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vanteguccir · 26 days

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Coziness, love, and other things | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N's cozy cottage becomes a refuge for Matt, but it's not just the house that encloses him, but who's inside; OR, where Matt and Y/N are in love, but afraid to confess. Until one day.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @mattscurlygirly

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Los Angeles was buzzing with life when the triplets moved there, looking for new opportunities for their YouTube career.

It was a sunny day, the day after they settled permanently in their own home, when Matt found himself wandering around the local market, on a somewhat clumsy mission to buy fruit and vegetables for a Wednesday video that Nick had come up with. He wasn't exactly an expert in grocery shopping, and the confusion of colors and smells left him a little lost.

It was then that he saw her - Y/N, standing in the middle of the fruit stands, examining a pile of apples with a serene smile on her lips. She radiated a calmness and natural beauty that instantly caught Matt's attention.

With an inexplicable impulse, Matt approached her, determined to overcome his usual shyness.

"Hi, excuse me." He began, nervous but determined. "You seem to know what you're doing here. Can you help me pick some fruit?"

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his in an instant. Her smile widened when she noticed his hesitation.

"Of course!" The girl responded, kindly. "What do you want to get?"

What started as a simple exchange of words quickly turned into a lively conversation. Matt discovered that Y/N was a plant lover and an avid supporter of local agriculture. Her passion was contagious, and he found himself sharing more stories about his own life than he expected.

When it was time to leave, Matt found himself reluctant to leave her.

"Hey, do you want to go out sometime?" He asked suddenly, his courage increasing with each word.

"I'd love to. Why don't you come over to my house on Saturday? We can do something together." Y/N smiled, her eyes shining.

Matt agreed immediately, feeling a bubbling excitement in his chest. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew there was something special about Y/N from the moment he saw her.

A week later, Matt was standing in the doorway of Y/N's house, his heart beating a little faster than normal while waiting for her. When she opened the door, her warm smile enveloped him almost instantly, dispelling all his worries.

As soon as the boy entered her home, he was immediately captivated by the warm and cozy atmosphere. It was as if he had found a refuge amidst the chaos of the city and even the crazy acceleration of his home.

Over the next few weeks, Matt found himself returning to Y/N's house more and more frequently. He couldn't resist the feeling of peace he found there, nor her company.

Gradually, his feelings for her intensified, but he was hesitant to confess. He was afraid of ruining the friendship they had built - and one of the only true ones he had created in the crazy city of LA and among so many celebrities -, and even more afraid of being rejected.

Little did he know, she felt the same way.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The gentle afternoon breeze danced across the fields around Y/N's small home, whispering secrets among the leaves of the trees and caressing the petals of the flowers in her garden. The golden sun cast its rays through the windows, painting the interior with tones of warmth and coziness.

Inside the house, Y/N was busy watering her plants in her kitchen, an activity she considered as essential as breathing. Her refuge was a veritable green paradise, with foliage that hung gracefully from shelves and vines that snaked up the walls.

The sound of soft knocks on the door in a rhythm already very familiar to her took her out of her reverie, and a smile immediately formed on her lips.

"Come in, Matt!" She called, letting out a nasal laugh at his sudden appearance in her home as she continued to water her plants.

Matt opened the door with a wide smile, his blue eyes shining beautifully in the sunlight.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted, entering and closing the door behind him. "How are you? I couldn't send you a text yesterday. We finished recording during the night."

"Better now that you're here." Y/N responded with a playful smile, turning her watering can over and throwing some water towards him.

"Hey, I came in peace!" Matt feigned horror, quickly dodging away, watching the droplets fall on the floor.

"You always say that." Y/N teased, laughing as she put the watering can back in place. "Come on, I made pie. Your favorite."

Sitting down at the kitchen table, they began to talk while eating, as they always did when they were together. It was that easy with Matt. The words flowed effortlessly, and the silence was never uncomfortable.

"Oh, I brought you something." Matt said, taking out a small package from his backpack and placing it on the free space above the table.

"What is it?" Y/N raised an eyebrow while finishing chewing the sweet in her mouth, curious.

"Surprise." Matt replied in a whisper, his smile widening.

The girl opened the package carefully, revealing a pair of small, colorful flower seedlings. Her eyes instantly lit up, rising to his face as a smile gradually grew on her cheeks.

