#yes your honor i love her with all my heart
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jsraven7 · 1 day ago
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This is an odd post, but seeing all the new Hellenic Polytheists terrified of making the Gods angry breaks my heart.
You have to try extremely hard to make the Gods mad. They will not be mad at you for tiny things. You practically have to be intentionally trying to make them mad, or do something hubristic. I wanted to share a story of mine personally to aid others in this anxiety. I know this may be an odd way of helping others feel better, but I really do hope it helps.
I started working with and worshipping Lady Hekate over a year ago. I was in a horrendous headspace, and called out to Her for more selfish reasons. I built my relationship with Her on needing help to do baneful workings against the abuser I just escaped from. Which, really, is a thing a lot of people do. But, because I was in this horrendous headspace, I didn’t go about it the right way. I didn’t do a good job at building Kharis with Her, or giving Her any offerings for Her help. I was quite disrespectful to Her, really. I felt my relationship with Her turn towards something more strained. I felt more negative when thinking of Her, and a lot of the time I felt shut out from Her. Any offerings I gave Her felt disconnected, like a call that didn’t go through. She was not quite happy with me, and I couldn’t blame Her.
The thing is, though, is that She was never angry with me. I could feel our relationship break slightly, and I could feel a wall between us. My offerings didn’t always feel like they were accepted, and our relationship just felt discordant. But every time I sat down with Her with my divination tools and asked if She was mad at me, the answer was always a very strict, ‘no’. Despite how tumultuous our relationship felt, She was never angry. Disappointed maybe, yes, but not angry. I worked closely with Her on repairing the little cracks in our relationship as I begun to heal a bit more from what I asked Her to help me with, and as I got more stable in myself. I dedicated time to devotional acts for Her, speaking with Her, and giving Her offerings with the intention of reparations. Very quickly, our relationship healed. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect yet, but we have a very wonderful relationship now. I clean bones in Her honor, and I love to feel Her presence as I do so.
All in all, the point of this is, our relationships with our Gods are just that—relationships. The Gods will not be mad at you for every small thing, or even for bigger things, like the mistakes I made. Your relationship may feel odd with Them from time to time, but that’s completely alright. Like every relationship, you have to figure out your rhythm, and there’s no sense in a God being mad for you figuring out how this all works. I was very experienced with this all when I made those mistakes, and yet She was never mad. Why would They be upset when you’re just figuring it all out?
Rest easy, all of you. This is a religion, this is life, this is love. Religion is to be enjoyed, to let your happiest self go. The Gods rejoice in Themselves, and rejoice in you. Have fun, be respectful, and trust in yourselves and Them. Love to all of you—be kind to yourselves.
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jackles010378 · 3 hours ago
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A Sweet Serenade
Jensen ackles x y/n
Jensen serenades y/n whilst celebrating their anniversary on a cruise, but jensen has a surprise in store for y/n..................
No warnings needed, it's pure fluff 💚
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Jensen and his girlfriend, Y/N, had been together for three wonderful years filled with love and adventure. To celebrate their anniversary, Jensen decided to surprise Y/N with a romantic getaway on a small cruise.
As they boarded the cruise ship, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement. The ship was beautiful, with elegant decor and breathtaking views of the ocean. Jensen had thought of everything, from their cozy cabin to a special dinner reservation under the stars.
One evening, as they were lounging on the deck, Jensen suddenly disappeared into their cabin and reemerged with his guitar in hand. Y/N's eyes lit up with curiosity as he sat down next to her, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
Without a word, Jensen started strumming his guitar, the melodious notes filling the air around them. Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion as he began to sing a sweet, romantic ballad just for her. His voice was like a warm embrace, wrapping her in a cocoon of love and tenderness.
Y/N was mesmerized by Jensen's singing, each word seemed to be written just for her. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, feeling like she was the only person in the world. The soft glow of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, creating a magical backdrop for their private serenade.
Jensen's voice was filled with emotion, his eyes never leaving Y/N's face, pouring his heart out through each lyric. Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for her.
As the song came to an end, Jensen set his guitar aside and took Y/N's hands in his. "Happy anniversary, my love," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Y/N flung her arms around him, unable to find the right words to express the love and gratitude swelling in her chest. She kissed him deeply, pouring all her love and devotion into every brush of her lips against his.
As they pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, Jensen let out a shaky breath. He was nervous about what he was going to do next. But as sson as he looked into her eyes, he knew that he was making the right decision. He reached out for her hand and gripped it softly. Y/n looked at him, curious at to why he had become all flustered all of sudden.
Then Jensen slipped off his chair and knelt on one knee in front of her. Her eyes went wide as she realised what he was about to do, "Y/n, my love, my rock, my world. Words can not describe how much you mean to me. I should of done this sooner. I realised that the past 3 years of my life have been the happiest and best I've ever lived, and that's all because of you. You are kind, considerate and make me feel things I've never felt about anyone, ever. You mean the absolute world to me, and I don't ever wanna lose you. Your my soul mate, y/n. So would you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife? Y/n, will please marry me? ".
Y/n didn't hesitate for a moment as she pulled Jensen up and kissed him with all of the love she had in her body. Jensen pulled away from the kiss momentarily "so, is that a yes?" he asked searching her eyes for answer. "Jensen, you are my soul mate, my rock, my partner in crime. I'd love nothing more than to become your wife." Jensen twirled Y/n around in a hug. As he placed her back down he pecked her lips "you have just made me the happiest man on earth".
They sat together in peaceful silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon, grateful for this moment of pure, unadulterated love. Jensen's impromptu serenade had turned a beautiful evening into a memory they would both cherish forever.
I am so rubbish at writing proposals so I hope that sounded ok and you guys enjoyed this 🥰💞
TAGLIST : @nescavaneckdaily @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @angelbabyyy99 @cheynovak @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33
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smolandweirdwriter · 3 months ago
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hi hi hi show me your adaine/naradriel vision pls
Their father's worked together often, and Adaine hated Nara. She thought she was a scatterbrained, spoiled idiot. And no, none of this stemmed from a place of jealousy. That would be absurd.
“Nara is a bitch” is quite possibly the only thing Adaine and Aelwyn had ever agreed upon before Adaine’s sophomore year of high school. 
As children, Adaine would be forced to spend more time around Nara than Aelwyn, because she was the youngest and had to “earn the opportunity” to socialize with the adults as an equal (or some bullshit to that effect, anyway). She and Nara and other kids would basically be lumped together towards the end of a table at dinners and things while Aelwyn would sit a smidge closer to the adults, smiling and simpering and being the Perfect Daughter. Adaine would try not to talk to Nara, who honestly just… Didn’t get the social cues of I-Don’t-Want-To-Talk-To-You that Adaine put across. She was fairly sure Adaine disliked her and didn’t understand that. In her mind as a child Adaine Abernant was the epitome of cool. She was clever, but she also argued with her father and talked back and didn’t seem to care about the opinions of others. Nara really, really wished she could be her.  She wanted to impress her. She didn’t want Adaine to dislike her—so she tried talking to her. Which, of course, Adaine loathed. 
When Adaine moved to Solace, it took only a few years for Naradriel to fade to the back of her mind. Childhood memory is a fickle thing. She does not remember their home in Fallinel, does not remember more than snippets of dinners with her father’s political rivals and allies, does not remember moving. She does not remember Nara.
Until. She sees Nara on Tracker’s lap and a flood of memories return.
This bitch, Adaine thinks. There is no way—no fucking way—Tracker would ever fall for her. 
She continues on with that mentality, albeit hiding it, because she knows how important Nara’s father is and how he might give her what she wants. (Angwyn loathed that he needed to report to Lord Kestadine Narmorith, and he always ranted at great length about the other's deceit and political betrayal when they were both moving up in the Fallinel government. It's not until Adaine sees the words "Princess Naradriel Narmorith" in Tracker's Instagram post that the connection hits her. It's funny. She's never agreed with her father on anything. Yet they both hate the Narmorith family. Princess isn't really a proper translate anyway--Fallinel isn't a monarchy, the positions aren't inherited through blood. Magic--power--reigns supreme there, for thousands of years, or however long someone wants to hold their position in rule. Nara's just the daughter of a rich and powerful elf. She's a political tool, of course, which makes her princess-adjacent, but the official title, which does not have a true translation in Common, can be attributed to any of the children of someone on the Court of Stars.)
Adaine meets Nara. She's a bit naive, and Adaine is quick to call her stupid as many times as possible because it makes more sense than the other less sensible words that pop to mind and flutter to life in her stomach and blood when she sees her sister's new girlfriend, but she's also kind and she seems earnest enough. She's a bit try-hard, though. 
Still. It seems like Tracker's been leading her on a bit, from the way Track looks at Kristen.
Which, of course, is entirely Tracker's business. Adaine's never even been in a relationship. It's not her place to judge Tracker.
Adaine had pictured Nara's father to be, well, similar to her own. Perhaps a little closer to how he treated Aelwyn than how he treated herself, but a normal elven father nonetheless. He wasn't.
He wasn't. 
Kestadine Narmorith was a patient father. He agreed to Adaine's demands. He listened. 
Adaine is lightheaded from the sheer shock that her problems might be solved so soon, that she might not have to fear failing her wizarding classes, that if it doesn't work she might fall into an even worse hole of failure, and that a man her father had hated was a good parent--she cannot focus. 
She stumbles out of the meeting to gasp quiet thanks to Nara, and just...Can't process. 
Nara has a crystal now, for whatever reason. They exchange numbers. They start talking.
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teasel-backatitagain · 1 year ago
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Thinking about her (Karina Braun)
#I do not like her in the slightest#But also want to explore Reiners feelings toward her post rumbling#Her 'oh yes i only want my son' bullshit is not flying with me (nor is it flying with jean AHAHAHAH)#Karina used Reiner as a tool to further her own desires#Putting a clear expiration date on her only son as the ripe age of ten#She sees him coming back from his trip to hell depressed suicidal self harming and does not care lol#She also gladly pushes gabby toward the same fate (and we know how Reiner feels about Gabby)#So yes propaganda propaganda but goddamn the amount of damages she caused her only son (a literal CHILD)#Reiner is somewhat aware of all that but feels conflicted about it and might kind of push it away#Cause god he has already lost so much#She would have AT BEST troubles reckoning with the full extend of it and properly atone for it#And at worst be a nasty bitch about it and straight up refuse to admit anything but still insists on having a relationship with her son#Idk man wherever she ends up falling on that spectrum Reiner is in for a fun time#(cause i do think he'd want some sort of relationship with her)#(also i think she wouldn't be fully on board with her son kissing devil men (yes jean) on the mouth so that's a problem to add to the list)#Interested about how jean would fit in all of that cause of course he'd be there every step of the way#(they're in love your honor there is just a chance they don't know it yet)#Between his mom being so not karina#his foul mouth#big heart and burning desire to prevent reiner from being trampled yet again#That would make for some fun discussions#So much possibilities... the juices are jussing#do i have the braincells to discuss all this with the nuance it deserves at this ungodly hour? no#hopefully at some point i will#reinjean adjacent#rambling
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whisperofwonder · 5 months ago
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Continuation of this
fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou
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You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.
"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.
Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.
"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!
"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"
"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.
You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.
"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.
Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.
"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."
"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."
"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.
"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."
You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.
There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.
"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.
"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.
"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.
"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."
You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.
"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."
"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."
He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.
"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.
"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."
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jungwnies · 1 month ago
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F1 GRID | the daughter of a rival team principal
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : the daughter of a team prinicipal finds love in another team ୨ৎ : requested : yes
୨ৎ : genre : romance ୨ৎ : tws : father-daughter arguing ୨ৎ : word count : 4799 (~685 words each)
୨ masterlist ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was so fun to write i love it (charles was a personal favorite >.<)
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ʚ・max verstappen
you’ve always known what was expected of you. as the daughter of mercedes f1’s team principal, your life has been one of luxury, pressure, and constant public scrutiny. your father’s legacy has always loomed large over you, and you’ve been trained your whole life to uphold it. but tonight, at a charity event during the off-season, something shifts.
you never expected to meet him. max verstappen—red bull’s star driver, known for his dry humor and sharp wit—has always been in the rival camp. you’ve heard about him, but when you finally talk to him, it’s different. his banter is sharp, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your heart race. it’s not the usual flirtation you’ve experienced with other drivers; it’s deeper, more genuine.
a conversation turns into a quiet moment away from the crowd, and before you know it, you’re both caught in an unspoken connection. you try to convince yourself it’s just the heat of the moment, but the chemistry between you two is undeniable. as the night ends, the weight of your family’s rivalry presses on you. you can’t be with him. not him. not a red bull driver.
but the connection is too strong. as the weeks go by, you find yourself texting max in secret, sneaking around after races, and spending stolen hours together. you’re falling for him, and it terrifies you. you’re not just risking your own heart; you’re risking your family, your reputation, and the wrath of the media. but when max looks at you with those eyes—full of intensity and something more—you can’t stop yourself.
the pressure builds with every passing day. your family expects you to uphold mercedes’ honor, and you know your father would never approve. meanwhile, max—who’s used to constant scrutiny—becomes frustrated. he’s tired of hiding, tired of sneaking around, and you start to feel the weight of it all. the secrecy is suffocating, but you’re scared of what will happen if the world finds out.
then, during a crucial race weekend, everything explodes. mercedes and red bull are neck-and-neck, both fighting for the title. after the race, max wins, and mercedes is left picking up the pieces. that night, you and max decide it’s enough. you’re done hiding.
you sit across from your father and max’s team principal, the air thick with tension. your father’s face is a mixture of shock and fury as he demands to know why you would choose max. “he’s from red bull,” he says, as if that’s enough of a reason for you to walk away. max’s principal isn’t much better, questioning how this relationship could possibly work.
but max speaks up. “i’m not just a driver,” he says, his voice calm but unwavering. “i’m with her because i love her. i’m not hiding anymore.”
the room falls into a heavy silence. your father’s eyes narrow, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, but as he looks at you—really looks at you—he sees something he can’t ignore. the sincerity in your eyes, the depth of your feelings for max, is undeniable. this isn’t a passing phase or a rebellious act. it’s real.
“you really love my daughter?” your father’s voice is no longer harsh, but laced with something else—caution, perhaps even a hint of understanding.
max doesn’t hesitate. “i do. i love your daughter.”
your father exhales sharply, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “if you ever break her heart, i swear to god, i’ll make sure your engine never sees the finish line again.”
max, looking both relieved and earnest, nods. “i would never, sir. i’d never hurt her.”
over time, both families begin to soften. the media circus doesn’t go away, but the tension between your families does. slowly, the world starts to accept what you already knew: love doesn’t care about the rivalry between teams. it doesn’t care about the rules.
max wins another race. this time, you’re there, not hiding, not pretending. the cameras flash around you, and you stand by his side, proud. he looks at you with that same intensity, but now, it’s not a secret. your love is out in the open, stronger than ever.
and as you walk off the podium together, hand in hand, you realize that no matter what the future holds, you’ve already won. together.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
you’ve always been part of the f1 world, living in the shadow of your father, the red bull team principal. but one night, everything changes when you're forced to attend a press conference with him. you’re trying to stay out of the spotlight, your eyes gliding over the room, until they land on him: lewis hamilton. despite the rivalry between red bull and mercedes, something shifts when your gazes meet—an undeniable connection, one that neither of you can ignore.
after the press conference ends, lewis, ever the charmer, approaches you with that trademark grin. “so, you're the red bull princess, huh?” he says, his voice playful, though there's something deeper in his eyes. you nod, taken aback by the intensity of the moment.
"you don’t look like the type to be stuck behind a desk," he adds with a smirk, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.
you laugh, trying to hide how your heart skips a beat. "guess i’m not."
the next few weeks are a blur of stolen glances and quiet exchanges. with every conversation, every private moment, you both feel the connection deepening, though the tension between your families grows. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and the last thing you need is for the media to catch wind of anything. but as the whispers start, you can’t fight the pull between you and lewis any longer.
the secrecy wears on you both. the constant sneaking around, meeting in hidden corners, avoiding the constant press. it’s like living a double life, and eventually, it becomes too much. you feel suffocated by the pressure of hiding your love, and lewis, frustrated and restless, isn’t happy either.
then comes a pivotal race. both red bull and mercedes are facing setbacks, and the competition is fierce. the tension is at an all-time high. after the race, the world is still buzzing with the results, but you can't think about anything else. you need to see him.
as the race concludes, you rush through the paddock, your heart racing. cameras flash all around you, but you don’t care. you spot him—lewis, standing in the pit, grinning like he just won the world. without thinking, you run straight to him. the noise of the world fades as you leap into his arms, and he catches you effortlessly, spinning you around in a burst of joy. it’s a moment of pure freedom—a declaration that you’re done hiding.
the cameras capture everything: your arms around him, your laughter echoing through the chaos. the media goes wild. your father, watching the broadcast from his office, doesn’t know whether to laugh or shout. he stares at the screen, eyes widening in disbelief as you and lewis embrace on live tv.
"what the hell…?" he mutters under his breath. his fists clench, watching his daughter—his little girl—defy everything he’s worked for, the legacy of red bull and its rivalry with mercedes. for a moment, he’s stunned, unsure of what to think.
later, when you sit down with him, you brace for the confrontation. but instead of anger, he looks at you with a quiet understanding in his eyes. “you’re my little girl,” he starts, voice softer than you expect. “i’ve spent my life trying to protect you, to keep you away from this madness. but if this is who you love… then i’ll support you. even if it’s from a rival team.”
you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest. the rivalry still exists, but in that moment, you realize that family comes first. your father’s approval means more than anything, and his acceptance gives you the freedom to live your truth.
ʚ・george russell
it’s a late afternoon at the track, the sun casting long shadows over the paddock as the roar of engines fills the air. you’re standing near your father, the principal of red bull racing, watching the teams prepare for another race. it’s business as usual—except, today, something feels different.
as you glance around, your eyes land on him: george russell. mercedes’ promising young driver, always composed and focused. but today, it’s not the usual competitive edge you notice. instead, you spot a technical issue on his car, a minor glitch in the system that could cost him on track. without thinking, you stride forward, your pulse quickening with a mix of adrenaline and nerves.
“george,” you call, your voice cutting through the air.
he looks up, surprised to see you, but a flicker of recognition crosses his face. “y/n,” he says with a slight grin. “what’s going on?”
you point to his car. “there’s an issue with the engine cooling system. you need to recalibrate the sensors, or it’s going to overheat during the race.”
george raises an eyebrow. “and what would you know about that?”
you shrug, a playful smile on your lips. “i come with my dad to work almost everyday, i'd like to think i’ve picked up a few things.”
he laughs softly, shaking his head. “i guess i’ll trust you then. but i’m not sure if i should be worried about red bull’s tech advice.”
“don’t worry,” you reply, “i won’t sabotage you… too much.”
the banter flows easily between you, and there’s an undeniable chemistry that neither of you can ignore. but as you walk away, your mind starts to race. you’re intrigued by him—his dry wit, his easy smile—but you know better than to get too close. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and you’ve been raised to see them as the enemy, not a potential partner.
over the next few weeks, you and george find yourselves crossing paths more often. each meeting is brief, a stolen moment outside the paddock or in the midst of chaos during a race weekend. you talk about cars, racing strategies, and even your shared interests beyond the track. there’s an easy connection, a bond that grows deeper with every conversation.
the secrecy of your meetings becomes a burden. you’re both constantly looking over your shoulders, afraid of getting caught. the fear of your families finding out and the potential consequences of your secret relationship weigh on you. yet, with every stolen kiss and quiet exchange, your feelings for george only grow stronger. the risk of it all feels worth it when he’s around.
however, the stress of hiding the relationship begins to strain you both. george’s success on the track only adds pressure. every victory for him is a reminder of the ever-present distance between you two. your father’s disapproval weighs heavily on your conscience, and it’s starting to affect your work.
during a pivotal race, both teams face challenges—red bull’s strategy falters, and mercedes struggles with tire issues. you and george exchange secret messages, working together to help each other’s teams without crossing the line.
as both teams fight to salvage their positions, your collaboration becomes more than technical support—it’s a defiant stand against the rivalry. the race ends with both teams barely staying afloat, but you and george share a quiet triumph, knowing you made a difference.
the media catches on, and the truth comes to light. both families are shocked, but as they see the depth of your love, your father’s anger softens. slowly, the walls between red bull and mercedes begin to crumble.
you and george publicly announce your relationship, standing together before the media, no longer hiding. the rivalry may still exist, but your love has bridged the gap, and together, you step into a new chapter where love, not competition, drives you forward.
later, your father calls you and george into his office, a wry smile on his face. after a moment of silence, he looks at you both, then shrugs. “i suppose if you’re really in love, i can’t stop you. just know… i can’t promise i won’t use my daughter to sabotage mercedes from time to time.”
you and george laugh, and your father chuckles, his eyes softening. "but seriously," he adds, "i trust you both. just don’t make me regret it."
with that, the tension breaks, and for the first time, the future of both families feels a little brighter.
ʚ・carlos sainz
the press room was buzzing with the usual chatter—drivers answering questions, team principals looking sharp, and the sound of cameras clicking at every moment. you were there as part of your father’s entourage, the daughter of mclaren’s team principal. you’d been to countless media events, but today, something felt different.
the crowd parted as a familiar face made his way through: carlos sainz, ferrari’s star driver. his warm smile met yours from across the room. you’d seen him race plenty of times, but there was something about his presence that stood out today—something that made your heart beat a little faster.
you’d heard stories of how intense the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari was. it was ingrained in you from a young age, something your father had hammered into your head. he was fierce about his loyalty to mclaren, and he expected nothing less from you. but despite that, the moment your eyes met carlos’s, you felt an undeniable pull.
he smiled at you, as if recognizing that spark too, and before long, the two of you found yourselves chatting during a brief lull in the press event. he was charming, his wit sharp, and his dry humor caught you off guard. you laughed more easily than you expected, feeling the weight of your father’s expectations and the animosity between your teams fade away in the warmth of his presence.
“you know,” carlos said with a grin, “i’ve always thought mclaren had some of the best engineers. too bad we’re always on opposite sides of the fight.”
you smirked. “guess it’s more fun that way, isn’t it? keeps things interesting.”
the chemistry between you was immediate, and in that brief conversation, you realized you wanted more. but you couldn’t—could you? your father would never approve. ferrari and mclaren had been bitter rivals for as long as anyone could remember. still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something real between you and carlos.
over the next few races, you both found ways to keep in touch, meeting up in secret whenever possible. the stolen moments became your escape, a brief reprieve from the weight of being the daughter of mclaren’s team principal and the strain of hiding your growing feelings for a ferrari driver. every touch, every glance was like a silent promise, and with each passing day, it became harder to keep things a secret.
but the pressure was mounting. the media was getting more curious about the subtle tension between you and carlos. you had to be careful. every word, every action had to be carefully measured.
then came the race that changed everything. the tension between mclaren and ferrari reached its peak. your team was struggling—strategy issues, tire troubles, nothing was going according to plan. and then there was carlos, pulling off a brilliant move and clinching the victory for ferrari. the crowd roared, but for you, the noise faded into the background. all you could focus on was the moment he crossed the finish line, knowing you couldn’t stay hidden anymore.
you rushed through the chaos, your heart pounding in your chest. the cameras were everywhere, but you didn’t care. you didn’t think. you just ran. when you reached him, you didn’t hesitate. you jumped into his arms, and in one swift motion, he spun you around, laughing in joy.
the world saw it all. it was a moment of defiance—no longer hiding your love for him, despite everything you’d been taught about team loyalty and rivalry. the media exploded, cameras flashing as they captured the intimate moment. the tension between mclaren and ferrari had never felt more real, and yet, in that moment, it didn’t matter. you were with carlos, and that was all that mattered.
back at the paddock, you could feel your father’s eyes on you from the distance. he hadn’t yet approached, but you knew the storm was coming. when he finally did, his expression was unreadable, his jaw clenched in frustration.
