#just think about what mr darcy would say to it

[winterlico]

SEVEN DAYS WITH A DEMON — SJY

⋆.˚ pairing : demon!Jake x fem!reader | status : on going

Summary : You thought summoning a demon for seven days would be temporary. You were wrong.

⋆.˚ word count : 4.6k

Genre : Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Light Angst, Fluff

⋆.˚ warnings : 18+ joke (implicitly), harsh words, making out, LOTS of teasing (buckle up)

⋆.˚ a/n : English is not my first language and this is the first time i uploaded a fanfic, i'm sorry if there is still a lot missing words. If you want to be tagged, comment here!

❛ feedback & reblogs appreciated! ❜

Night Three: A Glimpse of Humanity

Too comfortable.

You don’t know when it happened exactly—when his presence stopped feeling like an intrusion and started feeling… inevitable. Like the hum of a fridge in the background or the creak of the old floorboard by the door. He’s just there now, sprawling on your couch like it’s a throne, flipping through your books as if he has all the time in the world—which, technically, he does.

He’s even stopped asking permission for things, not that he ever really asked to begin with. He raids your fridge despite claiming that human food has no effect on him. He changes the position of your lamps, just slightly, so they shine at angles that bother you. He has an infuriating habit of claiming your favorite seat whenever you stand up, smirking like he’s won something.

And the worst part? You’re starting to expect him.

Tonight, he’s stretched across your couch, golden eyes lazily tracking the words of a book he’s holding one-handed, his long fingers drumming absentmindedly against the spine. His jacket is slung over the armrest. His feet—bare feet, why is he barefoot?—are propped up on your coffee table like this is his home.

It isn’t.

But some part of you doesn’t tell him to leave. Instead, you sigh and plop onto the couch beside him, shifting until you can steal a glimpse of the book in his hands.

You blink. “Pride and Prejudice?”

Jake hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t look up. “Figured I’d see what the fuss was about.”

You snort. Of all the things you’d expect a demon to read, classic Regency romance isn’t one of them. “And?”

He turns a page, slow and deliberate. There’s something contemplative about the way he reads, like he’s sifting through the words for something deeper than what’s written. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than usual, thoughtful in a way that makes something in your chest tighten.

“Humans are… strange,” he murmurs. “So fragile, yet so full of stubborn pride. So desperate for love, even when they don’t admit it.”

For a moment, you don’t know how to respond. The way he says it—like an observation made over lifetimes, like something he’s learned the hard way—makes your heart stutter.

Then, as if sensing the weight of his own words, Jake shifts, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. His golden eyes flick to you, amusement gleaming beneath something unreadable. “Besides,” he adds, “I think I’d make an excellent Mr. Darcy.”

You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. “Please. You’re more of a Wickham.”

Jake gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, angel. Truly, deeply wounded.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. It’s too easy to laugh around him, even when you don’t mean to.

You don’t realize, until much later, that this is the first night you stop seeing him as just a demon.

By the time you step into the shower, the apartment is finally quiet.

For the first time in three nights, there’s no smug remarks, no stolen seats, no golden-eyed menace lurking in your periphery. Just you, warm water, and a few precious minutes of peace.

The water is scalding, just the way you like it, cascading down your back in steady rivulets. Steam thickens the air, curling against your skin, wrapping around your limbs like a second layer. You let it burn, washing away the tension in your shoulders, the way your entire body still feels restless from dinner—no, from him.

From the way Jake had watched you eat, slow and amused, golden eyes too sharp, lips curling around every bite like he was savoring something else entirely.

You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the edge of the shower wall.

It’s fine.

It’s just Jake.

He’s annoying, intrusive, a walking, talking migraine in leather—but he’s not anything else.

Right?

You exhale sharply and turn off the water. The pipes groan as the rush slows to a trickle, the room dense with humidity. You don’t even bother wiping the fog from the mirror—just reach blindly for your towel, already mentally preparing to crawl into bed and pretend tonight never happened.

But then—

You see it. Your heart stops.

The mirror is still fogged up, steam clinging to the surface, but in the haze—there’s something written.

And it’s not your handwriting. The letters are messy, traced lazily with a fingertip, as if the writer hadn’t really tried to be neat. And yet, despite the casual scrawl, the words hit you square in the chest:

Miss me, angel?

Your blood turns to ice. Your stomach drops. Your breath catches, hitches, stutters. Because you are a rational adult, because you are absolutely not losing your mind over this—

You scream.

Not a dignified noise. Not a startled gasp. No—this is a full-bodied, soul-leaving-your-corpse, horror-movie shriek that rattles the walls.

From somewhere in the apartment, you hear laughter.

Deep, rumbling, thoroughly entertained laughter.

“JAKE!” you shriek, whipping open the bathroom door so fast it slams against the wall, still dripping wet, still barely processing reality.

And there he is.

Leaning against the hallway wall, arms lazily crossed, expression radiating smug amusement.

He’s been waiting for this. Waiting for you to see it. Waiting for your reaction.

“You took forever, angel,” he muses, golden eyes gleaming. “I was about to get bored.”

Your entire soul catches fire.

Your skin is still damp, heat curling at your cheeks—not just from rage but from embarrassment, from the realization that you are standing there, dripping wet, wearing nothing but a thin towel barely clinging to your dignity.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric. Your brain is a storm of white noise and homicidal intent. And before you can think—before logic and self-preservation can kick in—

You hurl your towel at his face with force.

There is a glorious, fleeting second where Jake’s smirk disappears entirely. His head jerks slightly as the towel slaps against him with a solid, wet thud, covering his face.

For one perfect, golden moment, the demon is stunned into silence.

Then—

Jake makes the most dramatic, unholy gasp you have ever heard in your life. A deep, theatrical inhale, as if you had mortally wounded him, as if you had banished him straight back to hell with nothing but damp terrycloth. He staggers back, catching the towel as it slides off his face, gripping it to his chest like a tragic widow in a melodrama.

“Angel,” he gasps, voice drenched in mock betrayal. “Did you just—did you just assault me?”

You don’t care that you are now standing stark naked in front of an actual demon—all you care about is killing him on sight.

“YOU—YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE!” you bellow, grabbing the nearest object (a shampoo bottle) and launching it at his head.

Jake dodges effortlessly, laughter bubbling in his throat. “Tsk, tsk, angel. Violence isn’t the answer.”

You snatch another bottle. “GET OUT!”

He grins, golden eyes glinting, zero fear in his expression. “You know, I thought you’d be embarrassed, but you’re really embracing the natural look—”

“JAKE.”

Jake raises both hands in surrender, still very much not sorry, but at least having the decency to step back. “Alright, alright,” he drawls, still holding your towel hostage.

And then—

He winks.

Winks.

And vanishes down the hall.

You stand there, naked, wet, humiliated, and shaking with rage, your pulse thundering in your ears. You turn back to the mirror, to the fading message scrawled across the glass.

Miss me, angel?

Your face burns.

With a frustrated scream, you slam the bathroom door shut, vowing—vowing—that if you don’t kill him tonight, you will find a way to exorcise his smug ass tomorrow.

Later, when you finally calm down—after threatening his existence and contemplating banishing him back to hell—you find him lounging in the kitchen, watching you cook like nothing happened.

You glare at him, still fuming, but Jake just smirks, propping his chin on his hand. “What’s the point of all this?” he muses, nodding toward the pot. “Humans put so much effort into eating when it gives them no real power.”

You roll your eyes. “Because food is good, Jake.”

He scoffs. “Not to me.”

That gives you an idea. You turn to face him fully, crossing your arms. “Then let’s change that.”

Jake raises a brow. “Oh?”

“I wish for you to taste food,” you say. “Like a human.”

He stares at you for a long moment, unreadable. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he snaps his fingers. “Fine,” he mutters. “Let’s get this over with.”

You don’t even give him a warning before shoving a spoonful of your homemade dish into his mouth.

Jake freezes.

Then—

A low, deep groan escapes him.

You hate how your stomach flips.

He grips the counter like he’s holding onto reality itself. His tongue flicks against his lower lip just a little too suggestively, and when he looks up, his gaze is dark.

Your brain short-circuits.

Later that night, you’re still flustered when you head to your bedroom. You open the door—only to find Jake lying on your bed. On your bed. Casually sprawled, arms behind his head, looking at you like he belongs there.

You grip the doorknob. “Get. Out.”

Jake smirks. “Why? There’s enough space for two.”

Your entire soul leaves your body. “Jake—”

“Relax, angel.” He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “I’ll behave. Unless you don’t want me to.”

You slam the door so fast.

Through the wood, you hear him laughing.

But when you wake up hours later, something feels off.

The apartment is quiet. No sarcastic remarks. No unnecessary Jake-ness.

And then—

“Miss me already?”

You yelp.

Jake materializes beside you, grinning. “That was cute.”

You slap his arm. “Don’t do that!”

He chuckles, warm and low. “Aw, come on, angel. Admit it. You’d be lonely without me.”

You scoff. “Please.”

But you don’t push him away when he sits beside you and you don’t stop him when he lingers.

Bonus scene

Jake was not thinking about it.

Not. Thinking. About. It.

He was definitely not lying on your couch at 4 AM, staring at the ceiling like a man haunted by his own choices. He was not replaying the way the towel had hit him in the face, the way it had smacked him with the full, unholy force of divine retribution before landing at his feet, damp and utterly incriminating.

He was not thinking about the look on your face when it happened—the sheer, unfiltered rage, the way your eyes had burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, the way your chest had risen and fallen in sharp, angry breaths as if you were holding back the urge to commit murder.

And he was certainly not thinking about what had happened after. About the way you had stood there, naked, furious, completely unbothered by your own lack of clothing in the face of pure rage.

Jake let out a slow, exhausted breath, dragging a hand down his face.

No.

This was fine.

This was just a game. It was nothing.

He had been around for centuries. He had seen things that would drive mortals to madness, had walked through battlefields soaked in blood, had watched empires rise and crumble to dust, had stood at the edge of existence and gazed into the void itself.

And yet—

Yet.

A single mortal woman had managed to short-circuit his entire being with a damp towel and the audacity to stand there, unbothered, as if she hadn’t just ruined him forever.

Jake exhaled sharply, sitting up, elbows on his knees, fingers threading through his already mussed-up hair.

The apartment was quiet now, save for the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street below.

It was too quiet. Too still. He didn’t like it.

For the past three nights, he had gotten used to your presence. Used to the chaotic energy you radiated, used to the way you sighed dramatically whenever he took your seat, used to the playful banter, the teasing, the unspoken game of seeing who could get under the other’s skin first.

And now?

Now you were hiding. For the first time, you had chosen to retreat instead of fight.

Jake tapped his fingers against his knee, his jaw tightening.

He didn't like that, either.

One Hour After the Towel Incident

Jake found himself outside your door.

Not lurking.

Just… existing. Near the door. Casually. Like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to just be there at 5 AM, standing in the hallway with his arms crossed, frowning at the closed door like it had personally offended him.

Because really, it had. You hadn’t come out. Not even once.

And that?

That was unnacceptable.

Jake knocked once, slow and deliberate, letting the sound echo through the quiet apartment.

Silence. A long, pointed silence.

Jake tilted his head, smirking. "So," he drawled, voice low, smooth, dangerous in the way that always got a reaction from you.

Still nothing. He grinned. "Are we just going to ignore that you threw a towel at my face?"

The silence that followed was so profoundly aggressive that Jake could practically hear the way you were grinding your teeth on the other side.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. He leaned against the doorframe, lowering his voice just slightly, just enough to be infuriating. "You know, angel, if you wanted me naked too, you could’ve just asked."

The sound that came from inside your room was somewhere between a muffled shriek and a declaration of war.

Jake grinned.

Then—

Then he heard you aggressively burying yourself under your blankets.

He smirked. Oh, this was too easy.

"Goodnight, angel," he purred, voice filled with nothing but smug delight.

A pillow hit the door.

Jake laughed, low and satisfied, and pushed off the doorframe, retreating back into the living room, utterly pleased with himself.

But the moment he lay back down on the couch, his smirk faltered. Because now?

Now there was nothing else to distract him.

And that? That was a problem.

Three Hours After the Towel Incident

Jake had not moved. He was still on the couch, staring at the ceiling, his mind looping back to the same damn moment over and over again. He tried to rationalise it. Tried to tell himself that this was just his usual games, that he was amused, nothing more.

But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It didn’t explain why his brain kept replaying every little detail—

The way the light had caught on the water droplets running down your skin.

The way your lips had parted slightly when you had gasped in rage.

The way your cheeks had flushed, not from embarrassment, but from fury.

The way you had stood there, unshaken, completely unbothered by your own state of undress, because all you had cared about in that moment was absolutely wrecking his shit.

Jake let out a low, irritated groan, dragging both hands down his face.

No.

This was not happening. He needed to fix this. He needed to get back in control, regain the upper hand.

Because this?

This was not normal.

He was not supposed to be lying awake at 5 AM, thinking about the way your shoulders had tensed when you’d stepped into the doorway, or the way your collarbone had looked with droplets of water catching in the dim light.

Fuck.

He was not doing this.

Tomorrow, Jake would fix this. He would go back to being the one in control. He would prove to himself that this was just another game.

Just another human. Just another silly, fleeting moment that meant absolutely nothing.

Jake leaned back, arms crossed, scowling at the ceiling.

Because deep down—deep in the part of himself he refused to acknowledge—

He knew he was lying.

The Fourth Morning

Jake did not sleep. Not even a little.

Not that he needed sleep, exactly, but there was a difference between choosing not to sleep and lying awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying the same moment over and over again in his head like a damn cursed record.

This was the second one.

He had tried everything to shove the thoughts out of his head. Tried to focus on literally anything else. Tried to remind himself that this was just a game.

That you were just another human. That he was only here for his own entertainment, nothing more.

But the problem was—

The real, actual, devastating problem was—

Jake had always been a damn good liar.

And right now? He wasn’t buying his own bullshit. Because every time he tried to push the memory away, it clawed its way back.

The towel.

The look on your face.

The way you had just stood there, naked and furious, utterly unbothered.

And, most damning of all—

The way he had looked at you. The way he had felt something shift inside him, something that should have never, ever been there.

Jake ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly.

No.

No.

This was not happening.

7 AM – The Kitchen

By the time the sun started rising, Jake had abandoned all attempts at rational thought and decided that if he couldn’t stop thinking about it, he might as well pretend it never happened.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

All he had to do was act normal. Just play it cool. Just not think about how he had, against every ounce of logic in his body, spent the entire night awake because of you.

So, naturally, like a fully functioning and rational individual, Jake made himself comfortable in your kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping a fresh cup of coffee like he hadn’t just gone through an entire existential crisis in the past six hours.

Totally normal. Totally fine.

He’s totally not waiting for you to wake up. And then he heard it. The sound of your door opening.

Jake froze.

For the first time since last night, he realized he had no actual plan for what to do when he saw you.

Shit. He couldn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

Because there you were. Stepping into the kitchen, hair slightly tousled from sleep, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that barely grazed the tops of your thighs.

The absolute worst part?

You were still drowsy. Still half-asleep, still blinking the exhaustion from your eyes, shoulders slumping slightly as you padded toward the fridge, completely unaware that Jake was standing right there, watching you.

Jake gripped his coffee cup like it was his last lifeline.

No.

No, no, no.

He was not doing this again. He was not getting caught off guard twice in less than twelve hours. He forced his gaze to the ceiling, then to the floor, then anywhere but directly at you, gripping the countertop so hard it nearly cracked under his fingers.

This is fine. This is fine.

Just say something. Just act normal.

Just—

"Morning, angel."

Fuck.

His voice came out lower than intended, rough around the edges, like he’d just woken up himself, which was absolutely not the case because he hadn’t slept a damn second.

You froze mid-step.

For a long, excruciating moment, you just stood there, one hand on the fridge door, staring at him like you had just remembered exactly what had happened last night.

Jake saw it all in real-time—

The split-second recognition. The way your entire body tensed. The way your grip on the fridge tightened ever so slightly. The slow, creeping flush that spread across your cheeks.

Oh.

Oh, this was interesting.

Jake felt a wicked smirk tug at his lips, leaning slightly against the counter, tilting his head as he watched your reaction unfold.

You were embarrassed.

After everything—after standing there, bare and unshaken, after throwing a towel at his face like a vengeful goddess, after screaming bloody murder through the apartment—

You were actually embarrassed now.

Fascinating and entirely unfair, because Jake was absolutely, definitely not thinking about how good you looked in that stupid oversized shirt.

You cleared your throat, eyes darting anywhere but at him, muttering a barely coherent, “Morning,” before grabbing a water bottle and immediately turning away like that would make him disappear.

Jake smirked. This was going to be fun.

"Sleep well?" he asked, taking a slow sip of coffee.

You visibly stiffened. A beat of silence. Then, voice tight, "Fine."

Jake raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? You sure? Because it seemed like you were up pretty late last night."

You nearly choked on your water.

Jake almost laughed.

You turned your head just enough to glare at him, lips pressing together into a thin line. "You talk too much," you grumbled.

And oh, he could work with that. Jake set his coffee down, stretching his arms in a way that was entirely unnecessary, voice dripping with casual smugness.

"Come on, angel," he said smoothly, "don't be shy. I mean, considering everything I saw last night—"

"I will throw this water bottle at your head."

Jake grinned.

There you were. And just like that, the tension cracked, dissolving into something sharp, playful, familiar. It was a game again.

The way it was supposed to be.

Jake chuckled, taking another slow sip of coffee, watching as you tried desperately to compose yourself, to pretend you weren’t still thinking about last night.

But he could tell.

Oh, he could tell.

And maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t the only one losing his mind.

Jake knew he was playing a dangerous game.

Knew it from the moment you walked into the kitchen, all sleep-tousled hair and half-lidded eyes, wearing an oversized shirt that shouldn’t be doing as much damage as it was.

Knew it from the way his body reacted before his brain could catch up, every muscle tensing like he was bracing for impact.

And impact it was.

Because despite his best efforts—despite the hours he’d spent convincing himself that last night meant nothing, that the image of you standing in that doorway, bare and furious, was already fading from his mind—

It wasn’t.

It was burned into him now.

And judging by the way you refused to look directly at him, the way your hands gripped the water bottle like it was your last lifeline, the way your shoulders were tense, like you were forcing yourself to act normal—

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering.

Interesting.

And, perhaps, a little dangerous. Because if you were feeling it too, if you were struggling just as much as he was—

Then this was no longer a game he was in control of.

And he should stop.

He should dial it back.

He should let it go.

He should—

"Considering everything I saw last night—"

Oh.

Oh, he was a fucking idiot.

Because the second those words left his mouth, the second you whipped your head around to glare at him, face heating, grip tightening on the water bottle like you were actually considering launching it at his skull—

Jake felt something sharp and electric pulse through him, something hot, something dangerous, something that felt a little too much like desire.

Shit.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just stood there, glaring, breathing just a little too fast, as if you were trying to decide whether murder was worth the consequences.

That was fun and dangerous. He liked you like this.

Angry. Flustered. Teetering on the edge of something you didn’t want to acknowledge. And maybe—just maybe—he wanted to push you over it.