"Matt, they're beautiful!" She exclaimed, holding one of the seedlings gently. "Thank you."

"I knew you would like it." He pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt not to smile like crazy, watching her tenderly, his eyes traveling from her eyes bright with joy to her wide and excited smile.

With Y/N's help, they prepared pots for the new plants, sharing laughter and lively conversations as they worked together. It was crazy how Matt found an immense interest within himself in plants. It wasn't news that he loved nature with all his being, but Y/N awakened something different in him.

As they worked, their fingers occasionally touched, sending subtle shivers down their spines. It was nothing new for them - there was always electricity in the air when they were together, a gentle tension that they both recognized but chose to ignore.

As the sun began to set, they finally finished planting the flowers, admiring their work with satisfied smiles.

"They're perfect." Y/N murmured, looking at the flowers fondly and clasping her hands together in front of her body in admiration.

"Just like you." Matt said softly, his eyes meeting hers.

A familiar warmth spread through Y/N's chest, and she looked away, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. Matt always had a way of making her feel special, even with the simplest compliments.

"You're so silly, you know that?" She said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.

"But it's true." Matt insisted, his smile never wavering.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It was Friday night, the perfect time to escape the routine and get lost in the city's bright streets. Matt parked his car in front of Y/N's house, feeling excitement pulsing through his veins. With a hint of anticipation, he pressed the horn twice in succession, a sharp sound cutting through the stillness of the air.

A few heartbeats later, the door opened and Y/N appeared, observing the car for a few seconds before bending down slightly, looking at Matt in the driver's seat with a mixed expression of surprise and confusion.

"Matt? What are you doing here?" She asked with a frown, her voice thick with perplexity. "Oh my, we had no plans for tonight, right?"

"No, we didn't. But today's video was too stressful to record, and while I left Nick and Chris at home, I thought it would be a good option to drive around for a bit, I needed to clear my head. But it's no fun alone." Matt shrugged, smiling small and raising his right eyebrow, his expression brimming with expectation.

Y/N arched her own, but the mischievous glint in her eyes indicated that she was interested. She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips.

"Why not? I'll get my jacket."

Matt watched as Y/N ran back inside. He knew there was nothing special about just driving around, but the simple idea of spending more time with her was enough to make him happy.

When Y/N returned, he stretched his upper body across the car's console and the passenger seat, pulling the inside handle and pushing the door open, adjusting his posture again and watching her get in and sit down next to himself.

Matt quickly turned on the car after making sure she was comfortable, leaving the familiar streets of Los Angeles behind.

As they drove through the city, they talked and laughed like they always did, the radio playing Y/N's favorite playlist in the background at a low volume, letting the night guide them wherever they wanted to go.

Matt felt at peace next to her, her closeness filling him with a comforting feeling, his mind finally emptying itself of problems and all stress, and focusing completely on the girl he loved.

Suddenly, Y/N's favorite song started playing, filling the car with an infectious beat. Her eyes lit up, a scream of excitement escaping her lips followed by an excited laugh. Her right hand worked on opening the window on her side, allowing the wind to play with her hair.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off her.

As the girl sang at the top of her lungs, her eyes closed tightly, and a beaming smile opened on her cheeks, Matt felt like he was witnessing pure euphoria personified.

He was in a trance, his mouth slightly open, and his pupils almost completely dilated, his heart pounding in his chest.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Matt tried to keep his attention between her and the road, making sure they were safe while Y/N gave herself over to the music and the night, the strong wind circulating through the inside of the car and moving the boy's fluffy hair.

His heart filled with warmth at seeing her so happy, and he knew without a shadow a doubt that he was right where he belonged.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A cool autumn breeze danced through the tree leaves, bringing with it the comforting scent of dry leaves and spices. In Y/N's room, autumn-scented candles cast a soft, welcoming light, serving as the only source of living light, while the warmth of coziness filled the walls.

Y/N and Matt were cuddled up in the double bed under thick blankets, their bodies pressing gently against each other as they watched a horror movie on the television.

A bowl full of freshly baked and fragrant chocolate cookies rested on the girl's lap above the duvet, consequently warming her legs, both of their hands fishing for the treats from time to time.