“what the hell is this?” he demanded, his voice low but sharp.
you took a deep breath, walking toward him. “dad, i… i’m in love with him.”
for a moment, the silence stretched between you. then, your father’s gaze softened, just a little. he let out a long sigh, glancing back at carlos, who was now waiting a few feet away, watching the exchange with uncertainty.
“you really love him?” your father asked, his voice unsteady for the first time.
you nodded, meeting his eyes. “i do. it’s not a fling, dad. i promise you.”
he stood there for a long moment, his gaze flicking back and forth between you and carlos. then, in a move that surprised you, he chuckled—a little bitterly, but still, a chuckle.
“well, if you’re serious about this, i guess i can’t stop you,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “but don’t expect me to go easy on ferrari next season.”
you laughed, relief flooding through you. “deal.”
and just like that, the walls that had once seemed insurmountable between your world and carlos’s began to crumble. the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari wouldn’t disappear overnight, but maybe—just maybe—the future of racing didn’t have to be defined by the battles between teams.
as you stood there, hand in hand with carlos, you realized that love had bridged the gap. you weren’t just the daughter of mclaren’s team principal anymore. you were someone who had found something real, despite all the odds. and that was enough.
the road ahead would be challenging, but with carlos by your side, you were ready to face it all—together.
ʚ・charles leclerc
you’d spent your entire life draped in mclaren orange, fiercely loyal to your father’s team. everyone at the paddock knew you—not as just the team principal’s kid but as a sharp-tongued, quick-witted presence who had zero tolerance for nonsense. so, when charles leclerc, ferrari’s golden boy, casually strolled over during a media event and commented on your bold mclaren jacket, you didn’t miss a beat.
“bold choice for you to critique fashion,” you said, raising a brow. “didn’t you wear that same ferrari polo yesterday? or is it just your uniform now?”
charles blinked before breaking into a grin. “it’s called consistency, chérie. something mclaren might want to try with their cars.”
your jaw dropped, but his cheeky smirk made it impossible to stay annoyed. instead, you laughed. “touché, leclerc. but let’s see how consistent you are on track this weekend.”
it started with playful banter, but the more you ran into charles during race weekends, the more intrigued you became. beneath his smooth charm and the ferrari-red facade was a kind, passionate guy with dreams that matched yours. the chemistry was undeniable, and soon, stolen moments between press conferences turned into late-night conversations over text, and quiet dinners away from the spotlight.
every meeting felt like rebellion—not just against your father’s expectations but against the entire cutthroat nature of the sport. you’d grown up in this world of rivalries, but with charles, you started to see it differently. the sport didn’t have to divide people; it could bring them together.
still, you knew what you were risking. your father had built his career on the rivalry with ferrari, and your mother… well, she’d always been the level-headed one in the family.
the turning point came after a thrilling race in monaco. charles took p1 in a breathtaking finish, and as he climbed out of his car, the crowd roared. you stood at the edge of the podium celebrations, your heart racing—not for mclaren, but for him.
as he spotted you in the crowd, you didn’t care who was watching. you pushed past the cameras and ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him in front of everyone. the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.
later, when the footage made its inevitable rounds, your father called you into his office. his expression was thunderous, but before he could launch into a tirade, your mother interjected.
“oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “love is love. let her live her life.”
your father looked between you and your mother, his frustration melting into reluctant acceptance. “fine,” he said, sighing heavily. “but if this boy breaks your heart, i’ll have him banned from every paddock on earth. do you hear me?”
“loud and clear,” you said, grinning.
charles became more than just a rival driver; he became your partner. the road wasn’t easy—balancing the pressures of your families, the media, and the sport itself was a challenge—but together, you proved that love could transcend the boundaries of loyalty and rivalry.
in time, even your father warmed up to charles, admitting that maybe ferrari wasn’t entirely the enemy. your relationship became a symbol of change, inspiring others to see beyond the rivalries and focus on what truly mattered.
and as you stood with charles at the end of yet another race, hand in hand, you knew you’d crossed the finish line—not just for love but for a new chapter in both your lives.
ʚ・lando norris
you weren’t supposed to be here—not in the simulator room of a mclaren facility. as the daughter of ferrari’s team principal, you had absolutely no business wandering into enemy territory. but your father had dragged you to yet another pre-season media day, and curiosity (plus boredom) got the better of you.
what you didn’t expect was to find lando norris, slouched in the simulator seat, muttering under his breath as he reset for yet another lap.
“maybe if this sim wasn’t ancient, i wouldn’t be two-tenths off,” he grumbled, smacking the steering wheel in frustration.
you couldn’t help yourself. “ever thought about turning left for a change?”
lando’s head snapped up, startled, before his lips curved into a grin. “great. ferrari’s princess is here to give me driving tips. what’s next? you gonna show me how to do a pit stop?”
“someone has to,” you shot back, stepping into the room. “clearly, mclaren hasn’t figured it out yet.”
his laugh was genuine, softening the edges of his earlier frustration. “careful, or people will think you’re defecting.”
“oh, please,” you said with a smirk. “if i wanted to sabotage ferrari’s reputation, i’d just let you borrow one of our cars.”
what started as playful banter quickly spiraled into something more.
the teasing didn’t stop after that. you’d bump into him at races or media events, and without fail, lando always had something to say.
“so, which ferrari secret are you leaking today?” he’d whisper as you passed him in the paddock.
“wouldn’t you like to know?” you’d reply, raising an eyebrow.
but beneath the sarcasm, there was something else—an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t long before stolen moments turned into late-night chats, and teasing jabs softened into something deeper.
you started meeting in secret, far from the prying eyes of the paddock. sometimes it was at quiet restaurants in cities where races were held, other times it was just sitting on the tailgate of his rental car, talking about everything but racing.
“do you ever get tired of all the rivalry crap?” you asked one night, staring at the stars.
“all the time,” he admitted. “but i’ve got to say, it’s a lot more fun with you around. even if you’re technically the enemy.”
you rolled your eyes. “please. if i were the enemy, you wouldn’t still be here.”
the turning point came after a pivotal race. ferrari had a disastrous weekend—your father’s strategy calls backfired, and both cars finished far outside the points. meanwhile, lando claimed p1, his first win of the season.
you should’ve stayed in the ferrari garage, consoling your team and putting on a brave face. instead, your feet carried you to parc fermé, straight into lando’s arms.
“you’re not supposed to be here,” he teased, grinning as he pulled you into a hug.
“yeah, well, someone has to congratulate you properly,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest.
the cameras were everywhere, catching the moment as lando lifted you off the ground and spun you around. by the time your feet touched the ground, you knew there was no hiding anymore.
when your father saw the footage, his face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was physically possible. “you hugged him. on camera. at parc fermé,” he fumed, pacing the ferrari motorhome.
“yeah, dad, i did,” you said, arms crossed. “and i’m not sorry about it.”
your mother, sitting calmly in the corner, rolled her eyes. “oh, please, let them be. even if it’s… inconvenient.”
your father stopped pacing, glaring at her before turning to you. “fine. but if he breaks your heart, i swear i’ll sabotage his car myself.”
when you relayed the conversation to lando later, he laughed, pulling you close. “your dad’s terrifying, you know.”
“yeah, but he loves me,” you said with a grin. “and he’ll come around. eventually.”
lando kissed your forehead, his voice soft. “good, because i’m not going anywhere.”
ʚ・oscar piastri
the first time you met oscar piastri, it wasn’t under the most glamorous circumstances. as ferrari’s golden child, your father had sent you to oversee a joint project with mclaren, which was code for "keep an eye on the competition."
you were mid-yawn at the coffee machine in mclaren's hospitality area, waiting for the machine to finally churn out your much-needed cappuccino, when a voice interrupted you.
“some of us actually have work to do, you know.”
you turned, glaring at the culprit—none other than oscar piastri, standing there with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
“well, some of us need caffeine to tolerate said work,” you shot back, not budging.
he smirked. “right, because ferrari's success clearly hinges on how long you hog the coffee machine.”
“it’s only fair since mclaren’s been stealing all the glory lately,” you retorted, crossing your arms.
his laugh was low and unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “touché. but seriously, i need my coffee.”
you rolled your eyes but stepped aside, gesturing dramatically. “be my guest, glory-stealer.”
what started as sharp-witted banter evolved into something… else. the project forced you into countless meetings, strategy sessions, and shared moments of quiet in the paddock.
late nights at the track turned into debates about racing philosophies—he’d argue for precision, and you’d counter with passion. more than once, you’d find yourself splitting snacks when the paddock catering failed you both.
“you’re really committed to this whole ‘traitor’ thing, aren’t you?” he teased one evening, munching on a shared bag of chips.
“it’s called strategic sabotage,” you deadpanned, stealing another chip. “someone has to keep mclaren humble.”
he grinned, leaning a little closer. “you’re terrible at hiding your motives, you know.”
“and you’re terrible at hiding how much you love this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you.
he didn’t deny it.
after a grueling race weekend, where mclaren edged out ferrari in the standings, you found yourself in the paddock sulking with a bottle of water.
oscar appeared out of nowhere, slipping a folded piece of paper into your hand.
“don’t open it now,” he murmured before walking off, his usual nonchalant demeanor intact.
curious, you waited until you were alone to unfold it.
"we make a good team."
the words were simple, scribbled in his messy handwriting, but they hit you harder than you expected.
your flushed face must’ve been a dead giveaway because your father cornered you that evening.
“do you want to explain why you look like a lovesick teenager?” he asked, arms crossed.
you froze, trying to come up with a convincing lie, but he sighed before you could. “it’s piastri, isn’t it? of all the drivers—him?”
“it’s not—” you stopped yourself. lying wouldn’t work. “okay, yes, it’s him. and he makes me happy, dad.”
your father stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. finally, he muttered, “fine. but if he so much as breathes in the wrong direction, i'll send a hit out for him.”
you couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding you.
when you saw oscar later that night, you couldn’t resist telling him about your father’s “conditions.”
oscar grinned as he wrapped an arm around you. “i think i can live with that.”
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate
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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago
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It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.
There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.
Find their grave, and defile it.
It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.
As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.
——
Please.
Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.
You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.
“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.
My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.
Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”
Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.
Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.
“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”
I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.
“I will.”
When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.
——
“CONSTANTINE!”
“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.
“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”
Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.
“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”
John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.
“Go, go!”
——
Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.
“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”
Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.
“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”
That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.
She swallowed.
“She… had red hair?”
“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.
“To help. Please, will you let me help?”
Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.
The ice melts.
“Thank you.”
Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.
And then, he was proven wrong.
Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.
“Oh.”
The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.
Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.
“Is this… alright, your highness?”
Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.
“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”
He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.
——
Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.
“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.
“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.
“Of course.”
A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.
“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”
“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”
——
“I want their heads.” Danny says.
“We don’t kill.”
“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.
“Alright.”
“Constantine.”
Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.
“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”
“Hm.”
——
Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.
“How old are you, Phantom?”
“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”
“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”
She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.
“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”
Constantine swears.
Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.
Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.
Then, she gets up, and hunts.
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lale-txt · 3 months ago
Text
❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)
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Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.
a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)
tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor
wc: 3.7k
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Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.
With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 
It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 
What a blatant lie. 
Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).
Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.
You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.
“That’s my spot.”
Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 
He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 
“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.
For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 
“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 
This damn smile.
“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 
He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 
“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 
You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 
Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.
“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.
It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.
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In the midst of summer, you pity him. 
“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.
The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 
“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 
“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.
“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.
“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 
“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  
There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 
“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 
“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  
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By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 
He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.
Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.
A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.
Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 
The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.
You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 
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With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 
You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 
On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 
He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 
Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 
“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”
It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 
“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”
Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 
“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 
His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 
You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.
The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 
The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 
You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 
“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 
Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.
In his arms. 
Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 
He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 
And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 
“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 
“Damn right it is.” 
You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.
You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 
“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”
He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.
“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”
Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 
Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.
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xxchumanixx · 10 months ago
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Okay, Tim Bradford x reader, but the reader is a police captain and becomes the captain of the mid-wilshire division after Zoë and that one dude. They are married, and the reader is expecting?
It's Captain, baby
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Tim Bradford x wife!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being a little grumpy Word count: 879 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you like it. It was very fun to write and I really like the idea!
Enjoy!
It was meant as a surprise - really.
He knew you wanted to become a captain one day, so when the LAPD asked if you wanted to become the captain of mid wilshire, you instantly said yes.
That you'd be the captain of your own husband, slipped your mind in said moment, though.
You decided not to tell him 'for now', pushing the matter further and further away, until there was no further anymore - until the day you were supposed to start as captain.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea, risking that he'd have a heart attack or get mad, when he saw you - especially considering that you were six months pregnant, and your new position meant stress and pressure - something you weren't supposed to have until in at least about three months, when you were in labor.
Biting your lip and rocking on your heels, you nervously waited for Sergeant Grey to announce you.
The moment he'd say your name, Tim would find out - and he wouldn't like that you refrained from telling him beforehand.
But he was a professional - he wouldn't let you see any emotion on his face during roll call - no, he would tell you how he felt in detail afterwards, giving you an even more guilty conscience.
"And now, I'm happy to introduce our new captain: Y/N Bradford! Please give her a warm welcome." Grey announced, causing your heart to miss a beat, as your hands doubled their sweating.
Taking a deep breath, you entered the room, trying to avoid Tim's face - which, despite your supposition, showed the slightest bit of shock and anger - as you made your way to the pult.
Forcing yourself to smile at the numerous people applauding you, you braced yourself for the speech you had prepared.
"Hello, for those who don't know me yet, my name's Y/N Bradford - yes, I'm sergeant Bradford's wife, and yes, I am pregnant." you started nervously.
A fit of quiet laughter echoed through the crowd, lifting some of the weight off your shoulders.
"I'm proud to call myself captain of the mid Wilshire department." you continued, nodding slightly. "I started here as a rookie, thinking that I knew everything and could do everything. But I didn't - which is an important thing to realize. We're all here for one goal: the safety of our city."
Your eyes briefly found Tim's, his jaw clenched. He looked straight back at you, not even blinking.
"But that means, that we have to learn a lot, especially about ourselves. I know how hard you work for this goal, and I know what it takes to do so. I once was where you are now, and I will have your backs, no matter what. If there's something you wanna talk about - let me know. I'm here to support you, and it's an honor to be your captain. That's it."
They applauded again, causing your cheeks to turn pinkish. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, hands trembling a little, as you smiled at them.
They were your people now, they counted on you, and you'd do everything in your power, to never let them down.
When the room cleared, Tim was the only one still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest.
He was clearly angry.
Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to him, preparing yourself for his speech.
He stayed silent for a couple more moments, just staring at you, before he stood, hands on the table as he leaned towards you.
"Did you even plan to tell me at all?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed. It took all his might not to get too loud, trying to look calmer than he was as well.
His colleagues didn't need to know that he was angry - fuming even.
"Did you think about our baby? What if it's too dangerous - not to mention the stress! Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"
"I did want to tell you." you stated, biting your lip. "But I didn't know how to. I wanted to surprise you, but I pushed it further and further away. I thought it all through, and I'm gonna take it slow - no harm for the baby. Imagine my surprise when they asked me to become their captain - me of all people!"
He bit his lip as well, the corners of his mouth twitching treacherously. At least he wouldn't stay angry at you for long.
"Are you happy?" he wanted to know, glancing at your belly. It was getting harder each day to find something that covered it up at least a little.
Nodding, you pressed out a dry laugh. "I am, but I'm scared as shit." you admitted, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen.
"I mean, I wanted to become a captain for so long, but - how to captain? How does this work? It's like my mind suddenly just went blank."
He chuckled, keeping himself from kissing you in front of the curious eyes watching you - didn't they have any work to do?
"I'm glad you like it, baby." he said honestly, his lips wide in a proud smile, as you huffed, cocking a brow.
"It's Captain, baby."
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formulamar · 3 months ago
Text
she’s a ferrari - part 4
charles leclerc x yn!ferrari reader
fc: Addison Rae
summary: as a child, the great-grand daughter of Enzo Ferrari used to spend her weekends hanging around the paddock. but once she went off to university her appearances became rare. what happens when she starts working for Ferrari? and... one of the drivers steals her heart.
READ PART THREE HERE
DECEMBER 2023
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charlesleclerc16updates
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liked by forzararri and 2,372 others
charlesleclerc16updates: CHARLES AND YN RECENTLY!
120 comments
f1fan0: i’m so glad they’re not letting that silly article come between them 🫶
-> scunteriafer: exactly!!!! that article is ridiculous charles would never do something like that
cl16fan: favs 🥹💞
lechairs: was the second pic taken in monaco??
-> charlesleclerc16fan: italy
-> charlnor: OHHHHHHH 🤔
ynferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, fernandoalonso and 112,921 others
ynferrari: galaaaaaa ❤️‍🔥 big thank you to everyone who helped me organize this big event! it was my honor to plan it! had so much fun, see you next year!
8,532 comments
ynscousin: forza familia ❤️
liked by ynferrari
carlossainz55: Gracias for a great party, Yn!
-> ynferrari: thank you for your energy!!! love you carlitos!!!
tifosi1722: UR SO BEAUTIFUL YN
ynferrarifan08: most gorgeous hostesses ever
user: ruining our sport and our team
iamrebeccad: had so much fun 💞
liked by ynferrari
user: so now she’s just getting involved with everything huh...
ynbff: we love planner yn
charles_leclerc: Until next time❤️
liked by ynferrari
-> tifosi1722: SO CONTRACT RESIGNED OR WHAT????
-> charlnor: so there WILL be a next time then???
comments on this post have been limited
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JANUARY 2023
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rumorhasitf1
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liked by fernandofan97, charlesfan75 and 4,626 others
rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR CONFIRMED 🚨
The dream continues for Charles Leclerc in RED.
Leclerc and Ferrari have extended their contract.
430 comments
charlnor: living out his childhood dream 🥹
tifosi028: i’m so happy!!!! the team loves him
princecharles16: further proof he is il pridestinato ❤️❤️❤️❤️
f1fan5: LEGENDARY
charlesfan83: he's staying home :)
ferrarienthusiast38: GRANDEEEEEEE
f1fan33: i seriously can't imagine him anywhere else. life is good.
scuderiaferrari and ynferrari
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liked by F1, susie_wolff and 350,892 others
ynferrari: I've had the rare privilege of witnessing the beautiful madness of motorsport right in front of my eyes. I grew up running around on track, moving car sketches from the dinner table, holding the car parts by my fingerprints. A plethora of memories that, sure I adored, but for the longest time was unable to acknowledge the significance of.
It may sound silly but it wasn't until I was a teenager that I began to realize not everyone got to be so close to their favorite sport. When I turned fifteen I got into the habit of walking around the grandstands before the race started and talking with other girls my age. These conversations taught me a lot. At nearly every race, I would hear a variation of "It's my dream to drive an F1 car." After a chorus of "Mine too!" there would be an awkward realization that dream was nearly impossible to accomplish. Women, weren't widely accepted in motorsport. Being a female fan was difficult enough already. Imagine trying to be a driver?
Then, I did start to imagine. Young girls from all around the world dying to experience the adrenaline. Just once. To feel the champagne coat them. Just once. Or even to be able to sit in an F1 car. Just once. A small moment that could change their lives forever.
When Susie reached out to me and shared her aspirations for creating an all-female racing series, I knew it would restore hope in the dreams of young girls all over the world. When she offered me an opportunity to help make this a reality I never considered saying anything but yes. I'm overjoyed to join Prema Racing, F1 Academy and Susie on this journey. I only dream of witnessing other women experience what I have so many times, running on track, peeking at the sketches and touching the car so gently because you're afraid of breaking it. And even more, I hope they cross the finish line with an indescribable feeling pulsing through their bodies. I hope they all hear their anthem on the top step. We can make this happen. Thank you to everyone on this project, thank you Susie, thank you @/f1 and THANK YOU FAMIGLIA FERRARI! (Ferrari family)
147,982 comments
susie_wolff: What a beautiful post, YN. Thank you for believing in the vision.
-> ynferrari: ❤
cl16fan: i'm actually sobbing. i love you so much. thank you for doing this.
-> ynferrari: thank you for supporting it :)
lec4: this is amazing, you're amazing!!!!
lando_norris: ❤
-> lando_norris: btw I'm glad you get to put that degree to use. It looked difficult.
-> ynferrari: oh if you only knew...
ferrarifan62: you described it perfectly.
charlnor: ok did not expect to ball my eyes out first thing in the morning but god this is beautiful.
charles_leclerc: Can't wait to see everything you accomplish ❤️
-> ynferrari: ti amo ❤️
-> lechairs: so after seeing this interaction I started crying again
-> cl16fan: literally me too
lordpercevalfan: i love you girl. you left me speechless. i'm so excited to watch!!!
fernando_alonso: Muy orgulloso ❤ (very proud)
liked by ynferrari
charles_leclerc’s story
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⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩
formulaamar🎬: okay please don’t hate me… it’s been forever 😭😭😭 school and work have had me on a leash!!!!!! but here is the FINAL part of she’s a ferrari. i wasn’t originally planning on getting so emotional but i think it makes it special! i’ll try being more active :) REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!!
taglist 🌷🏷️: @agmoon03 @janeh22 @kindestofkings @ttokkisbee @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @lottalove4evelyn@1800-love-me@blushmimi @emryb @majasophieanna@heavy-vettel @tvdtw4ever @harrysdimple05 @chelle1306
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
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hihi mae!! in honor of the season, could i request reader convincing bodygaurd!james to carve pumpkins together. and it’s basically just him on the brink of cardiac arrest bc reader is using the biggest butcher knife possible, like an absolute menace, and he’s 100% convinced she’s gonna saw her fingers off lol. thx for considering ♡
Thank you lovely!!
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 814 words
James has half a mind to find you a plastic knife and let you make do with that. It might take you a while longer, yeah, but at least he wouldn’t have to feel every muscle in his body tense each time you stab the knife you’ve picked through your pumpkin. 
“I thought you were doing a cat,” he says, watching you push another piece out from what will be your pumpkin’s mouth. 
“I am.” 
“Why does it have fangs?” 
“It just felt like it should.” You shrug. “Sort of spookier that way, right? Maybe it’s a vampire cat.” 
“And here I thought it was going to be cute.” 
You smile at him. “No, Jamie. That’s yours.” 