You exhaled sharply, slamming the water bottle down on the counter before turning fully toward him, arms crossed, jaw tight.

"You," you said, voice slow, dangerous, "are an absolute menace."

Jake grinned.

"That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, angel."

Your eyes narrowed.

Jake tilted his head, studying you.

You were trying so hard to act normal. Trying to pretend that last night hadn’t shaken you. Trying to convince yourself that this was still just an annoying little game.

But he could see through it.

He could see the way your weight shifted slightly, the way you kept your arms crossed like a shield, the way your breathing had changed—

You were flustered, not just in an annoyed way.

Oh.

Oh, this was something else.

Something new. Something infinitely more dangerous.

Jake’s smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second—so fast he almost didn’t catch it himself. Because if this wasn’t just a game anymore—

If you were actually looking at him differently now—

Fuck.

He should stop.

He should walk away. He should say something sarcastic and move on and pretend none of this was happening.

But then, you did something you shouldn’t have done.

Something reckless.

You took a step closer. Just one step.

Barefoot, arms still crossed, face still defiantly unreadable—

But closer.

And Jake?

Jake forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t even that close. Not really. There was still space.

But for some reason, it felt like too much.

Like if he reached out, he could touch you.

Like if he leaned forward, his breath would mingle with yours.

Like if he let himself, just for a second—

No.

Absolutely not.

This was dangerous.

"You’re staring."

Jake blinked.

You were watching him now, closely. And oh, that was bad. Because you had never looked at him like this before.

Not with frustration.

Not with exasperation.

Not with that unspoken question burning in the space between you.

Jake had been in too many situations like this not to recognize what was happening.

The tension.

The way the air felt thick, the way his chest felt tight, the way he could hear your breathing a little too well. It was the kind of moment that only ever ended one way.

Jake was not going to let that happen.

Not today. Not when he had already let it go too far. So instead, he did what he always did when he was on the edge of something irreversible.

He broke it.

Jake let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back against the counter with a mock-disappointed shake of his head.

"You know, angel," he said, voice lazy, cocky, unbothered— "if you wanted to get close to me, you could’ve just said so."

And just like that—

The spell was shattered. You rolled your eyes so hard it looked painful. Jake smirked, relief and something unnameable settling in his chest.

This was better.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you grabbed your water bottle. "I hate you."

Jake grinned. "You love me."

And just as you turned to leave, just as the air began to settle, just as he thought he had gotten away with it—

You hesitated. Paused. Didn’t turn around.

But your voice—when you finally spoke—

Was quiet.

"Not everything’s a joke, Jake."

And then you were gone.

Jake stood there, staring at the space where you had been, coffee cup still in his hand, something cold settling in his chest.

Because for the first time since this started—

He wasn’t sure which one of you was playing the game anymore.

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[snoweylily]

the amount of times i use the phrase "that's tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" on a daily basis for simple things like bread and t-shirts is truly frightening

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Chapter 7

Summary: You struggle to relax as you recover from an injury.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

This chapter contains some badly written smut

Wanda is enjoying this far more than you. Having you home 24/7 seems like a luxury that won’t last long and she’s relishing every second of it.

You, on the other hand, are acting like a caged lion, restless and always looking for ways to pass time, though options are limited with your healing shoulder and bruised body.

This morning, you opted for a stroll while Wanda worked on some sketches. The woman has to do a double take when she’s on a coffee break, because it’s been 40 minutes since you left. And there’s only so much walking a person can do in this neighbourhood.

The answer lies a few houses down the block. Wanda’s walking and looking for you when she spots you in the porch of Agatha’s home. Mrs. Hart and Dottie are there as well, cups of tea and biscuits in a table.

You’re taking Mrs. Hart blood pressure, while she keeps talking about her latest medical appointment.

“Sweetheart” Wanda calls for you. “I need your help in the kitchen”

“Oh, Wanda, I’m so sorry. Y/N here was just walking by and we got talking. She’s so brave for saving that man’s life” Agatha places her hand in your bicep, slightly hoping it annoys Wanda.

“Yes, she is. But now she needs to rest”

“Ladies” you greet, standing up and sighing as you go down the steps. “Sorry” you mutter to Wanda.

“No need to apologize” she stands on her toes to peck your lips. You smile, taking her hand as you both walk back home.

“Next time you’re around I’ll need a physical exam, Doc” Agatha calls and Wanda is about to turn and tell her off when you pull her.

“Nu-uh. Let’s go” you say, sincerely afraid of Harkness.

Wanda remains silent for the rest of the walk and you think she might be upset. That is, until you close the door behind you and are abruptly pushed against it, Wanda’s hand pulling down on your shirt possesively.

“Do I need to tie you up?”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“That’s not what I meant”

“But, baby…”

“You’re still recovering” she warns, but you can tell she is considering it.

“My mouth is fine”  you whine as her lips approach yours. “Please, I have all this pent up energy, and I need some release”

“Is that what you need? Release?”

“Mhm” you nod, your nose bumping against hers.

“Fine” she finally kisses you, and it turns frantic. Wanda starts leading you upstairs, but you shake your head no, going for the couch instead. With the hand that isn’t in the arm sling, you tug at her yoga pants and she slips them down her beautiful legs, panties following suit.

“Come on, here’s your seat” you say, laying down on the couch. Wanda lowers herself, and almost screams when she feels your tongue working quickly around her bundle of nerves.

Without thinking, you suck harder and let your teeth graze her clit, but the feeling of pleasure is so unexpected that Wanda’s legs close around your neck, her knee digging in your bad shoulder.

“Ow, time out” you plead, pain shooting down your arm.

“I’m sorry, I…” Wanda pushes the hair out of her face, looking at you worriedly. “Are you ok? Should we go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. No need to go and ruin Darcy’s day with the details of our sexcapades, my love”

“You sure?”

“Yes, come here” you ask, and she hesitates, until you pull her down to lie next to you on her couch. Realising she’s naked from the waist down, your hand travels to her ass, looking to squeeze the soft flesh.

“Stop” she warns with her mom voice. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. I thought I broke your neck a second ago”

“What a way to go” you joke, smiling as Wanda laughs against you.

—

Billy writes down in his notebook and you squint your eyes. Fractions are horrible, and how you wish you were helping Tommy with his art project instead.

So, you check the exercise again and sigh.

“I think that’s right, kiddo”

“You sure?”

How bad would it be to say “not at all”? You figure it wouldn’t be wise considering you’re the adult in the room, so you rub your eyes instead.

“I’ll check again after dinner, ok?” you promise, Wanda telling them to go wash their hands.

Going down the stairs, you find your girlfriend in the kitchen. She’s made an effort to cook anything you’re craving, and tonight’s feast is roast beef with potatoes.

“Delicious” you comment, pulling her so she’s pressing against your front.

“Thank you, I think you’ll like it”

“Wasn’t talking about the food” you pull her hair to the side, clearing the path to litter her neck with open mouthed kisses. “I’m not giving up on this even after what happened earlier”

“You mean how I almost broke your neck?”

“Almost being the key word, baby”

The protest dies in her lips as the kids join you in the kitchen. They set the table for the four of you, doing everything they can to keep you from hurting yourself.

Even as Wanda insists on slicing your portion, you drop the armsling, because you’re very picky about the way you cut your meat.

“Childish” she mutters under her breath and you glare, but smile the same.

Dinner is the usual stuff about classes, the upcoming school trip and how Billy thinks you’re so good with fractions.

They’re in the process of getting ready for bed when you Google the answers to the math exercises, and you’re only wrong twice.

Oh, well.

Once the kids are tucked in, you go back downstairs to clean up, Wanda following suit.

“Please let me”

“Come on, I gotta do something around the house”

“You already helped with Billy’s homework”

“Oh, that. I can’t wait for them to start doing square roots so I’m banging my head against the table”

Wanda laughs at that, settling on the countertop as you wash dishes.

“Yeah, I guess you missed the time where homework was easy. Like coloring, or learning vowels”

“Sounds better than fractions” you recognise.

“Don’t be long” Wanda asks, kissing your cheek and going upstairs.

Your shoulders drop a little, and you eye the armsling, but you’re tired of it and feel like it does more harm than good. Leaving it downstairs, you walk up to find your girlfriend preparing a bath.

“Might help relax” she says, and truthfully, you do feel a lot better when she’s taking off your clothes, hands delicately going over your skin. As she walks behind you to place a small kiss in your shoulder blade, her hands stops in a spot you’re always trying to hide.

“What happened to you?”

“Car accident” you say, not in the mood to delve deeper. Turning in her embrace, you unbutton her shirt, kissing down the valley of her breasts. Next are her pants, and you look up with a smile, helping her step out of them.

You sit in the bathtub, letting Wanda rest between your legs. Your hand goes up and down her arm, but your mind is elsewhere.

Especifically, in the pain that hasn’t stopped.

What if it’s something serious? What if you need surgery? And can’t do your job ever again?

It’s all you have, it’s who you are. You don’t know yourself outside of an OR, outside of grueling shifts and hospital walls.

“Can I ask you something?” Wanda interrupts your spiraling thoughts.

“I do think you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet” you say, kissing the spot between her neck and shoulder.

“No, it’s… uh” she hesitates, looking at her hands. “Did you ever think about having children of your own?”

“Oh” you say, frowning. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess all I ever figured out was what I wanted to be, you know? And it’s so demanding that I never thought I’d be a good mother”

“I just… talking about those early years. I love my kids but I don’t know if I’d do it again, start over with a new baby”

“I’m not holding my breath for that, sweetheart” you promise, kissing her temple. “And I’m a workaholic so it wouldn’t be fair to put you through it so you’re alone for a big part of the time”

“Are you sure? If it’s something you want, I can…” she turns around in your embrace, the water splasing a little. “I can try, maybe it’ll be nice”

“I love the way things are” you promise her, looking distractedly at her breasts. “Especially right now. Can you sit closer so I can pay attention to those two?”

“You’re incorrigible” she laughs, her hands going around your neck.

“And yet, you love it”

—

It was hard to sleep with the shooting pain down your arm, but you refused to take anything for it.

By the time you got some rest it was almost 4 AM, so you completely missed breakfast and driving the kids to school.

Probably for the best, since you’re in a foul mood.

“Hey, I have a meeting with Laura. Wanna come with?” Wanda says when you walk downstairs, changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

“Can you drop me off at the hospital?”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s driving you insane but you can’t go to work right now”

“It’s not… that” you say, struggling with your words. You’re so used to solving everything on your own, it’s hard to share that you have any discomfort.

When you were younger, it added to your mother’s stress because she had other things to deal with, so it only made everything worse at home.

“Are you ok?” Wanda asks softly, finally noticing the bags under your eyes.

“I’m just in pain and would like to check everything’s fine”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We should have gone to the hospital as soon as…”

“Wands” you say, overwhelmed at how much she cares. You pull her close, kissing her softly, and she melts against your lips. “It’s nothing serious, promise”

“Ok. Let’s get going, then”

She insists on going with you, but the meeting with Laura is happening, so you just convince her to pick you up as soon as it’s over.

Greeting the people at the front desk, you walk to the staff area, looking for any familiar faces. It’s empty, so the next place is the ER. The sound and rustling make you nostalgic, and there’s gotta be something really wrong with you, because it’s been five days only.

“Can I help you?” Darcy says behind you.

“Looking for a leprechaun”

“I have not missed you” she remarks, and you wanna say something back, but then you notice your ER board.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to my board?”

“It’s color coded!”

“This is an ER! Not arts and crafts, Lewis” you say, feeling like your heart is breaking at the sight.

“Fury likes it”

“Fury can go to… oh, hello, sir” you say, and he glares at you.

“You’re supposed to be resting”

“I have some pain… wanted to check with Carol if everything’s ok”

“Danvers is in the middle of surgery. Will be an hour or so before she’s free” he explains. “How bad is it?”

“A four, maybe” you lie, and he still looks concerned, because in all the years you’ve worked here, you never get sick or complain if you have anything bothering you.

“Get a CT, I’ll go tell her you’re here” he instructs, patting your good shoulder.

Darcy walks with you to get the CT, and once you’re done you both go to the cafeteria.

“Hey, you didn’t bring any cookies” Darcy complains as you pick up a muffin.

“Wasn’t planning on stopping by”

“How’s domestic life? You ready to retire?”

“It’s fine” you say with a smile, but as always, she can see through the bullshit.

“You look miserable. So, you’re either in a lot of pain or there’s something else”

“I just… feel bad that I don’t know how to rest. You know? I’m a workaholic, and Wanda knows it, but it used to be nice to get breaks and spend time with her and the kids. And now, I should just be relaxing and enjoying this time off but I’m so restless. And I wonder if I’m good for them. If I’ll enjoy going on holidays and spending a few days without work or I’ll promise to be there for something and then let work get in the way”

“Ok, first of all. Every surgeon is a workaholic, you know it. This was the only way we could survive and get as far as we did. But you’re acting as if you’re on an indefinite break. Your CT looks fine. In a week you’ll be back”

“Right. It was just so unexpected…”

“You’ve been working less, haven’t you? Spending more time with Wanda and her kids. That’s a major change. So don’t worry about still loving your job and wanting to do it. It’s who you are. And if Wanda loves you she’ll understand”

"Well, good thing she seems to be done having kids, too” you scratch your neck, thinking about last night’s conversation.

“I thought you wanted kids” your friend frowns.

“I never made up my mind… but if she says she’s done, it’s done”

“Interesting…” Darcy holds her chin, examining you. “I do remember you having baby fever when you did your Peeds rounds”

“Ages ago” you insist, smiling. You were good and you almost decided to focus in that area. But Trauma was always where your passion was.

Darcy’s pager beeps and you look at her with some jealousy, wishing you had somewhere to be.

“Gotta go. Danvers should be done soon. Chill, watch some tv, you’ll be back in no time”

“Thanks, mate. And I know, I’ll ask Wanda for some cookies”

You look around the cafeteria, and then wander the hallways. There are a few people in the ER, sitting and waiting for someone to call their names. Without knowing a thing about Darcy’s system, you pick up a file and say a name out loud.

The little guilt you feel at working when you’re clearly not supposed to is quickly forgotten as you help several people, looking at their X-Rays and writing prescriptions, the armsling tossed away.

That is, until you hear someone calling you across the room.

“Y/N Y/L/N” Wanda hisses. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You squeal, hiding behind a curtain. She pulls it and grabs the file from your hands.

“Did Doctor Danvers see you yet?

“She was in surgery and I was bored!” you complain like a little child.

“We’re finding her and then going home”

Doing all but pulling you by the ear, Wanda drags you around the front desk and asks for Carol, the nurses hiding a smile as you remain in the background, silent.

They tell Wanda that Carol will be in a few minutes, and you wait in one of the examination rooms, you sitting in the bed dangling your feet while Wanda answers an email from Laura.

“How did the meeting go?” you try to make ammends.

“Fine”

“Mmm” you nod, thinking it might be better to drop it.

It only gets worse when Carol walks in, thinking you’re the only one in the room.

“How’s it going, Princess?”

Wanda clears her throat, glaring at the blonde and you want to crawl in a hole and die. Not this again.

“Hey, Wanda. Didn’t see you there” she starts speaking in a rush. “What’s the matter? CT looks fine. Except for that horrible surgery they did on you”

“It was twenty years ago, Danvers” you roll your eyes, avoiding Wanda’s inquisitive stare.

“Ok, take your shirt off. O-or not, don’t” she says when Wanda glares.

“Make up your damn mind” you complain, oblivious to everything.

Wanda stands up, looking you in the eye. She smiles, taking your shirt in her hands and pulling it up. Might as well fucked you right then and there, with the way she looks at you.

Maybe it’s not so bad that she’s jealous of Carol.

“There” she says, and all you can do is focus on her lips. She stands back, sitting on the couch and waiting for Carol to examine you.

“The pain has been recurring, right? What changed?”

“It’s more persistent and intense”

“Have you been taking painkillers? Anything else?”

“Nothing, Doc”

Carol sighs.

“We really are the worst patients” she grumbles. “You have nerve damage, we knew that already. The armsling might be making it worse. Use this instead”

She passes a brace that supports your shoulder and allows you to move freely.

“Wooho, this one is way cooler!”

“Wanda, can you make sure she takes these meds? It will help with the swelling” Carol turns to you. “If you rest properly, you can go back to work in ten days”

“Ten days? I want a second opinion”

“A second opinion would be to try surgery and fix that nerve” she says, knowing Stark would agree.

“Fine. Meds and rest” you grumble, putting on the brace.

“One last thing” Carol says and you’re about to ask what is it when she blind sides you, inyecting something on your muscle.

“That’s low even for you” you complain, feeling the burn.

“That will relax you for a few hours, pal”

“Mmm. Thanks, Carol”

“Anytime. Bye, Wanda”

Your girlfriend thanks her, taking your hand and walking you to the exit, hoping you’ll finally get some rest.

“Who did this?” Darcy fumes from the ER and you rush, dragging Wanda.

“Run, now”

For the second time in the day, someone calls you by your full name, this time sounding less forgiving.

“You messed up the system!” Darcy says, watching you run like a coward. “You’re dead to me”

Wanda laughs at that, and you smile, hoping her mood has improved ever since she caught you working.

“Want anything special for lunch?” Wanda asks as she drives back home and you can’t really think of anything.

“Cuddles and a nap with my beautiful girlfriend” you say, feeling the medicine relaxing you. “Damn it, Carol probably gave me a horse tranquilizer”

“That’s what you get for being so stubborn”

“I am not stubborn” you insist, proving her point.

By the time you’re home, your feet feel heavy. Wanda almost has to carry you to the bedroom, where you plop down.

You feel her taking off your shoes and you honestly try to sit up and help, but Carol really outdid herself with whatever it is she gave you.

Lucky she’s a doctor and not a dealer.

“Wands” you mutter.

“Shh, I’m here. Get some rest”

—

Your mouth feels dry, limbs heavy. Like a hangover, but without the fun part.

“M’gonna kill Carol” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. Wanda’s laugh by your side makes you turn and you smile. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Feeling relaxed?”

“Very. I’m just thirsty”

As if she was a mind reader, Wanda nods towards the nighstand next to your side of the bed, where a glass of water is waiting for you.

“You’re so perfect” you say once you gulp it down, breathing and stretching. “Where are the kids?”

“Soccer practice.”

“Oh, sorry about falling asleep. We could have been watching a movie or something” you try to sit up, but Wanda pulls you down, scooting closer to you.

“I just want you to rest”

“I’m not gonna break if I do other stuff”

She doesn’t answer and you lie down, looking at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry” is all she says and you frown. “For everything that happened with Steve”

“You already apologized. It’s in the past”

“I just want to give you everything, and take care of you. I wish I knew how to make you feel better when you’re in pain”

“You’ve been cooking and helping me do everything for the past week, love”

“Anyone could do that”

“No, you’re the only person who could make it all better by just being here” you say, your hand moving the hair out of her eyes. “I’m damn lucky to have you on my side, Wands”

“I… can I ask about the accident? I feel like I know bits and pieces. Though if it’s too painful”

“I was with my Dad” you say, sighing. “Someone else ran a red light and crashed into us. He didn’t make it. It’s just… there’s no point in dwelling on it. It happened, and no amount of grieving can change it. So I don’t”

“Ok”

“I’m not the best person to be with” you admit. “I’m very much addicted to my job, I don’t have a family that is worth talking about. It’s just me, and whatever happens that day in the ER. Maybe that’s why I struggle with being away from the job. There’s nothing else besides that”

“It’s not just you, not anymore. You have us” Wanda promises, kissing your hand. You smile, nodding.