The atmosphere was filled with the tranquility of an autumn night, Matt's favorite, but the boy struggled mightily to concentrate on the movie as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

The feeling of Y/N's warm skin rubbing against his made his own goosebumps, the natural smell of her hair filled his nostrils, leaving him in a state of almost drunkenness.

As the movie progressed, a scary scene appeared on the screen, causing Y/N to jump in fright and snuggle even more against Matt's chest.

The boy felt a shiver run down his spine almost automatically, and his heart beat even harder in his chest, so that he could hear it in his ears, the sound of the voices coming from the television becoming muffled to him.

When Y/N looked up with an amused smile on her face, ready to make a joke about the scare, she found Matt's eyes already fixed on her in a different way, a good one. There was something there - a quiet intensity that made her own heart race.

Her smile slowly faded, her throat swallowing hard at Matt's intensity.

Their gazes remained fixed for long minutes, or seconds, and before Y/N could find the courage to say anything, Matt raised a trembling hand, taking it to the apple of her cheek, caressing the flushed and warm skin lightly, his expression full of tenderness and emotion.

"Y/N." He whispered, his voice soft to the ears. "I need to tell you something."

Y/N's heart lurched in her chest, her cheeks burning slightly under Matt's touch, feeling anxiety and anticipation rise through her body like a shiver.

"What is it?" She asked just as quietly, barely able to contain the emotion in her voice, the movie already long forgotten.

Matt swallowed hard, summoning all the courage he had within him.

“I love you, Y/N.” The boy confessed, knowing that if he thought twice, he wouldn't say it. His eyes never leaving hers. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone. I would do anything for you, anything to have you."

Matt's words echoed in the room, filled with sincerity and vulnerability. Y/N felt tears threatening to overflow her eyes, a wave of heat flooding her chest.

She wanted to say something, express the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling, but words escaped her, and she knew that in that moment she had gained what her heart longed for most, having him for herself.

Then, in a moment of pure connection, Y/N leaned up, resting her hand on Matt's chest, and finally captured Matt's lips with hers, initiating a sweet, passionate kiss.

Their lips moved in perfect harmony, conveying all the love and affection they felt for each other. Y/N's free hand traveled to the side of Matt's head, playing with his curly hair lightly, as Matt brought his hands to her hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin between his fingers.

When they pulled away seconds later, Y/N blinked long and hard, her eyes shining with tears of happiness, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

"Matt, you are every flower I have ever admired." Y/N muttered, her voice cracking. "That means I love you too. With all my heart."

And there, on that autumn night, under the glow of the candles and the warmth of the blankets, Matt and Y/N could finally allow themselves to feel and love, without fear of rejection, because they already belonged to each other.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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murdockparker · 1 month

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Our Cottage

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)

A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it

The room was too fragrant.

Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true.

“What in the world?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”

“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”

“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”

She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”

Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”

“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”

“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”

She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.

“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”

“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”

“A year ago, today.”

“Today is… surely not…”

Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.

Dearest,

I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been.

Happy anniversary, my love.

Yours forever,

Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.

“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”

“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”

“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”

“Not your first one though, correct?”

“Well, no—”

“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”

“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.

“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”

“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”

“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.

“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”

Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”

“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”

“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?

“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”

Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.

“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”

“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”

“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.

“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”

“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”

“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”

“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”

“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”

“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”

“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”

“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus.

“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”

“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”

(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”

“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.

As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.

Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day.

Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.

When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”

“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.

“How was your family, sir?”

“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”

“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”

“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”

“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”

“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”

“You as well, sir.”

Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.

“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”

Silence.

“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”

A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door.

Odd.

“(Y/N)…?”

He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing.

“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”

“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”

“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever.

“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—”

“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.

“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”

“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”

“So it is not yet finished—”

“May I see it?”

“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.

“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.

“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”

“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”

She nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand.

Laughter filled the room.

“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”

“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”

On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.

“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”

“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”

“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”

“Benedict—”

“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Truly?”

“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.

“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige.

After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other.

“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”

“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more.

“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”

Another playful slap to his arm.

“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—”

“What about our bedchambers?” He offered.

“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”

“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”

“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”

“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”

“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”

“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”

“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes.

“I may have a few ideas…”

The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.

“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”

“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”

“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”

“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”

“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”

“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”

“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”

“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”

Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement.