With all his attention on making sure you don’t slash yourself, James has made pitifully little progress on his own pumpkin. He’s only managed to cut out the nose, but when he’s done it’s going to be a classic, smiling jack-o-lantern, except with hearts for eyes. You’d beamed and called it fitting when James told you his plan. He’s been ruminating over what you could have meant by that ever since. 
For his own project he’s using a small paring knife, mostly because he’d hoped you’d follow his example (what wishful thinking that was) but also because James doesn’t tend to do well with precision and he didn’t see a big knife helping matters. You, however, have selected what may be the largest knife he’s ever seen. He can’t comprehend what a beast that size would even be necessary for in a kitchen, much less for carving a pumpkin. Your unskilled grip on the handle makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. 
“I think we ought to find you a different tool,” he tries again. 
“James, you worry too much.” You roll your eyes, hardly looking as you shove your knife through the flesh of your pumpkin. He flinches. “This one is working fine.” 
“Right, I just feel like—” You do it again. James worries he’s developing an eye twitch. “—like possibly I’m not doing my job by letting you handle a weapon like that.”
“It’s not a weapon, it’s a kitchen knife.” 
Again, not a clue what in the kitchen could require a knife that large. 
“I think its capacity for injury is the same regardless, angel. Let me have it, please? That way I can keep working here and you can keep all of your fingers.” 
“You need to chill out,” you say, unnervingly serene for someone who seems to James on the precipice of life-changing injury. “This knife is the perfect size for how big I want my eyes to be. If I have to saw using another one, they won’t look as clean.” 
“Is that really worth risking your hand for?” 
“Yes. I want the triangles to look nice when I stick them onto the top as its ears.” 
“How are you going to do that?” 
“With toothpicks.” 
Right. A more moderate risk of injury, for sure, but James is now too high-strung to imagine anything other than disastrous outcomes between you and sharp objects. He imagines you skewering one of your lovely fingertips on a toothpick, the surprised look on your face when it happens. His own heart bursting straight out of his chest from overexertion. 
“Maybe I could do that part for you,” James suggests weakly. 
“Shit.” You’re looking into your hollow pumpkin. “The eye won’t come out.” 
“Let me try.” 
“No, I’ve got it.” 
Before he can stop you, you’re sticking your knife inside your pumpkin. It comes spearing out the other side a moment later, the triangle of one eye impaled on its tip. James chokes on a gasp as you stop it within inches of your abdomen. 
“There,” you say satisfiedly. 
James makes a strangled sound. “No,” he says, seizing your wrist and carefully removing the knife from your hand. “No, I can’t do it. We’re swapping.” 
“What?” You look at him with wide, wounded eyes. It’s adorable, compelling even, but James won’t allow himself to budge. “But your knife is so lame.” 
James guffaws. He feels half delirious. This is it, he thinks. His love for you has finally driven him insane. 
“It’s not lame.” 
You pout. “It’s tiny.” 
“Sweetheart.” James sets the knife down to hold your face in both hands. You go still with surprise. “If you stab yourself with your giant knife, I won’t be around to get fired. I’ll die of heartbreak. Do you understand?” 
You roll your eyes at him, but you’re softening. “You really like my hands that much?” 
“I like all of you. In tact. You’re perfect as you are.” 
“Fine, whatever.” You pull your face from his grasp, picking up the smaller knife. “I know you secretly just wanted to be the one with the bigger knife, though.” 
“Yeah, you’ve caught me. Can’t get anything past you.”
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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago
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Tom meeting reader at an event and he’s just flirting the whole night and ends up getting her number
i watched the golden globes and got inspired to write this! i hope you like it <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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If there was an award for "most nervous person in attendance" at the Golden Globes, you'd have won it by now.
Award shows never failed to make your stomach feel in knots the entire time, specially when you were nominated, like tonight.
The Great had been a huge breakout role, a period drama that had captivated audiences and critics. Now, you stood among the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, and you could feel your heart pounding as the moment of your category being announced approached.
"Love, are you okay?" you heard a voice calling for you, turning your head you realized that it was Dua (yes, the Dua Lipa) who was sitting next to you.
"Just a bit nervous," you told her with a small smile, "I think I'll head backstage for a minute, I need a breather."
She assured you with another smile and you made your way backstage, a commercial break started just on cue.
You had rehearsed your acceptance speech a dozen times in case you won, and also had a pep talk ready in case you didn't, yet the nerves persisted. You knew you were competing against some big names, and whatever the result people online would have something to say.
Your train of thought was interrupted by your body colliding with someone, almost dropping your clutch in the process.
"Whoa there, careful," a voice chuckled, catching your arm.
"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," you said, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, of course you'd run into someone in classic romcom cliche style.
"No harm done. You alright?" he grinned and you recognized him, it was the man who had been flooding your Tiktok for you page for the past month, Tom Blyth, "I'm Tom, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, I'm YN," you smiled back, "And yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit nervous about my category. Oh you're presenting it, aren't you?"
"I'll have the privilege, yes," his charm effortlessly showed, "And just so you know, I'm rooting for you. You were phenomenal in The Great, one of my favorite shows I watched last year."
Your nerves seemed to ease a bit, his presence and charm making you relax. There was something about him that felt comforting, even though it was your first time meeting him.
"Thank you, that's really nice," you smiled at him, "But I don't want to get too confident, the other nominees are just as great."
"Honestly, I'd bet my hat you're taking that Golden Globe home tonight."
Tom squeezed your arm gently and you smiled again, and before another word could be exchanged, a crew member's voice echoed through the backstage area announcing that the show was back from commercial break in 30 seconds.
"Well, looks like it's showtime" Tom glanced towards the exit, then back at you. "Knock 'em dead out there, YN. You got this."
"We'll see."
With a final wink sent your way, you parted ways. You returned to your seat and tried to enjoy the ceremony as much as you could, your nerves still in the back of your head but your interaction with Tom making you feel more at ease now.
"And now, presenting the award for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy, please welcome The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes star, Tom Blyth!"
You heard the host say and you knew t was time, and once again a wave of nerves and uncertainty filled your body.
The crowd erupted in applause as Tom stepped onto the stage, his confidence and charm shinning through.
"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight among such incredible talents," Tom smiled, "Here are the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series, Musical or Comedy."
A video played showing all the nominees but you felt like your mind was numb, you didn't even realize it had ended until Tom's voice was heard again.
"And the Golden Globe goes to," he paused for suspense, and you could see a small smirk making its way to his face as he read the name, "YN!"
Time seemed to freeze, you tried to process everything as you heard the applause from the crowd and those around you congratulating you and before you knew it, you were on stage taking the award from Tom's hands and giving him a quick hug.
"I told you." He quietly whispered in your ear and gave you a wink, a moment that the cameras had caught.
You gave your speech, thanking your cast mates, directors, family, friends and the rest of the nominees. Once you were done you headed backstage with a proud smile and your newest award in hand.
The night went on and you definitely enjoyed every minute of it, mingling with other actors and thanking everyone who approached to congratulate you.
Once the ceremony wrapped up, you headed to the after party, you were sipping on a fruity drink by the bar when you felt a presence behind you.
"Hey, can I steal a moment with the newest Golden Globe winner?"
You turned around noticing it was Tom, he had changed to a different suit and you couldn't help but think that he looked really handsome.
"Sure, what do you need, president Snow?" you laughed, feeling a newfound confidence around him.
"How about your number? I'd hate to lose touch with Hollywood's latest sensation." Tom flashed his charming smile again, taking you by surprise and making your entire body feel giddy.
"Smooth, Blyth. Very smooth." Blushing furiously, you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Well, when you really really want something, smooth comes naturally."
And just like that, after winning a major award for your career and feeling on top of the world, you found herself exchanging numbers with Tom Blyth, excited to see where that would take you.
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alisonfelixwrites · 9 months ago
Text
one shot: something blue (*) [harry styles au]
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summary: in which harry & lavender are best man and maid of honor at their best friend's wedding and don't get along whatsoever - which makes planning this wedding very interesting
word count: 20,613
warnings: enemies to lovers, lavender's 'best friend' being a huge bitch, smut! (fingering (female receiving), oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex)
author's note: another repost from my wattpad :)) this isn't new, but i still love it so much!!
“Oh my god, Serena…” Lavender could hardly contain her tears as she looked through her blurry eyes, her best friend in a pearly white gown beaming at her.
“Do you like it?” Serena checked and Lavender burst out in something between laughing and crying, “Of course I like it!” Lavender cried, getting up her feet to quickly hug her friend.
“Wait!” Serena pushed against her shoulders, “God, you almost got make-up on my dress.” She giggled. Lavender wiped her tears and smiled too, shaking her head in disbelief, “You look incredible.” She whispered, “Honestly, the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
Serena grinned, “You’re only saying that because you’re my maid of honour.” She teased and Lavender shook her head while still smiling, “Absolutely not. Tristan is going to die when he sees you.”
Serena turned around to inspect herself in the large mirror in the bridal shop. Lavender stood back with a glass of champagne in her hand, ready to take a sip until Serena tutted her, “Weren’t you supposed to call the florist and the caterer later today?”
Lavender raised her brows, “Uh – yes?”
“Well,” Serena turned around and gently took the flute from Lavender’s hand to put it down, “then you should stay sober.”
Lavender rolled her eyes, “One glass is not going to get me plastered.” She muttered. 
“God, I can’t believe the wedding is in two weeks.” Serena sighed. Lavender smiled along, although her heart slightly ached. It was only June and the wedding being next week also meant she took up her final vacation days at her job to spend the time preparing for Serena’s wedding.
She’d have to go the remainder of the year without paid leave. No holidays for her this year but at least she – hopefully – gave her friend a kickass wedding. Lavender stared at Serena’s slender body with the white, silky dress now completely fit to her size. They had done the final measurements a while back and now the finished product was here.
“Hey, try on your bridesmaid dress now that you’re here?” Serena suggested, looking at Lavender through the mirror, “Brit and Jackie already did so through the weekend but you weren’t here.”
It sounded like a bit of a jab, and Lavender swallowed. Throughout the weekend she had actually been doing some work which she was falling behind on due to the preparations of this wedding.
Besides, she had a love-hate relationship with the bridesmaid dress she was supposed to wear and no matter how much she loved Serena, she felt teeny tiny standing next to her in a dress.
Serena decided on picking a lavender colour for her bridesmaids. Lavender cried all night when she got that news. It had always been her dream to get married in a lavender-shaded dress one day because – well, it was her name and it was fitting. Ever since birth, she somehow had the feeling she was the only person allowed to own the colour lavender.
Serena thought differently and picked that shade for the bridesmaids gowns, making Lavender feel like she’d be copying her if she ever chose that for her wedding dress. She forced Serena a smile through the mirror, “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“It’s not.” Serena frowned, “Lav, we had to get it redone because you gained weight. It needs to be perfect, it can’t be like… too tight or anything.”
Lavender’s cheeks heated a bit at the comment and she eventually nodded, “Yeah, okay. ‘M not wearing heels though.”
Serena clacked her tongue, “Number one mistake when visiting a shop like this. Always wear heels.”
Lavender rolled her eyes and contained her frustration. She loved Serena to bits. They met in the sorority where Lavender only stayed for about a week before she dropped out because of how crazy it was. Her and Serena stayed friends all throughout college and after. Even if Serena always overshadowed Lavender, there was a lot of love there. 
So much, that Lavender was the reason Tristan and Serena met. The story was funny but also slightly terrible. Lavender and Tristan matched on Tinder and went on one date. It was quite clear they weren’t meant to be and when he went to drop her off at her front door, he met up with her then-roommate which was Serena at the time. They met and instantly hit it off, which is how Lavender’s best friend was now engaged to be married to the man she once went on a date with.
It came as no huge surprise when Serena asked Lavender to be her maid of honour. And Lavender was honoured to say the least, until Serena apparently also wanted her to do the entire wedding planning.
And if that wasn’t horrible enough, she had to do it with the best man. Who was a pain in her ass to put it lightly. He was snibby, arrogant and a complete asshole. 
Harry Styles.
Lavender shuddered just thinking about him and bile rose up in her throat. When they first met, her heart skipped a beat because he was downright gorgeous. But the moment he opened his mouth and started talking, she was turned off. He was a jackass, kind of like Tristan turned out to be and kind of how Serena could also be every once in a while. 
Harry and Lavender had spent a lot of time together in the past six months, but it usually ended up in screaming matches and slamming doors. They didn’t seem to see eye to eye on anything and it had fucked up the wedding planning tremendously. Harry also always found a way to blame Lavender for everything that went wrong and then she got the full of it from Serena.
Lavender locked herself in a dressing room to try on her gown. She wasn’t wearing the right underwear for the dress either, something Serena would definitely comment on.
Her red hair was in curls and she quickly took a clip to get it out of the way while hoisting herself in the lavender dress. It had thin straps over her shoulders and a rather low back. Lavender tugged on the dress a bit as she inspected herself and then walked out of the dressing room. Serena still stood in front of the mirror to admire herself and a smile graced her face when she laid eyes on Lavender, “Oh, you look stunning.”
“Thanks.” Lavender breathed as she stood next to Serena, pushing up on her toes to see how the dress would look once she wore heels.
“Did you lose weight again?” Serena checked, eyes glued to Lavender’s chest where the dress fell a little wide. Lavender glanced down, “Uh – yeah. I think so.”
“God, Lav… I can’t keep adjusting this dress for you.” Serena complained and Lavender shook her head, “No, I’ll – uh… I’ll just wear a push-up bra.”
“You can’t wear a bra, it’s an open back.”
“Well, then I’ll find a stick-on bra or something.” Lavender shrugged, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”
“And please, don’t forget nipple covers. I don’t need Tristan to look at anyone’s tits but mine that day.”
Lavender chuckled, “Right. Okay, noted.”
Serena nibbled her lip, “You seriously think he’ll like it? I mean, we aren’t getting married too fast, are we?”
Lavender frowned and placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulders, “What are you talking about? Of course not. Who said that?”
Serena avoided her eyes and Lavender exhaled, “Was it your mum?” She guessed. It came as no surprise that Serena wasn’t always the nicest person to be around. Lavender forgave her the moment she got to know her parents. They were horrible, to say the least. Serena swallowed, “Well, we’d only been dating a year before he proposed a-“
“And what?” Lavender frowned, “S., if it feels good, you don’t necessarily have to wait.” She shrugged, “You two love each other, right?”
“Yeah.” Serena sighed before she pressed her lips together. Lavender tilted her head to the side, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Serena, come on. Don’t lie to me, I know you better than that.” Lavender pushed. Serena crossed her arms, “It’s just – what if I meet someone else one day?”
Lavender blinked and continued frowning, “Like… Meet someone else in a romantic way?”
“Yes.” Serena whispered and Lavender needed a second before she spoke, “Well – you’re in love. I-I’d imagine you’d only have eyes for Tristan so it won’t even matter.”
Serena rolled her eyes, “Clearly, you don’t know what it’s like.”
Lavender ignored the dig and swallowed, “Do you not feel like he’s your soulmate?”
“I don’t know.” Serena sighed, “Just – forget I said anything.” Her eyes dropped to Lavender’s chest anymore, “I truly can’t alter this dress anymore, Lav. Try to keep your weight stable the next two weeks before you flash everyone at my wedding.”
Serena taking that tone and being the mean girl was her defence mechanism and Lavender tried to not take it to heart. She simply nodded and headed back to change out of her dress once more. It was Saturday and the afternoon would be spent with calling everyone up to check for the wedding. She also had another appointment at the venue with Harry.
They had to put something together as best man and maid of honour and couldn’t agree what it was for the life of them. The moment Harry suggested a stripper – at a wedding – Lavender knew it’d be a hard task to find a middle ground. 
“Serena, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Lavender called as she was dressed again and her phone was blowing up, the caterer calling her for the third time. Serena said something back from behind the curtain of her dressing room and Lavender took it as her cue to leave.
She was on the phone the moment she stepped outside and ran towards her car. It was hot and warm in the UK but the rain was coming down. Her curls would explode once more and Lavender quickly found shelter in her car as she started the drive up to the wedding venue.
Of course, Tristan and Serena decided to get married in the middle of nowhere, booking an entire hotel with the venue next to it so all the guests could sleep over and join them for breakfast the next morning. 
It did mean it was a car drive of a few hours to actually get there. Lavender decided to take that time to call the florist and the caterer. The florist had been a pain in the ass because Lavender had specifically asked for dried flowers to use in the venue so they wouldn’t have to all be thrown out. Guests could maybe take a little dry flower bouquet with them as a reminder of the day. 
Serena did want a bouquet of fresh flowers and apparently that’s where it got hard. The communication wasn’t amazing and Lavender called them from her car to set the mistake straight. Next was the caterer, who didn’t understand how many vegetarian plates they had to make. Lavender tried to pay attention to traffic and her conversations as the drive continued.
The moment she exhaled a sigh once the call with the caterer had ended, the devil himself called her up.
Lavender rolled her eyes to herself, harshly gripping the steering wheel as she answered the call through Bluetooth, “Yes?” She questioned.
“Hello to you too.” Harry’s deep voice echoed through her car and Lavender exhaled a short breath, “What do you want?”
He huffed out a breath, “Sounds like you’re having a good Saturday. I’m at the venue, where the hell are you?”
“I’m on my way.” Lavender frowned, checking the time, “We said to meet at three.”
“No, we said to meet at two.” Harry sounded frustrated, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
Lavender closed her eyes for a split second as she swallowed, “Look, I’m actually almost there. In like… twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?!” He exclaimed, “You’re fucking late, Lav. What the hell.”
“I’m sorry! Look, I swear I thought we said three.” She groaned, “I-I can’t check right now, I’m driving. I’m sorry, okay? I-I’ve had a million things going on this morning. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, promise.”
“It’s pouring rain and I’m hungry.”
She rolled her eyes once more, “Then wait in your car.”
“You’re such a b-“ She ended the call before he could finish his sentence. 
“Fucking dick.” Lavender mumbled. She definitely didn’t look forward to seeing Harry. He got on her nerves like nothing else and she felt like he’d been against her from the start. They didn’t agree on a single thing about this wedding. Every little surprise Lavender wanted to put in for Serena, he called corny. Every surprise he wanted for Tristan, she called disgusting.
Harry sat brooding in his car in front of the venue. The sun was shining in his eyes but there was so much rain too, near blinding him as the sun reflected on the street he was parked on.
He checked the time again, realizing he had been sitting here for nearly half an hour waiting for Lav. He hated that about her. She was usually late but then made it a point to plan their agenda so strictly. Harry was the one on time, she was always late.
He stifled a yawn and shifted in his car seat, near falling asleep until he saw a car approaching. Lavender’s grey Peugeot slowed down until coming to a stop in front of him, parallel parking like a pro in one swift movement before she got out. Her red hair was wild and untamed and her eyes were storming tornados as she glared at him through the car window, “Well?!” She gestured, shaking her head to herself as she marched up to the venue.
Harry huffed and exited the car, braving the rain as he hurried behind Lavender to the front entrance of the venue.
It came as no surprise to Harry that he disliked Lavender. After all, he disliked Serena and Lav was her best friend. Tristan was blinded but Harry wasn’t. Serena was a huge bitch who changed Tristan a lot. He was lovesick for her and jumped into this marriage way too quickly. To Harry, Serena was the devil. She was a rich, mean, spoiled girl and Lavender was no different.
So he took every opportunity to be a bother to Lavender and get on her nerves. It was the only pleasure he had these days, coming to terms with the fact that he was losing his best friend. Him and Tristan had been close since they were toddlers so Harry wasn’t too shocked when asked to be his best man. In two weeks, he’d lose him forever and he had no plans in striking up a friendship with Serena nor Lavender.
Lavender wore blue jeans, old trainers and a black shirt as she hurried into the venue, unlocking the little key box with the code she received from the owners. Harry shivered once he was also inside, glancing around the space now that he was out of the rain.
Lavender closed the thick, wooden door behind them as she stood in the entryway of the venue. 
“Okay, so… there’s a huge chance it’s going to rain on their wedding so we need to take a look at how we can do this if that’s the case.” Lavender spoke, looking around the entryway.
Harry yawned and followed her eyes with little interest, “They could stand there for pictures.” He pointed.
“The light is off.” Lavender commented, “It’s going to be a little later than it is right now so the light will be coming from there. I think the other wall is better suited.”
Harry simply shrugged and Lavender took her phone to take a few pictures and then typed something in her notes-app. She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, “By the way, I fixed things with the florist and the caterer.”
“There were issues with the florist and the caterer?”
Lavender glared at him, “Yes. It – God, do you even pay attention when I say anything?!”
Harry bit his tongue and didn’t respond. He felt Lavender’s hand nudging his shoulder, “Go stand against that wall.”
He sighed out with little enthusiasm but did as she asked, “Why?”
“I’m going to take a picture to see what’s the best spot.” Lavender held up her phone and then arched up an eyebrow, “You could at least smile. I’m turning this into your contact photo.”
At that, Harry held up his middle finger. Lavender rolled her eyes and snapped the picture, “Now over there.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He mocked and did as she asked, leaning against the other wall as Lavender took another picture. She puckered her lips, “Look,” She turned her phone towards Harry, “if there’s sun, that second option is better. If there’s not, the first wall is better.”
“Okay, so what do we pick?”
“I suppose we’ll see the morning of the wedding. Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain too much. The hotel is like a ten minute walk and we’ll all be soaked if we have to do that in the rain.”
Harry smirked, “Tristan said the bridesmaids wear backless gowns so that means no bra?”
“You’re disgusting.” Lavender muttered, turning to face the space. “We’ll have to rearrange those tables too.”
“Why?” Harry slowly walked behind Lavender, smelling the scent that fit her name perfectly lingering around her as she took in the room, “Because there’s going to be a band and they take up more space than a deejay.” She then turned to face him, “You did contact the band about the number for the first dance, right?”
Harry scratched the back of his neck, feeling pride bubble up inside himself when he realized he could rile up Lavender so easily, “Was I supposed to do that?” He faked confusion. He saw the familiar blaze in Lavender’s eyes as her jaw clenched, “Yes.” She tried to stay calm, crossing her arms in front of her chest and making her tits press together, “You were. Serena wants a specific version of that song with just the guitar. Not the regular version.”
“Hm.” Harry slowly nodded, “Yeah, I guess I could give them a call.”
Lavender threw her head back with a groan, “You should’ve already given them a fucking call, Harry.” She hissed, “If they refuse or we don’t get to hear the new version in advance, Serena will kill us.”
“She’ll kill you.” Harry corrected her, “Those long ass nails aren’t coming anywhere near me.”
Lavender stared at him with pure anger radiating from her. He looked so fucking uninterested. His eyes were a little hooded, his jaw clenching with each bite on the gum he no doubt had between his teeth. Harry was always fucking chewing gum. His jaw flexed every time he spoke and it just made her want to claw his fucking eyes out.