“I know. I love you”

“Love you too.”

—

You finally found some things to do. Wanda would give you drafts to read, surprised at how good your literary insights were.

“Laura might have competition” she joked once.

As for other forms of entertainment, you were currently picking up on your Project Runway obsession even though you were just rewatching season 8, arguably one of the most dramatic ones.

The arm was a lot better and the pain subsided, which was great news. On the other hand, Carol would never shut up about being the best Ortho surgeon in the whole country.

Still, there was one thing you were hoping to do, taking advantage of all the hours you had alone with Wanda.

Thinking it would be better to just catch her off guard, you were in bed, reading another one of her drafts when she came by the room, stretchig her back.

“Tired, my love?” you say with a sympathetic smile.

“A tiny bit. I was thinking we could get pizza tonight? I’m not in the mood for cooking”

“I’m paying for it”

“You’re paying for groceries and everything else these days” she protests.

“What can I tell you? I like to spoil my girl”

Wanda blushes at that, straddling your lap and leanig down to kiss you. You smile, eager to feel her lips on yours, but also, anticipating her reaction as she feels what’s hidden in your pants.

The way she gasps against your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.

“What are you…?”

Your good arm wraps around her waist, making her rub against the strap on.

“A surprise for you” you say, your nose against her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses. “Unless you don’t want to try it. We can just forget about it”

“No, I- but your arm”

“Well, you could be a good girl and ride my dick” you half joke, not expecting the words to have such an impact on her. Before you can react, she’s reaching down between your bodies.

“I wanna see you” she asks, out of breath. You let her pull your pants down, revealing the harness briefs you’re wearing and the plastic cock attached to them.

“What do you think?” you say, one of your thumbs traveling to her mouth, and she eagerly accepts the intrusion, sucking on your finger. She bites it as you pull out, pupils dilated.

Operating on her desires, Wanda moves down your body, until she’s eye level with the strap. Even though you can’t feel it, the sight of her tongue darting out to lick the tip makes your hips buck, pushing inside without a warning.

But she’s a good girl, and takes it all with enthusiasm, her hands on your hips as you fuck her mouth. The friction against your clit makes your breath quicken, and aware that Wanda’s gagging, you stop moving, pulling her away by the hair.

“Show me how good you can take it, baby” you say, smiling. Wanda doesn’t waste any time, discarding her own pants and placing both hands on the side of your face.

You move your hips up a couple of times, teasing her entrance, until you pull her hips down, and you have to look down, admiring the way her hole swallows every inch, Wanda’s face contorted by pleasure.

Once you bottom out, you give her a few seconds to adjust, and only move when she rocks forward, moaning at the way it feels to be so full.

“Look at you, made to take my cock. Fits so fucking perfectly inside that tight cunt” you taunt, squeezing her neck.

Wanda clenches as you choke her, overwhelmed by all the pleasure she’s feeling.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my dick” you challenge, and she begins moving, slow at first, and then faster, her hips finding a rhytm as you let go of her neck, hand going down to pinch her nipples.

The touch catches her off guard, and she somehow changes positions in your lap, the strap going deeper and hitting just the right spot.

“Oh, God…” she mutters, losing herself in the feeling of being full, riding you as your hands roam around every inch of her beautiful body. “I’m close, please”

“Please, what?”

“Please, make me come” she stutters, her hips moving erratically as she approaches her climax. You let your hand travel down, and as you play with Wanda’s clit, the woman lets out a moan, juices spilling down her legs and between your bodies.

Wanda collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You wait until she calms down to pull out, trying to do it without hurting her.

“Stay inside” she pleads, and the desperation in her words makes you want to fuck her again.

“You did so good, baby” you smile against her temple. “Just relax, I got you”

—-

You had created a horny, hot, insatiable being.

Whenever you were alone in the house, you were usually packing because Wanda would just barge into the room, kiss you like she was running out of time, and then would just push her underwear aside, moaning and panting until she was satisfied. She went at it two or three times each day, even at night though you had to be quiet to not wake up the twins.

How you loved being used for her pleasure, and watch as she was all disheveled when she came, breathing against your neck and repeating how much she loved you and how much she needed you.

Once, you are almost caught by Agatha. This time, you initiate it, approaching Wanda as she makes lunch in the kitchen. Your arm snakes around her middle, hand going up and down until you pinch her nipple through the fabric of her t-shirt. When Wanda arches her back, her ass rubs against the strap, and she moans, allowing you to take her from behind.

“Look at you, taking me so fucking well” you say, spanking her. She moans against her arm, enjoying the new angle and the way your hands grab handfuls of her ass, the soft flesh turning red.

 In that precise moment, there’s a knock at the door. You turn at the same time, and while Wanda seems to be trying to gather her thoughts, you keep pushing inside of her.

“Wanda, are you home?” Agatha says.

“Go on, answer her. Tell her you’re getting fucked from behind, baby” you taunt, determined to make her come.

“If she sees us…”

“Better hurry then” you mutter, hips moving faster until you feel Wanda’s legs shake, hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

You pull out, and force Wanda on her knees. She can’t stand up, as Agatha looks through the window, waving at you. The lower half of your body is hidden by the countertop.

“Do you have any eggs I can borrow?”

“We’re out of those” you lie, moving your hips forward until Wanda gets the hint and licks the strap clean. “I’m going to the store later today, I’ll get some extra for you”

“You’re such a dear. Is Wanda working?”

“Oh, yes. She’s hard at work” you say, smiling.

“If you ever feel lonely, come by and visit me, dear” the woman winks, turning to leave. You keep Wanda in place, fucking her mouth until the pressure on your clit makes you get some release.

“I’m not done with you” you say, pulling her up. “It’s a damn shame you couldn’t be as loud as you wanted before”

Wanda looks confused, or maybe it’s the orgasm she just had. Either way, you guide her upstairs, and she quickly gets on all fours, ass up in the air again.

“Better be screaming my name when I’m done with you”

Of course she did. And you’re pretty sure those screams could be heard all the way to Agatha’s house.

—

“I’m gonna be late for work” you say, not really caring. Wanda’s on your lap, grinding against you. There’s nothing under your scrubs today, because, well, it would be awkward to work while packing all day.

Who knew you’d end up wanting more free time, and all because Wanda can’t go five minutes without getting fucked.

“I’m gonna miss you” she whines, biting down on your earlobe and you moan.

“Baby, you’re not playing fair”

Maybe calling in sick won’t be such a bad idea. Your colleagues will understand. It’s not like they’ve been covering for you for two weeks.

Right.

“I have to go” you sigh against her lips, searching her eyes. You hope she can understand.

“I know, I’m sorry”

Wanda smiles and the way she runs her hands down your cheeks melts your heart.

“I love you. Thank you for helping me heal these past weeks. And I’m sorry for being so difficult at times, my love. I’ll make it up to you”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning her forehead against yours.

With that, you get ready to drive to the hospital. You’re still wearing the brace Carol gave you, more as a precaution. Wanda also gives you a whole batch of cookies and you suspect Darcy will steal most of it.

You say goodbye at the front door, promising to call her when you have time.

“Welcome back, doctor Y/L/N”

Kate Bishop is the first to greet you, waiting in the ER.

“Thank you, Kate. Did I miss anything big these past few days?”

While you go over some files, she makes the rounds on patients that have been here for the past days and are getting discharged soon.

You go back to the ER to review paperwork and she sticks around, which seems weird.

“Shouldn’t you be around the halls to see if you can scrub in on something?”

“Uh…”

“Look, if they told you to babysit me, don’t worry about it. I can handle this alone”

“That’s not… remember how I hadn’t made up my mind about a specialty? Well, I did. I want to be a Trauma surgeon” she smiles, hoping you’re happy about it.

“Wow! Congrats, Bishop” you can’t help but bring her in for a hug. “Everyone else had their student, but me”

“Well, you have yours now. I can’t wait to learn, Sir. Ma’am. Doctor” Kate stumbles with her words and you pat her back.

That very second, two people walk in, screaming something about their Halloween decoration and a freak accident.

“Let the lessons begin, kid”

And so, you spend the better part of the shift stabilizing a patient and working with Stark to stop a brain bleeding from a falling pumpkin.

“It’s that time of year again” he says, and you sigh.

“What is?” Peter looks around the table.

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of freak accidents when holidays are around” Stark says. “Well, Dr. Y/L/N knows better than me, she’s the one treating everything”

“Cuts while carving pumpkins, blazing Jack-O-Lanterns, food allergies for kids”

“Tripping with their too long ghost costumes” Stark adds. “Learn that the hard way with Morgan”

“Gotta warn Wanda about that” you grimace.

“Ah, yes, the missus” Stark says, and you can’t see a lot of his face but you can tell by his tone that he is ready to tease you.

“Careful, Doctor Stark”

“I’m just saying, everyone thinks it’s cute. Morgan loves her and their art lessons too. Plus, it’s nice to see a doctor dating someone outside of the hospital. I’m so done with all the hook ups, it’s nearly impossible to find an on call room to rest”

“You own the hospital, can’t you do something about the rooms?”

“Not without causing a meltdown for HR” he says and you both chuckle.

“It is nice to be with someone who thinks you’re crazy for wanting to be working for two straight days. Gives you perspective”

“Precisely” Stark agrees. “Well, Peter can close him up”

“Meet you back at the ER, doctor Bishop”

You nod, going to the scrub room to wash your hands.

“Carol told me about your little nerve thing”

“Of course she did”

“There’s a great chance for the procedure to work, it’s also non invasive. Recovery time is…”

“I’ll think about it. But it hasn’t been bothering me anymore. Maybe it was just the shoulder injury”

“Yeah, maybe. But you know how it is. Wouldn’t you want to be completely sure you’ll be fine holding your baby one day?”

“Wanda is done having kids so that’s not a particular concern of mine” you say in an even tone.

“Really? With the way she looks at you, it almost seems like she wants you to knock her up”

“Tony” you elbow him, and he cackles.

“Just saying. Your kids would be cute”

“Are you having baby fever and trying to drag me with you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe” he winks as you leave the scrub room.

Still, the conversation leaves you thinking about Wanda and as soon as you’re out of the OR you call her.

“You’re on speaker, my love” she says, making you smile.

You can hear Billy and Tommy rushing to her side, speaking over each other.

“Woah, woah, one at a time”

“I got an A in my Science paper!”

“I scored a goal in practice”

“Way to go, kiddos. Can’t wait to hear all about it”

“We miss you” Tommy says, which makes you strangely emotional.

You never had someone say that to you.

“Miss you too” you admit.

“Go wash your hands, say bye to Y/N” Wanda waits a little and then talks to you again. “You’re still on speaker because I’m finishing dinner”

“No dirty talk, got it” you chuckle.

“How’s the day so far?”

“Oh, we had a freak accident with Halloween decoration which reminds me, don’t put anything until I’m there to help?”

“Ok, I won’t” she agrees.

“And Kate, you remember her? She’s a resident and today she told me she wants to be a Trauma surgeon so I guess I am officially her teacher”

“Congratulations, she got the best one”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot of responsibility, I guess” you chew on your lip, thinking about everything you’ll have to teach her. It’s not just the medical side, it’s about handling the stress and the pressure of helping people in the worst situations.

“I’m sure you’ll do great” Wanda says, knowing your sudden silence means you are overthinking. “Is the shoulder ok? Promise me you’ll eat something and get some rest”

Your pager interrupts the moment and Wanda groans.

“I’m afraid I can’t keep that promise, love of my life. Will talk to you later”

“Love you”

“Love you too”

Kate meets you in the ER and you’re suddenly dealing with a car accident and four patients, two of them children.

“Page Maria and Carol, this is gonna be a long night”

“And my shift is just starting” Darcy says behind you and you turn, excited to see your best friend.

“Missed me?”

“Not a bit”

But you know she’s full of it. You scrub in together, and she updates you on all the gossip you missed, using codenames no one else knows about.

“Did you hear Doctor Bishop is my new apprentice?” you say when you let her close the patient.

“Congrats, you finally got a minion”

“Wanna get one for you?”

“Ugh, no, you gotta water them twice a week and it’s too much trouble. I’m fine just being an attending” she rolls her eyes.

You’re about to go on a lecture about the importance of teaching and mentoring when Kate curses, and the patient begins to crash.

“Move” you say, stepping in to check what’s wrong.

“See?” Darcy says.

Though Kate didn’t do anything wrong, you ended up an hour more in the OR to make sure everything was ok.

When you’re done it’s close to dawn and you’re exhausted. Darcy finds an empty room and you plop down in one of the beds, sighing. It’s too early to call Wanda. You remove the brace to rest your shoulder.

“Do you think people ever considered we were hooking up?” you ask your friend, remembering the conversation with Stark. It’s just a funny thought, but Darcy let’s out a groan.

“Ugh, I hope not”

“Excuse me?” you sit up. “It sounds like you’re offended by the idea”

“You’re just not my type”

“So hot and successful is not your type?”

“You’re too tall!” she shouts.

“You’re too small!” you say, turning around so she only sees your back. “Garden gnome”

“Big foot” she whispers and you both laugh.

—

“Wanda, baby” you moan, kissing the… pillow?

Your pager wakes you up, and you look around the room, confused.

“I’m trying to sleep” Darcy complains.

“So was I” you say, checking your phone. It’s nothing related to the ER, so you go to the room where you’re called to.

“How can I help...” you walk into the room, and are surprised to see Wanda sitting in the bed. “Baby, hey! Wait, are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine” she says, appreciating your concern. Still, you check every inch of her body, hands holding her face gently. “I drove Agatha here”

“Why?” you frown.

“She cut herself while carving out a pumpkin”

“Halloween is always like this. I hate it” you mumble, and Wanda laughs.

“Don’t be such a party pooper. What’s wrong with dressing up and getting candy?”

“Trust me, spend a night in the ER with people who thought it would be a good idea to bring a real chainsaw to a party and you’ll agree with me”

“Well, I’ll have to change your mind about it” Wanda bites her lip, pulling you closer. “Maybe wear something real nice to cheer you up”

“I’m listening” you say, moaning against her mouth when she finally closes the distance. God, you forgot how good it feels to have her in your arms. “I should go check on Agatha”

“Your little student is taking care of her. Plus, I have a few symptoms of my own I’d like to ask about”

“Ok, what is it?”

“I have heart palpitations… and something like a flutter in my stomach. It’s hard to focus sometimes, too”

“When does this happen?” you play along, smiling as Wanda pulls you in between her legs.

“When I'm thinking about my girlfriend fucking me real hard”

“Babe” you sigh against her lips.

“Nu-uh. You’re working” she smiles, happy to see you so worked up.

“Mean”

Wanda laughs against your temple, her hands running up and down your arms.

“When does your shift end?”

“Tomorrow morning. Which would give me enough time to get ready for Laura’s party”

“You remembered” Wanda says, shocked.

“Well, yeah”

“I told you a month ago”

“And I wrote it down so I didn’t forget. You told me it was important for me to be there” you smile, unaware of the impact a little gesture like that could have in Wanda.

“I changed my mind, I need you to fuck me here”

You open and close your mouth a few times, looking at the door and then at Wanda. Yeah, you’d be crazy to let that chance slip.

Undoing the butto of her jeans, your hand moves as much as possible in the confined space, rubbing her clit through her underwear until Wanda is panting against your ear.

The woman finishes with a groan that you muffle with your lips, worried someone might come in.

Still, when you both leave the room, a bit disheveled and blushing, Stark glares and you wink.

“At least it’s not an on call room, Tony”

Wanda follows you to the ER, where Kate is finishing with Agatha’s stitches.

“Took your sweet time, Wanda” Agatha says, and you try to hide your smile.

“Sorry, that was my fault. But I’m here now and I’ll make sure everything is fine. Nice work, Doctor Bishop. Mrs. Harkness is a vital member of our community”

“Oh, darling, aren’t you a dear?” Agatha laughs, patting your arm. “Careful, Wanda, I might steal her from you”

You’re pretty sure Wanda’s response is not gonna be a nice one, but then you’re interrupted by the forensic that works at the morgue.

“Yo, Y/L/N. Can I get your name here?” Rio asks, her tone even and deadpan expression making her look bored, as usual.

“Sure, Death. There ya go”

Rio looks at Agatha for a second too long and then smiles to herself.

“I love to play with knives too” the brunette says, winking at your neighbour.

Wanda and you share a look, as if you’re wondering if Rio is the answer to all your problems.

“Who was that?” Agatha says, enthranced.

“Rio Vidal. We call her Death because she’s at the morgue, doing autopsies. Seems like she likes you”

“Could I… can you give her my phone number?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll go straight to the morgue and make sure she has it, Agatha” you promise.

Once Kate finishes with closing the wound, Agatha tells Wanda they better go, so you’re free to find Rio.

“See you in 24 hours, my beautiful girlfriend” you promise, kissing Wanda.

“Lovebirds, wrap it up. Vámonos”

“Ugh” Wanda rolls her eyes. Maybe she liked Agatha better when she pretended to be nice to you to upset her.

“Smile, darling. Let’s hope Rio keeps her busy for the next few weeks”

“Or centuries” Wanda jokes and you laugh, kissing her softly.

—

A 48 hour shift when you just got back to work was not your best idea. As you park in your driveway, you text Wanda to let her know you’ll shower and rest a bit before you leave at noon.

You almost fall asleep standing in the shower, but snap out of it and clean yourself up so you can get a nap.

Once you wake up, it’s a little before noon so you get some time to change into pants, a t-shirt and sneakers.

“Well, hello there” you admire Wanda’s figure in a sundress. “Am I underdressed?”

“It’s a barbecue, baby, you’re fine” she smiles, pulling you inside and cornering you against the door. “Missed you”

“Missed you too” you sigh against her lips.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?” Tommy says from upstairs and you laugh.

It takes the twins a couple more minutes to get ready, but once they go down and see you, they’re both buzzing with excitement.

The whole car ride is spent asking them questions about their day. As soon as you park, though, they are out the door, eager to greet Cooper and Lila.

You carry the pie Wanda made and put it on a table full of food.

“Wow, it’s kinda nice to live outside the city” you say admiring the entire property. Wanda had told you they lived in a farm, but you thought it was a figure of speech. “Maybe we need to get something like this, babe”

“Wanda, glad you could make it. You must be Y/N” a brunette approaches you, and you squeeze her hand.

“Nice you meet you, Laura”

“I hear you already know my husband”

“Yeah, we’ve had our share of work stuff” you nod, hand going to your shoulder.

As if on cue, Clint shows up holding a baby that is getting restless.

“Sweetheart, did you feed Nathaniel? Oh, hey Wanda. Y/N”

“I just fed him. Can you take care of him for a bit? I gotta make the mashed potatoes”

“Why don’t I…” you suggest when the baby starts crying. His eyes widen at the shift and then stares at you. Holding your breath, you expect him to begin hollering but he just laughs, curious about your hair. “There we go”

“Oh, wow. Wanda, you should have mentioned this sooner” Laura says, amazed at how Nathaniel seems to be so at ease with you.