Their daughter was born only nine months after.

“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.

“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #hi i love b.b and no one can stop me #if anyone wants some wine with a side of this CHEESE come and see me

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sterredem · 1 month

Text

Big steps

Lando Norris x Royal!Reader

Face claim: girls on Pinterest + Taylor swift (for outfits)

Summary: meeting the royal family a big step for Lando, especially when they are your girlfriends familie… and the media is there too

Word count: 1987

Warning: hate?, not proofread

A/N: this is the fic for the results of the poll! I hope you like it. I chose England as the country because I thought it would be interesting with the whole akte Middleton thing. I do not know a lot about the real royal family but this is how i imagine it.

Also reader will be the oldest daughter of Princess Kate and prince William she will be 22 years old. I know this will not be logical with the time line of them being married and stuff but we will just ignore that.

Y/n knew that her life was different, she was the princess nonetheless. But she didn’t expect this.

She had always loved motor sports and when she got the chance to attend a race in her country she always did.

But still she didn’t see this coming. It all happened so fast. First them meeting, him not knowing who she was so making a fool out of himself. Then Agee that him figuring it out and still liking her for her. Not het status or fame, no just her. Then them continuing to talk for a while. And then a few months after him asking the big questions, her saying yes and the now.

Het introduceren het boyfriend Lando Norris to her family. And of course he had met them already. They where the royal family of England his home land after all. But still, this was different.

Because now he will be introduced as her boyfriend. And that was pretty big thing for him, he will first be meeting her parents and with the recent controversy surrounding princess Kate that will be a bit nerve wracking for him. But after that it will be a bit more relaxing and he will meet her siblings.

But he knew this would come eventually, he was dating the princess so he should meet the royal family eventually. And now that it had been a few months since him asking her it was about time for him to meet them.

So when Lando arrived at the gates of Adelaide Cottage and saw y/n standing there in her full beauty with her gorgeous yellow flower dress he knew he was in for a rollercoaster.

So after taking a deep breath he walked forward to his girlfriend to meet her family.

“Het Lan. You ready?” She asked with her charming smile and her kind voice.

“Yeah. Just a bit nervous.” He said with a small laugh trying to not make it awkward.

“Hey it’s going to be alright. They are going to love you and you are going to see that the royal family is not just a bunch of rich people that rule the country.” She said teasing him a bit with his Nieves but still keeping it light.

“Okay. I’m ready love.” He said now being a bit more relaxed with what the princess said.

“Okay. Come on I will show you around first and then you can meet my parents.” She said while grabbing his hand and gently tugging him towards the garden. “We should go around the garden first and then I will show you the inside, but there might be a chance we will run into my family so that’s why I will first show you the outside.”

“Okay that’s good” Lando said while walking after her. “Hey y/n…?” Lando asked now nervous again with what he wanted to ask.

“Yeah? What is going on love?” She asked wanting to know what her boyfriend was nervous about.

“Umm… have you’re family said anything about me?” He asked now a bit embarrassed about asking. But he wanted to know because they were her family after all. So if they already thought something about him then he wanted to know so that he knew how to make a good first impression.

“Well they asked about you yeah. And they asked the basic things and did a background check. But they think you are all good. They only know the basic facts and a few of the things I have told you.” She said smiling a bit while talking. Thinking it was cute with how he was so worried with how they will think about her.

But the princess knew that they would like the driver. They did to the search because you wouldn’t want the princess to date a serial killer. But they did it and he was all good. And with a few things she told them about. They seem to be excited about meeting him. But it is maybe not the best time with princess Kate recently being diagnosed with cancer and with the loads of controversy around the family. But now that it was all revealed it was about time for them to meet her boyfriend of 9 months.

She also knew that it was almost a year in there relationship and that he I shuts know meeting her family. But with them both being busy they just hadn’t hat the time.

“Okay that’s good.” The driver said now being relaxed again. But still having doubts in his mind.

After that they walked around the garden and talked a bit more.

When they were done outside they got to the entrance and she showed him the inside.

When she showed his most of the house, he only had a few more rooms to see. But she knew that her family would be in those rooms. So she stood still for a second to talk to him.

“Okay Lando. On that room will be my parents. Are you ready?” She asked a bit nervous for him. She knew that they would like- no even love him.