He wore a button-up that showed off some of his tattoos, the cross pendant glimmering in the sunlight shining through the large windows as he turned, running a hand through his chestnut curls. He did that thing where he twisted the top part a little bit around his finger, as if hoping it’d stay like that once he let go. His bouncy hair had a mind of its own though and especially today, that one curl continued falling over his forehead no matter how often he pushed it away.
“So if we move those tables.” Lavender sighed, “There’s more room for the band without making the dancefloor smaller.”
“But won’t the tables be too close together?” Harry argued. Lavender tilted her head to the side, “We’ll try. C’mon, help me move that table.”
Harry didn’t seem to jump with joy at the idea but did as she asked nonetheless, moving one of the round tables to sit a little closer to the other.
“So if you sit here, and I sit here.” Lavender pulled back one of the chairs, her back facing Harry’s back who was at the table they just moved, “That’s fine, right?”
He glanced over his shoulder, the backs of their chairs almost touching, “Mhm. But if I need a wee…” He made it a point to scrape his chair back to get up, harshly bumping into the back of Lavender’s head who’s chair scooted up from the sole force he used. She yelped slightly, the cutlery on the table cluttering as Harry bit his lip to stifle his giggle.
Lavender glared at him, “Let’s hope everyone’s polite enough to not need a fucking wee in the middle of dinner then.”
“Right. Sorry, forgot Serena is the queen.” Harry rolled his eyes and got up, pushing the chair back underneath the table. Lavender got up too, “I just want the day to be perfect for her.”
“Lav, there’s bound to be mishaps. No wedding is perfect.” Harry shrugged and Lavender huffed, “Well, Serena wants it to be and I have to task to make sure it is. How’s Tristan, by the way?”
Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes low, “He’s – uh… Yeah, ‘m trying to convince him to blow the entire thing off.”
“What?!” Lavender squeaked and Harry hummed. Lavender took a step closer to him, “Y-You’re kidding me, right?”
“Definitely not. I don’t want those two to get married, Lav. She’s ruining him.”
“Harry.” She shoved at his shoulder in pure shock and he stumbled back a bit with a sputtering laugh, “What are y-“
“Tell me you’re fucking joking!” Lavender spoke in a shrill voice, “Y- What the fuck?! You’re trying to ruin this entire wedding?”
Harry chuckled and shook his head, “Don’t get your panties in a knot, princess. He’s not gonna back out, he’s too much of a wimp for that. But if he does,” His hand curled around her wrist of the hand that was still on his shoulder and he pushed her back, “I’ll find a way to blame it on you.” He teased.
“God – I fucking hate you.” Lavender seethed, “You’d really stand in the way of their happiness?!”
“Happiness?” Harry let out a humourless laugh as he took a step closer to Lavender, “Do you think they’re happy?”
“Yes.” She bit.
Harry arched up an eyebrow and took another step closer, Lavender taking one back until she bumped into one of the chairs. Harry was right in front of her, grabbing her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “Look me in the eye,” he said, Lavender breathing in the spearmint on his breath as he dropped his eyes to her parted lips for a moment, “look me in the eye and tell me you think they’re happy.”
Lavender swallowed and mustered up the courage to stare into the dark green of Harry’s eyes, “They’re happy.” She spoke. The corner of his lip turned up into a small smile, “You hesitated, Lav.” He tutted.
“Did not.” She shook her head out of his grip, “Now step back and let’s continue.”
“You should really be less tense.” Harry ignored her previous words, “I mean, I know Tristan chose to fuck your friend over you, but I’m sure we can find you someone at the wedding.” 
Lavender pushed at his chest and Harry stumbled back again, seeing the angry and hurt look on Lavender’s face. He sighed out while smiling, rolling his eyes, “Lav, I was joking.”
“You’re not fucking funny.” She fumed, “Let’s just continue so I can get the fuck out of here. I’m this close to knocking your teeth out.” She was shaking in anger. Lavender angrily stepped up to the dance floor and looked around, “This is big enough, isn’t it?”
Harry trailed behind a little, “Well, they’ve got a whole routine down with a bunch of steps, so I don’t know. If there’s people watching on the sidelines, it might be a tight squeeze. Serena wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they block her dancing.”
“I hope that’s you.” Lavender muttered before she put her hands on her hips, “Well, we can’t move any more tables, I think. And the band needs to go there.” She pointed to the side.
Harry shrugged, “It’ll be fine. Just relax.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Lavender sneered, “That fixed me.”
Harry rolled his eyes, leaning against one of the tables, “Are you always this fucking uptight? Jesus Christ. No wonder Serena’s such a bitch if she keeps hanging out with you.”
“Well, you’re a coward!” Lavender shouted back. Harry glared at her, “What did you just fucking call me?”
“A coward.” Lavender hissed, taking a step towards him again. Harry clenched his jaw, “Princess, I’d stay there if I were you.”
“Oh yeah?” Lavender taunted, “What are you fucking going to do about it, hm? Cry in a corner, like you’ve been doing for the past six months because your best friend is moving on and taking big steps in his relationships – which you’re way too immature for? You’re just fucking jealous.”
Harry’s hand reached out to grab her chin again, harshly holding her in place, “Shut up.” He hissed.
Lavender felt the pain in her face but hardly cared, even having to fight her smirk, “Hit a nerve, did I? ‘S not my fault you’re not even half the man Tristan is. You’re a fucking child, but it’s very low that you’d stand in the way of your friend’s happiness.”
Harry’s jaw ticked, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lav. He’s not here. Still hoping he’d drop Serena for you?” His eyes then darted over her figure, “Who would… Seems like he made the right choice. You’re both fucking insufferable but at least she’s hot.”
“Fuck you.” Lavender shoved at his shoulders and Harry took a few steps back. Lavender was panting, everything in her stance screaming that she was ready to actually murder him. Her shoulders were trembling and she turned around briskly to not let him see the tears in her eyes.
“Get out.” Lavender spoke, snatching the key from the table. Harry huffed, “There’s way more we need to check here, Lav.”
She shook her head, “I don’t care. Get out.”
“Seriously? Oh come on, y-“
“Harry, get the fuck out.” She hissed. He didn’t budge and raise his brows before sputtering out a chuckle, “Fuck, you’re so sensitive.” He complained, “And then you call me a child.”
“Fine. You lock up then.” She threw the key at him and turned around, walking out. Harry watched her swaying hips and the bounce in her red curls as Lavender stormed out of the wedding venue. She didn’t seem to mind that it rained, perhaps it dosed some of the angry fire lit within.
He chuckled to himself and took his time locking up. By the time he got to his car, hers was already gone. He shifted in the car seat, running a hand through his slightly wet hair before looking down to the bulge in his pants. He exhaled shakily and shook his head, “Nope. Not doing that again.” He forced his mind to go anywhere but the angry glare in Lavender’s warm eyes as she cursed him out.
Harry disliked her tremendously, but playing with her was fun. Dare he say it was the highlight of his life these days. Lavender made fun of it, but he actually was pretty heartbroken in losing his best friend. He knew Tristan would disappear the second he married Selena. She’d get her manicured claws all over him and keep him at bay, and Harry would be without his best bud.
Lav called him childish, he preferred calling it adapting. And so he put all his anger and stubbornness into arguing with Lavender. She was an easy target, riled up so quickly if he undermined her or went against her schedule surrounding this wedding. Harry secretly enjoyed it, and so did his body.
His cheeks turned red when he remembered the last time they had a heated fight like this. She stormed out the same way after they planned to meet up in his apartment to go over a few things. The picture frames on the walls rattled as Lavender had slammed his door shut on her way out. Only a minute later, Harry laid blissed on his bed with his hands in his boxers and his hand wrapped around his wet, hard cock. 
He imagined angry, fast and rough sex. He imagined her red hair wrapped around his fist, her eyes tearing and rolling back as he got her off. He imagined how quickly he’d be able to get her off. He imagined how she’d taste and if she was as feisty in bed as with her words. He imagined her mouth being good for far more than just pissing him off. 
He imagined shutting her up and fucking her so hard she couldn’t walk. 
Who was he kidding earlier, of course she was hot. Beautiful, actually. And she was right when calling him a coward. It’s why it stung so bad, Harry thought he was hiding that better. 
Harry didn’t see her again until the rehearsal dinner, two days before the wedding. He ended up giving into her idea and doing a little interlude in the reception where they’d play a game with Serena and Tristan to check how well they knew each other, as well as show some embarrassing pictures of their childhoods and predict what their kids would look like.
He laid eyes on a visibly tired Lavender. Her red hair was curly and untamed, yet she tried with a claw clip at the back of her head. Just a few little strands of curls came out to frame her face. She wore white linen pants and a dark blue crop top, her hands holding a bunch of bags. Serena trailed behind her in a tight dress, smiling and waving at everyone. 
“Hey, mate.” Tristan widely smiled at him as he gave him a hug. Harry hugged him back, “Hey. How was the drive?”
Tristan ran a hand through his blonde hair and sat down, “Good, it was fine. Serena and Lav were talking a bunch about dresses and I sort of zoned out.” He chuckled, “Have you been here long?”
Harry shook his head, “No, like thirty minutes. It’s only my first drink.” He smirked. Tristan hummed and stared at the glass of scotch in Harry’s hand, “Order me one of those, ‘m gonna bring our stuff to the room.”
“Will do!” Harry called as Tristan walked off to head into the direction of the hotel rooms. The close friends and family were staying here for tonight, tomorrow and then on Sunday was the wedding. Harry had left work a little early today to drive up here by himself, needing the time to think a little. 
Mostly think of how he’d stay away from Lavender. Option one was not drinking anything and staying sober to keep a clear mind – hoping she did the same – so he could avoid her. Option two was simply finding someone else to obsess over the next few days and to sleep with.
He had these thoughts as he sat with an alcoholic drink in his hand, and the second option was out the window the moment she walked into the bar. She was dressed in the same clothes as before but had no bags on her hands. Harry’s eyes followed her as she stood at the bar, “A cup of coffee, please.” Her voice sounded raspy.
Harry took a sip of scotch, “Hey.” He spoke. Lavender glanced at him over her shoulder, “Hi.” She shortly responded.
His eyes lingered on the curve of her waist before he tore his eyes away. He desperately stared at the entrance door, hoping some hot piece would walk in and he’d be more attracted to her than to Lavender.
She cupped her hands around the steaming cup of coffee and scanned the bar for a free seat until Harry cleared his throat, “You can sit here.”
“Fine. As long as you don’t talk to me.” Lavender grumbled, sitting down. Harry sloshed the drink around in his glass as he leaned to the side in the comfortable seat, “You look tired.”
Lavender burned her tongue on her coffee and ignored him. Harry stared at her for a moment, “By the way, can you come by my room later f-“
“Harry, I swear to god – if you’re going to keep talking I’m going to sit somewhere else.” Lavender sighed. He flicked his eyes up to see her tired gaze and huffed out a chuckle, “Really? Where? Think I’m your best bet here, baby.”
She scrunched up her nose, “Ew. Don’t call me that.” And then Lavender glanced around the space to find an empty seat. Harry smiled in amusement, “How about there? Tristan’s younger brother and his mates. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you in their circle.” He teased.
Lavender saw the twenty-one year old group of frat boys hanging around and drinking beers. Tristan was near a decade older than his brother and Lavender quickly decided it wasn’t a good idea. 
“Or there? Serena’s mother seems like a delight.” Harry mocked and Lavender huffed, “If you hate Serena, you’re going to want to kill her mother. And I’m not going to sit there because she doesn’t like me either.” She shot Harry a fake smile, “Look at that, I’m surrounded by people who hate me.”
She took another sip and sighed, “I’m just going to go have this in my room.”
“Hey, stop by later.” Harry spoke again, “We need to go over our speeches so we don’t mention the exact same stuff.”
“What room are you in?” Lavender got up. Harry fought his smirk, “302.”
“Alright. I’ll stop by on my way to Serena’s room for the dinner party.”
He nodded, “Okay. See you.”
Lavender didn’t say anything but simply left. Harry downed the rest of his drink and ordered another, feeling like he truly needed alcohol to get through this night.
He was half dressed for the rehearsal dinner when someone knocked the door. With just his slacks on, he took a look at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles once before going to open the door. Lavender was in a dark red mini dress, clinging to her curves. The neckline was high and her hair was up, a row of simple gold hoops in her ear.
In her hands, she held a creamy dress which Harry suspected belonged to Serena. Lavender closed her eyes and exhaled a breath, “Can you put on a goddamn shirt?”
“Why?” Harry smirked, “Are my abs turning you dizzy?”
Lavender rolled her eyes, “Look, I have my speech here.” She strode into the room, her hips swaying from the height of her heels. She wore a little bit of make-up but not enough to hide the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Harry slipped on a white button-up shirt and took the folded up paper from Lavender’s hand, who went to sit down on his bed.
Harry sat on the chair by the desk to read over her speech, but frowned halfway through, “Lav, this is boring as fuck.”
“What?” She frowned, “No, it’s not. It’s… well – it’s what Serena wanted.”
Harry flicked his eyes up, “She gave you pointers for your speech?”
“Yes.” Lavender shrugged and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Well, don’t think we need to worry about our speeches being too similar. Mine’s nothing like this.”
“Can I read it?”
“Sure.” Harry took some pieces of paper and handed them to Lavender, who cleared her throat as she straightened it out, “Your handwriting is shit.”
“Shut up.” He mumbled, continuing to read hers.
Lavender exhaled a short breath, “Harry… The start of your speech is literally how Tristan went on a date with me first and then went for Serena.”
“Yeah. That’s what happened, isn’t it? It’s funny.”
“For once, I agree with you.” Lavender humourlessly chuckled, “I thought it’d be funnier though if I mentioned it, a matter of not making myself look like a complete fool. But Serena didn’t want me to mention it so I scrapped it.”
“Well, Tris didn’t ask me to scrap it so I’m leaving it in.” Harry simply shrugged. Lavender pressed her lips together and continued reading, feeling her cheeks flush with each passing second, “Harry, this speech is… I mean, Serena’s going to kill you.”
He snorted, “It’s funny. Yours is fucking boring.”
Lavender got up her feet, “It’s not boring. It’s – it’s clean.”
“It’s safe. Forgettable.”
She rolled her eyes and put Harry’s speech back where he had pulled it from, “Well thanks.”
“I mean, freedom of speech right? If Serena didn’t want you to write your own speech, she shouldn’t have chosen you as a maid of honour.”
Lavender headed for the door, “Wow, you’re full of compliments today.” She sarcastically spoke. Harry got up too, following her to the door, “Hey, ‘m fucking trying to back you up here.”
“Well don’t.” She bit.
“Why not?!”
“Because you’re a fucking asshole anyway a- ow!” Lavender yelped in pain when Harry’s slamming door hit her right in the face. Pain flared through her body as Lavender stumbled back, “What the f- you motherfucker!” She yelled.
Harry quickly yanked the door open again, “Shit! Oh my god – shit, I-I thought you were further away.” He stammered in apology, seeing Lavender with one hand cupping her nose. His eyes went even wider when he saw blood seeping from between her fingers.
“The dress!” Lavender shouted, biting back a wince. Harry was too late when he saw blood drops staining the creamy shade of Serena’s rehearsal dinner dress, snatching it out of Lavender’s hand a split second too late. He threw it into his room behind him, rushing over to Lavender who stood bent over cupping her face.
“Hey – shit, shh.” He grabbed her shoulders, “Stand up for me, are you dizzy?” He helped a trembling Lavender to stand up straight. Tears leaked from her eyes as she tried to blink, losing her footing a little bit. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her up, “Shh, shh, it’s okay. Holy shit.” He pulled her into his room.
“Why did you do that?!” She winced, trusting Harry to not drop her before he sat her down on the side of his bed again. Harry crouched down in front of her, “I-I honestly thought you were further away, I didn’t think the door would hit you.”
“You fucking idiot.” Lavender hissed, her fingers curling into the bedding as she tried to deal with the pain. Harry exhaled, “I know – I fucking know. C’mon, let me have a look.”
“I know you’re a nurse and all but I really think I should go to a doctor. H-How’s Serena’s dress?” 
“Shut up.” Harry mumbled, pulling at her hand to expose her face. Blood covered her entirely and Harry quickly grabbed some tissues to stop the stream from running down her throat and staining the dress she was wearing too. His free hand was on her bare knee and he squeezed gently, “Okay, okay, lean back a little.”
“God – fucking hell, Harry.” Lavender groaned, doing as he said. 
Harry wiped the tissues over her face to clean up the blood and get a better view. He squinted slightly, “Your nose isn’t crooked. I don’t think it’s broken.”
“Fucking feels like it.”
“Can you scrunch?” Harry questioned, tapping one of her nostrils a little and Lavender took a breath through her mouth before scrunching her nose, “Yeah.” She breathed. Harry hummed, “Okay, that’s good. ‘M gonna try a slight pinch, okay?”
“W-Wait.” Lavender held his wrist that was moving up to pinch her nose. Her eyes were closed as she breathed quickly and then nodded, “Yeah, okay.”
Harry squeezed her knee again and carefully pinched the bridge of her nose, “How’s that feel?”
“It’s – It’s okay.” Lavender croaked. Harry nodded, “Okay, definitely not broken. That’s good. Shit, ‘m so sorry, Lav. Let me get something to clean you up.”
“How’s Serena’s dress?” She questioned again and Harry took a quick glance at the dress that he hastily threw on the floor on his way to the bathroom, “It’s – uh, it’s got some drops on it. Perhaps we can wash it out?”
He didn’t wait for Lavender’s response as he brought a wet towel back to her to start cleaning off the blood. Lavender sniffled a little, “Can you hand me some tissues? I need to stop this bleeding.” She held out her hand and Harry nodded, handing her a few as she rolled them up and stuck them up her nose for a bit.
Lavender’s neck strained from the position but the second she sat up normally again, she felt completely dizzy, “Oh – shit.” She mumbled. Harry sat next to her on the bed, dropping the towel again to wrap his arms around her to hold her up, “Easy.” He murmured, “D’you feel okay? Fuck, I feel so bad.”
“You should.” Lavender sighed, rubbing her temple, “I-I need to go shower, I’m going to be late.”
“No, I’ll just wipe off the blood.”
“I need to re-apply my make-up a-and figure out a way to fix this dress. Fuck – the dress.” She felt a pit of dread in her stomach and Harry sighed, “Fuck the dress, ‘s not important right now.”
Lavender pressed her lips together as Harry continued to clean up her face. He was close to her and she smelled his cologne as he had a concentrated look on his face, “Your nose is a bit swollen but nothing too bad. And you have a small cut in your brow.”
“What?”
“Yeah, but it’s not bleeding much. Won’t scar either.”
Lavender didn’t say much but just sighed out as Harry cleaned up her face. “There you go. All good.”
Lavender opened her eyes and sighed out, “Thanks. Fuck, I can’t believe you threw a door in my face.”
“Really didn’t mean to, I promise.” Harry spoke with remorse in his voice. He dropped the bloodied towel on the floor and Lavender’s eyes glanced to his white shirt, “You’ve got blood on your shirt.”
“’S fine.” He shrugged, “It’s a cool story for the party tonight, y’know? People are going to come ask me about it.”
“Just a head’s up that girls don’t fall for that.”
“Damn, my entire strategy to shit.”
Lavender’s lip twitched up in a small smile but it dropped when her phone rang and it was Serena. She got up her feet, Harry quickly following along as she wobbled a bit and pulled the bloodied bits of tissue out of her nose as she felt like the bleeding had stopped. “I’m gonna go see Serena.” Lavender sighed, picking the stained dress off of the floor.
“Oh, I’m coming along, I don’t want to miss this.” Harry teased, “Serena’s gonna lose her marbles.”
“Please let her know it’s your fault.” Lavender sighed. Harry chuckled, “I will. Oh, this is gonna be so good.”
Lavender was less excited than he was when they walked the halls together. Her head still pounded and she tasted blood in her mouth. Her make-up was wiped off but she hardly cared. Her heart pounded, awaiting Serena’s reaction. 
When Lavender knocked on the door of Serena and Tristan’s door, she heard hurried footsteps before the door got yanked open, “Where the hell have you been?!” Serena shrieked, “We’re already late!”
She was in a robe with perfect hair and make-up done. Lavender held her breath and glanced at Harry, who kept his mouth shut. He actually felt a little amused at the pure panic in Serena’s eyes. He noticed Lavender shifting a little uncomfortably on her feet, “Something happened – uh… my nose was bleeding a-and the blood…”
“Lav…” Serena’s voice took a low tone as she seemingly already knew what was about to be said. Lavender swallowed and sheepishly held out the dress, “The blood got on your dress. I-I’m so sorry.”
Serena’s eyes widened and Harry fought his laughter at the shock on her face when she saw the blood contrasting the creamy shade of her gown for the night. 
“What’s going on?” Tristan was fiddling with his tie as he joined the group of four. Harry cleared his throat but Serena beat him to it, “What happened…” her voice trembled in anger, “was that my idiot of a maid of honour ruined my dress.”
Harry’s smile quickly disappeared when he realized how real and mean the anger of Serena actually was. He glanced to see Lavender, who had her eyes low. Serena angrily snatched the dress out of her hands and threw it on the floor, “Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you want to see me fail or something? Do you hate me?!”
Lavender pressed her lips together, “No, S… Of course not.” She tried but Serena hardly seemed to listen, “You have been doing every fucking thing to undermine me! Not to mention you ogle my fiancé every chance you get!”
Harry’s eyes widened and Lavender opened her mouth but Serena held up her finger, “Don’t fucking speak right now.” She snapped, “You’re a fucking mess! You can’t do anything right!”
Lavender shrunk and tensed and Harry huffed out a breath, “Look, it’s my fault, okay? Lav didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Oh, it’s never her fault.” Serena bit, her face red as she kept her eyes on Lavender, “Always the same excuse, but you’re just trying to steal my fucking thunder!”
Harry went to open his mouth but Serena glared at him and he quickly shut it again, taking a step back.
“Serena,” Tristan grabbed her hip from behind, “you have other dresses with you, just wear one of those.” Even he seemed scared of her.
“That’s not what it’s about!” Serena yelled, directing her anger back at Lavender and pointing her finger at her, “You always fucking ruin everything!” She screamed before turning around and storming off into the bathroom.
Lavender stood there with wide eyes and tense shoulders. Tristan lowered his eyes and Harry sighed out a sharp breath, “Thanks for nothing, Tris.” He muttered.
“No, thank you for nothing.” Lavender mumbled, flicking her eyes to Harry, “Was that your big defence? Taking the blame? I barely heard you.”
He frowned, “Lav, I d-“
“Save it.” She exhaled, turning around to head back to her room. Harry didn’t follow her. As Lavender walked the halls, her bottom lip trembled. Her head still pounded from the blow, but the anger she felt towards Harry for being such an idiot was overpowered by an extreme sadness and feeling of anxiety. Serena blew up quickly, and Lavender knew it. But this was on a different level.
She could hardly blame her and had to keep Serena’s upbringing in mind – but she had literally been screaming in her face for a dress. If it would’ve been her actual wedding dress, maybe Lavender would’ve understood. But it was a dress for a rehearsal dinner and she had four others with her. 