“Come on, little prince. Let’s walk around the party for a bit. Say bye to Mom and Dad”

“I’ll catch you later, gotta help Laura for a bit” Wanda says, finding it hard to look away from you.

“Ok, darling” you say, balancing Nathaniel in your arms.

You walk around the Barton’s property, waving at the twins and their friends. Nathaniel bounces around in your arms, wanting to play with his siblings.

“What are you up to, kiddos?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek. Wanna join us?” Billy says.

“Gotta look out for Nathaniel, but enjoy”

Across the field, some of Clint’s friends are playing soccer. Nathaniel seems interested in the ball, so you stand on the edge and let him follow it with his eyes. At one point, one of the guys throws it your way by accident and you’re able to stop it with your foot, without dropping Nathaniel.

There’s a chorus of whistles and one of the man approaches.

“Hey, you must be the cutest babysitter I’ve seen”

“I’m a guest of Clint and Laura” you say, ignoring his advances. “And you are a hazard to babies. Goodbye”

Wanda is following your every move from the kitchen, and she’s reluctant to admit that the image of you holding a baby so confidently is doing things to her.

“There are kids present” Laura teases and she laughs.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Can’t say that I blame you. She looks good with a baby”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, we talked about it and she seemed to be indifferent to the idea. Or maybe it was because I tried to brush it off” Wanda sighs, cutting up more fruit. Truth is, she did wonder what it would be like, to have a partner that was with her every step of the way.

She loved her boys, but she had done everything on her own. Sometimes Pietro and her parents would help, but she didn’t have a spouse that would be her companion in every sense of the word.

“Well, I don’t think she’s completely convinced about it either” Laura points your way, and you’re making Nathaniel giggle with silly faces.

“Diaper change” you announce a moment later; walking to the living room. “I can do it”

“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart” Laura says, pointing at the diapers and wipes. Wanda takes a break from the cooking, to check if you need any help.

To her surprise, you’re changing the diaper expertly. In one swift motion, it’s all done and cleaned. Your girlfriend joins in, talking to Nathaniel while her hand runs up and down your back.

“We’re missing a player, wanna join us?” Clint calls from the door. Wanda takes Nathaniel from your arms, and you kiss her cheek.

When you walk to the field, the same man that spoke to you before approaches.

“Hey, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Sam Wilson” you arch an eyebrow, staying silent. “Come on, can I at least get your name?”

“I’m Y/N”

“Ok, Y/N. Why don’t we make it interesting? If I score a goal, I can ask you something about yourself”

“Well, what do I get if I score?” you say, smiling.

“Whatever you want, gorgeous”

You look around the field, spotting Lila playing with some nail polish.

“Lila gets to do your nails”

“Alright. Let’s go”

It’s funny, how Sam and his team think they have to go easy on you. It takes them two goals to catch up and realise they’re not letting you win.

You’re making them lose big time.

Throwing some turns and dribbles, you make Sam lose his footing, jumping over him to kick the ball one last time and score another goal.

“That’s three versus zero, Sam” you pat his back.

“One last shot” he says. You roll your eyes, too tired to argue with him. This time, you run around with the ball but do a simple kick that he can intercept.

“Yes. Goal!” he stops mid dance to turn to you. “My question is, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope” you answer, smiling as you can see Wanda approaching you. She walks past Sam, jumping into your arms and putting her legs around your waist. She kisses you, groaning against your mouth when you bite her bottom lip.

“She does, however, have a girlfriend” Wanda says, getting down. “Food’s ready”

“I’m starving” you say, letting Wanda pull you to the table, leaving Sam behind, confused and exhausted.

—

It was a wonderful party. There was plenty of food, playing and cleaning to do. In the end, the twins wanted to stay over to play with the Barton children.

Laura said it would be no trouble, and you voluntereed to pick them all up the next day to go to the movies or anything else.

“Had the best time today” you say, stretching in Wanda’s bed. She stays silent for a second and you sit up. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” she interrupts her beauty routine to turn and look at you. “Would it be a mistake to tell you that maybe, I still want to have another baby?”

“Am I that irresistible holding a toddler?” you wiggle your eyebrows and Wanda let’s out a laugh, relieved that you’re not freaked out by what she just said. You stand up, kneeling in front of her. “I think having a little baby girl that looks like you would be the best thing ever. I also know having a kid involves a lot of changes and planning. But I can’t think of anyone better to do it with”

“So… why don’t we just leave that door open?” Wanda says, looking at her lap where your hands are clasped together. “For now”

“Yes, my love” you nod, kissing the tip of her nose. You’re about to stand up when she pulls you down by your shirt, this time in a rougher kiss.

“I got us something” she says, breathing heavily.

“Oh?”

“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to”

“Now I really need to know what it is, Wanda” you say, the exhaustion of the past days leaving your body at the idea of having sex with your girlfriend.

“Get in bed and close your eyes”

You nod, excitedly waiting for her to reveal what she got. You hear her drawer open and close, and your heart beats faster.

“Ok” she says, and as you open your eyes you don’t notice anything different, until you look at her hand.

“Oh” you pick up the strap, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s a…”

“I know what it is” you say with a smile, checking that it is indeed hollow. Out of curiosity, you squeeze it and a stream of lube shoots out of the tip. “Shit. Sorry, love. I’ll last longer next time”

“You’re an idiot” she laughs, hiding her face in her hands.

“So, wanna try it?”

“I do, yeah… uh, it’s a fantasy of mine to feel you, as if, finishing inside. I mean, I know it’s just something different but… yeah” she turns red, looking between you and the strap.

“No need to feel ashamed, my darling. I like to be tied up, if you want us to share some kinks”

“That would be amazing” she says, a little out of breath. “But if we do all of that, I might not survive, so, just one thing at a time?”

“Of course” you smile, placing the strap on the nighstand. “Come here”

You let Wanda sit on your lap, and you begin to kiss her, taking your time and alternating between running your tongue down her lip and letting it explore the inside of her mouth.

“This toy is a bit bigger than what we’ve used before, so why don’t I… get you nice and ready, huh?” you whisper hotly, pulling her underwear to the side. Without waiting for an answer, you collect Wanda’s juices in your fingers, prodding at her entrance and stretching her. When you bring a finger to your mouth and suck, Wanda’s mouth opens, hypnotized by your movement. “Lie on your back and get that dress off. I wanna taste that pussy”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch with a smile as she discards the dress, waiting in her matching lace set.

“What a good girl” you purr, crawling until you’re close to her center. You kiss the inside of her thighs, and then pull down her panties, slick coating the fabric.

Wanda arches her back when she feels your mouth on her cunt, holding your head in place. You let her dig her nails in your scalp, moving against your face until you have her arousal on your chin and lips.

“Feeling ready to take my cock?” you say, standing up to take off your clothes. Wanda is so worked up that she barely listens to you, watching as you adjust the strap around your hips.

Before you can get back to bed, Wanda leans forward, licking the shaft.

“Fuck” you say, admiring how the cock disappears inside her mouth, and she looks so pleased licking it that you’re tempted to squeeze and have the lube run down her throat.

Maybe later, you decide when she breaks apart, gasping for air.

“I’m not waiting any longer to be buried inside you” you say, pushing her so she’s on her back again. “Ready?”

“Please, just fuck me already” she says, canting her hips up.

“So desperate. And all just so you can have my cum inside you, is that right?” you taunt, letting the tip in and watching for any sign of discomfort.

Wanda bites her lip and the way she looks at you makes your hips jerk, introducing more of the toy. The woman moans, her nails digging in your sides.

“That’s it” she sighs, while you move in and out, starting a slow and steady ryhtm. You lift her legs and put them over your shoulders, going deeper and hitting that perfect spot that makes her see stars.

“Harder, I want you to fuck me so hard”

“How hard, huh?” your hand goes to her neck and you squeeze. Wanda moans your name, enjoying the pressure. “Want me to come inside you?”

“Yes, please fill me up”

“So pretty when you beg” you mutter, pounding harder and letting the hand that was chocking her travel to her nipples. You pinch one and then the other, enjoying Wanda’s sensitivity.

As you change your angle, Wanda’s legs squeeze you, pulling you closer. You thrust harder, erratically, knowing you’re close and so is she.

“Wanna get you nice and full”

“Fuck, yes” Wanda cries out, biting the spot between your shoulder and neck. “I’m gonna…”

As soon as she says those words, your hand travels between your bodies, squeezing the strap on so it can shoot the load inside of her.

Wanda lets out a loud moan at the feeling, pulling you until you can’t hold yourself up, collapsing on top of her.

For a few minutes, all that can be heard is your heavy breathing. Once you come to your senses, you move to the side. While Wanda is still trying to recover, you look down, clenching at the mess between your bodies.

“Give me a second and we can…” Wanda says, coming back to her senses. You smile, kissing her softly.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”

Once her breathing evens out, she scoots closer, hiding in your arms.

“Was it good? We appreciate honest feedback here”

Wanda laughs, kissing your neck.

“It was so good I think I might be pregnant”

“Well” you say, rolling so Wanda’s on top now. “That will be one beautiful baby”

—

This has been the best night of your life. You’re usually quiet when having sex, because you never have the house to yourselves. After that, you cuddle and call it a night.

Not this night, though. You had been at it for a couple of hours when you got hungry, so now you’re having a midnight snack, Wanda wearing your shirt and you in the usual tank top.

“Food’s almost ready” Wanda says.

"While we wait, let's..." you trail off, playing some music.

I used to love like a lovesick puppy Loving on anyone who'd throw me a bone I didn't care if they weren't good for me 'Cause it was better than being alone

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks with a smile when you reach out for her hand.

“Can I have this dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer” she warns you, but you shrug your shoulders.

“You’re not wearing heels right now, so we’re safe. Come on, I’ll lead”

Without waiting for her reply, your hands go around her waist. Wanda puts her arms over your shoulders, letting you sway her to the music.

Now I've grown up to be a pretty cool person Loving myself and I know my worth I think I'm ready to find my person 'Cause I won't accept less than I deserve

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, I’m looking for a wife” you sing, making Wanda laugh.

“Is this you proposing?”

“What? Nu-uh. When I do it, it’s gonna be awesome. And unexpected. But mostly awesome”

“When you propose? You thought about it”

“I’m here for the long run, baby”

Wanda smiles, leaning against your chest, while you keep rocking gently to the music.

“I love you”

“Love you too, Wanda”

Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that No sweat 'cause I know you've got my back Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that, want a love like that

A/N: Song is Emergency Contact by Corook. Please listen to all her music.

Last year I told you all to listen to Chappell Roan and none of you did and LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW

[finelinevogue]

, happy endings

summary - everyone sees you as this weird and crazy ravenclaw. everyone except remus and sirius.

pairing : ravenclaw!reader x wolfstar

word count: +3k

tw: angst | nearly a happy ending | mentions of fight | self deprecation | sirius being sirius | she pronouns used

[part 1] [part 2]

You walked out of Flitwick’s office with your head low.

It caused you anxiety to know anyone could watch you exit your Head of House’s office, because everyone knew the only reason you’d be in there is because you were in trouble.

You accidentally bumped into people on your way out, though, making you stop short.

“I’m so sorry.” You said.

“Y/N? Hey, it’s only us.” Sirius said and you lifted your head to catch sight of him and Sirius before you.

You became anxious over Sirius coming to find you over a moment that you’d shared with Remus in Potions earlier. You knew that it had meant nothing to Remus, even if it had meant something to you. The way Sirius had looked at you afterwards though still made you uncomfortable thinking about.

“Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Just as Remus was about to say something, Professor Flitwick came out of his office.

“Ah. Just the two people I need to see.” Flitwick said, causing you to bolt before any other questions could get asked.

“But…” Sirius started, watching you leave without a goodbye.

“C’mon.” Remus tugged Sirius, not wanting to get into any more trouble if they somehow already were.

“If it’s any consolation, Mr Black, i’d like to talk to you both about Y/N.”

That caught Sirius’ attention and he was more engaged to enter Flitwick’s office then. Remus followed close behind.

Flitwick’s office was small but magical. Literally.

He had pieces of paper filing themselves away everywhere. There were books also putting themselves away on designated shelves.

“Take a seat boys.”

Flitwick went around the side of his desk and sat opposite where Sirius and Remus now sat.

Remus’ fingers started scratching at one another, because the anticipation of knowing what he’d done wrong and how he would be punished was too much. His only saving thoughts were that Sirius was beside him and you were the reason they were here, not him.

Sirius reached over to take Remus’ hand in his, interlocking their fingers to stop Remus from fidgeting.

“Are we in trouble, Professor?” Sirius asked, “‘Cause if we are, I can guarantee it was all me and nothing to do with Remus.”

Remus slightly smiled at how protective Sirius still was even after so long.

“I can assure you that neither one of you are in trouble. I just need to ask something of both of you.”

“Okay.” Sirius said skeptically.

“Darcy Gunther came to see me today, claiming that Y/N provoked Darcy’s cat and this explains the scratches down Miss L/N’s face. Now I have known Y/N since she started at this school and I don’t particularly think they would be so silly to do such a thing—.”

“They wouldn’t.” Sirius quickly chimed in, feeling Remus’ hand tense in Sirius’ due to the rage of hearing Darcy’s story.

“However.” Flitwick clearly didn’t enjoy being interrupted, “Miss L/N came in here and did not defend herself. I asked Y/N what was said to cause such a reaction from Darcy’s cat and all I got was a shrug in return. Miss Gunther explained that it was because Y/N was jealous that you two never give her the time of day? Again, I know Miss L/N and I don’t think this would be a concern of theirs.”

“Definitely.” Remus agreed.

“I don’t need to know what you two think about this. However, I am aware of Miss L/Ns lack of social circle and would like to ask if you two—.”

“Absolutely.”

“Yes, anything!”

Flitwick had to bite back a smile.

“— could make sure Y/N feels included.” He finished his sentence whilst the boys continued to nod. “Good.”

“So that’s it? No… getting into trouble?” Remus asked warily.

“Unless you have a direct link to what happened to Y/Ns face, Mr Lupin, you are free to go.”

“Wow. First time getting called into a teachers office and not getting told off!” Sirius laughed, as he and Remus stood to leave.

They both walked for the door, knowing they were about to burst out in conversation with each other once they’d left.

“Sirius?” Flitwick asked.

Sirius turned, whilst Remus had one hand on the door ready.

“Remember detention at Friday lunch.”

Sirius winked, “You got it.���

Remus rolled his eyes before they walked out the door.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were sat at your favourite spot in the library when Sirius and Remus approached you.

The book you were reading was a novel full of adventure, mystery and treasure. You loved reading. The escapism into a world entirely different to your own was second to none. It was freeing and most importantly safe.

“Hey.” Remus said as he approached you.

You were sat at a four person bench table, you in the middle of one bench and - now - Sirus and Remus clambering to sit on the opposite bench.

“Hey.” You smiled.

“What’re you reading?” Remus asked.

You showed him the title and he looked impressed.

They didn’t have any books or notes of their own, so they must’ve either come here to cause trouble or to genuinely just sit and talk with you.

Curious.

“Are you two okay?” You asked.

“Y/N, you got attacked by a cat and you’re asking whether we’re okay?” Sirius asked, staring at your wound with intent.

“Did Flitwick put you up to this? To interrogate the truth out of me?” You frowned.

You had hoped they’d come here to chat with you, but maybe they were here on business to cause trouble after all.

“No.” Remus said.

“Yes.” Sirius said.

You looked at them confused.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked Remus, flicking his finger on his forehead.

“What are you doing? Exposing us.”

“When have I ever been good at lying, Moony?”

“Uh… That time it turned out you’d been using my toothbrush for a whole term!”

“At least I was keeping my teeth clean!”

You stared at them with utter confusion.

You didn’t know what to feel. First they are here to spy on you and the truth? Then Remus lies to you about it? And now they are bickering over oral hygiene. If you didn’t insanely like them both, a normal person would have left by now.

“This is ridiculous. We’re talking about this later.” Remus muttered, annoyed with his boyfriend.

Sirius turned to you grinning and Remus tried his best to smile.

It took you all of three seconds to start chuckling to yourself. You could feel the corners of your eyes crease and the dimple on your face pop out to say hello.

Your giggles filled the space around you and you had to out a hand over your mouth in hopes of keeping them muffled.

“Ssh!” Some senior prefect glared at you.

“Oi! Don’t tell her to shush,” Sirius barked and then quietly muttered, “Prick.”

“No it’s okay. It’s a library, I should be quiet.” You stopped laughing, but not smiling.

“Not when you’re laughing like that, you shouldn’t.” Remus said.

His comment made you blush and you had to dip your head before Sirius could see.

You were worried if Sirius caught you being affected by Remus’ kindness - again - he would probably have to confront you, and you weren’t too excited for that.

There was just something about Sirius and Remus that made your heart feel right. Like they were a reminder that even through all the tough moments, there was still sunshine in the form of them.

Remus had his level-headed, introverted-ness, about him and Sirius was all hot-headed and cool. Both of them together just made sense.

You wished you had someone that would complete you into being made sense of.

It was hard though when, well for one no one in the school ever talked to you, and the only people who do speak to you are already in an established relationship.

“Y/N, are you single?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

Remus’ jaw dropped and looked at Sirius like he just killed his grandma.

Why was Sirius asking whether you were single when his boyfriend was sat next to him?

“What is this?” You nervously chuckled, “An interrogation over my love life?”

“Sirius…” Remus tried to stop him before he could start, but there was just no point.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Sirius asked.

“No.” You said quietly, embarrassed.

“Do you ever want to be?”

“Sirius!” Remus cursed.

“I-I don’t know what game you’re playing, Sirius, but it’s not funny. I get that I’m the joke of Ravenclaw and possibly even the school, but I’m not going to sit around and have you of all people embarrass me.” You spoke firmly, gathering your book in your hand.

“What do you mean ‘of all people’?” Sirius pushed.

“Sirius stop.” Remus gripped his boyfriends arm.

“W-we shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“What conversation, Y/N? I’m just talking.”

“You’re being a dick.” You muttered.

“A dick?”

“Yes. You know damn well that no one in this school likes me and it’s really cruel of you to make such a big deal of it.” Your eyes started to well with water.

“Y/N… That’s not…” Sirius started.

You stood up from your chair at the bench, “Look, I know what people say about me okay? I’d just rather not hear it from you today.”

And with that you were gone.

Sirius and Remus both watched you leave in a hurry, clearly not wanting to hang around for a single second longer than needed.

Remus whacked Sirius around the head with his hand.

“Ow- What the…?” Sirius whined.

Remus just glared at him.

“I screwed up.”

“Yeah, you screwed up.” Remus nodded in agreement. “What were you even trying to attempt?”

“Ask her on a date.”

“With who?”

“Us.” Sirius looked at Remus now like he’d not been present for the past five years.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause asking a girl who has never been in a relationship before on a date with, not one but, two guys is a great starting point.” Remus sarcastically answered.

“Ah…”

“Christ alive, how did you ever win me over?” Remus mumbled as he got up from the bench.

“Heyyy…” Sirius whined. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To fix your bloody mess.”