“I think I am. Just mentally prepared myself” he laughed a bit while saying the last bit. He was less nervous than when he arrived but it still isn’t fully gone.

“Hey it’s going to be fine. My parents are probably the most nerve wracking but when we meet my siblings it will be a lot better.

Lando thought about it and prepared a bit more. He took a few deep breaths and then looked up at his princess again. “Okay I’m ready”

“Okay, come on in.” She said with a smile squeezing his hand softly and leading him in to the room. She opens the door slowly after looking at him one last time.

“Hey, we are here” y/n said tugging Lando in the room with her and then closing the door. Her parents sat at the table at the room and when they saw them they stood up and walked to them.

“Hello Lando, it’s good to finally meet you.” Prince William said to Lando while shaking his head.

“Hello Lando it’s nice to finally meet you. We have heard a lot about you.” Princess Kate said with a smile on her face while shaking her head after her husband was done.

“Hello it is an honour to meet you.” he said with a shy smile after shaking the royal pair’s hands.

The youngest princess in the room smiled at her boyfriend and her parents. She was happy that they finally met.

After a bit of ice breaking with small talk they were all a lot more comfortable with each other.

After what seemed really short but was actually an hour Lando and y/n decided that they should meet her siblings. So they said goodbye to her parents and made a promise to meet again and then walked a bit further into the house to the next room with her siblings.

Lando was a lot less nervous to meet them. He met her parents and that was good so meeting Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis would also be alright.

Once they came to the room his girlfriend turned to him. “Okay this will be more relaxing. They know you and will probably first be a bit protective but then they will be more teasing. So nothing to worry about.” She said while smiling.

“Okay. I’m ready love” Lando said feeling relaxed with his girlfriend.

She opened the door and they walked in. Her siblings turned to her and immediately stood up. They walked towards the pair and inspected Lando immediately.

“So you are Lando? Y/n’a boyfriend?” Princess Charlotte asked.

George begin talking immediately after. “Wait are you the racing driver?” He asked getting a bit excited with that he and his sister both like Formula 1.

Lando didn’t even get to speak because Prine Louis began talking “so you are the man she can’t stop talking about” he said with a teasing smile.

Y/n was already beginning to get tired with them so interrupted them before they were going to overwhelm Lando with questions. “Okay guys stop with all that. Yes this is my boyfriend, Lando. Lando this is George, Charlotte and Louis. Guys this is Lando. And yes George he is the racing driver. And Louis don’t say that.”

“Hello everyone” Lando said already going in to his being with kids mode a bit.

After the first bit of the awkward conversation it all became better and y/n was right. They were now a lot more teasing instead of protective. But it was still fun.

And they asked a lot of questions. Like ‘what was it like with Lewis Hamilton?’ ‘Have you really not won a race?’ ‘What is it like being a F1 driver?’ And Lando was able to answer every one of them. And he enjoyed it a lot. He enjoyed hanging out with his girlfriend and her siblings. And enjoyed there questions and there small arguments and teasing bond.

After what again felt quite short but what was actually 2 hours they decided that it was a long enough day and said goodbye to her siblings. They again promised to meet again and now walked outside to the car.

“So what did you think?” y/n asked with a small smile thinking back with how good he was with her family.

“It was great. They are all very kind and it was better than expected.” Lando said while looking at his girlfriend. While talking they walked to the car (with of course a private driver).

Once they came to the car he opens the door for her and they stepped in. “That’s great!”

While talking they didn’t notice people taking pictures. And that was a bit of a problem, because while they are dating for quite a while. They have not yet announced it. They will eventually but they wanted to wait a bit and see where it was going. Even a lot of the drivers didn’t know that they were dating. The only people on the grid that knew was the McLaren team, his teammate and Carlos. All because McLaren needed to know so they could keep it private, Oscar knew because she was in the garage a few times (in secret) and so he had questions and then Lando explained. And Carlos knew because Lando and him are great friends so he just told him.

So if it came out that it was them then that would be problematic.