Lavender felt the tears in her eyes and jammed her key card into the door of her hotel room so she could cry without any of the wedding guests seeing her. Once inside, she sobbed loudly. 
Serena didn’t know this – or actually she did – but Lavender grew up in a shouting household. Her parents did nothing but yell. At her, at each other. Lavender had craved silence and stability all her life and she had gotten none of it so far.
Friendships that came and went with toxic people. She found those toxic people in relationships too, letting her partners drag her down all the time until she felt insignificant. But Lavender was a stayer and not a leaver. It hardly mattered how shitty people treated her, she tried to find a way to stay and see the best in them. Everyone had a good side, but some people had a far worse bad side than others did.
Lavender didn’t talk about her childhood easily, mostly because she felt traumatized by something she found hard to explain. She was never short on anything and her parents were still together to this day, but the yelling. God, the endless yelling. Lavender couldn’t wait to move out and live by herself and be in the quiet. And perhaps because of that, she wasn’t a yeller.
And Serena screaming in her face pained her more than she cared to admit. Her body had a physical reaction to it, and Lavender was shaking and gasping in the room as she walked around a little bit. She went into the bathroom to splash some water in her face, inspecting the cut in her forehead and taking a painkiller for her headache. Her nose wasn’t even all that swollen, and she blew it a few times to get rid of all the blood.
By the time she had laid in bed for a moment, she felt calmer.
And Lavender honestly wasn’t sure what to do. Her anger and sadness made place for that people-pleasing part of her who just couldn’t imagine missing out on her best friend’s wedding – no matter how shitty she treated her.
So Lavender redid her make-up and fixed her dress before putting on a brave face and heading back downstairs.
The dinner hadn’t formally began yet and Lavender kept her eyes low when she entered the room. She went straight to the bar to order a glass of champagne, hardly standing there for all of two seconds before she felt a presence next to her.
“Lav –“ She heard Harry’s voice and turned her head to the side, a boring look on her face, “What?”
“Look, ‘m sorry, okay?” Harry had a look of sorrow in his eyes. For the past thirty minutes he had contemplated going up to Lavender’s room to apologize thoroughly. Instead of doing that, he had to stay with Tristan and listened as he complained about Serena’s temper. Apparently tensions were running high the days before their wedding. Harry had a flicker of hope that perhaps this entire thing would fall through.
Lavender accepted her glass of champagne, “Good for you. But I got screamed at and you didn’t.” She was about to turn around but Harry grabbed her arm, “Stop, come on… I-I didn’t think she’d react like that. Why are you friends with her anyway? She’s horrible to you.” He sighed, “How can I make it up?”
“I told you before,” Lavender hissed, “save it. We’re not friends.” She shrugged her arm out of his grip and went to find Serena to apologize to her again. She spotted her easily, wearing a dark green dress instead of a cream one. She looked gorgeous and radiant as usual and her eyes softened when she laid eyes Lavender.
They only spoke for about a minute. Serena didn’t have too much time on a night like tonight. She apologized to Lavender for shouting and they hugged, and then it was all good. Lavender sat down at the table with her champagne, the chair next to her scraping back as Harry also took his seat. 
She shifted in her chair and flicked her eyes over to him, “Why are you sitting next to me?” She whispered.
“Because I want to apologize.” He spoke in an equally hushed whisper. Lavender rolled her eyes, “Stop. Go sit with Tristan.”
“No. I’m going to sit right here until you forgive me.”
“Well, good luck.” Lavender took another sip and then focussed her attention on Tristan’s father who was giving a little speech. Harry stared at her side profile, Lavender very clearly avoiding him. Throughout dinner she didn’t pay him any attention. She sat turned to the side to chat with the other bridesmaids while Harry was stuck next to Serena’s father.
They sipped some wine as Lavender tried her best to avoid him. Harry’s chair was close to hers and she jumped up in pure surprise when suddenly feeling his thumb on her thigh. “Lav.” He whispered. She zoned out of her conversation with Brit and tried to ignore Harry, crossing her legs over one another as she nodded and hummed at whatever Brit was saying.
“Lav.” Harry whispered again.
Lavender’s hand trembled as she took another sip of her red wine and shifted a little more until the entirety of Harry’s palm was on her thigh. 
“Will you stop touching me?” She hissed suddenly, scraping her chair back. She turned her head sharply and Harry’s brows raised, a small, amused smile on his lips as he retrieved his hand, “You wouldn’t listen.”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone.”
Harry puckered his lips, “You’re talking to me right now.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you I don’t want to talk to you.” Lavender gritted through her teeth.
Harry continued smirking, “Y’know, at the wedding, we’re also sitting next to one another.”
Lavender blinked at him, “No, we’re not.”
“We are.” Harry smirked, “I asked Tristan to change the seating chart.” He held up his phone, showing the text messages between him and Tristan and Lavender hardly looked at it, “Why.”
“Because…” Harry shrugged, “I want you to forgive me.”
“I don’t like you.” 
“You will.”
“God – Harry,” Lavender rolled her eyes, “You hate me as much as I hate you.”
“So just tell me you forgive me.” He shrugged. Lavender narrowed her eyes, “You almost broke my nose.”
“Almost.” Harry held up his finger and Lavender scoffed, “Just leave me alone.”
She turned around again to send Brit a smile, “Sorry, please continue.”
Once they were all gone from the tables, Harry mingled a little with Tristan’s family. He knew them ever since he was little and spent a long time talking to his mum.
“So Harry,” She flicked some dust off of his shoulder, “didn’t you bring a date?”
He flashed her a charming smile, “I’m not really the dating type, Andrea.” He chuckled. She took a sip of her wine, “Maybe not, but isn’t it the hype now to bring a date to a wedding? Girlfriend or not?” She checked and Harry raised one of his shoulders, “Nah. I like to…” he puckered his lips, “scope my surroundings.”
Andrea chuckled at the cheekiness she knew so well, “So you’re going to hook up with someone?”
“Andrea.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh and shook his head, “Let’s just see what happens.”
She glanced around the room, “Anyone you’ve got your eyes on? Isn’t it a cliché that the best man hooks up with one of the bridesmaids?”
He followed her gaze to where the bridesmaids were chattering together, one of them being Lavender. The music had gotten louder the past thirty minutes and her hips were softly swaying, a beer in her hand now.
He checked her out thoroughly, scanning the length of her body and the tight dress hugging her figure. The nip in her waist and the width of her hips, the length of her legs and how smooth her skin looked. The dark red looked outstanding on her and Harry wondered why he had never looked at her like this before.
Maybe because he had never before wanted her attention.
He honestly did feel bad about how the evening had gone. Witnessing Serena in all her anger, he realized how tough it had been for Lavender these past few months – basically planning the wedding. Lavender was nice enough to work around Harry’s schedule. As a hospital nurse, he had night shifts and evening shifts all the time, yet she adapted easily.
And he nearly fucking broke her nose. It was a hundred percent his fault that dress had been ruined, but when he heard whatever Serena yelled at Lavender, he had just been frozen. Like… paralyzed. He thought it’d be funny to watch Serena throw a fit, but it was beyond extent. He was surprised at her outburst to say the least, so surprised he could hardly speak.
And now he wanted to apologize, and he wanted Lavender to forgive him. 
Any other time, he’d stay as far away from her as possible. They never had anything to talk about and were at each other’s throat, but now he was grovelling.
He knew she didn’t like him, but he needed her to forgive him just for this.
He threw the remainder of his scotch down his throat and excused himself when he noticed Lavender heading towards the restrooms. He put his empty glass down and tucked his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, following after her.
Once in the restrooms, he didn’t hesitate opening the doors to the ladies rooms. Lavender was at the sinks, staring back at him through the mirror with a tube of lipstick in her hand.
Harry stayed by the door, shortly glancing around until he realized they were alone.
“This is the ladies room.” Lavender spoke.
“I know. D’you need to pee?” Harry checked.
“I’m touching up my lipstick.”
He walked over to her until he stood behind her, “Really? ‘S a shame. I’m just going to ruin it again.” 
Lavender’s lipstick dropped to the floor when Harry abruptly grabbed her hips and spun her around, holding her around her waist and dipping his head. Their lips brushed together and Lavender’s eyes widened, immediately shoving against his shoulders, “Harry!” She yelped, “What the fuck?!”
He stumbled back, breathless. Lavender frowned deeply as she grabbed the sink behind her. The tension was thick between them, and Lavender didn’t even know why she did it. She pushed herself off the counter, leaving her stuff by the sink as she lunged at Harry and wrapped her arms around him. “Fuck it.” She breathed, crashing their lips together.
He smirked against her lips, immediately responding by holding onto her waist. One hand immediately reached for her ass to pull her into him. He stumbled back with Lavender in his arms, bumping into the mirrored wall behind him. She moaned into his mouth, tasting alcohol on his lips as he engulfed her and pulled her tightly into his chest.
He felt warm. Firm. And Lavender was blinded by lust. Harry was the last man she ever considered being attracted to. She’d always found him hot, from meeting him the first time even. But then his personality showed and she was turned off immediately. Now, she couldn’t even remember why she disliked him in the first place.
Harry turned them around again, pushing Lavender into the wall. His tongue wiggled between her lips, bringing one hand up to cup her jaw and hold her in place. His hips pushed forward to trap her, and he felt himself shuddering as Lavender ran her fingers through the back of his hair, pulling him in further as she arched.
She tasted delicious, red wine on her tongue as Harry used his thumb to push her jaw down and allow him more room to dominate the kiss. 
Lavender didn’t have a single thought. Harry’s warm body encaged her, his cologne overwhelmed her and his lips devoured her. She felt dizzy in the best way and her entire body felt on fire, overcome with a sudden lust for a man she used to despise. God he was a skilled kisser.
“Forgive me?” He panted against her lips. Lavender groaned in protest and managed to shake her head before they were caught in another make-out session, “No.” She breathed into his mouth. Harry dug his fingers into her hip and let his other hand slip to her thigh too. Without breaking the kiss, his fingers hiked up Lavender’s tight dress until it sat around her hips, revealing the white lace thong she wore underneath.
Harry sponged kisses over her jaw as he caught his breath and Lavender turned her head to the side to see the entrance door of the women’s bathrooms. Her heart hammered in her chest, “H-Harry, the door.” She gasped as he slipped a hand between her legs. Lavender’s head thudded against the mirror behind her as she trembled, his fingers pressing into her nerves through her thong.
Her fingers involuntary tightened in his hair when he teased her through the underwear, “Someone can walk in.” She stuttered out between shaky breaths and Harry hummed, sucking softly below her ear, “Let them.” He then kissed her again. 
One hand steady on her hip, the other between her thighs. Lavender squirmed and he smirked, knowing fully well what he was doing to her. Harry was throbbing in his pants and as he went to sponge kisses over Lavender’s shoulder, he glanced down to see the angelic white on her body.
Lavender was slender and shaped beautifully, and Harry bit his lip, watching as his fingers disappeared into the waistband of her thong as he flattened his hand against her tummy. Right as his fingertips grazed her bare clit, he flicked his eyes back up to stare into Lavender’s.
Her jaw clenched in sensitivity when Harry let two fingertips rest on her budding pearl, drawing the softest, smallest circles. Lavender was tingling, desperately grabbing his hair until she was sure she was hurting his scalp. But Harry only smirked wickedly, enjoying tremendously what he was putting Lavender through.
“Forgive me?” He whispered again, lips brushing over one another. She shook her head, “N-No. Asshole.”
Harry grunted before the two fingers he has used to toy with her clit, slipped lower through her wet slit. Lavender coated his digits immediately in her slick arousal as he spread her pussy lips to work her up. His jaw dropped at the feeling, warm, gooey excitement making the glide easy.
Lavender was panting, her head against the mirror as she checked the door every once in a while. Literally anyone could walk in at any time and see this. Her dress up her hips and Harry’s hand in her underwear. Harry, of all people. 
“Look at that,” He cooed teasingly as he dipped the tip of his finger inside of her and Lavender shuddered slightly, “this asshole is about to get you off in less than a minute, get you creaming all over my fingers.”
Lavender pressed her lips together as she tried to hold onto her composure, but her brain was short-circuiting when Harry pushed his finger in a little further, eagerly checking her reactions. She tried to seem unfazed but he could see the rounding of her eyes and the tremble in her bottom lip. Harry’s lip curled up into a half-smirk as he curled his finger up. Lavender’s shoulders tensed and her lips parted wider, inhaling a strangled gasp.
“There we go.” Harry whispered, “Let me tell you how sorry I am, hm?”
Lavender’s heart beat violently as Harry tortured her with one of his long fingers, brushing into her swollen g-spot over and over again to only get her wetter. It was near embarrassing. “I h-hate you.” She managed to croak out.
“Yeah?”
Lavender’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip hard to stifle a moan when he added a second finger. Harry narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on the way a flush rose up her chest and throat as Lavender fought so hard not to let the pleasure consume her. Harry chuckled out arrogantly when he felt her clenching around his two fingers. She was so fucking warm and wet and his mouth watered, imagining what she’d taste like.
“Still hate me?” Harry checked cockily as he pulled his fingers out halfway and thrusted back in. Lavender jolted up with a stifled whimper, her bottom lip turning white from how harshly she was biting down on it. Her chest heaved up and down as Harry had her in the palm of his hand.
“Lav,” He crooned, “answer me. Still hate me?”
“Uh-h-huh.” She moaned out. Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to her swollen bottom lip, “’S not very polite when I’ve got my fingers inside you.” He whispered, “’S not very polite when I’m about to make you cum.”
Lavender’s eyes glazed over as she managed to shake her head no. Harry smirked wider, “I’m not?” He checked, and Lavender confirmed by shaking her head. Harry nuzzled his nose with her as he put more force into the thrusting motions of his fingers. The palm of his hand rubbed into Lavender’s clit as her wetness seeped out of her cunt to cover his fingers.
“I beg to differ.” He whispered, “You’re right there, I can feel it. C’mon, Lav, don’t be such a stubborn little bitch.” He hissed the last part, adding a third finger. Lavender cried out in surprise, her eyes bulging as her legs shook. Harry’s eyes blazed fire as his fingers fucked into her and Lavender desperately tried to stave off her orgasm.
It was no use. Harry’s fingers massaged her perfectly and she gasped in a pathetic breath. The smirk returned to his lips, realizing very well he was about to make her cum on his fingers, “Feels so fucking tight.” He whispered against her parted lips, “’M so hard for you, Lav. Wish it was my cock inside your wet cunt.”
Lavender panted harder, shaking on her feet as Harry flicked his eyes between hers, “Just like that,” He urged, “get wet on my fingers, c’mon.” He rubbed her g-spot over and over again and Lavender couldn’t stop it anymore. Her body shivered as she harshly tugged Harry’s hair. Her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back, face scrunching up in delight. Harry hardly knew where to look first, the sight in front of him so erotic.
A pink flush rose up Lavender’s cheeks as she pinched her eyes shut and stuttered out a breathy cry, “God – Harry.” She whimpered his name in a way it made a shiver run down his spine, his cock twitching in his pants when he felt her wet, sticky release on his fingers. His digits continued to work her through her orgasm as Lavender desperately gasped for oxygen, her brain fried with so much pleasure.
Fuck, she couldn’t believe she had just cum on his fingers. Her body slumped against the mirror as Harry wrapped his arm entirely around her waist to steady her. He shushed her gently as her hips trembled, “Shh, baby…” He crooned, kissing her chin once, “that’s good, that’s so fucking good.”
Lavender blinked as she came back to earth, her eyes focussing on Harry who couldn’t help but smirk arrogantly at her wrecked state. Lavender gasped when his fingers slipped out of her gently, Harry shushing her again, “’S okay.” He whispered, something so arrogant about the way he soothed her, knowing full well she was about to whimper in protest of his touch disappearing. He loved it. God, he thrived on it. “No need to pout.” He added, even though Lavender was a billion percent sure she wasn’t fucking pouting.
Her legs felt like spaghetti when Harry brought up his wet fingers to lick them clean, moaning softly at the taste of her. So sweet, resembling honey in the way it stuck to his tongue and hit his tastebuds. He cupped her chin after to press a lingering kiss to her lips.
Without her having to ask, he fixed her underwear a little and tugged her dress down to cover her up. He bumped his nose into hers, “Forgive me?” He asked again.
Lavender swallowed and put her hands on his shoulders to nudge him back. Harry did so, allowing her the space to stand up on her own. Lavender smoothed her palms over her dress as she cleared her throat, “No.” 
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Harry flustered and aching in the women’s bathrooms.
***
Harry watched her the next day, sipping his coffee in silence in the hotel bar. It was a Saturday and the day before the wedding.
She avoided him, so much was clear.
After last night, Lavender felt completely embarrassed and a little frustrated. He was the reason her head hurt all the time. He was the reason she had felt like crap for months in a row, preparing this wedding by herself as he did near nothing to help her. He was the reason Serena lashed out at her and made Lavender cry.
So she gathered herself and stuck around the party for a little longer. She had felt Harry’s eyes burning on her as Lavender flirted with one of the groomsmen and played with a strand of her red hair. She felt his eyes when she drank another glass of red wine. She felt his eyes when she said goodnight to Serena and Tristan and headed up to her room.
He hesitated following after her and finishing what they had started in the bathrooms, but Harry too was slightly flustered. Flustered because Lavender had left him high and dry after he made her cum on his fingers. She rejected him very clearly and he wasn’t sure if it was still a game or not.
So he watched her and made mental notes.
Lavender was the girl who woke up early on Saturday morning and went for a run in skimpy shorts and a sport’s bra.
Lavender was the girl who came back from said run about fifty minutes later, hardly looking like she had broken a sweat.
Lavender was the girl who then went up to shower and dressed casually, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt as her red hair was still wet from showering.
Lavender was the kind of girl who ordered black coffee.
Lavender was the kind of girl who sat with her laptop and headphones on, working on a Saturday even if her best friend was getting married the next day.
Lavender was the kind of girl who fucking ignored him as he sat staring at her from across the bar.
For Harry, the day moved too slow. He was stuck with Tristan freaking out about the wedding, rehearsing his vows and his speech about a billion times. Tristan had a dramatic freak-out about the length of his hair and then also the hair in his nose. Harry couldn’t wait for it to be Sunday so Tristan could get off his nerves.
For Lavender, the day moved too fast. She was behind in work and couldn’t get it done with the way Harry was staring at her from across the room and the memory of her orgasm fresh in her brain. She couldn’t face him – she couldn’t. Lavender had never been more fucking confused. Harry called her ugly not two weeks ago and it was basically the first time they had an interaction where they weren’t yelling at each other.
Instead of yelling, it had been moaning and whimpering. The hair on Lavender’s arm stood up just thinking about it. The jog that morning hardly cleared her mind and all she could think of was how she was supposed to sit next to him the next day. All day.
The night before the wedding was rather calm. Serena spent the night in Lavender’s room so her and Tristan could sleep apart and it was filled with plucking her brows, doing a facemask and painting her nails. Lavender kept her mouth shut about Harry and simply nodded and hummed to whatever Serena was talking about.
The morning of the wedding was spent with more preparations and Lavender having to calm Serena down. They took pictures and took hours to get ready, having a little girl-lunch with the bridesmaids. The day itself flew by and before anyone true and well realized it, Serena was waiting at the end of the aisle with Lavender, ready to walk down to her future husband.
“You look so beautiful.” Lavender smiled gently. Serena was near trembling in anxiety. She exhaled a short breath, “I’m scared I’m going to trip.”
Lavender shook her head, “Just hold onto your dad.” Her head flicked to the side when the music started. Lavender pressed her lips together and Serena grabbed her hands harder, giving her a nod, “See you on the other side.”
“I love you.” Lavender pressed a light kiss to her forehead, running her thumb over it after to not leave a lipstick stain. Lavender brushed her hair over her shoulder and smoothed out her lavender dress, grabbing the bouquet of dried flowers she’d hold to walk down the aisle and wait for Serena at the front.
Lavender took a small breath and glanced at Serena over her shoulder, who was grabbing her father’s arm. The doors opened and Lavender was met with rows of people. An officiant was at the front with Tristan and Harry by his side.
Lavender walked the middle of the aisle, the soft music guiding her to the front.
And Harry couldn’t tear his fucking eyes away. He was sure he wouldn’t blink twice if Serena walked down the aisle in her white dress.
But Lavender looked… astonishing. 
Harry’s throat ran dry when his eyes focussed completely on her. Everyone else fucking vanished when she walked out of the building. The summer sun shone down on her, turning her hair just slightly lighter than the dark red it usually was. It was in gentle waves, cascading down her back. Her make-up was simple as usual, and he could see her freckles. And then the fucking dress – was just made for her.
It made her look like she was the bride and Harry held his breath. It was a slip dress, clinging to the curves of her hips. Those hips he had held when he had brought her to orgasm with his fingers. He softly cleared his throat and blinked twice, watching the way her hips swayed from left to right as she made her way up front.
Lavender shot a small smile at Tristan and then stood opposite Harry to wait for Serena. Her eyes briefly flicked up to Harry and he looked at her like he had seen a ghost. Lavender diverted her eyes away but not before realizing that Harry wore a lavender-shaded tie. 
Her fingers tightened around the bouquet she was holding at the realization that they matched a little bit in some way. Of course Serena was all about the aesthetic and had paid attention to little details like that. 
Harry could hardly focus on the ceremony. The officiant had to ask him twice to bring the rings and Lavender bit her lip to stifle her giggle at that. Her eyes were on Serena and Tristan, a soft smile on her lips as she exuded pure happiness for her friend. 
But Harry wasn’t even paying attention to that. He was sure Serena looked pretty. He saw flashes of her dress in the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t stop looking at Lavender. And the more he looked at her, the hotter he felt. Harry felt flushed, realizing they had kissed. Realizing he had fingered her. Realizing he had tasted her on his fingers too.
He was a little late in applauding once Serena and Tristan sealed in their marriage with a kiss. After that, things moved quickly. Lavender and Harry were constantly talking to people and dousing little fires in an attempt to make this the perfect day for Serena and Tristan.
It was before dinner that they shared their first conversation.
“The guy said there’s something wrong with the beamer.” Harry breathed as he took hold of Lavender’s forearm. The champagne sloshed around in her glass a bit as her eyes widened, “Shit.” She muttered, earning raised brows from Serena’s grandparents. 
Harry offered them a polite smile before shortly tugging on Lavender’s arm to get her away, “C’mon, let’s go have a look.”
Lavender put her feet down as she fought the grip, “Well, can’t you just go and figure something out? I’m not like… a tech person or anything.” She shrugged.
Harry clenched his jaw, “Lav, let’s just go take a look. I’m freaking out here.”
“I didn’t want this stupid PowerPoint presentation in the first place.”
“Fuck, this again?” Harry huffed, “Look, it’s what we decided on, Lavender. We didn’t have time to figure anything else out. And why are you bringing that up now?” He hissed through his teeth, in clear panic of the little situation.
Lavender took another sip of champagne, shrugging her shoulders, “Because I feel like it.” She pulled her arm back when Harry seemingly reached for it again, “You’ve been getting on my nerves throughout the entire planning of this wedding.”