“Shall I….?”

“You stay here.” Remus ordered, hugging Sirius from behind with his arms dangling over his shoulders.

“And do what?”

“Read a book.”

“Read? A book?” Sirius pretended to gag.

“Love you.” Remus kissed Sirius’ cheek, before reluctantly unravelling himself from him.

“I love you, but you are causing me much pain by forcing me to read.” Sirius banged his head on the table, hoping his sat force would cause Remus to change his mind.

But no.

Remus was gone and Sirius would have to go and find a book.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were sitting on the floor of a dark corridor by yourself.

No one ever came down here because they were too scared of the Ravenclaw ghosts - that you had befriended over the years.

You wiped your tears from your cheeks a with your sweater as you heard footsteps approaching.

It was slightly sad, no definitely sad - the lame kind - to be sitting on the floor crying over two guys that you never thought would’ve given you the time of day, but here you were.

Remus and Sirius occupied too much of your brain space.

They made you happy, even if they didn’t know it.

You imagined what it would be like being happy with them.

Then, perhaps, you imagined a little too hard because the next thing you see is Remus walking down the corridor towards you.

You briefly catch him slip a piece of parchment into his back pocket, before wiping the rest of your tears away.

“Hi.” He nervously smiled.

You curled your knees up into your chest as your back pressed against the cold stone. Your eyes slowly watched Remus walk beside you, only to slink down against the wall and sit next to you.

“I don’t want to talk.” You said quietly, even though there was no one around to hear but him.

“That’s okay. If all you want to do is sit in this hallway in silence, then I’m happy to do it with you.”

Your heart swooned over his words.

You’d never had someone so insistent on being around you. A day ago, Remus and Sirius probably had never had you on their mind and yet today you had already seen them 3 times. 4 if you included this time with Remus.

Remus kept his word and remained silent next to you, until five minutes later your thoughts were too loud to keep them in your head.

“How did you know where to find me?” You asked.

“Oh, uh, I guessed.”

“Lucky guess.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I should apologise to Sirius?”

“What?” Remus laughed, “No absolutely not. He was being a dick and he knew it. I love him, but he has no boundaries.”

You chuckled at that, because you could only imagine.

You scooted closer to Remus, needing to feel a little extra warmth in this cold corridor. The stone floor wasn’t exactly ideal for sitting on, but it had grounded you when you felt like you were slipping away. Now that Remus was here you felt like you had another way - a better way - of grounding yourself.

Plus, for some reason, Remus was exhorting a lot of heat.

“I feel like I need to apologise to Sirius anyways.” You admitted.

“How come?” Remus didn’t make any jokes. He just gave you the space to talk.

“I… It’s.. Gosh I don’t know how to say any of this.”

You shook your head, burrowing it down to your knees as if not being able to see the world would mean you’d entirely removed yourself from the situation.

How on Earth were you supposed to explain to Remus that you needed to apologise to his boyfriend because he’s caught you ogling Remus one too many times now? How do you admit a crush like this? And then not just on one, but two people? At once?

It was insufferable being inside your head currently.

It was like a giant wave of guilt and shame constantly crashing its way down on you, weighing you down until you felt like you couldn’t breathe any more.

“I.. I think there’s something wrong with me.” You let the tears fall then, feeling safe enough next to Remus to cry.

“Y/N…”

Your head shot up from your knees, needing to get this out, “I have never been loved before, Remus. I know I’m the butt of the joke. That I’m deemed unworthy and a bit pathetic. I get it, I do. But it fucking sucks that people see me like this when I still have a heart underneath, just like anyone else. It’s full of love and joy and happiness, but sometimes I forget it’s all there because of how small people make me feel. I’ve never felt like I fit in. I don’t fit in. And I certainly wouldn’t fit into a relationship with the likes of you or Sirius. So I need to apologise to Sirius and I need to apologise to you for ever believing that I could worm myself into your relationship - like I’ve wanted to for the past sodding half my life.”

You felt out of breath as you finished speaking, letting your chest heave off the anger.

You felt lighter for letting it all out, but also terrified at the boy you adored staring blankly in front of you and what his answer would be.

The silence lasted for two seconds too long before you decided that you’ve ruined everything.

“I’m sorry Remus. God, I’m so so sorry.”

You made tracks to stand up, but Remus stood up with you just as quickly - ignoring the resulting cracks from his bones.

He made his quickly into the space between you both and cupped your cheeks carefully.

“No. No, stop that. Don’t be sorry, not for that.”

You pouted your lips and your eyes watered.

“I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart? You’ve not hurt anyone,” Remus delicately traced his finger down the cat-scratch wound on your face, “Except only yourself.”

“I-I’m so.. s-sorry.” You hiccuped, tears falling down your face. Remus raced to catch them all as if it was a game, urging them to stop falling.

“Sshh. You’re okay.”

“I’m ru-ining everything.” You tried to drop your head but Remus kept you facing him.

“Never. You’re not, I promise. You haven’t ruined anything. You’re too good to ruin anything. Too sweet.”

You started sobbing then and Remus let you drop your head against his chest. He cupped the back of your head protectively and wrapped the other around your back to keep you close to him. His body shook as yours did and he felt every bit of devastation that you did.

You hurting, hurt Remus just the same. Just as Remus knew Sirius also felt.

Sirius soon appeared down the corridor, almost running when he realised it was you that was shaking heavily in Remus’ arms.

“Moony, what happened? Who did this? I swear when I find out who—.��

“Sirius will you calm down. She’s not hurt - well, not physically.” Remus explained, trying to calm down his boyfriend whilst also consoling you.

After hearing Sirius’ voice you reluctantly pulled away from Remus’ embrace. You nervously looked over at Sirius, your eyes no doubt swollen and puffy and your hair frayed from all the nuzzling into Remus chest.

“Y/N…” Sirius said your name so softly you would have smiled had it not been for the heartbroken tone he used.

“I’m so sorry for interfering with you and your boyfriend.” You apologised to Sirius.

Your fingers started scratching at each other with nerves.

You expected Sirius to lash out and agree with you, but instead he looked devastated - not with you, but himself. There was a look of remorse and guilt on his face, one you knew all too well.

“Is that how you’ve felt? How i’ve made you feel?” He asked.

You didn’t answer because it was clear he already knew the answer and you didn’t feel cruel enough to say it out loud.

“Moony… I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything.” Sirius started to become upset now.

It only was moments before that you’d been upset over the same thing.

“Hey, listen to me. You’ve not ruined anything. You’re as perfect as you always are. But Y/N has something to say, okay?” Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius waist and turned him to face you.

As they both looked at you with starry and tearful eyes you couldn’t help but believe that you’d caused so much unnecessary pain and hurt to the two people you’d vowed never to upset.

It was clear that there was no room for you to fit in beside them, regardless of how badly you wanted to.

That was okay. It was something that would hurt but it would be something you’d learn to grow from in time.

“Sirius…” You started, before not really knowing where to go from there. You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t know quite how.

Sirius moved away from Remus and in front of you, wiping away some loose hair from your face. He was so close to you, you almost couldn’t breathe.

“I always felt unworthy…”

“Sirius…”

“No just hear me out. I always felt unworthy, until I met Remus. He showed me that I was able to be loved and treated with kindness. Then I came to realise that I could also love and treat people with kindness, and that realisation came when I met you. In fact, it was before I met you. It was the first time I saw you standing on the Platform, waiting to leave for Hogwarts. I saw you and I instantly believed I could be capable of loving someone else. My heart let in Moony, of course it did, but it never felt quite whole. Like there was a piece of the puzzle missing.”

You quickly glanced from Sirius to Remus, to make sure this was an okay conversation to be having - despite how much you never wanted the moment to end.

Remus gave you an encouraging nod.

“I felt it too.”

“All this time we’d been reeling over what that little bit of emptiness was caused by, until we realised that it was because we were missing you.”

[anghraine]

It's 11 PM, but one of my favorite little Darcy/Elizabeth moments happens while she still hates him and thinks he's a depraved monster, and I find it really entertaining.

It's during the Kent section, when Darcy calls at the parsonage and finds Elizabeth alone. During a longer, awkward conversation in which they both deeply misunderstand each other, they have this tiny interchange:

[Darcy:] “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr Collins first came to Hunsford.” “I believe she did—and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.” “Mr Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.” “Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding—though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr Collins as the wisest thing she ever did."

So: they are in Mr Collins's house. Darcy tries to re-start the conversation with a polite nothing about the house. Elizabeth agrees about Lady Catherine's micro-managing, but can't resist the chance to make a sly jab at Mr Collins (who is not present) to Darcy (a genuine villain, as far as she believes).

Darcy's reply looks a bit like an attempt to redirect the conversation into safer waters (they can agree that Charlotte is cool!). But although his remark is only somewhat related to what Elizabeth said, I think it's a natural follow-up in his mind because he is also insulting Mr Collins, if more subtly.

He could have praised Mr Collins's judgment in choosing Charlotte or just said something nice about Charlotte; he doesn't. Instead, he suggests that Mr Collins's choice of Charlotte was a matter of good fortune—or chance, as Charlotte herself would say!—on Collins's part. Darcy and Elizabeth both know Collins is a fool and that his choice of a woman like Charlotte says nothing about his judgment, only about his good fortune. (Elizabeth has even better reason than Darcy to know how much Collins ending up with Charlotte was lucky for him, but Darcy can see it anyway.)

Darcy's phrasing gives him some plausible deniability, but I think he's generally quite careful with his wording and the implicit insult to Mr Collins is not accidental.

Elizabeth, I think, takes this exactly as intended. She's not at all confused about where this tangent came from or offended by it or anything. She readily seizes on the new line of conversation as encouragement to keep insulting Mr Collins and his appeal to women with functioning brainpower.

Elizabeth is pretty scrupulously polite in general, so I kind of love that she just starts venting about her absolute contempt for Mr Collins and the Collins/Charlotte marriage to Darcy in the middle of a tense and weird conversation in Mr Collins's house. And I love that Darcy, who is otherwise more or less dog-paddling his way through this conversation, is like "yeah, your friend seems really cool, that dumbass is lucky he accidentally chose someone with a brain."

Elizabeth: "Right? And, let me add-"

(Is it a bit of an asshole move on both their parts in the context of that scene? Yeah, I think a little. I also love it! Please trash-talk obnoxious hosts in their own parlours for the rest of your lives.)

[ashtavula]

Hihihi! Could I please request a royalty/nobility au with the housewardens? Like them as a dashing Mr. Darcy, if that makes sense.

So, since this is pretty open ended, I'm just going with headcanons on what sort of role they'd have in this au. Though it might be more like an otome au? But if you like it, or want to see more, please don't hesitate to ask!

Royalty AU - The Housewardens

You are the only heir to the throne, and now, you've been given a "simple" task. Find someone to marry before the year is over! Your butler clears his throat, and names some of your potential suitors...

Riddle - The Marquess' Son

-Riddle is the sole child of Marquess and Marchioness Rosehearts. His family is well known for funding medical research, and they're generally well respected. At least, publicly. In private, many nobles whisper about the cruelty of Marchioness Rosehearts, and Riddle's overbearing strictness. Your butler also states that, when your parents announced your eligibility for marriage, she was the very first to put her son's name forward. It makes you think that Riddle had no say in being a candidate.

-Riddle himself is rumored to be at odds with his family, considering his friendship with the local baker, Trey Clover, and other commoners. His mother has publicly denounced the idea that her family mingles with the lower classes, but Riddle continues to be spotted around the bakery regardless. It makes you wonder if he's not quite as strict as the rumors claim...

Leona - The Second Prince

-Leona is the second born prince of a neighboring country. His brother, King Falena, has maintained his country's status quo, but it's becoming rather obvious that Leona doesn't approve of his family's excessive lifestyle while their kingdom's poorest starve. Supposedly, Falena is growing increasingly desperate to marry Leona off to a foreigner so he can be removed from Sunset Savannah's political sphere. Leona's own people talk about him being a lazy, power hungry rebel, and this gives you pause. You haven't heard a single positive thing yet. There must be more to the man than this...

-Your butler goes on to mention that this is merely what your country's spies have found out. According to official correspondence, Leona is a laid back man with a handsome appearance, and a sharp intellect. The sheer difference in those descriptions startles you, and makes you wonder. Who exactly is Prince Leona?

Azul - The Information Broker

-Azul Ashengrotto is the head of the country's biggest information guild. Hiring his Octavinelle Agency is the best way to dig up dirt on anybody, and no one knows just how he acquires that much intelligence. Your parents have listed him as a potential candidate in the hopes that, should you marry him, he would give you access to the wealth of information he has at his fingertips. According to rumors, you must give him something of equal exchange for anything he tells you. You frown as you hear about people selling things like their voices, and their magic to him. He can't be that cruel. Right?

-According to people who have made deals with him, he has a taste for the finer things in life. He'd certainly jump at the opportunity to court you, as you are the heir to the throne. Before your butler can finish, a strange man enters the room. His mismatched eyes gleam as he hands you a letter, stamped with the Octavinelle Agency insignia. The letter is simple, but it sends a chill up your spine. "Your Highness, if you are considering marriage, then please come by my agency. I can tell you anything you wish to know about your suitors, and I'll even waive my usual fees. The only thing I ask in return is for your company. Signed, Azul Ashengrotto." Before you can question the man, he slips out of the parlor. How peculiar...

Kalim - The Merchant Prince

-Your butler clears his throat, and moves on. Next on the list is Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the Al-Asim Trade Company. Merchants under their banner travel far and wide, bringing wondrous things that many people have never seen before. In his country, rich merchants practically become royalty, and Kalim's family is the wealthiest of those families. If you choose him, it will invigorate your country's economy, and your parents approve of this. Also, according to the people who have seen him, he's cheerful and compassionate.

-However, your butler warns that his family has a dark side. In the Scalding Sands, poison is the weapon of choice, and Kalim's life has likely been threatened numerous times. And that his own siblings and cousins are likely his biggest enemies. If you married him, you'd be subjected to the same treatment. You'd constantly have to watch your back, and worry that every sip of wine would be your last. Is that truly a life you wish to lead?

Vil - The Duke

-Vil Schoenheit is the youngest Duke to grace your country's nobility. He's also the fairest. Countless numbers of men and women fawn over his beauty, yet he has rejected every advance that has come his way. This had led to nasty rumors that he has impossible standards, and that his heart must be made of ice. He apparently also has a keen mind, though there are some whispers that he uses that intellect to brew deadly poisons. Who those poisons are meant for, nobody knows.

-His dukedom also contains some of your country's most beautiful locations. Lush forests and thriving apple orchards span his lands, and his people prosper under his rule. However, people do wonder why all of his citizens seem to be good looking, and why nobody seems to oppose him. Is it just a coincidence, or is there a darker reason behind his seemingly perfect dukedom?

Idia - The Inventor

-Idia Shroud is, without a doubt, one of the smartest men in your kingdom. However, his reputation, and several rumors, precede him. He's known for being extremely reclusive, and he's almost never been seen in public. Instead, he trusts an automaton, Ortho, to complete various tasks. And the few times he has been spotted sparked a frenzy of strange rumors. There's talk around the capital that he's been cursed, marked by unholy fire. Your brows furrow. Is he truly one of the candidates for your hand in marriage?

-Aside from the rumors that swirl around him, he's genuinely skilled. Ortho is a completely sentient automaton, and several of his other inventions have changed the average citizen's quality of life for the better. He's the reason your kingdom is more advanced than any other, and that counts for a lot. He's a bit bizarre, but rumors about his supposed "curse" stirs your curiosity.

Malleus - The Briar King

-Your butler shivers, and mentions King Malleus in a hushed tone. He is the King of Briar Valley, a strange land that nobody has ever actually seen. There are old tales about his kingdom. Stories that state that the land is populated by the fae, and that their king is not truly a fae, but a fearsome dragon. These tales claim that any being who opposes the Briar King will be incinerated in a plume of dragon fire, and that he demands complete loyalty from his subjects. As you begin to wonder why your parents would give you such an option, you get your answer. For the first time, Malleus has left his kingdom, and is visiting yours. This might be your kingdom's only chance to forge an alliance with the powerful, mysterious fae.

-There is a bit more information than just wild tales. According to your butler, an odd fae visited the castle yesterday, and told your parents a bit more about Malleus. This fae stated that his king was not quite as intimidating as the stories claim, and that Malleus yearned for companionship more than anything else. Your gaze softened. You, as the heir to a kingdom, knew that a royal life could be a lonely one. If he also felt the ache of solitude, then, he surely couldn't be a monster, like the people say.

Now that you've heard about your potential suitors, only one question remains...

Who will you choose?

[fandomfics]

Enemies to lovers

A Tumblr Made Me Do It fic

Pairing: Wolverine/ Logan Howlett x gn reader, Deadpool/Wade Wilson x gn reader (platonic?)

Description: Wade is determined to make a real life enemies to lovers fanfic between his roommate and you.

Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Wade being God's perfect idiot, italics are 4th wall breaks, fluff, language, Implied smut, maybe some angst.

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

You sit in the laundry room in the basement of your building scrolling your phone when two men enter. One is gruff, a defeated look on his face ready to turn into a scowl at a moments notice, the other is talking circles around the guy .

"And that's why we're basically like Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. I bet Paradox would agree."

"You know, half the time I have no fucking clue what you're on about Wilson."

"Well Peanut, if you'd spend more time listening to what I have to say, maybe-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there bub, you know damn well that after 20 minutes of non stop talking, my brain tunes you out. Maybe it's brain death, maybe it's-"

"Maybelline!" The man you now know as Wilson sings

"No. You know what, you can do all the laundry yourself. I think you've drained my social battery completely, and it's 9am."

"I'm proud of you for emotionally regulating and telling me how you feel!" He turns to you pointing a thumb over his shoulder as the other man leaves, a serious look shading his pepperoni speckled features "He's a social outcast, but we're working on it."

You raise your eyebrows and nod to him with tightened lips.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of your underwear, extending them out to you, "Here, I found these in his room."

Your face turns to disgust just as the buzz of the timer on the dryer goes off. You don't make further eye contact as you grab your underwear and hastily gather your clothes.

"Bye!" He wiggles his fingers at you.

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

A week later you're at a Superbowl party one of the other residents is hosting, you sit on the couch beer in hand as you laugh at the commercials. You feel the couch sink beside you when Peanut sits down, unable to hide your look of disgust you immediately vacate your spot to stand with a friend.

"Save me." You whisper keeping an eye on Peanut. "He's a fucking creep." His face turns to a scowl, he can't hear you right?

Your gaze shifts and you see Wilson on the other side of the room seemingly talking to a wall. You can't hear what he's saying, but he's very animated. What a weird god damn couple.

At some point in the evening you learn their names are actually Wade and Logan.

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

"Operation enemies to lovers is on track, phase one is complete. Phase two: nurture the hatred."

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

Eight months pass and in this time there's an ever building tension. A scowl, an insult muttered under your breath, rumors. Incident after incident inspiring further hatred in one another manages to take place in this time.

It all finally comes to a head when Logan is walking up the stairs with Wade and his laundry in tow and you are on the way down with yours. His shoulder collides with yours, sending your dirty clothes tumbling down and scattering across the steps.