But because they didn’t know they didn’t really care. So they drove to her house and they spent the rest of the day together.

|—————————————————————————|

After the tweets Lando and y/n (together with their PR teams) decided that it was time for them to go public. So they took pictures, made a caption and posted it

|—————————————————————————|

Instagram

Lando Norris and the royal family

Liked by: GeorgeRussel, maxverstappen and 20.000.000 others

We are proud to announce that Princess Y/n and Mr.Norris are happily in a relationship and they are happy to finally show it to the world.

Comments are limited

Maxverstappen: Why do I only hear about this now?

GeorgeRussel: Lando Some explaining please?

CarlosSainz: I am happy to say that in knew all along!

Oscarpiastri: finally announcing it? Happy for you both! (I also already knew!)

McLaren: Happy for the (kind of) new couple! (Admin also already know!)

After finally announcing that they were dating Lando got a lot of messages from confused drivers. And the couple had a fun time laughing about it.

Lando explained it to them and when Y/n made her first paddock appearance at his home race as his girlfriend. Let’s just say it was a wild day.

But they knew they could live trough it. And with Lando now having met her family and her eventually having met his and the drivers they where very happy and knew that they where many to be.

|—————————————————————————|

Bonus:

A/N: This is a longer fix than the last. But I deeply like it! I hope you also like it! I really tried to make it as long as possible but still make it fun. I also personally really like the twitter ‘beef’ between user6 and user7. Let me know what you think! And please Like comment or reblog! I would love feedback

I am not really happy with how it turned out but I hope you enjoy it! Please tell me if I made an error or something!

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cherryjuiceblues · 3 months

Text

𝐘/𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒

➯ A VANILLA LIME EXTRA. ✰ demon!harry valentine’s day fluff. sexual content. mild degradation. mocking and teasing. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 3.4k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Y/N blinks in a way that she can only assume demonstrates befuddlement. She turns around half-expecting Harry to shove something less than pleasant in her direction. Flick her nose or smack her arse. But he stands rather sheepishly before her, hand hidden behind his back and a hint of a redness spattered around his cheeks despite the harsh line of his mouth.

She frowns, “What’s this? What did you say?”

“It’s February 14th,” he states, surveying Y/N as if to make sure she reacts in a way that doesn’t catch him off guard. When she raises his eyebrows, silently expectant that he explain himself, Harry presents the object behind his back. He’d procured it only minutes before.

“It’s—”

“—a bouquet.”

Y/N bites her lip to curb a teasing smile—although she feels the pleasant warmth filling her chest unreservedly—stopping herself from saying I can see that. “Starting to like these human holidays, huh?” reaching for the flowers without hesitation, quick to melt in front of him contrary to the front she likes to display.

He plays dumb. “Holiday? Is a holiday obligatory to be able to give your girlfriend flowers?” He slings a cocky arm around her shoulder, now that his offering has been met with obvious tenderness, and presses a kiss into the side of her head. “Something about this Valentine’s made me want to celebrate it… can’t think what.”

A giddy giggle bubbles from Y/N’s throat, “Okay, softie,” she smiles, only slightly startled by the realisation that— “I didn’t get you anything,” looking up at him with apologetic eyes widened in adoration.

“Oh, well I’ll have these back then.” Harry’s paws hardly have to uncurl to make space for the stems, blindly reaching from over the curve of her shoulder.

“Ah! No!” Y/N shrieks, pulling them away from his thieving fingers. Her body is no match for the strength of his but she tries her hardest. “They’re mine now, you can’t have them back.”

“I could kill them,” his eyes darken around the edges as he threatens to curl the edges of the petals and turn them a sorry wilted colour.

“You wouldn’t dare.” And she’s right. No, he wouldn’t.

Their morning is no different to any other—aside from the blooming petals decorating Y/N’s kitchen table, and she’s certain Harry keeps leaving new flowers inside the vase. She’s half worried she’ll blink for a moment and her entire bedroom will be filled with an assortment of foliage; she’d be able to open a garden centre from the comfort of her own home.

Harry has seemed a little softer lately but Y/N would never say anything—worried he might amp up the bullying in an embarrassed retaliation. It’s not as if she doesn’t love the way he plays with her, but it is undeniable that seeing her demon becoming sappy and fuzzy around the edges makes her heart all mushy just the same.

It makes her think back to a different time—when she pretended to hate the way he made her feel, and Harry relished in the grumpy outbursts he elicited. It’s why when he asks her, “Is there anything you want to do today?” that Y/N thinks—yes, yes there is.