Harry flicked his tongue over his bottom lip as he exhaled a heavy sigh, shaking his head to himself, “You know…” He lowered his voice as he shot Lavender a hard glare, “really thought I fucked that bratty attitude out of you.”
Lavender’s eyes widened, “You little s-“
“Lav!” Serena’s voice sounded urgent and Lavender offered Harry a small smile, “Oops. Maid of honour duty calls.”
“Lav-“ Harry gritted but she was already turned around and walking away. Harry’s eyes dropped to her ass and he pressed his lips together, sharply turning around as frustration coursed through his veins. 
The evening was honestly a rollercoaster. Harry figured out the beamer thing, so the PowerPoint worked as planned. Lavender did most of that, which Harry was grateful for. In turn, he left out the part where Tristan went on a date with her first as he made his speech. 
Lavender was grateful for that. So when the desert buffet happened and she managed to take the final piece of cheesecake, she instead slid it over to his plate.
Harry swallowed his wine as he glanced at the cheesecake on his plate. His eyes then flicked to Lavender, who glanced back at him from below her lashes. 
“This for me?” He questioned.
Lavender softly cleared her throat, “Yes. Thank you for altering your speech and not make this embarrassing for me.”
Harry slowly nodded, “Thank you for handling the PowerPoint presentation.”
“Thank you for fixing the beamer.”
A small smile spread on Harry’s lips, “Thank you for coming up with the idea.”
Lavender hid her smile behind her glass but eventually puckered her lips, “Look at us.”
“Who would’ve thought, hm?” Harry turned a bit more in his chair to face her, his knee bumping into hers, “That we’d agree on something? Or get along?”
“You know…” Lavender flicked her hair over her shoulder and Harry inhaled her perfume, his eyes dropping to the column of her throat and how he had his lips on her the day before. His fingers clenched over the edge of the chair as the memories came to mind. 
Warm, wet pulsing walls around his fingers. Harry near drooled. Lavender saw the parting of his lips and felt a sense of pride and arrogance washing over her. Harry’s eyes briefly dropped to her chest before Lavender continued, “if you think about it, we’re both just… passionate best friends, hm?”
“Of course.” Harry nodded, “We did this for our best friends.”
“They’re very important to us. Tristan to you and Serena to me.”
“Obviously.”
Lavender softly smiled, “See? Agreeing again.”
“Must be something in the wine.”
Her giggle made Harry’s heart flutter and he bit his bottom lip, “Perhaps we were dicks to each other just because we’re such passionate friends.”
Lavender raised her brows, “I don’t think I was a dick to you.”
“You were.”
“I beg to differ.”
Harry tilted his head to the side, “So you don’t think I deserve an apology?”
Lavender smirked while shrugging, “Nope. I think I deserve an apology.”
Harry’s skin felt hot, “I tried.” He rasped.
“Perhaps.” Lavender took a sip of wine, “But I think you can try harder.”
Harry scooted even closer and he even dared to let his hand rest on Lavender’s knee. The warmth from him made her tingle and her eyes dropped to the touch, swallowing her red wine that stained her lips a shade similar to her hair. Harry gave her knee a soft squeeze, “How?” He murmured.
Lavender tried to keep the slamming of her heart under control, “Figure it out.” She smiled before turning around again. Harry’s hand slipped off her leg as he watched her turn her shoulder to talk to someone else.
Lavender didn’t necessarily know this about him, but the challenge spurred Harry on tremendously. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her the remainder of the evening. When Tristan and Serena did their first dance, Harry stared at Lavender who was on the other side of the circle watching them. Lavender held her phone up to videotape them even if there were two professional videographers capturing the moment.
She had a soft smile on her lips and held a beer bottle between two fingers while focussing on the newlyweds. Their eyes met and Lavender tipped the bottle of beer back and continued filming their friends. Harry leaned back against the bar and saw his chance a few minutes later.
The first song. 
He walked up to her and snatched Lavender before Tristan or anyone else could. His arm slipped around her waist, the slip dress clinging to her curves as Lavender raised her brows at him, “Wh –“
“Dance with me.” Harry smirked, grabbing the bottle out of Lavender’s hand and putting it down somewhere before guiding her hand to his shoulder. Her cheeks flamed quickly and Lavender looked anywhere besides his eyes as Harry tugged her a bit closer to him by the hand he had on her lower back.
“C’mon, Lav.” His nose brushed her cheekbone as he pulled her closer for the slow dance, Perfect by Ed Sheeran sounding through the venue as couples paired up and slow danced. He brought his other hand to her hip to give a soft squeeze, “Relax a little.”
“I hate this song.” She exhaled and Harry chuckled, his chest rumbling a little, “Me too. Look, agreeing again. Perhaps it’s in the beer too.”
Lavender simply swallowed and tried to not completely freak out by Harry’s closeness. She was so aware of where his fingers were placed around the bones of her hips and how his breath hit her forehead. Her hands were on his shoulders and she let him guide her easily, following along the steps he took.
“How’s the nose?” Harry checked to break the silence.
Lavender huffed out a breath and shrugged. Harry had a sly smirk, “Still look pretty.”
“You called me ugly not even two weeks ago.”
“I was an idiot two weeks ago.”
Lavender refrained from rolling her eyes, readjusting her hands a little bit until they linked at the back of Harry’s neck, “What made you change your mind?”
“Honestly…” Harry exhaled, “feeling you cum around my fingers was pretty detrimental.” He casually spoke and Lavender’s eyes widened as she peered over his shoulder, hearing him murmur in her ear as they continued slow dancing. Harry’s thumbs stroked over her dress, “Watching you cum, too. You were almost crying, and your eyes rolled back. Your cheeks turned pink and your heart was beating so fast. And fuck,” He lowly spoke, brushing his lips over her jaw briefly, “your pussy felt so warm and wet. So warm.”
Lavender was at a loss for words. Harry’s hand brushed the top of her ass before modestly placing it back on her back. The low cut of the dress on her back made it easy to trace his fingers over her vertebrae, “Tasted so fucking sweet, too.”
Lavender swallowed, “S-So I was ugly until I took off my clothes?” She asked to clarify, keeping her voice from shaking. Harry frowned and pulled back a little, seeing Lavender’s challenging eyes. He quickly glanced around them before using one hand to cup her jaw and placing a delicate kiss on the high of her cheek, “Not at all. Just made me see you differently. Let’s be honest, you were never ugly. Not by a long shot. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. I-In every room.”
“God, you really want to hook up at this wedding, don’t you?” Lavender had some disgust laced in her voice as she increased the distance between them again, “Guess Serena’s grandmother’s old necklace isn’t the only thing that’s blue in here.” She spoke, referring to Harry’s balls.
He pressed his lips together, “Will you just fucking believe me when I tell you that I’m attracted to you?” He gritted through his teeth and Lavender huffed, “Why would I? You’ve made my life hell the past six months.”
“And I want to make it up to you.” Harry pressed, “Think I would’ve fingered you in that bathroom if I didn’t really want to? Think I didn’t jerk myself off afterwards thinking about it? Think I haven’t done the same thing multiple times in the past few months?”
Lavender’s eyes rounded at the information, and she could imagine Harry sitting at home with his hand down his pants and her on his brain. Her throat ran dry and Harry took another breath, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. And we won’t see each other anymore after today.”
His words held truth and Lavender’s heart actually did sink a little. Harry was a pain in her ass and he had successfully wound her up so badly over the past few months that Lavender felt so much anger and frustration that she hardly knew what to do with it. All she wanted for the past six months was for this wedding to be over already. So she could go back to spending her free time however she saw fit, and so she could go back to not having to interact with Harry so often.
Yet now that the time was close, she actually dreaded it. Their bickering. God, what is wrong with me – Lavender thought. She swallowed and eventually dared flicking her eyes up to see Harry, getting lost in the deep green of his gaze. Maybe fucking him really was the one thing she needed to get rid of that frustration. Maybe it’d even feel good. She could be on top of him, choke him, dominate him a little bit to finally gain the upper hand.
A heat spread over Lavender’s body and she softly nodded, “Okay.” She rasped.
Harry’s lips curled up into a grin, “Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.” Harry murmured, squeezing her hip again, “And don’t backtrack on me, Lav. We’re doing this. I’m going to make you feel how sorry I am. All night long.” He spoke directly in her ear again, sensing a shudder that ran down her spine at his words. He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear, “If you can handle it.”
“I can handle it.” She spoke in a wavering voice. Harry’s cock twitched in his pants at the way she tried to sound feisty but failed. He hummed, “I know. You’re going to be good to me and I’m going to be good to you.” Harry pulled back and tapped his pointer finger underneath her chin, “Always telling me I’ve got such a big mouth hm? I’ll put it to use real good tonight.” He smirked before tapping her top lip and turning around.
Lavender was a panting mess on the dancefloor and she stared at Harry’s back as he walked away from her. She didn’t have to see his face to know he had a shit eating cocky grin on his face. He knew so well what he was doing, leaving her with the thought of his tongue between her thighs so she wouldn’t change her mind.
Lavender felt sweaty and headed into the bathroom for a bit, her cheeks red as she used some toilet paper to get rid of the arousal between her legs. She swallowed thickly as she tried to calm down, tried to get the jittering of her thighs under control. She flushed the toilet and went outside to wash her hands and join the party again.
It felt like time crawled by as slowly as it could. Harry and Lavender made eyes at one another from across the room as they tried to be polite and talk to some of the guests. Lavender had a dance with Tristan as Harry danced with Serena for a moment. It felt awkward to say the least. Harry truly did dislike Serena a lot and Serena kept her eyes on her new husband and her best friend – still a sense of insecurity there since he went on a date with Lavender first.
Lavender pulled herself out of Tristan’s arms a few seconds before the song ended and forced him a small smile, heading to the bar next to grab another beer. 
Harry chuckled at the sight, a beautiful woman in a soft lilac dress, drinking beer from the bottle.
By the time some of the older guests started heading up to their rooms, Harry found Lavender at the bar. He subtly placed his hand on her lower back and she jumped up, flicking her head to the side, “Oh. Hey.”
“Hi.” He breathed. Harry nibbled his lip for a moment as he scanned the room, “Wanna get out of here?”
Lavender’s cheeks heated at his words and her legs felt weak again. She remembered the way he fingered her to an orgasm so mindblowing she nearly passed out. She finished up her beer and nodded, “Okay.”
Harry nodded, “Okay. Let’s go, we can sneak out here.”
“Serena will be looking for me later.” Lavender spoke as Harry pulled her out of the room and towards the back exit, “To help with her dress.”
“Tristan can help with her dress.” Harry argued. Before they made it outside, he pushed her up against the wall. With one hand tangled in her red hair, he pushed his lips on hers urgently. Lavender squealed in surprise but reacted quickly, holding onto Harry’s broad shoulders as his tongue wiggled its way between her lips.
Lavender was putty in his hands, melting into his body and running her fingers through his hair as they made out. His tongue was soft and wet, flicking the tip of it against hers and licking up the roof of her mouth to get Lavender dizzy. She chased him once he pulled back, bringing him in for another kiss. 
Harry smirked against her, feeling as she arched her back and pressed her tits into his chest. His hand dropped to her ass to hold her close and they eventually did pull back for air. He nipped on her jaw, tasting the remains of her perfume, “Fuck Serena.” He mumbled, “She doesn’t need you anymore tonight. I do. And besides, you won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you. Gonna keep you in bed all night.”
Lavender’s eyes fluttered at his promise and she hastily nodded, “Y-Yeah. Okay.”
Her body felt cold as Harry pulled back, taking her hand again to pull her outside of the venue and head towards the hotel. The steep, uphill walk proved a bit of a difficulty in the dark. Lavender’s heels got stuck in the grass and she helplessly trailed behind Harry a bit. 
“Lav, let’s go.” Harry impatiently tugged at her and she hissed under her breath, “I’m wearing heels.” She bit.
Harry rolled his eyes and they eventually made it towards the entrance of the hotel. They hurried in, Harry’s key card in hand as he pulled her towards the elevator. They were both out of breath, but Lavender grabbed his tie and pulled him into her. His hands kneaded her waist as they grabbed at one another and hotly made out again. He stole the breath out of her lungs and Lavender moaned shakily at the way his thigh pressed between her legs.
“Come on.” Harry panted once the doors opened. His hair was messy and his cheeks were pink. His tie was partly undone from Lavender’s fingers tugging at it earlier and they stumbled towards Harry’s room. Lavender scanned the hallway to make sure no one caught them until Harry finally managed to open the room.
“Fuck, I can’t wait.” He moaned, immediately shoving her on the bed. Lavender gasped in surprise as she thudded on the white sheets, staring up at the ceiling until Harry hovered over her. Lavender’s eyes couldn’t focus as he yanked on the tie to get rid of it. His eyes dragged down her form, lingering on the sight of her hardened nipples through the soft purple shade of her dress.
He kissed her again, a lot slower this time. Lavender’s brain exploded as his tongue expertly roamed around her mouth and his hands touched her waist. He discovered her shape, moving his palm up to cup her breast over her dress. Lavender arched and restlessly kicked her legs for more. Harry kissed down, nipping on her throat and the swells of her breasts as his hands hitched up the dress.
“Gonna make you feel how fucking sorry I am.” He grunted, dropping down the bed to sit on his knees on the side of it. Lavender panted pathetically when she felt his fingers around her ankles, undoing her strappy heels which thudded to the floor.
His hands then slid up her thighs, pulling the dress up with it. He kissed over her shins, her knees and higher up until bunching her dress up around her hips. “Holy fuck – Lav…” Harry breathed at the sight of her soft pink lace thong. He dropped his forehead to her thigh with a whimper, “Shit.”
“I w-wanna –“ Lavender breathed as she pushed up her elbows, her eyes glazed over as they locked with Harry’s, “I wanna be on top.”
“Oh – fuck, gladly.” He quickly responded, getting up again to lay down on the bed next to her. Lavender struggled with her long dress for a bit until Harry played with the strap around her shoulder, “Take it off.” He spoke. 
She stared at him for a moment and dragged her eyes over his very clothed body, “If you get naked too.”
Harry smirked and nodded, “Deal.”
“And – uh… I’m going to turn down the lights a little bit.” She got up her feet and stumbled towards the door, locking it and then dimming the lights a little bit. Harry didn’t object, following her body as Lavender then ran a hand through her hair and exhaled a shaky breath. He was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as she grabbed the hem of the dress to slip it off.
Harry’s throat ran dry at the sight of her naked body. She was shaped beautifully, her ribs showing when she lifted her arms high. A little flower tattoo below her right breast and a dip in her waist before the showing of full thighs.
He licked his lips involuntary and Lavender’s heartbeat quickened when she watched the way his hand pressed down on his crotch for a slight bit of relief. It boosted her ego and she approached him, “Lay back.”
Harry did what asked easily, making himself comfortable before urging Lavender to climb on top of him.
“Take off your panties.” He urged and Lavender shook her head, her cheeks a soft pink as insecurity took over. Her thighs were split on each side of Harry’s head as he linked his hands around her legs to grab her ass. Her hands steadied on the headboard and she stared into his eyes. Harry’s breath felt hot on her core and Lavender shuddered softly before carefully lowering herself.
Harry parted his lips to lick up her panties, attempting to taste her through the lace. His fingers dug into her skin as he moaned, “Fuck – Lav, take them off.” He gritted. Lavender shook her head again, her thighs burning as she held herself up and searched for a rhythm. His tongue was wet, pressing into her clit and Lavender moaned softly.
Harry urged her to sit down fully but Lavender fought his grip. He groaned in protest, “Lavender, fucking sit down on my mouth.” He slapped her ass and she squeaked, toes curling into the bedding at the feeling. They locked eyes and he could see the way she hardly knew what to do with herself.
“Fucking brat.” He hissed, grabbing her hip to throw her off. Lavender yelped as she fell back into the bed and Harry was quickly on top of her again, “Too proud to admit you don’t even know what’s good for you.” He grumbled in frustration, yanking her underwear down her thighs to leave her fully naked. 
Lavender hardly had the time to blink before his palms spread her thighs for him and he dove in without warning. His tongue slipped between her folds and he locked his lips around her clit to give a harsh suck.
“Harry!” Lavender cried out his name, throwing her head back as her body shook in sudden pleasure. He hummed against her, “There we go, that’s it.” With her arousal on his lips he kissed higher, spitting down on one of her nipples before sucking the bud between his lips too. Lavender couldn’t remember how to breathe when Harry handled her body like he had been fucking her all his life. He knew exactly where to touch her, better than she knew it herself.
Lavender thought she knew what she liked, but Harry touched her like no one had before. Soon, his mouth was back between her legs to salaciously let his tongue do the apologizing for him. He spelled a hidden message on her clit and his lips passionately kissed around her folds before he pushed his tongue inside her.
The sounds leaving Lavender’s lips were filthy to say the least. She moaned and whimpered and gasped as he pleasured her, not caring that the neighbouring rooms could probably hear it all. 
“God – Harry… Oh my god.” Lavender breathed as he flexed his tongue inside of her, eating her like it was his last meal. “Like that?” He panted as he sucked in a desperate breath. His fingers prodded around her cunt as he pushed in two at the same time, hooking them up so the tips of his digit massaged her sweet spot.
Lavender’s eyes rolled back and she shuddered, head lolling to the side. Harry watched, licking over her clit, “Lav.” He hissed, “Like that?” He repeated. 
“Uh-h-huh.” She stammered, “Fuck, Harry… just like that. R-Right there.” Her fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked his tongue over her pulsing clit, “Right there, hm?” He pushed his fingers in deeper and she gasped, “Y-Yes! I’m gonna cum.” She whimpered.
“I know.” He tutted. His shoulders pushed against her thighs to open her up more and his mouth worked her clit as he fingered her – gently yet purposefully. With each stroke, Lavender tensed up more until he felt a harsh clench around his digits. He flicked his eyes up to see her spasming and whimpering, her mouth open and her fingers clawing at the sheets. 
He kept her going a little longer until Lavender crawled away from him with a high whine, “S-Stop – I’m –“ She gasped and Harry hummed, kissing the inside of her thigh before gently pulling his wet fingers out. He used his tongue to clean her up a little bit, avoiding her sensitive clit but needing every drop of her arousal in his mouth. 
Lavender laid panting on the bed, her thighs trembling as Harry ate her out. She gasped every time his nose bumped her clit and eventually he hummed, “Sweet little pussy.” He murmured – almost more to himself than to her. He kissed her thighs and then her hips, her waist, her tits and her neck and then her lips. “Good?” He asked between kisses and Lavender simply hummed, “Y-Yeah.”
“How come you don’t know what you like, hm?” Harry took a moment to let her rest even if his dick was fucking suffocating in his pants. Lavender blinked up at him, Harry resting between her thighs as she managed a shrug, “I-I don’t know. No-one has ever – uh… taken the time. I suppose.”
“’S not about time.” Harry shook his head as he kissed her chin, “It’s about paying attention.”
Lavender felt the feeling in her body returning, her fingers lazily playing with Harry’s curls as she hummed, “Well, thank you for paying attention.”
“Gladly. Fuck, that was amazing.” He kissed her pouty lips again, obsessed with the feeling, “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Almost.” Lavender teased, a small smile playing on her lips. Harry breathed out a chuckle and kissed her neck, sighing out, “Lav – I’d love to lay here and chat but I’m really fucking dying over here.” He spoke in a strained voice. 
Lavender hummed, running her hands down Harry’s naked back. He was muscular and quite ripped – her fingers tracing his bulging muscles until reaching the waistband of his pants, “Take off your pants.” Lavender spoke.
Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed up his knees and quickly undid the button and zipper of his slacks, revealing light grey briefs underneath.
His bulge was rather ginormous and Lavender pressed her thighs together at the sight as Harry got up his feet to rid himself of his clothes completely. “Fuck.” She whimpered when his hard cock slapped up his tummy, leaving a glistening streak of precum on his skin between the two fern tattoos decorating his hips.
Lavender rolled on her tummy and climbed to the edge of the bed where Harry stood. He stared at the length of her back and her plump ass, slightly red from the slap he gave her earlier. Lavender rested on her elbows and stroked her fingers up his thighs, peering up at him.
Harry understood without having to ask. He took hold of his cock around the base and tapped the tip into her bottom lip, “Gonna suck me off, baby?”
“Yes.” Lavender nodded. Harry hummed and brushed her hair away, “Knew you were gonna be a good girl to me. This your way of telling me you’re sorry too?”
Lavender’s thighs clenched again and she quickly nodded, “Yes.” She obediently opened her mouth and Harry groaned, guiding himself in. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, needing a bit of time to adapt to the size of him. She hadn’t done this in a while and relaxed her throat as Harry was careful too.
Her lips wrapped around his shaft as Lavender hummed, wiggling her tongue over the veins of his cock before putting pressure around his tip. Harry’s toes curled into the carpet he was standing on as he threw his head back, “Holy shit – Lav… S-So good. Again.” He grabbed her hair in his fist and Lavender did as told, sucking and hollowing out her cheeks.
One of her hands came to cup his balls and play with him as her mouth tried to take as much as possible of him. His cock was glistening in her spit as Lavender deepthroated him, gagging slightly as Harry thrusted forward.
He moaned out when her throat tightened around the head of his throbbing cock, his thighs trembling at the feeling, “Yes – baby, so fucking tight.” 
Lavender hummed in response, giving his balls a squeeze and Harry gasped, quickly yanking her hair and pulling back. Lavender coughed slightly at the feeling, her throat a little sore. Lines of spit webbed between her lips and his twitching cock as Harry panted out harshly. He held her hair tightly and Lavender stared at him until he shook his head, “Gonna finish inside you. Don’t think I’m done apologizing yet.”
Lavender swallowed as Harry pushed at her shoulder, making her tumble back on the sheets until he grabbed her hip and rolled her over. Lavender saw stars from the quick rolling around, her hair flying around as she found herself on her stomach. Harry’s fingers locked around her hips, pulling her up and pushing his knees between hers to spread her.
She was speechless and breathless, her fingers digging into the comforter as Harry scooted in behind her. Lavender swallowed and glanced at him over her shoulder, her cheeks pink from the compromised position she was in, “Do you have –“
“Yes.” Harry cut her off, holding up the condom in his hand. Lavender nodded, “Okay.” She breathed. Harry kneaded her ass, ripping the package with his teeth until rolling the rubber down his shaft. He saw Lavender shivering as he hovered over her, and he placed his hands next to her head to kiss her shoulder, “You okay?”
“Yes.” She nodded, “Please.”
“Please what?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Harry raised his brows, raising up again and placing both palms on her ass, digging his fingers in warning, “Lavender.” He pressed. She kept her lips closed together and Harry raised his hand, slapping her once. Lavender squeaked through her teeth, “Please, fuck me.” She choked out.
He couldn’t fight the smirk on his lips. Harry soothed her reddened skin with his hand as he guided himself to Lavender’s wet pussy. His tip caught with her entrance, “Do you forgive me then?”
Lavender couldn’t think straight, a breath stuck in her throat when Harry inched forward. His thick cock pushed inside her, her walls expanding as his tip popped in. Harry’s fingers tightened around her ass cheeks as he felt her warmth and wetness snugly welcoming him. God she was tight.