"What the fuck is your problem?" An exasperated scream streams from your mouth directly at the massive man.

"My problem? You're the fucking problem here!" His retort is sharp.

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

Phase two complete. All going according to plan, now to give them something they can bond over. Phase three is a go.

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

"No, it's me! Hi, I'm the problem, it's me! I have spent months getting you to hate each other!" He mimics the most stereotypical evil villain laugh as he holds his hands out, palms up with his fingers bent to resemble claws. "You guys literally did nothing to each other and now you have a common goal probably."

"Murder?" You and Logan say in unison.

You look to him before a cackle erupts from your throat, "Sorry, I can't do this anymore Logan" You turn and jump into his arms with a smile and plant a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"No. No, no, no. This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Wade yells, "It's supposed to be a slow burn, you have to build a relationship based on your new found commonalities. We need plot development, sexual tension! We need a Honda Odyssey!"

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

I bet you're wondering how you got here... Well, me....I'll take you back to the beginning. After-

Whoa, hold on a god damn second buttercup. First you fuck up my fanfic, now you're breaking the fourth wall? Not gonna lie, I'm kinda pumped that someone else can talk to their audience, cause boy it it lonely, but this is my thing right n-

Do you ever fucking shut up? Do you wanna see the flashback or are you just gonna keep running your mouth? Don't test me, Logan and I are great at keeping secrets. You'd never know what happened.

Okay! Shit...proceed.

A few days after the Superbowl party Logan and I ran into each other.

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

You stand in line at the coffee shop just down the street, staring down at your phone when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn and see Logan there, immediately turning back to avoid him, scooting forward to get further away from him.

"Hey," he taps you on the shoulder, "don't I know you from somewhere?"

"What? No!"

"Yeah!" He moves until he's in your sight again, "You're the one that thinks I'm creepy." His face is unreadable.

"Okay, yeah. It is creepy to steal someone's underwear though."

"Ah, I knew it- wait, what?"

"Wade found my underwear in your room. He gave em back to me. So maybe stop being a creep and leave me alone, thanks." You move forward as the line shifts.

"Whoa," he holds his hands up in surrender, "I didn't do anything, I swear! That idiot is probably up to something."

"Look, it's fine, leave me alone and I'll forget it ever happened. Really. Just don't steal my shit again."

"Next!"

You place your order trying to ignore Logan's closeness, when you've finished and are about to get your total Logan adds his order and hands over enough cash for both.

"Least I can do. I'm sorry about my friend."

. . .

The following day you are sitting on the fire escape, people watching, when you hear a familiar voice.

"It's called an enemies to lovers trope. The name really says it all. I just have to intervene here and there, give back stolen underwear and say they're from him, start some rumors. Get em to really hate each other. Then, I'll reveal my devious plot and they'll have no choice but to join forces and turn against me. Through the power of working towards a common goal over time they'll fall in love and I'll have the perfect fanfic."

"I thought you said we couldn't build a snowman you lying motherfucker. I'm outta here." You hear the other voice trail off in a string of curses.

You sit there dumbfounded, Logan wasn't lying. His idiot roommate was plotting...a fanfic?

. . .

The following week you are in the laundry room again and Logan appears, "oh, sorry. I'll come back later." He turns to leave.

"Wait!" He faces you again with a puzzled expression, "I heard Wade talking the other day from the fire escape. You were right. He's up to something." You relay the conversation and have to stop yourself from laughing as Logan's eyes roll so hard you think they might disappear into his skull.

"I have an idea though." The mischief is clear in your eyes, "I say we play along, then when the time comes, we ruin the end of the story. Do something totally different than what he's going for."

Logan smiles, something you haven't seen before, it's disarming how gorgeous it is. "Oh, that's perfect, he'll fucking hate that." He laughs and your stomach flutters a bit. Now that you're really seeing him, you want to get to know the real him.

"We should meet up often, make plans on how we're gonna do this." You say, hoping you're not too obvious.

"I know the perfect place."

. . .

The library is small, the only few tables occupied by studying youth. you and Logan find a spot in the deserted self help corner and sit on the floor across from one another, backs leaning up against the shelves.

"So," He whispers with a smile, "what's the plan?"

"We play along. He's obviously gonna try desperately to make us hate each other, so we go along with it."

The two of you whisper back and forth for a while about different ways you can pretend to hate each other and things you could do. After a time the conversation turns.

"You're pretty new to the building right?" His eyes meet yours across the isle.

"Yeah, I moved in last month. Not the worst so far." You shrug your shoulders and he chuckles.

"You from around here?"

"No, I needed a change of scenery. My friend lives in the building and told me about an opening. Took a chance to get away from my hometown. You?"

"No," a bit of pain briefly crosses his features, quick enough that you almost miss it. "Wade brought me here, gave me a home when I didn't really have one."

"Oh, I wouldn't have expected that..." You trail off.

"Yeah, he's a batshit crazy motor mouth, but he's a good friend. Mostly."

. . .

Every week you and Logan meet at the library, occupying the same spot across from each other, briefly go over plans before managing to drift to other conversations. Sometimes it's random stories from your pasts, other times it's deeper, sometimes it's just talking about your week. You grow closer, building a friendship in this time.

"Come watch this!" You say as you hold your phone in front of you. He scoots to sit next to you, his hand brushing yours as you hand him an ear bud. He leans into you slightly as you watch a video of Deadpool Fails. He's revealed his and Wades abilities long before this and you know he'll love watching the man fail over and over.

He tries his best to keep quiet, but one clip in particular causes a snort laugh to erupt from him and you quickly slap your hand over his mouth as you giggle yourself.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!" He continues to laugh, his face going red, it's infectious and you're sent into a fit of laughter until you're grabbing your stomach.

A shadow suddenly eclipses the two of you and when your eyes raise to see the librarian, you quiet immediately. A slap to Logan's arm jolts him out of his laughter and he finally looks up to the stern woman

"Sorry." You mumble with a look of shame.

"Don't let it happen again." For some reason this sends you into another fit of laughter and Logan follows suit. You're kicked out of the library and find yourselves sitting on a bench until the laughter dies down.

"Sorry sweetheart. Guess we'll have to find a new place to meet." He says with a chuckle. Your heart leaps a bit at the nickname, you've certainly developed a crush on him over the last five months since this all started, but you've done your best to keep it in check.

Blush rises in your cheeks and you look away, "Guess so. I uh...gotta get home, text me if you can think of another place!" You give a quick smile without meeting his eyes before you rush away.

. . .

Logan: found a place, I'll send the address, 7pm tomorrow. Wear something nice.

Me: What? Why?

Logan: Trust me, it's a place he'd never go near. It's ducking perfect.

Logan: ducking

Logan: DUCKING

Logan: Damn it. F U C K I N G.

Me: 😂

. . .

You take your time getting yourself ready, you look damn good and you know it. You arrive at the address and find a cozy restaurant, Somewhere between a diner and fine dining. Candles on every table, soft lighting, wine being poured, definitely not what you expected from Logan. As you scan the place you see him, he stands and smiles with a shy wave.

You've never seen him dressed like this, slacks, white buttondown with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, top two buttons undone. You pause for a moment until you realize you're staring and move towards him sheepishly.

"You look amazing." He says with a soft smile and a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"You look awfully handsome yourself."

He pulls your chair out for you and as soon as you sit he starts to speak. "I hope this is okay. If it's too weird we can find somewhere else-"

"No, this is nice. Is this..." You trail off trying to find a tactful way to figure out what's going on here. "Is this a date?"

His eyes widen and his cheeks flush, "Well, I...uh," he rubs the back of his neck. "I just thought you deserved something nice. Do you... want it to be a date?"

You waver a bit, unsure what will happen if you answer truthfully, so you take caution with your approach, "I wouldn't mind if it was, but only if that's what you want."

He smiles brightly, "Yeah Sweetheart, that's what I want."

The conversation flows freely as it always does with him, you don't talk about Wade or his crazy shit, you don't talk about your plans, you just talk about your own lives. The conversation is deeper than those you've had before, you're getting to know each other on a more intimate level, opening up. Before you know it the restaurant is empty with the exception of the wait staff.

"I don't want this to end," you say unintentionally quiet in your confession, "not yet."

He cups your face in his hand and brushes his thumb over your cheek, searching your eyes. "It doesn't have to."

. . .

A bench on a rooftop overlooking the nighttime city skyline beckons you as you emerge from the stairwell. You sit close to Logan deep in thought, watching the city pass beneath you. A chill runs down your spine and he opens his arms up, offering his warmth. You lean into his side deeply inhaling his musky scent as he rests his arm over your shoulder.

"Whacha thinking about?" He breaks the comfortable silence.

"Just how nice this is," you reply looking up into his eyes from where your head rests on his shoulder, "thank you."

He gives you a warm smile, "Of course." He rests his head against yours and squeezes you a bit tighter.

. . .

The next day a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of your favorite candy is delivered to your apartment, your heart leaps as you read the note, "Thinking of you -Logan"

You swoon like the main character of a romcom walking on cloud nine after a wonderful interaction with their love interest.

. . .

Logan: Wade's away this week on a mission... Can I come see you?

Me: I would like that 😊

. . .

The text had come a few days later and you were overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with him without having to sneak around. A knock on the door brought you out of your daydream and you rush to open it, smiling widely.

"Come in," you gesture for him to enter, "would you like something to drink?"

"Actually," he pulls a bag from behind his back, "I brought us drinks, candy, and popcorn. I thought we could have a movie night."

"Yes! There's a new movie on Netflix I've been dying to watch!" You take him to the kitchen and prepare the popcorn and cups of ice before sitting on the couch and starting the movie.

When you sit a little further away than he'd like he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, "This okay?"

All you can manage is a nod as you snuggle into him.

You wake up with your head in his lap, he's gently stroking your hair, the screen of the TV is black, and he's scrolling through his phone.

"Hey sleepyhead." He says gently smiling down at you as he puts his phone down.

"Fuck. I missed the whole movie didn't I? I'm sorry..."

"Hey, don't worry about it... and I turned it off as soon as you fell asleep."

"How are you so fucking thoughtful and considerate?" You blurt out as you sit up.

"It's easy with you. I just...want you to be happy, always."

You stare into his eyes, the air between you crackles with the electricity of your desire. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, still keeping your gaze.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod and close the distance, a tender kiss that sends waves of butterflies through you, you want to stay here forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperately keeping him close as though he might disappear completely if you aren't there to anchor him.

When you finally pull away he cups your face in his, "Wade is an absolute idiot, but he has made me a better man. A man who would do anything to protect the people he loves. I'm lucky to add you to that list."

"You...?"

"Yeah sweetheart, I love you." He smiles softly, "you don't have to say it back, I just wanted-"

"I love you too." You press your lips to his again, he deepens the kiss and before either of you know it you're in a frenzy. You stand and grab his hand leading him to the bedroom.

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

And fade to black.

WAIT, you can't just stop before you get to the juicy stuff. You ruined my fanfic! I spent eight months on this, I demand porn with a plot! This is Tumblr, the people are gonna demand a part two at least, and when the writer inevitably gives the people what they want, I'll be there!

You haven't heard the last of user xXxBigDaddyDeadpoolxXx!

[princesssarisa]

My post about whether or not Lydia should be saved from Wickham in modern Pride and Prejudice retellings has gotten more likes and reblogs than I expected. It's made me think of another possibility of why Austen didn't save her from him.

Presumably, Lydia and Wickham's marriage could have been avoided in only three ways that would have left Lydia's reputation intact. The first is if they had only been planning to elope, but it was prevented, as with Georgiana. The second is if they had been found earlier and separated before Lydia lost her virginity. Or else Lydia could have listened to Darcy and left Wickham, and then Darcy could have used his influence to protect her honor: e.g. by claiming that she was kidnapped, or by arranging a decent marriage for her.

If Austen had wanted to make any of those choices to free Lydia, she could have done it without drastically changing the plot. But if she had, it might have felt a bit too "literary" and unrealistic.

I've just been re-watching some of Dr. Octavia Cox's literary analysis videos on YouTube. They reminded me that Austen always loved to skewer the tropes and clichés of other literature, especially Gothic melodrama, whether in outright parody or in subtler deconstruction.

Dr. Cox's video on the elder Eliza's fate in Sense and Sensibility particularly highlights this trend in Austen. She argues that Eliza's story is a classic, clichéd Gothic melodrama (a beautiful orphan, an abusive uncle, thwarted romance, forced marriage to a cruel man, a "fall" into a life of "sin," and ultimate illness and death, all narrated by Colonel Brandon in heightened, poetic language), and that Austen's point in including it was arguably to highlight that this wouldn't be the fate of her heroines. Marianne comes close to it with Willoughby and with her near-fatal illness, but in the end she's saved. Austen's point was arguably to say "Yes, I know all about this type of melodrama, I know all the clichés, but I'm relegating it to the backstory, because that's not what I want to write."

(I don't know if everyone would interpret the elder Eliza's storyline this way, but it's how Dr. Cox reads it.)

Maybe with Lydia's fate, and with the backstory of how Georgiana was freed from Wickham, Austen was doing something similar.

I'm not enough of an expert on Georgian literature to know if the rescuing of girls from predatory men with their virginity and honor intact was a cliché or not. But it does appear in late 18th century comic opera. For example, Mozart's Don Giovanni: the title character is the ultimate womanizer, but he has no success with any of the women he tries to prey on over the course of the opera. His seductions are stopped by the timely, chance arrivals of his enemies, his victims get away unscathed, and he pays for his crimes with his life in the end. Or The Marriage of Figaro: the Count's designs on Susanna are thwarted, and he's humiliated and forced to beg his wife's forgiveness.

If stories of womanizers being thwarted and punished, and their female victims saved with virtue intact, were as common in the literature of the day as they are in opera from that era, then maybe Austen used Wickham and Lydia to deconstruct them.

We definitely see some skewering of poetic cliche in the fact that despite Mrs. Bennet's fears/hopes, Lydia's honor is saved with a bribe instead of a duel.

Maybe like the Eliza backstory in Sense and Sensibility, the backstory of Georgiana's near-elopement can be read as a more perfect "literary" example of a girl escaping a cad's clutches. The elopement was thwarted partly by pure chance, as Darcy paid a surprise visit just before Wickham and Georgiana meant to run off, and partly because Georgiana was a “good victim,” whose conscience got the better of her and who chose her family and honor over her whirlwind romance.

But similar luck isn't on Lydia's side, nor does she make the right, “virtuous" choices. Darcy doesn't find the lovers until Lydia has already been living with Wickham, and like a typical reckless teenager, she cares nothing for either her reputation or her family compared to her infatuation with him. So Darcy is forced to bribe Wickham to marry her, Wickham goes unpunished except that he loses his hope of marrying rich, and all the characters have to live with the results of the scandal for the rest of their lives.

By having Georgiana's successful escape from Wickham be mere backstory while foregrounding Lydia's lack of escape, maybe once again Austen was saying "I could have freed Lydia this way – I know the tropes other authors might have used to free her – but I'm a more cynically realistic writer than that, so I won't."

I have no idea if this is valid or not, but it's a theory.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Yes, Mr. Darcy

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1784

cw: anxiety, swearing, fluff

a/n: been in such a Harrington Mood Lately.

“Y/N  Y/M/N  Y/L/N, for the love of god, we need to leave. Now.”

You were standing in front of her mirror, changing out your earrings for the third time. Nothing seemed to match quite right, but these seemed to do the trick. 

“You did not just use my full name, Buckley.”  

“You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago.”

“You and I both know that we’re actually leaving on time, and you tried to trick me so we could just get there earlier so you could get there to hang out with Steve.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms–silent though.

“And she doesn’t deny it.” 

“Oh fuck off.” 

She was just lounging on the couch, head hanging off the side, and one leg over the back. The sound of your heels alerted Robin that you were finally done. She looked up from her phone and her jaw dropped. 

“Shut. Up.”

“What do you think?” 

“I think you’re gonna kill Steve, babe.” 

You smiled. “Good.” 

“Now let’s get a move on because, again, we were supposed to be on our way by now.”

Robin hopped up from the couch and smoothed out her pants legs, trying to desperately combat the wrinkles she just creased in them. 

“You’re too tall in those shoes.” 

You gently shoved Robin's arm as you pulled on your overcoat. 

“Let's head out then?” 

___________________________________

“Steve, let’s get a move on.” 

Steve walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer, where his friends were pacing around, waiting for him. He was fiddling with the gold watch around his wrist–it just wasn't sitting right on his wrist. Why wasn’t the watch sitting in the right place? 

“Oh be still my beating heart.” Eddie clutches his heart and turns to face his best friend. “You look so handsome.” 

Dustin shoves Eddie and rolls his eyes. “We’ve been waiting forever.” 

He gave them a flash of a smile before adjusting the signet ring on his pinky finger, twisting it around and around and around and around and arou—

“Max, Lucas, Will, and Mike are there already, with Nance and Jonathan.” 

Steve huffed and fixed his hair.

Eddie reached forward and picked some lint off of his collar. 

“You seem nervous."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh do I?"

"Alright Jackass, ease up." Eddie crossed his arms. "There's nothing to worry about."

Dustin nodded in agreement vigorously. "There's quite literally no universe in which she says no Steve-"

“Alright. Alright." Steve waved the two of them off nervously. "Let’s go then.” 

___________________________________

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you”

You whipped your head around, before smiling at the man behind you. “Did…Did you just use Jane Austen as a pickup line?”

“Would you be mad that I did?” 

“No, No, I quite….I enjoyed it”

Steve laughed to himself and took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and softly kissing it. 

Cheeks tinging red; this man still knew how to make you blush after four years of being together. 

“You are too much Steve Harrington, simply too much” 

“Too much in general, or too much for you Miss Y/l/n because–”

Your lips were on his before he could even comprehend the rest of his thought. 

“I didn’t even know you knew who Jane Austen was..” Slowly moving from his lips and up his cheek,, kissing the corner of his lips, you hummed. Steve inhaled, snaking an arm around your waist. 

“I listen to you, ya know…” he murmured, praying to whatever god was listening that he would be able to keep quiet. His eyes darted around, making sure that no one in the banquet hall was paying attention to the twenty-three-year-olds in the corner. 

Even though everyone was there as a potential surprise engagement party disguised as a holiday party. 

The massive Christmas Tree in the front of the room caught Steve’s eye. It was perfectly decorated, just like the rest of the room–nothing out of place. The perfectly placed white string lights reflected across the room, across their families. Their picturesque perfect families danced slowly across the dance floor.

Your lips kissed the spot beneath his ear, causing Steve to groan quietly, and squeeze your waist. 

“Babygirl….” Steve mumbled, “Not in front of the whole party. Behav–”

A smirk passed across your lips as you pulled away. “I’m so sorry handsome, it’s just that when you quote one of my favorite novels at me….” 

“Yeah, Yeah. let me fix your lipstick baby” Steve slowly dragged his thumb under your lip, effectively fixing the smudging on her lips, edging the line that you clearly want to shove him over.

“Want to dance with me, darling?”

You smiled and nodded, slotting your hand in his. 

He squeezed it tightly as he caught your friends looking over at the two of you, with expectant faces. Steve tried so hard to communicate “not yet” with his face without you noticing. 