“Can we— I was wondering…” It’s not scary to ask but…

A smile tugs at the corner of the demon’s lips, “Mhm…”

Only through fear of embarrassment does she stutter, “Would you like to… I don’t know— I was just kind of thinking it might be nice to go and see the cottage.”

Harry tilts his head for a moment, like a patiently awaiting dog that’s heard their owner ask them if they want a treat. And once it registers, he doesn’t react the way Y/N expects. He frowns, trips over his own words like he’s sure he’s misheard her. “Are you— Really?”

“What? Is that bad?”

“It’s just— well, no. I’d have thought that place would haunt your nightmares or something.”

Oh. That’s… that’s unexpectedly thoughtful and overwhelmingly distressing all at once. “You really think that?” Did he? Was it a regular worry of his? Does he look back upon a moment in time that Y/N cherishes but see it through glasses tinted with the overcast of a grey sky.

“I don’t know… maybe.”

Y/N’s eyebrows dip slightly—sadly, “Oh, Harry—”

He cuts her off before those pitiful eyes pierce through the skin over his chest, “—Okay, Bambi.”

But she’s determined now—to make new memories and relive old ones. “I love that little cottage. Can we go back? Only if you want to.”

“Of course, I want to. I want what you want.”

The saccharine timbre of his voice soaks into the flesh of her cheeks—warm and buzzing—and it’s hard not to bite her lip as she starts to get excited. “So we can go?”

Harry smooths a palm over the top of her head, mussing the hair there just so he can watch her fix it, mumbling out a soft, “Yeah, we can go, sweetheart.”

It’s like nothing has changed.

Y/N and Harry appear at the doorstep and it’s as if the cottage has been sealed inside a bubble—unaffected by the hands of time. She supposes it is entirely possible that time does move differently here; it is glistening with magic after all.

She can see the ghost of herself storming off, tripping over a rogue root and being cushioned by the wrap of Harry’s body. She can see the side of the cottage peeking out, its pathway yearning for footfalls, the lake rippling underneath the canopy of the magical willow tree and the memory of their first kiss emanates a glow. A sense of calm washes over her—her home away from home—a part of herself connected to this place in the same way she is to Harry.

As soon as her counterpart opens the door, Y/N is barging her way inside, desperate to see that everything on the interior is just the same as the exterior. It’s like falling headfirst into a memory, and once she’s given a head start, her feet carry her away in a rushed and giddy sprint. Harry doesn’t use any magic, he follows her slowly, lets her run whilst he calmly walks, and still makes it to the bedroom only a few seconds after she’s arrived.

He watches with an amused smile as Y/N jumps onto the bed, Harry’s bed—the one he’d slept in when they’d stayed here all that time ago. Watches as she inhales less than subtly and nuzzles her face into the sheets when she happily finds that they still smell of him. He watches but not for long because his automatic reaction is to gravitate towards her, climb up onto the end of the bed and flatten his body out on top of hers.

She lets out a girlish grunt from the weight, squawking in a pitchy cacophony, “Urgh! Heavy.”

A mere grumble is all she is returned with—full of fake disdain as he lets his limbs relax—“Don’t hurt my feelings.”

“No, no, ‘m not. Heavy and strong. Big and strong.”

They can feel each other’s ribs expanding with each breath; Y/N’s lagging some with the weight but not enough to warrant disrupting the sudden peace.

“Good.”

A silence falls upon them, only occasionally interrupted by inane thoughts spoken aloud. Y/N thinks she can somehow push herself further into the mattress when she sighs out, “Love this bed.”

And Harry, sleepy but not quite as much as her—demonstrated so brazenly as he quirks a smile into Y/N’s hair. “Yeah? Love the way I fucked you in it.”

There’s something so dry and cut-throat about the way drowsiness makes her sound, “You didn’t even stick it in.”

Admonished, Harry snorts, “Stick it in? Where is your decorum, Bambi? We should change that, hm?”

“Later,” she sighs, indeed melting further into the bed with a dreamy noise.

Harry kisses her cheek, shifting his weight off of her so that he can tug her body into his side instead. “Y’tired?”

“A little. I wanted to do something though.”

“What’s that?”

“S’ a surprise,” words slurring—tangling together in the haze of her dwindling consciousness.