“Lav, do you forgive me?” Harry panted. Lavender tensed her shoulders as Harry filled her slowly, “Y-Yes.” She whimpered. Harry clenched his jaw and slammed forward, making Lavender scoot up on the bed, “Can’t hear you.” He gritted. Lavender cried out and dropped her head forward, thighs shaking as Harry’s cock filled her, “Yes!” She sobbed, “Fuck – yes, I-I forgive you.”
“Good girl.” Harry whispered, leaning over her again. Her hair was wrapped around his fist as he cocked her back, making Lavender gasp. Her cheeks were red and her mouth open as Harry started moving. Quick, sharp thrusts into her wetness. He grunted into her shoulder, “Jesus christ.” Harry cursed, “Wet little slut.”
“Oh god.” Lavender croaked as her back arched more. Harry straightened up and held one hand on her hair, the other on her shoulder to push her down and immobilizing her. His hips were relentless as he pounded her into the bedding, the headboard slamming into the wall with each thrust. Lavender moaned, tears streaming down her cheeks, “H-Harry…” She sobbed, “I’ve never…”. 
“You’ve never what?” He panted. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up, her back pressed against his chest as Harry pulled her up on his lap to fuck her like that. Lavender’s head rested on his shoulder as she whimpered out, “I-I’ve never been fucked like this.” She confessed in a daze. Harry kissed her neck and gave her breast a squeeze before venturing his hand more south, between her legs, “I can tell. Are you gonna cum again?”
“Yes.” Lavender breathed and Harry puckered his lips, “C’mon, baby… Let me feel your tight pussy squeezin’ my cock.” His fingers found her clit and Lavender slumped against his chest. Her breathing stuttered as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning back further but needing something to hold onto.
“Good.” Harry panted, continuing the sharp pumps of his hips to fuck into her, “Good, good, good.” He rubbed her clit and Lavender breathed harder, “I’m – oh god… Harry…” She whimpered, suddenly shuddering and trembling. Harry held her tighter and didn’t stop the torture of his fingers until he felt her squirting.
Lavender’s orgasm was wet and endless, her arousal spilling past Harry’s cock as she gushed every time he brushed into her g-spot. She moaned and cried out as Harry elongated her orgasm. Lavender eventually fell forward, Harry grabbing her hips to follow along as he continued snapping his hips. 
Her thighs trembled uncontrollably as Lavender sobbed into the bedding, squeezing her legs together until Harry lost contact and slipped out. He made Lavender roll on her back but she curled into a ball in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry chuckled and snuggled against her, wrapping his arm around her. She was warm and sweaty and Harry brushed her hair away, kissing her jaw, “You okay?”
“Oh my god.” Lavender whimpered, “I’m – wow.”
“Wow you say?” Harry teased, “I mean, I get that I’m good but wow…”
“Shut up.” She groaned, blinking her eyes open. Harry smiled and Lavender giggled back. They rolled around the sheets for a bit and they kissed a little bit. Harry nipped below her ear, “I made you squirt.”
“Hm, you did.” Lavender lazily responded. Harry kissed lower, “I want a taste.”
Lavender’s eyes opened quickly, “Wh – Harry, I don’t think I can d-“
“Shh.” He tutted, shuffling between her thighs. Lavender hardly stopped him and then relaxed into the bed as she felt his tongue on her. He wasn’t as purposeful or harsh with it as the first time. He lazily ate her out, being gentle and passionate again. Lavender sighed and hummed in bliss until Harry hovered over her again. His lips were wet in her arousal and Lavender chuckled, pulling him in for a kiss.
“Can you believe we missed this for six months? Think of all the times I could’ve had you like this.” Harry rolled them over again until Lavender was on top of him. She hummed and straightened up, pushing her tits together, “You were too busy being an asshole.”
“Shut up and ride me.” Harry grinned. Lavender threw her head back in a laugh, glancing at his dick which was still full hard. Harry followed her gaze and exhaled as she sat on his thighs, “Wish I could fill you up.” He admitted.
Lavender bit her lip and leaned over him, giving Harry a kiss, “Well, why don’t we take it off?”
“What? The condom?” He frowned.
“Mhm.” She nibbled her lip, “I’m – uh… I’m clean.”
Harry threw his head back, grabbing her thighs as he lowly groaned, “Shit, Lav… Are you serious?”
Lavender blushed softly, “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable with it.”
“No, fuck, I’m not uncomfortable. Not at all.” He urged her to rest on top of him a bit more, hard cock trapped between their tummies as he brushed her hair away, “You wanna feel it, don’t you?” He murmured. 
Lavender softly grinded into him and Harry puffed out a soft moan before continuing, “You want to feel how I cum inside you? How I fill you up?” His free hand travelled down her side until teasingly slapping her ass cheek. Lavender gasped and scooted up a bit, sitting on top of his dick now and grinding back and forth.
“You want to feel how I fucking claim you?” Harry cupped her jaw and Lavender panted out, managing a nod, “Yes.”
“So filthy.” He whispered, “Such a filthy little slut for my cock. ‘S really all you needed, isn’t it? A good fuck? A pussy full of cum?”
“Fuck.” She panted, eyes glazing over in lust. Lavender’s hand slipped between them as she removed the condom, tossing it somewhere to the side and off the bed. She then started stroking him gently as they shared a few breathy kisses. Lavender eventually positioned him, feeling Harry moan into her mouth and cup her jaws when she sunk down on him.
She took it slow, feeling how sore she was after the way he fucked her before. But Harry needed an orgasm and he needed Lavender to get him there. So he let her explore him. She straightened up as she searched for a rhythm, Harry sprawled out below her. His eyes were hooded as he stared up at her. Bouncing tits, wild untamed hair, swivelling hips as she took him. 
“So sexy.” He slurred as Lavender started bouncing. His jaw dropped, moaning out in bliss as her warmth engulfed his cock easily. He knew she was struggling. She was sore and her thighs burned and ached from how the night had gone until now. His hands were on her legs, helping her move.
She felt amazing without a condom. He felt her so clearly, and she felt him too. Every vein wrapped around his cock pressed into her walls and Lavender leaned over him again, both hands next to his head as she arched out her back. Her eyes closed, her mouth open as she fucked him.
“Fuck – Lav, ‘m not gonna last.” Harry groaned, his hips restless as they bucked up and they met halfway. “F-Faster, please.” He choked out. Lavender nodded. She felt the way his fingers dug into her hips and how he slammed up inside of her. She picked up the pace, ignoring the burn and strain in her thighs.
“I’m gonna cum.” Harry moaned, “Shit – baby, ‘m gonna cum so hard. Fill you up so fucking good.” He clawed at her shoulders, jerking his hips up sharply until his jaw dropped and his back arched. His eyes screwed shut as Harry shakily grunted, hissing through his teeth as his cock pulsed inside of Lavender. 
She panted out, continuing the bucking of her hips as he released inside of her. 
“Holy shit.” Harry moaned, “Just like that, just like that, just like that. Take it.” He stayed deep inside of her, giving Lavender every drop of his orgasm. She whimpered at the feeling, sliding her hands up his chest and into his neck before she dropped down on top of him. Harry hummed, wrapping his arms around her form as his eyes fluttered shut.
Both relaxed and melted into the bed. His fingers stroked her side gently and Lavender regained her breathing, puffing out into his sweaty neck. Harry kissed her shoulder, feeling Lavender clenching sporadically around him as he was still inside of her.
“Lav.” He eventually murmured. She grumbled something back and Harry exhaled, “’M about to fall asleep.”
“Oh.” Lavender untangled herself from him and straightened up with slightly pink cheeks. She shifted and then slowly lifted off of him, making Harry gasp in sensitivity. His cock slipped out, drops of his cum leaking out of Lavender as she clumsily rolled on the bed next to him, “I’ll get going, let you sleep.”
“What?” Harry rolled on his side too, watching as she reached for the tissues, “that’s not what I meant.” He added. Lavender looked at him over her shoulder as she sat on the edge of the bed, “It’s fine, Harry.”
He huffed, “I’m not kicking you out. Not at all. Just meant we should clean up and get to sleep. Maybe we should sleep in your room? Bed’s dirty.” He yawned. She froze when staring at him, “You… you want to sleep together?”
“Well, yeah.”
Her cheeks pinked further and Lavender reached for her dress, “Uh – yeah. Okay.”
“Unless you don’t want me to.” Harry added. She forced a small smile, “No, it’s fine. But yeah, I feel like we should shower. I’m gonna shower in my own room though, all of my stuff is there.” She pulled the dress over her head to cover herself up and ran her hands through her hair. Harry was still naked on the bed, watching with slight amusement how Lavender searched for her panties amongst the pieces of clothing that littered the floor.
She sheepishly held them up once she found them, bunching them in her fist as she headed to the door, “So – uh… yeah.” She mumbled and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “I’ll come to your room after I shower. 412, right?”
“Yep.” Lavender exhaled. She shot him another awkward wave before exiting the room and leaving Harry on his own. Lavender let out a few deep breaths as she roamed the halls, luckily not bumping into anyone. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun seemed to rise already once she got into her own room. Bed untouched, sheets crisp and clean. The room was basically unused.
Lavender slipped off the dress again and jumped into the shower while Harry did the same. He washed up and squirted some shampoo in his hand to wash his hair. He saw some marks on his chest from where Lavender’s mouth had been. His dick was sensitive and tingly, a hiss escaping his lips as he washed himself.
Eventually Harry put on sweatpants and a shirt, taking a small bag of toiletries with him as he headed towards Lavender’s room. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. Their moment had been broken of course, by showering separately. Maybe she wasn’t done in the shower, or maybe she had fallen asleep already. Or maybe she changed her mind and wouldn’t let him in.
His knuckles came down on her door after a few minutes and Harry anxiously shifted in the hallway, glancing left and right to make sure no one could see him slipping into her room. The first shock was that Lavender did open up the door, with wet hair hanging over her shoulder and her face bare of make-up.
His lips curled up into a smile, “Hi.”
“Hey.” She breathed, opening the door a bit wider. “Had a good shower?”
Harry nodded, “Yeah. You?”
“Mhm.”
She wore cotton underwear and a t-shirt with rips in it. Lavender shifted on her feet a bit, arms crossed in front of her chest, “So – uh… which side of the bed do you want?”
Harry chuckled and walked up to her, cupping her cheeks for a deep kiss. Lavender sighed out through her nose, kissing him back and losing all awkwardness or shyness around him. She wasn’t sure what Harry wanted by sleeping here or how tomorrow would go. But tonight had been incredible. She was sore and achy, but Lavender didn’t want it any other way.
Sex with Harry had been so amazing. Their tension made for great chemistry too. They would never be best friends but this was the longest they had gone without arguing. No one had ever made her cum that hard and Lavender had never had sex like that before. It was true, that she hardly knew what she liked in bed. In the past she mainly slept with men who searched for their own pleasure. No one had ever paid her such attention.
Harry tasted like toothpaste as they kissed, and Lavender pushed up her toes as he pulled her into his chest. They pulled back with a little smack and he patted her ass with an easy grin on his lips, “Whichever side you’re on. I like spooning.”
They awoke a few hours later, a mess of tangled limbs between the sheets. Harry had spooned Lavender to sleep and they woke up in a similar position. Lavender was quite grumpy and Harry kissed her neck and chest, prying off the shirt to make her feel better and wake her up properly.
They kissed and cuddled until they knew they needed to check out. Harry kissed her as he went back to his own room to pack his stuff.
With his bags, he went to the reception downstairs and bumped into Tristan – who asked him all about the hickey in his neck and the tiredness in Harry’s eyes. Apparently Tristan and Serena didn’t even have sex, and Harry felt smugly proud of the fact that he actually did have incredible sex.
His eyes were drawn to Lavender immediately when she entered the room, carrying just a small suitcase with her stuff in it. Her hair was curly and up in a ponytail as she wore black slacks, sneakers and a crop top. She looked radiant and Harry zoned out, ignoring Tristan as his eyes were on Lavender.
She was smiling and chatting with Serena and they eventually came up to Harry and Tristan. The newlyweds would leave for their honeymoon tonight and everyone sort of got ready to leave. They hauled their bags into he cars and Lavender slowly walked up to Harry’s car as he was putting his stuff in.
“Hey.” She breathed. He turned around with a small smile, “Hi, you.”
Lavender leaned against his car, playing with a strand of her hair, “So – uh… any plans today?”
“Not much.” He shrugged, “Just sleep, I think. You?”
“Yeah, same. It’s been a wild six months.”
They fell into some silence before Lavender cleared her throat, “Listen… Thank you for last night. I had a lot of fun and… yeah.”
“You’re thanking me for sex?” Harry teased and Lavender rolled her eyes, “Don’t make this weird.”
“I’m not.” He laughed, stepping up to her. His hand rested on her bare waist and Lavender immediately looked around to make sure no one saw them. Harry kept his eyes on her, “Can we see each other again?” He braved through his nerves to ask the question that had been on his mind ever since laying eyes on her in the lavender-shaded dress.
Lavender’s eyes rounded as she stared up at him, “Wait – really? Like… for sex?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, “Or, you know… maybe we really could get along. Become besties.”
“Doubt that.”
“Ouch.” He chuckled. Lavender softly smiled and exhaled, “Look, I-I think we both knew what this was. We’ve been at each other’s throats ever since we met. I don’t know if we should make this into more than what it was.”
Harry’s smile dropped a bit and he nibbled the inside of his cheek, “Maybe not. But it might be worth a shot to see if it could go somewhere, don’t you think?” He pressed. Lavender avoided his eyes and scratched the back of her neck, “Maybe one date.” She gave in.
Harry’s beaming smile made Lavender chuckle too. He tapped his thumb on her chin gently, “One date, hm? How about I come over this afternoon and we can talk all about it?”
“This afternoon? That obsessed with me now?” Lavender teased and Harry hummed, eyes dropping to her lips, “Yes, actually. ‘M fucking whipped.” He wrapped an arm around her again, “I’ll come over and spoon you back to sleep. We can nap through the afternoon and…” He leaned in a bit more, “maybe I’ll wake you up with my mouth. Seemed like you enjoyed that.”
Lavender’s cheeks turned pink and she tried to fight it, humming, “I did quite like the way you apologized to me. Very… thorough.”
“Thorough, hm? That’s one way to put it.” Harry played along. He didn’t care who saw as he dipped his head to kiss her pink lips. Lavender didn’t pull back either, a hand delicately being placed on his bicep as he lingered on the touch. She tasted like cherry. His heart skipped ten beats as he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Maybe I’ll fuck up again just so I can apologize.”
“Yeah,” Lavender shrugged, “like hit me with your car this time or something.”
He threw his head back in a laugh, playfully squeezing her ass once, “Get home, you dick. ‘M tired.”
She stuck out her tongue and took a step back, smiling at him, “See you in a bit.”
“I’ll drive behind you.” Harry nodded, opening up his car door, “Bye, Lav.”
“Bye, Harry. Drive safe.” She sent him a small wave with a blinding smile on her face, turning around to head home and spend the rest of the day with Harry.
764 notes · View notes
iamred-iamyellow · 5 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ The Last Great American Dynasty
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♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request
♥ pairing: logan sargeant x fem!driver!reader
♥ synopsis: logan gets replaced at williams mid season by you, his girlfriend. luckily his racing career and f1 story is not over yet.
♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing, hate comments, and james vowels slander !!!
♥ a/n: logan gets the happy ending he deserves (by taking james' job lol).
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-August 26, 2024-
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, susie_wolff, and 3,592,602 more
williamsracing Y/n L/n to race for the remainder of the 2024 season
view comments
logansargeant proud of you ❤️
yourusername thank you logie. I can't wait to see where racing takes us both. I love you ❤️
user6 the fact that he's still so supportive of her... I love them your honor 🥺
alex_albon You gave it your all brother and it’s been a pleasure being teammates with you. I know whatever you do next, you’ll be awesome. I can't wait to race along side you as well @/yourusername. Lets make history.
user9 HOW ARE WE FEELING LOLEX NATION 😭
user1 the tears that are coming out of my eyes right now
user2 😧
user7 I felt my heart break in real time
user4 ... james I am in your fucking walls
user5 I am so proud of y/n but damn.
user21 can someone explain please??
user7 logan, the driver y/n is replacing is her boyfriend
user9 I cried.
user60 imagine taking your own BOYFRIENDS job. he deserves so much better
user51 poor logan 💔
user10 lets not let the sad news about logan leaving impact our support for y/n. shes the first woman to race in f1 in a VERY long time and that's an incredible achievement
user3 say it louder for the people in the back
user12 this !!!
user4 James vowels is the common enemy
user8 @/user4 TRUE
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
-Logan's Insta Story-
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liked by logansargeant, susie_wolff, lilymhe, and 609,427 more
yourusername oh look i’m winning
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user1 yes you are queen
user2 you don’t have to brag 😔
user5 POINTS
landonorris @/logansargeant maybe you should get her a dog
pierregasly 💀
user1 landooo 😭
user8 how is she so gorgeous
user9 oh to be y/n
user6 prove the haters wrong !!!
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liked by yourusername, patriciooward, Indycar, and 984,582 more
logansargeant back in blue
tagged; @/andrettiindy
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yourusername 🩵
logansargeant 🩵
patriciooward good to see you again
user7 SHUT THE FUCK UP NOT ANDRETTI SIGNING HIM FOR 2025
user9 HAHAHA
user3 the personal beef andretti has with f1 is inspiring 😩
user8 WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER 🦅🇺🇸
user5 lets go logan
user1 oh we are SO back.
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, andrettiindy, and 2,459,302 more
logansargeant today I got the privilege of marrying the most talented, beautiful, and kind woman I have ever met. you have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I am honored that you chose me to support you throughout the future of yours. I love you so much
comments are limited
f1 our favorite paddock couple
indycar double it and give it to the next motorsport
alex_albon congratulations to the both of you!
lilyzneimer thank you for making me your maid of honor 🥹 you looked absolutely stunning today
yourusername lilyyyy 😭🫶
williamsracing so who caught the boquet? 👀
yourusername lily mhe 🤭
lilymhe we might be needing those brides maid dresses again soon
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-December 2035-
It has just been announced that former F1 driver Logan Sargeant and his wife, Y/n L/n will be the new team principal and CEO of Williams Racing.
The F1 American Dynasty
If you're unfamiliar with the story of Sargeant you may not understand the significance of this change for Williams. He had a spot on the grid during 2023-2024 before being dropped mid-season and replaced by his now wife Y/n L/n. He then went on to drive for Andretti, an American Indycar team and Y/n won four championships during her time in F1. The two of them have continued to carry on the legacy of American drivers in Formula 1, encouraged by the Andretti family.
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liked by andrettiindy, susie_wolff, oscarpiastri, and 1,362,503 more
yourusername CEO life
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lilymhe GORGEOUS
yourusername no YOU <33
williamsracing glad to have you back @/logansargeant
user2 even admin is a logan fan
user4 oh FUUUCK YEA
user7 stop the middle picture-
user9 I want what they have 😭
user1 their ULTIMATE revenge
user12 fuck james vowels
user3 all my homies hate james vowels
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end notes: thank you so much for reading! even though logan isn't on the grid I'll still have a few fics coming out for him soon <3
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raven-dor · 5 months ago
Note
I saw your recent Edmund fic and I’m obsessed!
Could you do one where Edmund gets super jealous/overprotective with reader? I love possessive Edmund!
mine all mine
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the four times in which edmund discovers that he is overprotective of his wife, and the one time she proves to him she can take care of herself
PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader
WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, typical Narnia violence, fluff ending
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
AN: This is set during the Golden Age, so all of them are adults!! also your title is fair, as in an adjective for just, not at all a description of what the reader looks like!!
part two (mine, all mine, all mine)
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one.
He hadn’t meant to listen in to his wife’s meeting, really. But when he noticed Lord Eluna raising his voice, he couldn’t help but linger outside of the door, his hand on his sword's hilt. Y/N’s constantly calm voice interrupted the seething lord. “While I understand the importance of this situation, it does not warrant you to act poorly towards your queen, Lord Eluna.” 
The man scoffed. “By marriage. A marriage which could be easily annulled, seeing as you have not produced his grace any heirs.” 
Y/N laughed, seemingly not phased by his comment. “We are not in desperate need of any heirs, my lord. If you haven’t noticed, we have a plethora of rulers. Unless you are planning something that would warrant the need of heirs.” She paused, and Edmund could only assume the look on her face, the one she typically made when she was proving him wrong. "Are you?"  
“How dare you insinuate-” 
Edmund forced down a laugh, barging into the room. “My lords.” 
The table of twelve men stood, bowing to their superior. Half hearted ‘Your Grace’s’ were thrown Edmund’s way, but he could not care less. He looked at the man who was still glaring daggers at his wife. “Lord Eluna.” 
“Your Grace.” He tore his eyes from the young queen. “We were just-”
“Yes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I heard. And while I appreciate your obviously kind and thoughtful concern, my wife and I do not need your advice on that particular matter.” 
Y/N turned bright red, widening her eyes when all the lord's jaws dropped. “Edmund-” 
“I’m sure whatever you were meeting about can be postponed.” Edmund looked around the table, waiting for an answer. “Well?” The lords clambered, nodding quickly in agreement. He smirked and walked over to his wife, holding out his arm for her to hold. “My love.” 
She rolled her eyes but still hooked her arm through his. “You are quite dramatic.” 
He laughed, ignoring the prying eyes around them. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The couple walked out the doors, giggling when they knew the lords could no longer hear them. Edmund frowned, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Do they always treat you so horribly?” 
“You cannot keep doing this, Ed.” She sighed.
“What am I do-” 
She glared at him. “You know what you’re doing. They will never learn to respect me if you keep coming to my defense.” 
“It’s been two years. They should have respected you the minute I married you. Actually-” He scoffed. “They should respect you because it’s the right thing to do.” 
They walked into their chambers, collapsing onto the bed. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in as she traced shapes into his chest. “You're a gallant and honorable man, Edmund, much more than your lords. But you know as well as I that those old malcontents will never respect me until I give them a reason to.” 
“I wish it wasn’t so.” He leaned down, kissing her temple. “You are a much better leader than me.” 
She scoffed, leaning into his touch. “Not true.”
“Yes.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “You are.” 
“If I am..." She appeased him. "It is only because I’ve watched you and your siblings rule with kindness and justice for so long. Please do not put yourself down for my sake.” She stretched up, kissing him gently. “Never put yourself down; you are too perfect for that.” 
“If you insist.” He smiled, feeling lovesick. How could he not? The most beautiful woman in all of Narnia, or, more accurately, the universe, lay beside him.
Of course, he felt lovesick.
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two.
“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled mischievously at her husband. “How old are you now? Eighty?” 
He glared, kissing her cheek softly. “What a charmer you are.” 
She nodded and took a deep breath, straightening her dress as they prepared to enter the ballroom. “Well, you didn’t marry me for my baking skills.” 
He rolled his eyes. “Your baking skills are perfectly adequate.” 