That was not the case since you stopped short. 

“Babygirl, what’s up.” 

“What was that look?” 

“What?” 

“The look Eddie and Dustin just gave you.” 

He scoffed, his chest starting to tighten up. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“You’re up to something.” 

His chest ache spread across his shoulders and down his arms. “No.”

You take a small step back and look over his face. 

Your face shifts from curiosity to concern as Steve’s eyes become panicked. 

Unfortunately for Steve, he completely misread the look on your face. 

It started small, with some erratic breathing. For some reason, he couldn’t breathe. Then, he couldn’t focus. The longer you looked at him, the heavier the little box in his right pants pocket got. 

Steve was freaking the fuck out. It was as clear as day to you, even in the dim lighting. He was sure you were trying to say something because your lips were moving and your other hand had moved up to his arm. 

But Steve couldn’t hear anything beyond his heartbeat.

“Steve, is everything okay? Do you want to go out and get some air?” You gently cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down, trying to get a sense of what was going on. Steve rarely acted like this, and as your eyes flashed across his face, searching for an answer, you couldn’t find it.

His feet have not stopped shifting since you started looking at him.

“Steve?” 

He couldn’t take it. 

“Hey Steve, Baby–”

The string lights started to become too bright for him. 

“Steve.”

The world was spinning.

“Hey–”

Was everyone staring at him? Why was everyone looking at him? He needed to escape. He needed to get out of the suffocation. It was too much.

So when he shoved past you and tore out of the hall, you were beyond stunned. So were all of your friends and family who managed to notice the little scene in the corner.

But he didn’t notice because he couldn’t breathe and he needed air as soon as physically possible. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Your eyes flitted between where Steve exited and Robin walked towards you, still shocked. “I don’t…I don't know what happened Rob—I’ll be..” You started to follow him. “I have to..” 

“Did he..?”

“Did he do what?” You looked back at him. 

“Did he start…”

“Panicking for no reason? Yeah.”

Robin just nodded her head as you placed a hand on her arm and muttered something about Steve, following out after him. You missed the way all of your friends started catastrophizing. 

Snowflakes dusted his hair as Steve stepped into the parking lot. His footprints left a cartoonish path as he created a circle in the new snow on the ground, pacing around. The little box in his pocket was getting heavier and heavier until he couldn’t bear it anymore. 

Steve pulled it out, and stared at it; his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. Why wouldn’t they just stop shaking? 

“I thought we agreed on you quitting?” 

The box fell to the ground as he jumped. “Jesus– you can’t just sneak up on me like that.” 

“Yeah, well you kind of just….you know, ran off.” 

“Shi–Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m just. I needed some–uh, air”

“Yeah Steve, I know. You started hyperventilating.” 

Steve nodded but didn’t say anything else.

You slowly started walking towards him, stopping right before the cover of the building ended. She was right in front of him, he could feel her body’s warmth. Steve just studied her face, watching as she watched him. 

“I love you, you know that…”

A nervous laugh passed through your lips. 

“B-But you know right?” 

“Steve….”

“I promise I’m…”

“You’re not smoking?”

“Yeah...” A dry chuckle came out of his mouth. “Have a little faith in me, god.”

“Steve I–You just froze up and ran out of there–It looked like—”

“I know what it looked like.” He snapped. 

“Tone.” 

Steve huffed and ran his hands through his hair, making it more of a mess than it had been. “I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, what is going on?” 

“This is not how I wanted this to go?”

“What are you tal–”

Steve bent down on one knee and pulled the box out of the snowbank right next to his foot, trying to dust off the snow on it. It was a deep red velvet, and on the inside was a beautiful silver band–simple, with three distinguished, yet tastefully small gemstones encrusted in it.

“Y/n–”

“Yes.”

“Y/n, please–” He laughed nervously, “P-Please let me get through…I’ve been, um–”

“–Yes���Shit, sorry. Sorry.”

She placed her hands over her mouth, using every muscle in her body to restrain from interrupting Steve. It wasn’t working very well since she was nodding the whole time. 

“Y/n, I–we, we have known each other f-for so long, an-and I—fuck. Why can’t I get through this?” 

Y/n grabbed his hands and pulled him up off the ground, tears waiting to burst. 

“Steve…”

“No, I–fuck I had this whole fucking speech and I-I can’t even–” He started pacing again, ring box in his hand. “I’m ruining it. I’m ruining your proposal and I just–” 

“Steve Harrington, will you do me the absolute honor of being my husband.” 

Steve froze. 

“W-What” 

And he slowly turned to look at her. 

Y/n had taken out a small box from inside the pocket of her dress. She was holding it in her palm, open. It was a soft green velvet box with a simple silver band, engraved with a barely noticeable design on the top–it matched her ring perfectly. 

His lips crashed to hers, ring boxes precariously held in one another’s hands.

“You stole my moment.” He muttered against her lips, before pulling away. 

[bethanydelleman]

Something about this whole Lydia thing confuses me a little .

Why did Darcy act alone ? Why didn't he inform Mr Gardiner of his involvement since the start not after the situation is settled ?

When he asked Lydia to leave Wickham, why did he expect her family to receive her when the whole town knew ?

I kept reading posts about how noble Darcy is for asking her to leave him. But honestly just because he does not care about reputation does not nobody else does. Heck, the whole family would suffer from social isolation, he is basically ruining what's left of the girls's chances of marrying well. He is not destroying just his own chances of marrying Lizzie, but with almost any gentleman she would ever come across. What was he thinking ?

At least, while married to Wickham, she has her reputation restored and she can go to balls and parties, if she leaves him she would be banished somewhere far away and for the extroverted loud Lydia, this is HELL.

And if he wanted simply to recover her, shouldn't he bring a relative alone so they would help convince her, surely that would help.

Honestly, the only sensible thing Lydia had done is refusing to leave him.

Darcy acted alone because he didn't trust Mr. Bennet to be a responsible adult so he waited until Mr. Bennet had returned home before approaching Mr. Gardiner:

But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former.

which, good judgment there, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet sucks.

As for the other thing, Darcy doesn't know what is going on in Meryton, he doesn't know that Mrs. Bennet is stupid enough to scream their bad news all over town. This whole affair could have been hushed up if Mrs. Bennet had half a brain cell. Lydia has family in London, they could have easily pretended that Lydia went to visit them.

Either way, I think in Darcy's mind, being married to Wickham is the absolute worst outcome for any woman. He hates Wickham and he knows all of Wickham's faults. To him, a sixteen year old being stuck with that sad excuse for a human being, forever, is worse than death or a cottage. Lydia didn't agree, but I don't think she's smart for that decision, she's short-sighted. And I'm pretty sure at this point that Darcy would marry Elizabeth either way, he'd probably prefer to not have Wickham as a permanent brother in law.

As for Lydia and the family's reputation, there must have been options or else Darcy wouldn't have given leaving as a choice to Lydia. He is very rich and very well regarded and everyone in Meryton now knows that Wickham is awful. So Darcy says she was kidnapped and is completely innocent and he saved her. Fortunately for the Bennet family, they never go to London, so this gossip will not spread far either way. No one knows who they are. Darcy marrying Elizabeth will give the Bennets the same reputation boost that it did in the original timeline. Lydia may need to lay low for a while, but having two very rich brother in laws can only help her marriage prospects down the line.

As for bringing a relative, I assume Darcy would have done that too if he thought it would help. As we know, it wouldn't have.

[courfee]

@into-the-jeggyverse | "mo(u)ld" | wc: 500

“– so forgive me if this sounds too bold you’ve grown on me like cheesy mould I want to love you for all eternity Which is why I ask: Will you marry me?”

Sirius stares at James for several seconds. “You can’t be fucking serious, Prongs.”

“Only fucking his brother, mate,” James jokes to overplay his nerves.

Sirius slowly lets James’ note sink down on the table. “Absolutely not,” he says. “I am not letting you marry my brother if this is your idea of a proposal speech. Forget it.”

James whines, “He said a personal poem is the most romantic thing he can think of, I thought–”

“This is not a poem.”

“What? Of course it is, it rhymes!” James insists.

Sirius snorts. “If this is your only definition of what a poem is, I don’t have to be the one to bar you from proposing, Regulus is going to do that all by himself.” He runs his hands through his hair in despair, getting them stuck in the sunglasses he pushed on top of his head earlier. “I mean you compared him to fucking mould. There is nothing romantic about this! Him declining your proposal would be the best outcome you could hope for at this rate!”

James entire face falls and he looks utterly defeated. “I just wanted to make it perfect for him,” he says meekly. “He deserves to be courted with romance and poetry and all the things he loves, that was the best I could do. And if that’s my best then– then maybe I’m not meant to marry him...”

“No, fuck you,” Sirius snaps. “Absolutely not. James, my brother might love his cheesy novels and romantic poetry, but he loves you more, and you’re not going to take his perfect happy ending away from him because you don’t know what a poem is.”

“But–”

“He said yes to dating you, right?”

James nods in confusion.

“Not some renowned Mr Darcy poet. He wanted to date you, Merlin knows why.” Sirius gives another despairing glance to the note. “So when you propose to him you give my brother exactly what he wants.” He gives James a stern look. “Which is you. Alright?”

James lets the words sink in before he nods slowly. “Alright,” he agrees eventually. “I– You’re right. Thank you.”

“No problem. Just... maybe run the next idea by me as well. Just in case.”

James lets out a little laugh and repeats, “Thank you.”

Sirius reaches across the table and ruffles his best friend’s hair. Then his gaze falls on the speech in front of him once more.

James’ eyes follow his. “Feel free to burn it,” he grimaces.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Sirius says with a mischievous grin and folds the paper up to put it in his pocket. “I’m going to include this in my best man speech at your wedding.” He hesitates for a second before adding, “After Reggie has said his vows and can’t back out of marrying you anymore.”

[azrakaban]

Theodore nott fluffy dating head canons please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

AGH YES YIPPEE I LOVE WRITING THESE I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS

Theodore Nott Headcanons <3

Let's get right into it with some basic Theo headcanons, and then some dating ones too!

- Deffo has a Bernese Mountain dog back at home tbh, his mum loved them and got one before she died, and he loves that dog because it's all he really has left of her presence in his home

- Besties with Mattheo since they were both really little

- His mum died when he was eight, in childbirth, when giving birth to his little sister.

- his family is the Slytherin equivalent of the Weasleys, but reversed. He has four older sisters, and two younger sisters.

- Forces Mattheo to help him babysit his sisters

- Lapses into Italian when he gets tired

- Deffo sleeptalks in Italian, and when you first started dating you probably got so confused 😭

- He's really irritating when teaching you Italian, he'll throw in a word into his sentence and then make you look it up in a dictionary

- For sure loves dancing, whether or not you're good, if you're alone and there's music, call yourself Ginger Rogers

- Big fan of hand holding, he likes the feeling of having you that close.

- Hilarious when drunk, drunk words sober thoughts fr. He'll insult Draco's bleach, but then look at you and be like "Amore mio! guarda Matteo, guarda com'è bella! Aspetta, cosa stai facendo? Smettila di guardare la mia ragazza!" (My love! Look Mattheo, look how beautiful she is! Wait, stop looking at my girl!)

- Definitely a cat person besides his Bernese, and would adopt a black cat ASAP

- Would totally be an animagus, probably a black cat or a wolf

- If wolf, he'd maybe let you ride on his back. Only if he was in a good mood though.

- His music taste: Classical, specifically Beethoven, chase Atlantic, Coldplay. Guilty pleasure is Ariana Grande.

- Love language? Teaching you Italian for sure. Although does give presents randomly if he feels like it, but not too often.

- Definitely ambidextrous, and will help you write your homework. He learns how to mimic your handwriting so that if you don't feel good, he can do your homework for you

- convinced he sleeps with so many blankets that trying to find him in that MESS of a bed is impossible 😭

- actually apologises to your teddies if they fall of your bed

- reads poetry to calm down and will write it about you (you'll never see it though)

- definitely the designated driver most of the time 😭

- he's got snacks stashed all over the castle incase you two get hungry but you'll never know where he's hiding them 😭

- he has a resting bitch face until you're in the room

- queen of accidental photo bombs and there is not a single cute picture of you two no matter how

- pookie CANNOT swim. Don't even get him to try 🤡

- he's an ambivert, so mainly introverted with people he doesn't know, but is actually the clown of the group (him and Mattheo)

- He can play cello and double bass, but only plays for you if you ask

- actually the biggest hopeless romantic, Mr Darcy type shit

- Insanely good singer, and will sing to you in Italian

- good at herbology, took it for OWLS and NEWTs and became friends with Neville through it, they partner every day

- his favourite colour is navy

- Will speak Italian to Mattheo, who can speak it too, just to be funny. Like he'll be glaring at Draco and saying to Mattheo:

"So you think firewhiskey is worse than Muggle tequila?"

"Uh yeah, why are we glaring at Draco?"

"I want him to think we're shit talking him. So do you eat crackers when you drink or not?"

"No, gross. Nutella pancakes."

"Sounds... surprisingly good."

- He cannot wink, so he'll pass you a note in class and try but it looks like he's got something in his eye because both his eyes start twitching 😭

- He thinks pick up lines are shit, and won't use them. He will however ask you out politely and take you on a date or a few before he asks you to be his partner.

Hope this is what you were looking for! Love and thanks for the request <3

[arcane-vagabond]

By Its Cover: Chapter Three

By Its Cover: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (Last Name: Sinclair)

Summary: The frivolity of high society has never much interested in you. You preferred to spend your time reading, something your sisters couldn't fathom as they spent their time shopping the latest dress styles. The youngest of five children and the fourth daughter, not much was expected of you. You knew you might be married one day, but you hoped beyond hope that it would be to someone that might understand your intellectual pursuits. You begin exchanging letters with a mysterious stranger, and what's more, your older brother's rakish best friend seems to find himself in your path more and more as the season goes on. What's a girl to do? (Regency!AU)

Content Warning: Historical inaccuracies probably, Promenading, Lingering looks, Stolen glances, Yearning, Gossip, Disregard for personal space, General anxiety, General self-esteem issues, Mean words. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard

Promenading was a terribly boring affair as far as you were concerned. Or at least, it was when spending the time with your overly zealous older sister. Georgie had insisted on sticking close to Lord Seresin, relegating you to the back with your mother and brother. The two of them conversed amongst themselves, leaving you to your thoughts, your hands itching to find a shaded spot where you could continue to read.

You found the book to be quite riveting so far, admiring the Elizabeth Bennet’s wit and bravery as she traversed the unknown landscape of the upper class. You had laughed at her sly remarks to Mr. Darcy, and envied her close relationship with her older sister. You imagined that Lydia and Theodosia were much like them, the way they were always giggling between each other. You had wanted something like that with Georgie, but you were quick to understand that your feelings were not reciprocated. No, Georgie preferred her gossip and shopping to your books and painting.

You caught Lord Seresin’s eye as he glanced back at you. His eyes twinkled as his lips curled into a smile before giving you a quick wink. Your cheeks heated, eyes growing wide at his boldness. He grinned at your reaction, lips pressing into a firm line as he tried to hold back a laugh, instead choosing to make it appear that he was laughing at one of Georgie’s—positively awful—jokes. You shook your head, ridding your mind of any lingering thoughts about the man in front of you. You glanced around the park, noting several newly presented ladies already chatting with suitors. The pairings thus far weren’t very interesting or gossip worthy as far as you were concerned.

Your eyes continued to flit about the garden until they met deep brown ones. Your mood perked up immediately upon sight of Natasha, an eager smile breaking out across your face as she hurried towards you.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she breathed as she saddled up to you, linking your arm with hers. “I was beginning to think I would die of boredom.”

“It would appear you and I share one mind,” you laughed, squeezing her arm as the two of you fell in to step just in front of William and your mother. Natasha’s eyes flickered back towards them, a coy gleam in them as she looked at your brother.

“I saw that,” you whispered, a knowing look on your face as she blushed, shushing you quickly before promptly looking forward.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Bug,” she stated, fighting the smile that threatened to break out across her face. You hummed, not believing her in the slightest when she peered over at you with a knowing look of her own.

“Although, I have heard some interesting tidbits about you and your sister this afternoon,” she teased, smirking as your eyes shot to hers.

“What on earth could they possibly be saying about us?” You scoffed. “The season has hardly even begun.”

“Well, what a beginning it’s been then,” she said. “The word around the Island is that a certain lady has her eye on the Duke of Austin.”

“That’s hardly newsworthy,” you sniffed, looking at your sister before shifting your gaze back to Natasha. Her eyes danced with amusement as her smirk grew bigger.

“Ah, but you haven’t heard the rest of it,” she grinned. “As it would turn out, the Duke of Austin appears to have his eyes pinned on another.”

You frowned, already not liking where this was going.

“No,” she continued. “He, in fact, has his eyes set on her sister if the whispers are to be believed.”

Your stomach did a flip, your skin suddenly feeling slightly clammy.

“That’s simply just not true,” you muttered, eyes cast toward the ground. It couldn’t be true. You weren’t nearly as good a prospect as Georgie. Sure, Georgie was prideful and snobbish at times, but she was beautiful, elegant, and sure to make a most wonderful bride to some eligible bachelor. You were none of those things. You were opinionated, stubborn, and much too quick to anger. You weren’t the type to be a graceful lady of an estate. No, you knew deep down in your heart that you would grow old in age living as a spinster on your family’s estate. Although, a secret part of you always hoped for more.

“Bug,” Natasha scowled, leaning in further as she lowered her voice so only you could hear. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Looks at me how?” you muttered.

“Like you’re the most divine creature he’s ever had the privilege of beholding,” she smirked. You frown, irritated that you were even entertaining the, quite frankly, foolish notion that a man such as Lord Seresin, a duke no less, would ever feel anything but muddled curiosity for someone like you.

“This is ridiculous,” you hissed, moving to pull back, but Natasha stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Is it?” She questioned, eyes glancing in front of the both of you before looking back at you. “Because from where I’m standing, the man has hardly been able to stop looking at you. Perhaps the notorious rake of the Island is ready to settle down.”

You glanced over just as Lord Seresin’s head whipped back forward, a twinge of pink to his ears as he smiled at something your sister just said. You felt a pang in your chest, uncertain and unable to pin the emotion that suddenly filled you. You pressed your lips firmly together as you continued your walk in silence.

“Excuse me, Miss Sinclair.”

Your little party stopped as Mr. Darnstead came up to stand in front of your sister. You saw the way Georgiana’s lips curved coyly, the glance she cast to her right as she greeted the man in front of her.

“Hello, Mr. Darnstead,” she purred. “How are you enjoying the weather this fine day?”

Natasha squeezed your arm once more to get your attention. You turned your head to see her apologetic smile as she stepped back with a sigh.

“My mama is calling for me,” she frowned, gesturing to the woman in question who stood by the pond with a young man. Natasha’s mother had a look of eagerness as she waved for her daughter, and you gave your best friend a sympathetic nod.

“Good luck,” you whispered, squeezing her hand before watching her go. You startled as William stepped up beside you, a furrow to his brow as he watched Natasha’s retreating figure.

“Is that Lord Anson?” He asked, sparing you a glance. You scrunched your nose at him before shrugging.

“I have no idea,” you answered, a sly smile curling at your lips. “Why do you wish to know?”

