendship with you and wanted to protect you.

Hell, he would take you away from the hunting life if he could.

Before you knew it the three of you were a trio again. Saving people and hunting things together.

Then before you knew it you and Sam both fell back in to your original, clueless act you had with each other. It pissed Dean off, because he knew you guys liked each other.

Dean also knew neither one of you had the balls to admit your feelings. So he took matters into his own hands.

“Hey, y/n, you busy Saturday night?” Dean asked one night. “no?”

“Sammy, you sure as hell ain't busy” Dean joked, Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “yeah... I'm not”

“good, because I am... You two go out and have a good time” Dean told you both.

Yeah Dean asked you out on a date for Sam. Both of you had mixed reactions, you didn't know how to proses what what just happened and Sam was just annoyed Dean was getting up in his business. Dean didn't stop you guys from going out.

he is sweet and gentle when he kisses you. The kisses you and him share are always sweet and full of passion. He pours everything into his kisses when his lips are on yours.

He definitely said 'I love you.' he said it after he had to save you from a vampires nest he told you he couldn't lose you and he loves you.

Sam would be the one to encourage you to go on rants or nerd out about things your passionate about. He'll listen beginning to end. If your like: “sorry if I'm talking too much” Sam will say: “no, no, keep going. I'm listening”

Not being stuck in his Tuesday time loop, but helping the best you can.

Sam's Hugs are warm and tight. Since he's so much taller than you he usually picks you up and holds you to his chest as your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck holding him tight.

he promised to himself and you that if you were to get hurt by anything and he did mean anything at all, he would kill it. Even the smallest cut or bruse on you, he would freak out and with a gun in his hand, he would go after the very thing that dared to put a wound on you.

Sex with him has always been on the Adventurous side, but he learns your limits quickly and wouldn't do anything to hurt you. But when soulless Sam shows up there's no slowing down.

Even though Soulless Sam is hot one of the things he cares about most is sex and it might seem that's all he wants at the time, but the moment you get hurt the person or thing that hurt you is in a heaping pile of blood and broken bones.

Research dates all the time, you think it's boring as hell but your happy just to he able to spend time with him.

He's a health nut so he's always getting on to you and dean about your eating habits. “you know those things could kill you, right?” Sam asks as he watches you drink a monster energy drink, you'll just shrug him off.

You appreciate his concerns and you do back off on some stuff and let him cook you a healthy meal.

“what is that?” you asked staring at the blender in Discussed. “it's a smoothy, its good for you” he said pouring you a cup. “it's green goop”

✨Forehead kisses✨ he's a giant after all, so it's easier and convenient to just give you a little kiss on the forehead. He also loves it when your setting in his lap and giving him the same treatment.

Matching bracelets. Jack went through a friendship bracelet making phase and you made a couple with him. You and Sam both have one, he refuses to take it off. “you don't have to wear it”

“no, I'm gonna wear it forever. Back off”

You and Sam are literally Jack's parents, you probably end up adopting him at some point.

Never giving up on getting him out of hell, you hated the fact Dean when to live with Lisa. So while he got a girlfriend you were threatening crossroad demons for awnsers.

Making dirty jokes with Dean all the time to annoy Sam.

If Dean pranks Sam, you'll help get back at Dean. One time you convinced Sam to have sex in the impala just to piss Dean off.

Lucifer has the undying love for you and hits on you all the time, it pisses Sam off to no end.

Getting to see Sully first hand because he knew how much Sam ment to you and Sully just really wanted to meet the person that made Sam so happy.

Jody being a mother to you.

He absolutely loves feeling your fingers run through his hair. He'll kill to have his head on your cheat while you play with his hair after a rough hunt.

If your a smut book you get really secretive about and he'll notice quickly. “What you reading?” you blush and hold the book away from him. “nothing”

If he gets a hold of the book and reads a steamy part if the book, he'll probably want to try what he read too.

This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.

He wants to hold your hand all the time too, if your walking around the bunker or a town your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had while doing research.

Communication won't be a problem in your relationship. You both just find it so easy to talk to each other.

But if you get into a fight, your fight loud and mean. There will be the silent treatment.

He's a bed hog so get used to sleeping right on top of him or right up against him because there's no room for personal space when you share a bed, especially if it's a motel bed.

He also hogs blankets.

You have bad sex in the bunker library, do with that information as you will.

You steal his flannels all the time, they're just so big and comfy.

He's good at turning you on😏

NSFW headcanons:

Sammy has a size kink, he loves the fact you are shorter than him. It makes it easier for him to manhandle you and throw you around without even trying.

likes to pretty much fuck you stupid. like to the point your shaking, you only can think of his dick and babbling his name. you probably won't be walking the next morning.

he's ✨skilled✨ with his hands, those big massive hands. it doesn't matter what he's doing with them, in between your legs, your face, around your neck, in your hair, I don't matter he knows what he's doing.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

He didn't realize how much he actually liked it untill you started pulling on his hair while he was eating you out. “Damn... Do that again... Please”

Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.

But he also lives for the moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.

He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.

He well bend you over the table in the bunker library and take you from behind.

The desk will creak from the force he uses and his large body will presse you hard against the desk.

He loves hearing the moans and gasps coming out of your mouth.

Part of him will want you to be louder, even though he knew you aren't supposed to be sometimes.

He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.

Sam loves being dominate towards you. Choking you and edging you. “come on, Baby. Cum for me again”

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

“that’s it baby, there you go. takining me so well, honey.”

Sam loves the way his hands look on your body. Even better if you’re smaller than him, he just wants to be touching you all the fucking time.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.

Sam first thought after sex he's always checking on you, making sure it felt good and your not sore. He is very gentle, cleaning you up and giving you anything you need before even thinking of himself.