She scoffed, looking up at him once more. “Don’t lie to me, Edmund Pevensie.” She fought the smile that threatened to break her act. “You flatter me too much, I think.”
He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her senselessly. He had that urge constantly, but it was especially difficult at that moment. “You are a true beauty. Have I told you?”
She blushed, turning her face back towards the grand doors. “Behave.” 
He nodded, still looking at her in awe, enjoying the way her flushed cheeks complemented her dress. He had always loved her in the color blue. “Yes, ma’am.” 
The ushers opened the doors, and they stepped forward. “King Edmund the Just, and Queen Y/N the Fair.” 
The room exploded into applause for the Just King, and the pair descended the stairs, focusing on not falling in front of all their subjects. Peter, Susan, and Lucy sat on their thrones at the bottom, smiling brightly. Lucy gestured toward the Maestro, and Edmund led his wife to the middle of the ballroom. “I do wonder what they'll play.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 
“I don’t know what you mean.” 
Y/N's smile grew as their wedding waltz’s familiar intro echoed through the hall. “This isn’t fair.” 
He laughed at the irony. “Why not, my love?” 
“It is your birthday, not our anniversary.” 
He spun her around the room, whispering. “I happen to like this song.” 
“Edmund…” She blushed again. “You should have chosen a song that you love.” 
“I did.” The waltz ended, and he bowed. “It reminds me of you; why wouldn’t I love it?” 
Her eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt horrible, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, did I-” 
She leaped up, kissing him soundly. The crowd gasped, but Edmund didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back, their foreheads touching. “I don’t deserve you.” 
His heart felt full. “Quite the opposite, really.” He kissed her once more, nuzzling his nose with hers. “I love you.” 
Lucy clapped her hands, pulling the crowd's attention away from the happy couple. “Thank you all so much for attending my brother’s 24th birthday ball!” The room erupted into cheers. Lucy smiled. “Help yourselves to the buffet, or take to the dance floor. Happy Birthday, dear brother.”
The crowd dispersed, and the pair walked up to the thrones, sitting beside each other, still holding hands. Peter muttered, smirking. “Couldn’t have waited until later?” 
Edmund rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t have a love li-” 
Y/N scolded her husband. “Ed.” 
Peter glared playfully at his brother. “My love life is none of your business, thank you very much.” 
Susan laughed. “How is she?” 
Peter blushed. “She has a name.” He straightened his posture, looking out into the crowd for who Y/N could only assume they were talking about. “As perfect as ever.” 
Lucy giggled. “Have you tried talking to her?” 
Peter closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his throne. “I am getting attacked from all sides, it seems.” 
Y/N smiled. “I think it’s sweet. You seem very in love.” He smiled back, looking longingly at the buffet table, where a gorgeous maid stood handing out desserts. Y/N nudged him lightly. “You could ask her to dance.” 
He laughed, and when he realized his sister in law was not laughing, stopped. “I fear she would not like the fuss.” 
“Ah.” Y/N looked over at the girl again. “I will be right back.” 
Edmund whined. “Where are you off to?” 
“None of your business, Edmund.” She kissed his cheek quickly. “Do have fun at your own birthday party.” 
He sighed as she walked away. “How can I when you’re leaving?” 
The fair queen glided across the floor with the intention of making conversation with the girl the High King was infatuated with. She had almost reached Peter's love when a hand wrapped around her waist. She gasped, pulling herself out of the stranger’s hold. The visibly drunk lord bowed teasingly. “My Lady, would you care-” A hiccup interrupted his question. “Would you care to dance?” 
She smiled politely. “I’m afraid my card is full for the night. But thank you for the offer.” 
The man tried to speak again, but she turned around, walking back towards the maid. 
Edmund had seen the entire interaction, gripping the handles of his throne tight enough to break the solid stone. Peter whispered. “Edmund, don’t do anything rash-” 
“He just-” 
Peter gave him the stare, that older brother stare that he tried to reserve for hard moments. “He will be dealt with, trust me, but you need to be subtle-” 
Edmund stood up, stalking over to the drunken lord. Peter sighed once more. "He will be the first to give me gray hairs.” 
Susan rolled her eyes. “You are twenty-seven, Peter. You’re not graying anytime soon.” 
Edmund grabbed the lord’s arm, dragging him out to the balcony. “A nice night, isn’t it?” 
The lord was in shock, nodding. “Yes, Your Grace.” He grinned. “It is truly an honor to have been invited to your-” 
“It was a nice night.” The young king smiled condescendingly. “Until you harassed my wife.” 
“I-” The old man stuttered. “I meant no disrespect.” 
“Don’t lie to your king.” Edmund seethed. “If you ever do that again, I will rue the day, believe me.” He took a deep breath. “You will apologize to my wife, and after that, you will leave immediately. You are fortunate that I don’t ensure you are barred from the castle grounds.” 
The lord looked upset. Good, Edmund thought, serves him right. “But Your Grace-” 
“Do I make myself clear?” 
“Yes.” The old man nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.” He stumbled back into the ballroom, making a beeline for Y/N. Edmund watched from afar, smiling as she smiled, actually genuinely smiled. Then he frowned when she let him kiss her hand. Oh, how he wanted to have him banished. 
Y/N made her way to the balcony, shaking her head at her proud husband. “What have you done?” 
“Nothing. Why do you assume-” 
“Edmund.” She crossed her arms. “You must stop.” 
“What?” He laughed. “Stop protecting you?” 
“Yes!” She yelled, exasperated from his constant watching eye. “I had it handled.” 
“He harassed you.” 
“Thank you Edmund.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, something Edmund did not appreciate at the moment. “I wasn’t aware.” 
“My love.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will protect you. It pains me to see you go through these things.” 
She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man, Edmund.” 
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 
“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But if we make a fuss about every lord who gets handsy while they’re drunk, the ballroom will be empty.” 
He rolled his eyes. “Good. Get rid of the whole lot of them. I would rather it just be you and I anyhow.” 
Y/N gasped, smacking his chest lightly. “Edmund!” 
“No one should have to deal with that.” 
“Well, I agree. But you can’t-” 
“Good.” He nodded, ignoring the fact that he just interrupted her. “Who were you talking to after that incident?” 
“Peter’s love.” She smiled. “That girl is quite kind. Spirited, too.” 
Edmund laughed, pulling Y/N in. “Perfect for Peter then.” 
She hummed, leaning her head on his chest as they looked back into the ballroom. “Perfect for Peter.” 
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three.
It had been Edmund’s idea to go on an afternoon ride. Y/N had reminded him of the recent attacks that they were investigating, but he’d ignored her. Their horses galloped through the fall woods, leaves falling as they flew through. Phillip muttered. “Her horse is much younger than me, no wonder she keeps beating me.” 
Y/N’s horse, Vilja, laughed. “Perhaps you are simply slow, Phillip.” 
Y/N fought against the laugh that threatened to spill out. “Now Vilja, play nice. Remember, Phillip has to hold Edmund and his ego.” 
Edmund scoffed, shoving his wife playfully as they slowed. “What happened to playing nice?” 
They tied the horses beside each other, walking through the woods leisurely. “It is perfect outside, is it not?” 
Y/N nodded, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is.” She smiled as the lantern came into view. “It’s been too long.” 
Edmund hummed. “We’re happy here.” He looked down, his heart beating fast. “You would tell me if you weren't happy, I hope.” 
“Of course, Edmund.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here. I only meant we’ve been here for a long time. After all, it has been thirteen years.” She looked back at the lantern, pulling Edmund along with her. “I wonder how long it’s been there.” 
He laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Who cares?” 
“Edmund…” She leaned into his touch. Feeling mischievous, she pulled out of his hold, sprinting further into the woods. 
Edmund groaned, chasing after her. “This was funnier the first time.” 
The nymphs giggled as they watched the couple run through the woods. Edmund spun in the clearing, squinting as he tried to find his wife. “Y/N, you know I’ll find-” A piercing scream broke the joyful nature of their fun, and his heart sank. “Y/N?” He waited for her response, another scream echoing through the forest. He ran towards her, unsheathing his sword. “Y/N!” He broke through the woods, finding his wife backed against a tree, a wolf growling in front of her. Edmund stood in between them, pointing the sword at the wolf’s head. “We don’t want to harm you.” 
The wolf simply growled. Odd. Edmund whispered. “Stay still, my love.” He stepped forward, addressing the wolf once more. “You have one more chance to leave us. We won’t harm you if you do so, you have my word.”
The wolf leaned back, lunging at Edmund, and he slashed his sword, killing the animal in a single blow. Y/N stood silent behind him, staring at the ground. “I thought all animals spoke in Narnia.” 
“So did I.” Edmund knelt beside it, checking for any witchcraft of any sort. 
Y/N smiled sympathetically, kneeling beside him. “She’s gone.” 
“He was wild. There had to have been-” Edmund was silenced by a gentle kiss. He blushed. “What was that-” She kissed him once more, smiling. 
“Edmund, she is gone. For good. And you saved me.” She mumbled. “Even though I could have reached for my sword-” 
He rolled his eyes, standing up and extending his hand. “Let me guess? You had it handled?” 
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four.
She was radiant in that blue dress, Edmund observed from afar. After he had expressed his love of her in the color, she had ensured that almost all her dresses were that light blue. The rest of her dresses were her favorite color, which Edmund loved on her almost as much. 
Unfortunately, others enjoyed looking at his wife as well. Lately, in Edmund’s opinion, her sworn guard had been looking at her for much too long. He was a conventionally attractive man, Edmund could admit, but he didn’t like that the young knight was looking at his wife the way Edmund himself looked at her. 
He hadn’t brought it up to Y/N, not wanting to be called overprotective for the hundredth time. So he watched from afar, making sure that the knight didn’t make any untoward actions towards her. 
They were currently in the garden, and Y/N was smelling the flowers, laughing and making polite conversation with Ser Ellington. The young man laughed back, reaching out to stable her when she stumbled over a root. Edmund clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. 
It was his job after all, to make sure his queen was safe.
But when he reached out and grabbed a flower, extending it to the kind woman, Edmund snapped. That was not his job. He practically stalked forward, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having. “My love.” He called out. “You look radiant.” 
She blushed. “Edmund, I thought you had your meeting.” 
He nodded. “I did, but we finished early, I thought I would accompany you for the rest of the day.” 
“Of course.” She looked over Edmund’s shoulder at Ser Ellington. “You are excused for the day. Thank you, Ser.” 
The knight bowed. “My Queen. Your Grace.” 
Edmund watched suspiciously as the young knight walked away, only turning back to his wife when he turned the corner. Y/N smirked, tilting her head just so. “You have no need to be jealous, my love.” She turned back to the flowers, smelling them. 
Edmund smiled guiltily, following after her like a puppy. “Can you blame me? Ser Ellington is not exactly unappealing.” 
She nodded, still not looking back at him. “He is. But I am not married to him, nor do I sleep in the same bed as him every night.” Edmund turned bright red. “Am I wrong?” 
“You are not, but you have to understand. You’re a beautiful woman, I can’t help but worry that someone will steal you away.” 
She rolled her eyes, turning around. “Do you really think I would hurt you so?” 
“No-” 
“What have I done to make you assume so? I love you; I made a vow to you.” She crossed her arms. “Am I just a prize to you that you desperately need to cling to?” 
“Of course not.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m madly in love with you, and the thought of you leaving me, the simple thought…” He pulled her closer, whispering. “Drives me mad.” 
“Edmund.” She glared, pulling out of his hold. “You are exaggerating.” 
He grabbed her wrist, pulling her gently back to him. “Do you really think I do not love you?” 
“I never said that.” 
He laughed. “You act as if we were not a love match. Like we didn’t discover Narnia together. I love you; I think I have since we were young.” He kissed the back of her hand delicately. “I know that I am too overprotective, and I am sorry for that…” 
She smirked with satisfaction. “Good.” 
“But can you blame me? You are a treasure, surely any other man would act that same way.” 
Y/N nodded. “Perhaps. But you are not any other man. You are Edmund Pevensie, and I know you know deep down that I can handle myself. I do not need you to watch over me like a mother hen.” She raised an eyebrow. “I also fought the White Witch, I also helped you form peace treaties, I also-”
Y/N stopped, becoming more irritable by the second when she realized Edmund wasn’t listening. He stared at her so lovingly it made her sick, and she scoffed. “I am going to the library.” 
He nodded, following after. “I shall accompany you.” 
She shook her head. “I would like to go alone.” 
He frowned. “Are you-” 
“Edmund, please.” She sighed. “I love you, but I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Without a second glance, she walked out of the garden, leaving Edmund helplessly staring at her. 
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the time she proved him wrong
They had been gone for too long, Y/N thought as she stared at the woods. They had been gone for hours longer than they said they would. She should have gone with them; who knows where they were, where Edmund was. 
She tried to calm herself down and reminded herself that neither Edmund nor his siblings would leave her in Narnia alone, but it was difficult when all of the hunt’s participants were speaking to her at once. 
“Where are they?” Lord Eluna’s voice sounded over the rest. She tried not to glare at him; she could tell the man was enjoying the sight of her under pressure. 
“I understand everyone’s worries; I have them myself, but we all know that the Kings and Queens would never leave their subjects so suddenly. Have no doubt that they will return. I am certain High King Peter and King Edmund dragged their sisters along a trail of the deer’s tracks.” Light laughter echoed through the crowd, relieving her stress slightly. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed a hand to it, rubbing it slightly. “Does anyone else have any immediate causes for concern?” 
The crowd erupted into chaos once more, and she took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I will take meetings with all of you individually in the main tent.” 
meanwhile...
Edmund sighed, staring at his older brother as he tried to convince himself the deer was nearby. “Peter, we’ve been gone for hours. If we haven’t found the deer by now, who’s to say we’ll find it later?” He practically pleaded. “We should return to camp.” 
Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because you want to get back to your wife-” 
“Peter, Edmund’s right.” Susan interrupted. “This deer isn’t important, and Y/N is there alone with the entirety of the court.” She frowned. “If it were me, I would be rather overwhelmed.” 
Edmund fell into his thoughts, staring at the ground. Lucy whispered, nudging her brother lightly. “Edmund, don’t-” 
Edmund tightened the reigns on Phillip, racing back towards the camp. Peter sighed, riding not far behind him. The dark-haired king didn’t look back; his only thought was that he had left Y/N alone with the egotistical lords of the realm. Phillip slowed, and Edmund jumped off, running towards camp. 
Everything was fine, almost too fine. It was quiet, with a slight buzz of chatter but no worried voices. He stalked toward the main tent, whipping it open. 
There sat his radiant wife, talking calmly with Lord Dolitmov. The older man saw Edmund and immediately stood, bowing. “Your Grace.” He looked back to Y/N, kissing the back of the queen’s hand gently. “Your Grace.” 
Y/N smiled, waving as he walked out of the tent. Edmund tilted his head, smiling. “What happened?” 
She laughed. "The better question would be, what happened with you?” She hugged herself, rubbing her stomach once more. Edmund made a mental note to address that later. “You were gone for so long I assumed you had returned home.” 
He shook his head, frowning as he realized how stressed she had been. “I’m sorry for the worry we caused you; I fear Peter was too fixated on finding the white steed.” 
She nodded. “I wondered.” 
He took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry that I worried you. But I must say, it is rather calm here.” 
She smirked. “I told you I can handle myself.” 
He laughed. “I believe you. Truly I do.” he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back gently. “I love you.” 
“And I you.” She walked into his arms, burying her head in his chest. “I would have died from heartbreak if you had left me.” 
“I would never.” He kissed her temple. “You know that.” 
She nodded. “I know you would never leave us.” 
He nodded back. “Correct. I would never leave-” He paused, tilting his head. “Us?” 
Y/N looked up sheepishly. “I-” Her eyes started to water. “I’m pregnant, Edmund.” 
“What?” Edmund grinned, staring at his wife in disbelief. “Really?” 
She nodded, and Edmund grabbed her waist, spinning her around the room. Y/N cackled, smacking his shoulder. “Put me down; you’re going to hurt the babe.” 
“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I can’t help it.” 
She laughed, kissing his lips softly. “I love you.” 
Edmund leaned down, kissing her soundly. “And I you.” 
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taglist: @beebeechaos
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holysupesbatman · 6 months ago
Text
SuperBat Fic Recs
Woaaaah boy. I was in the Superbat tag and saw someone asking for recs and I got about 5 fics in before I realized that wouldn't fit in a reply and decided I should just make a whole post. I feel like I've read half of the Bruce/Clark tag on ao3 at this point and yet I still find more every time I look.
As a note, this post is heavily editorialized. These are all fics I've personally read and are here because I liked them and they come from my ao3 bookmarks. If you want better details about the fic, follow the links and check them out 🤷‍♀️ I'm a picky reader so the fact that it's on the list says a lot, though our tastes may vary.
Onto the recs! I'll organize them by ratings and then by length for simplicity and at the end I'll recommend some of my favorite SuperBat authors for further reading!
🦇
Rated: G
Uno Reverse by WixenBurr (~7k rated G) is really cute and fluffy
Summary: The batkids are trying to set Batman and Superman up. Unfortunately Bruce Wayne wants to date some rando news reporter named Clark Kent.
Rated: T
Know You Better by rotasha (~6k rated T)
super fluffy and cute. I adore this fic. Summary: Clark asks Bruce on a date, not knowing he’s a famous billionaire. Bruce says yes, because this is the first time this has ever happened to him.
I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173 (~13k rated T)
This one is SO much fun – Nobody believes Clark after he meets the supposed "flirty, stupid, entitled drunk" playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne when he says he's actually "clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive."
Saudade by liodain (~20k rated T)
OK THIS ONE MAKES MY HEART MELT IT'S SO FLUFFY AND SWEET I CAN'T. Like put this on your re-read when you're sad and need to feel like love and goodness exist list. Bruce breaks down in Kansas in 2006 years before BvS and meets young Clark.
fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (~23k rated T)
It's just 20k of Clark simping for Bruce. That's it. That's the fic. He's a golden retriever and he's in love, Your Honor. Bruce is not unaffected, but the pining is glorious.
summary: Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it
Mr. Romantic by Pandamomochan (~24k rated T)
ft Established Relationship SuperBat. Summary: Clark gets tasked to write a Valentine's Day article. The end result has every single women throwing themselves at him. Clark has always been patient with the drove of Brucie fans. Will Bruce be as mature with Clark's sudden popularity?
How to Date a Superhero by @solomonara (~25k rated T)
Technically a series of fics. Pure fluff. 1. Someone spots the Batman kissing Mild Mannered Reporter Clark Kent. Hijinks ensue. 2. Superman kissed Bruce Wayne in full view of several dozen phones. Now the whole world, including Lex Luthor, knows Superman has a boyfriend. But that's okay. Batman has a plan. 3. Deleted scenes from the How to Date a Superhero series, ruthlessly cut in most cases to prevent the Robins from taking over.
In every sense of the word by froggy-o (bobafiend) (~29k rated T) From the author's summary: Alternatively titled "Why Wonder Woman is on the verge of losing her fucking mind."
I swear this fic is just Diana's eyebrow twitching as she watches Bruce and Clark start dating and she's let in on both their civilian identities meanwhile Superman and Batman are on the watchtower arguing and disagreeing about basically everything on the daily. In the name of Justice, of course. The identity porn is on a whole other level and it was done so well.
Get Over It by rotasha (~32k rated T)
heh this one has plenty of identity hijinks. Sooooo funny. Summary: Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...
the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (~96k rated T)
hehehe... the batkids set up a dating profile for Bruce and catfish Clark. It's more of a blind date for Bruce (not that he had any idea he was going on a date at all), but who has Clark been texting for the past several weeks??? Oh yeah. The kids. What follows is as follows. Still with capes!
Rated: M
Guardian Dog by BombusBombus (~22k rated M)
Summary: There's something wrong with Clark Kent. He has to be a villain, right? A threat? He doesn't behave like a normal person, no matter how handsome or clever he may seem.
grasp his heart (once and for all) by liodain (~32k rated M) soulmate AU fic. Pretty emotional LOTS of identity issues going on there like so much. Kinda high on the drama and angst there honestly but it was a cute read. Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in fate.
tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (~33k rated M)
love me a fake dating AU. Summary: It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.
Strangers When We Meet by Trista_zevkia (~63k rated M)
ANOTHER soulmate AU! This time feat. Kryptonian Biology hehehe. Summary: Clark Kent thought he was straight, until Batman kick started something. The question is what did Batman start? Is Brucie Wayne able to explain it to him?
ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat (~77k rated M)
OK NO LISTEN this is one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. It's so meta and so funny. Clark is us. We are Clark. Clark is writing RPF for the Bruce/Batman ship and he's very convinced it's real EVEN THOUGH he has a huge crush on the Batman... let the hijinks BEGIN.
Rated: E
Embracing Destiny by Mithen (~8k rated E)
This one is just really really cute. Summary: As a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st century, a teenaged Clark learns a stunning secret about his own future: he and someone called "Batman" will be legendary lovers.
perfect strangers by susiecarter (~15k rated E)
like. bruh. susie did it again. This tag says it all: communication failure. I love this one though. Summary: Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping.
Relinquishing Control by foxyk (~25k rated E)
afsfwsdfhishdfksj no words. Read the authors summary and then just go read the fic:
Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better. Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.
Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog @the-saltiest-dog (~26k rated E)
this one is cute and then horny on main but also just so fluffy. Clark sees Bruce in a new light through candid shots, then proceeds to take lots of candid shots as they begin a relationship. Cue schmoop, fluff, smut, and – you guessed it! –Miscommunication!
A Night Off and sequel A Day Off by Mawiiish (~37k combined; first part is E, second is T)
One of my all-time favorites. My bookmark says 10/10 would read again soooooooo... 👀🤷‍♀️😅🥵
Bruce is enjoying one of his few nights off when a very persistent young man offers to buy him a drink. At first he's apprehensive; he's just here for a good time and this Clark seems to be looking for more than that. Then again, what harm can one drink do?
Clark wakes up to an empty bed and despite Bruce being honest from the start, he's still disappointed.
The Downsides to a Secret Identity by liodain (~42k rated E)
I'm currently reading this one – the summary from the author says it all, it's so good but sooo drama:
Bruce Wayne has taken a shine to Clark Kent, but Clark is more interested in the Bat of Gotham. The Bat, however, has it in for the Superman in a big way. Clark should probably have considered that before falling quite so hard. They're working together to track down some missing Kryptonian weaponry, after all...
50 Shades of Wayne by susiecarter (~161k rated E)
No but listen, this is actually so full of plot and emotional depth and not as much smut as you might think. It's a full-scale retelling of Batman v Superman but without them knowing each other's secret identities. I read it in one go... the reveal? Maybe the best I've ever read. Soooo many emotions. It's one of the few times I've read BDSM in a fic and it actually felt in character. I wasn't sure I would read it when I started, but it was a compelling read and extremely well done. Honestly, I'd read it again.
SuperBat Author Shoutouts:
susiecarter @susiecarter
liodain @liodain
Resacon1990 @sassyresacon1990
shipyrds @burins
Mawiiish @superbattrash
rotasha
Mithen
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