William turned to you with an owlish blink that had you snickering into your hand. He scowled down at you, bumping your shoulder with his as he fought the smile that threatened to spread out across his face.

“That’s enough out of you,” he admonished playfully, earning a giggle from you.

It was quieter by the fountain that stood guarded by the giant hydrangea bushes and green hedges. You were the only one to venture to this part of the park, most everyone keeping closer to the main walkway where they were sure to be seen by all of society and any potential matches.

You enjoyed the quiet, truly you did. The chirping of birds and hum of insects complimenting the steady trickle of the water in the fountain. It was a nice, little corner that offered you some semblance of privacy while still being in full view of your ever watchful mother, though she seemed more preoccupied with Georgie and her many suitors that had come flooding out of the woodwork than her youngest daughter. You were grateful for the reprieve, sneaking away quietly to try and find some time to continue reading your book. You were making steady progress, admiring Elizabeth Bennet’s refusal of Mr. Collins when accepting would have been not only beneficial, but expected.

Your mother and brother seemed determined for you to marry, but you knew it was a lost cause. No respectable man of the Island would want to marry the strange, youngest daughter of the noble Sinclair family—especially when there seemed to be constant whispers about her ineptitude as a lady.

You sat perched on the edge of the fountain, feeling the mist from the water on your skin, a shiver running up your spine at the coolness of the water. You set your book down, standing to make your way towards the last remaining blossoms of the hydrangeas. You were happy to see them given how late in the year it was. Your family’s estate had a couple of bushes in its garden, but they were kept pruned short unlike the plants before you. The bush toward over you, making you feel small by comparison.

Your hand rose to cradle one of the last group of blossoms, smiling at the bright, blue petals. The ladies of the Island seemed to favor the bright pink and noble purple blossoms more, but you had always had a fondness for the blue. You leaned forward to sniff the sweet smell, humming with a smile.

“There you are.”

You jumped, whirling around to come face to face with Lord Seresin. He put his hands up, an amused smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“Woah,” he chuckled, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “Easy. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” you lied, frowning and looking away.

“Right,” he said quietly, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I thought I might find you over here.”

You hummed, fingers toying with the hydrangea blossoms once more. You weren’t sure how to talk to him. He was just a boy you had once known before last night, a friend of your brothers who used to carry you around on his back across the fields of your family’s estate. A boy who always indulged you, much to the annoyance of William. He always had a smile for you or a treat of some kind. You had been sad when he stopped coming around.

Now he was a handsome, young Duke of marrying age. You were not blind to the stares he received from the ladies of the Island—and even some of the men—as he had walked through the park with your family. He had become sturdier since his youth, and the very thought had heat rising to your cheeks.

As if he could read your mind, his lips curled into a smirk, and he took several steps towards you, bridging the gap that had kept your nerves at bay.

“You always did like the flowers,” he mused, his fingers coming up to rest against the same blossoms. He was so close, you could feel his body heat radiating off of him, the smell of his cologne competing with the sweet perfume of the flowers. You took a deep breath, lips parting as you took in his scent, eyelashes fluttering as it overwhelmed you.

“You used to bring them to me all the time,” he continued, eyes softening at the memories.

“Did I?” You asked, cursing how breathy your voice sounded.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned, plucking a blossom off the bush and handing it to you. “That and whatever creature you managed to dig up.”

You took the flower from his hands, cheeks becoming hotter at his teasing and the way his fingers brushed against yours.

“Your grace,” you started, but Lord Seresin frowned.

“Jake,” he corrected.

“Jake,” you sighed, grimacing. “Perhaps we should rejoin the others.”

“Why?” he asked with a frown. You pursed your lips, eyes flickering down to the flower in your hand. Anything to escape his intense green ones.

“I think it would be wise in order to avoid scandal,” you murmured, eyes darting towards the main pathway where several of high society’s elite strolled.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned with the thoughts of high society,” he smirked, leaning closer. You leaned away, eyes wide as his breath fanned over your face.

“Why would I not be?” You challenged, brow furrowing. “I am a lady of one of the noble families. To ruin my reputation is to ruin all of theirs as well.”

“You think I’m out to ruin your reputation?” He asked, smirk faltering. You stared at him for a second, mind reeling at his proximity and unsure of how to respond.

“What are your intentions with my sister?” You blurted out. Jake balked, confusion spreading out across his face.

“What?”

“Your intentions with my sister,” you continued, meeting his eyes with faux confidence. “You have quite the reputation, Lord Seresin. I would hate to see her caught up in it.”

All traces of mirth were gone from his face by the time you finished speaking. A dark glimmer in his eyes had you hesitating, but you stubbornly stood your ground, waiting for his answer.

“And what, pray tell, is my reputation, Miss Sinclair?” He challenged, a growl in his voice that most certainly did not make you feel flustered. Your mind raced back to the words Natasha and William had both spoken to you.

“They say you’re a rake,” you declared, lifting your chin. “Rumor has it that you’d rather spend your time with a different lady every night than settle down. That you spend your nights drinking and gambling until the sun rises. If you mean to court my sister, that will have to stop.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with a cold veneer, his jaw clenching.

“I’m surprised you of all people would listen to the wretched gossip that everyone seems so fond of,” he said coolly, standing up straight and taking a step back from you as he adjusted his jacket. “Given how you yourself are the subject of some. Just a silly little girl with her head in the clouds and no understanding of the world around her. You’ll be lucky to find a match at all is what they say about you.”

The hot sting of tears prickled at the back of your eyes. Of course you weren’t a stranger to the things people whispered about you, only a fool would be. But in that moment, the image of the sweet boy who entertained you all those years ago is shattered.

You felt your lower lip wobble, and the cold look in Jake’s eyes crumbles as it’s replaced with one of regret.

“Lady Bug, I-” He started, reaching a hand out to you, but you jerked back. You gave him one last look, schooling your features as you rushed past him.

“Excuse me,” you sniffled, cursing as your voice trembled. You didn’t look back, making a beeline towards where your mother stood.

“Mama,” you called, the older woman turning to face you. Concern pulled at her brow and lips as she looked at you.

“Whatever is the matter, dearest?” She asked, cupping your face in her hands as she looked you over. You cleared your throat as you glanced to the ground.

“I’m suddenly not feeling well,” you lied. “Might I take the coach home?”

Your mother hesitated, and you could feel his eyes on you as she glanced up at him.

“I suppose that’s alright,” she said slowly, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders. “Just have the driver come straight back once you’re home.”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, ducking your head as you scurried away towards the entrance to the park.

You heaved a sigh as you stared out your window. You hadn’t stopped thinking about your exchange with Lord Seresin. Why had he been so upset with you? You were protecting your sister from heartbreak, warning him that the opinions of him will affect her too should he choose her as his wife. Was he angry because they had come from the lips of a woman all considered to be strange? Or perhaps it was because they were spoken aloud at all.

A knock sounded on your door, and you turned at the sound.

“Come in,” you called, thoughts still swirling inside your head. Your maid, Nora, poked her head in, a small smile directed your way.

“Good afternoon, miss,” she greeted, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “I wanted to let you know that dinner will be served in about one hour.”

“Thank you, Nora,” you smiled, but the action seemed forced. She hesitated for a moment, flinching as you gave her a puzzled look.

“Your mother wanted me to remind you that the Duke of Austin will be joining your family this evening,” she twittered nervously.

Your heart sank, the thought of seeing him again so soon filling you with dread. Perhaps you could feign illness and stay in your room with your book-

You lurched to your feet, Nora giving a startled cry at your sudden movement. You scurried around the room, moving piles and throwing pillows in a bid to find it.

“What are you looking for, miss?” The maid asked, coming up behind you. You turned to look at her, despair coloring your features.

“My book!” You exclaimed. “The one Mr. Mitchell let me borrow! I must have left it at the park, oh no.”

“You might still have time to go back and get it,” Nora offered. “You could be back with just enough time to get ready for dinner.”

“I’d be cutting it close,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip. The sky was beginning to darken, and you huffed out a breath.

“We must go quickly,” you decided. Nora grabbed your cape as you hurried out of your room. She chased after you, wrapping the cape around you as you exited the house. The driver was blessedly still by the stagecoach, and you signaled to him that you were in need of his services.

“I need to get to the park,” you told him, clambering into the coach. “As quickly as you can.”

The ride was quick, but silent, the coach jostling every now and then. You thanked the driver once you had stopped, gathering your skirts and running towards the fountain. You were out of breath by the time you reached it, panting as you looked to the spot you had set it down at earlier. Your stomach did a flip as you looked, the book nowhere in sight. You did two laps around the fountain before letting out a groan.

“Blast it all,” you cursed, hiding your face in your hands. How were you going to explain this to Mr. Mitchell?

With a sigh of defeat, you trudged back to the coach, your driver giving you a sympathetic look as he helped you inside. The ride back felt slower despite using the same route as before. When the coach stopped in front of your home, you thanked the driver once more before trudging inside. You heard voices coming from the parlor, and you knew you’d have to move quickly unless you wanted to hear another lecture from your mother about minding the time of others.

The family butler, Mr. Stevens, approached you.

“Miss,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. “A parcel was left for you earlier this evening.”

“A parcel?” You frowned, shrugging off your cape. “Whoever from?”

“I’m not sure, miss,” Mr. Stevens grimaced. “It was left at the door with a note on top of it.”

Mr. Stevens gestured toward the end table pressed up against the wall. You walked over to it, brow furrowed as you lifted the wrapped package, the note falling to the side. You tore at the paper, eyes lighting up once you saw what was underneath.

“My book!” You exclaimed, relief flooding you as you clutched it to your chest. Your eyes darted towards the note that lay on the table, your name in neat scrawl printed across the front. You set the book down, picking up the paper gingerly as you flipped it open. Your eyes darted across the writing, widening before you could fully process what you were reading.

What on earth?

A/N: A big shoutout to not only Ruthie, but @sorchathered for helping me make concrete decisions on this story! My works wouldn't be what they are without the help and ever present ears of my friends to help me through and bounce ideas off of.

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. If you would like to be notified on when I post updates, please follow my side blog (@arcanevagabond-library) and turn on post notifications! My work is cross posted on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Mrs Barnes-Rogers Writes Masterlist

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance

Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader; Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega reader; Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch reader; eventual Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega witch reader x ?

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

The Fate Of A Fae

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates / Monster/Fantasy AU

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Pretty As A Picture

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

The Pull Of You

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates

Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's tshirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.

Angel

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers.

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Our Lost Girl, Our Babydoll Masterlist

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: A bookshop and a spilled coffee leads you to Clint. He leads you to Natasha, and you lead them both to your best friend Darcy. They try to introduce you to Bucky and Steve but you're full of excuses and Irish goodbyes. Until Bucky catches your scent on Natasha and he's sliding in your DM's and offering to help pack up Darcy's apartment. Steve wants to give their bookworm the world and your Irish goodbyes won't slip passed him, because his eyes never leave you. But what's giving you the lost look in your eyes?

The Feral Princess Masterlist

Marvel AU

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Theme: Soulmate AU / Medieval / Fantasy / Soulmate Marks

Summary: Bucky and Steve have known they were soulmates since they were children. Fate bringing a then sickly Steve and the future King together. War takes them apart and throws them back together over and over, in and out of each other lives, arms and beds. But something is missing and throughout, they know they are missing their third and final piece. The kingdom is now Bucky's and Steve's, the latter now a leader and no longer a sickly child. Both are war heroes, with the respect of their country and those that surround it. They are a force to be reconned with, admired and respected within the other royal houses. They could have any maiden or princess they wanted, but they don't want just anyone. They want their soulmate. They want their princess. Even if she is known as The Feral Princess.

One Shots

The Dream - Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Multiverse crossover where Strange and Stark are up to know good.

The Return - Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Follow on to The Dream.

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

[taradactyls]

More Bennet Family finances discussion - Ch26 end note of Trying to Tread Water

For those of you interested in the financial elements of Austen’s books, that statement of Mr Bennet’s about how much it would have taken to give their daughters £10,000 apiece is accurate. That’s more than they would be expected to have, as the general rule about ample dowries appeared to be about 3x the father’s yearly income, a number which certainly seems supported in the case of the Darcys and Bingleys (keeping in mind the late Mr Bingley must have had £140,000, if the daughters each had £20,000 and Mr Bingley has about £100,000).

SO, if we go by that rule and aim for each of the Bennets to have £6,000 (as Mr Bennet’s estate is £2,000/y) invested in the 4% like their mother’s settlement is, how much WOULD Mr and Mrs Bennet have had to be saving?

We can assume by the end of the book they have been married at least 23 years (and they should have been saving from the very beginning, regardless of their hope to end the entail), which means that if they’d reinvested the interest of Mrs Bennet’s £5,000 and added £450 a year, they would have £28,802 about when Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia got married. Even if they were given a dowry immediately upon their marriages (meaning £18,000 is subtracted) it would only take two more years for the account to be over £12,000 again, ensuring all five daughters would have at least £6,000 after their parents were dead. (If it were invested in the 5% bonds, these savings go up to £34,001 after 23 years, and to get £29,858 after 23 years they would only need to be depositing £350).

But say that level of saving isn’t desired, as Mrs Bennet doesn’t want to live off £1,550/y. They could live off the £2,000/y estate and save only the interest of her £5,000 settlement (the £4,000 dowry plus additional £1,000 from Mr Bennet) and, in 23 years, have grown those savings to £12,324 (£15,358 in the 5%s). Which means that if Mr Bennet were to die tomorrow the family would still feel they were in genteel poverty, but would be more than twice as rich as they are in canon which is a DRASTIC difference. For context, in Sense and Sensibility, Mrs Dashwood and her daughters are living off the interest of about £10,000 and it seems Mrs and Miss Bates in Emma have interest from about £2,000-£2,500.

If they had saved even only £100/y on top of that interest the number shoots up to £15,985 (£19,501 at 5%), £200 saved becomes £19,647 (or £23,644), etc. It really wouldn’t have been hard for Mr and Mrs Bennet to save enough money so their daughters (and Mrs Bennet, if she’s the survivor) needn’t fear genteel poverty when the estate passes to Mr Collins. Catherine Moreland (of Northanger Abbey) is one of ten children whose father is almost certainly not as rich as Mr Bennet, but she has a dowry of £3,000, so there’s no reason to think Mr and Mrs Bennet couldn’t have achieved that. When Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters are mocking the Miss Bennets’ wealth at the start of the book it’s not just the number they’re judging, but what it reveals about the priorities and fiscal savviness of their parents. Imagine if you knew a 1%er family who were constantly flirting with bankruptcy and 2/5 of their children were barely educated – you wouldn’t be wrong for assuming there were some drastic faults within that family. Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters were horrible snobs about it, but it actually was a massive lapse of Mr and Mrs Bennet’s duty and they’re rich enough that there’s no excuse for it. After all, Mr Darcy is about five times richer (Mr Bingley is two or two-point-five times richer) than Mr Bennet, yet Georgiana is THIRTY times (and Caroline and Lousia twenty times) richer than the Miss Bennets. I know it’s easier for someone with Darcy levels of money to save, but wow is the failure drastic when you compare it directly.

[aliesbienish]

Love at first swipe

Benedict Bridgerton x fem reader. Modern Au.

Warnings: Cheesy AF. Innuendos.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cute smile. Check.

Kind eyes. Check.

Well written profile with no misogynistic undertones. Double check.

This guy must be to good to be true. Definitely a bot. Or married and cheating on his poor wife. Plus what girl hasn’t been screwed over by a ‘Ben’, maybe he’ll be yours.

Still against better judgement you swiped right on Mr. cute smile, and then called it a day. Closing tinder and setting down your phone, reluctantly getting up to make yourself dinner. Honestly having a partner to share the cooking load was just as appealing as the romance at this point.

Basic spaghetti made and glass of wine in hand you plopped back onto the couch to continue your next rerun of pride and prejudice, the tv show of course. At least you could always day dream of life with Mr Darcy, and if he was always looking like he just emerged from the lake then so be it.

Grabbing your phone to enter into some simultaneous mindless scrolling you saw a notification from Tinder pop up. Oh boy a new match. Maybe you needed more wine.

Of course you couldn’t help being intrigued, so you opened it up to see a new message from the definite robot himself.

Ben: Good evening [y/n], to what do I owe this pleasure?

You: Bit early to determine I’ll be a pleasure isn’t it?

I’m actually only here because I am convinced you are a bot and honestly chatting with a bot is almost guaranteed to be more exciting than chatting with a man.

Ben: I’m nothing if not optimistic. I promise I am not a bot. And before you say it; I know that it’s exactly what a bot would say but it’s also exactly what a human would say.

You: Touché. Alright Ben, prove it.

Ben: Do you interrogate all your matches or am I special?

You: You’re special. But don’t get sappy about it, I’m just suspicious that your profile doesn’t have a photo of you fishing or in front of a car.

Through many years of observation I’ve hypothesised that each human man must show one or the other.

Ben: And have you hypothesised why that may be?

You: It’s almost certainly something to do with their hunting and gathering skills. That or compensation.

Ben: And how was this concluded?

You: Well fishing is obviously a modern (and frankly boring) man’s hunting and gathering.Least amount of work and blood involved. These men want to prove they can provide, but will likely never actually do the real hunting and gathering ie. Grocery shopping.

Ben: Science seems sound. And cars?

You: Well that’s obvious. The bigger and shinier the car the smaller the 🍆.

Ben: I quite agree…but that might be because I own a mud covered beetle.

You: Haven’t you heard it’s best to keep expectations low?

Ben: And risk losing out? No thank you.

You: If you’re real, which the jury is still out, I’m sure that’s not an issue.

Ben: Still? I’m flattered. And while it may not be an issue let’s say why would I settle for bronze when I can have gold?

FYI that’s me saying I think you’re gold

You: thanks for the clarification. You’re really into calling this early aren’t you? 10 minutes and you’re obsessed.

Ben: It’s actually been about thirty minutes if you count when I first came across your profile and haven’t stopped thinking about you since.

You: That is either incredibly honest or an amazing line.

Ben: Oh it’s both. But first and only time I’ll use it, cross my heart.

You: So what next?

Ben: Coffee, tomorrow hopefully if that’s not too soon?

You: Tomorrows great. Meet in the city? Say Leicester Square at 11am?

Ben: Done. I look forward to it.

You: You’d better be real or I’ll hurt you.

You were standing in the square outside of the cinema, your agreed meeting place. Despite the anxiety in you wanting to call the date off you’d made it. It was likely a good thing you only had 24 hours or so to think about it. Ben had been funny and endearing and so damn sure he wanted to meet you. He seemed so lovely that it defied belief, but you were willing to suspend reality.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you spun around to come face to face with Ben. In the flesh, as handsome or in fact even more so than his profile photos.

You meet his eyes and suddenly you felt lost in them.

“Hi,” You muttered, a goofy smile plastering your face. “I’m [y/n]”.

“Hi back. My real names Benedict. But Ben is fine. Long story. It’s lovely to meet you properly.”

“Thank god we’re both real,” you laughed.

“To be honest I never had any doubt. When you know you know.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Maybe I’m just trying to manifest my own luck on the dating apps 🤷🏻‍♀️