They sleep for a while—thirty minutes, an hour, maybe—Y/N loses track of the time in this place but it’s never been less of a problem. Everything is the way it is meant to be when they’re here. And when the pair uncurl from around one another Y/N mewls in delight as the memory of their destination washes over her once more. It fuels her with bubbling energy, body twitching to burn it off but Harry doesn’t release her waist the way she hopes for—his sleepy brain unguarded in its blatant likeness to someone’s old, grumpy cat that hisses in distaste if ever awoken.

Y/N tries to slip out from beneath his ironclad grasp but she’s met with a grumble, low like the distant hum of an engine. “Let me out.” It’s a meek request—not the most persuasive she’s ever sounded in her life—almost as if… perhaps… she doesn’t really want to leave the warmth of Harry’s body and the smell of his soft clothes.

“Stop talking.”

“Come to the kitchen with me.” Her voice whispers like they’re not the only two people to be existing for miles upon miles.

And that’s how she lures him into baking an attempt at coquettishly shaped cookies—hearts (that Harry is less than impressed with, “Not even your heart is shaped like that, Bambi.”) and bows, flowers and bunnies—with a palette of pinks to smother their tops in. Y/N is so delighted in her mischief, watching Harry like a hawk to gauge his miffed reactions, although deep down, both of them are aware of a level of playful annoyance. Their penchant for getting on each other’s nerves only fuels the gears of their affections for one another.

“I could just… y’know, give you some cookies—we don’t need to go through the whole process.”

Y/N thinks he’s just grumpy for the sake of it—grumpy and old. Like a cat. “That defeats the whole point, Harry. It’s fun! Aren’t you having fun with me?” She widens her eyes, purposefully big to tug on those demonic heartstrings of his.

He only frowns, nose crinkling ever so slightly to indicate he sees right through her. But whether he does or not never makes much of a difference. “Yeah, no. Of course. Of course, I’m having fun,” he raps his knuckles on the table impatiently, “I love…” drumming out an annoying rhythm, “...spending my finite time on this planet waiting for tiny, wee biscuits to bake that’ll take me five seconds to inhale.”

He thinks it’s funny because he’s immortal. Y/N doesn’t laugh. “You’re such an old fart, oh my god.”

Harry hums, unperturbed by the slight mockery she makes of him as he slinks his arms around her middle and mumbles into her neck, “A certain little human lady is teaching me bad habits.”

“What does Mr. Impatient want to do whilst we wait?”

“I can think of something…” fingers teasing at the bottom of her soft cotton t-shirt, slender digits dancing along the line of skin he discovers.

“Of course you can,” she rolls her eyes to herself, trying to dampen the smile that dictates the shape of her mouth. “That’s for later, Harry.”

“Huh?” She’s inclined to believe that he’s drunk on her already—from a brush against her midriff. His warm body presses against her back and Y/N is nearly convinced to lean into his embrace and encourage his hands to explore across her front.

“You can’t seduce me.”

“Think that’s what I’m doing right now.”

“I won’t let these cookies burn because of you.”

“We don’t have to go anywhere—you can keep an eye on them the whole time… I don’t need to take your clothes off to make you cum.”

He nearly gets her. So very nearly. Made obvious by the lag in her reply and the catch of her breath that only someone like Harry could possibly hear. But Y/N wins for now, painfully stubborn as she pushes her head back to lean on his shoulder whilst simultaneously denying him. “No, you can wait.”

Harry makes sure she pays for her questionable prioritisation.

“You made me wait. Now it’s your turn, isn’t it?” His lips curve upwards into a satisfied grin as he undresses her—after a gently firm shove to push her to the bed—cruel to do as such whilst he promises not to touch her. “Oh? What’s this? Got all dressed up for me, did you?”

“No,” she grumbles. “S’for my other boyfriend.” The white lace shudders against her ribs as Y/N exhales shortly; the air punched from her lungs as Harry traces the pads of his fingertips along each bump. She resists squirming.

“Mm, that is such a shame. He won’t get to see it,” Harry juts his bottom lip out in a condescending pout. “But seeing as I’m here to admire… let’s make a few changes, shall we?” Y/N has no time to agree or disagree—to even ponder upon the question for a moment before the colour of her skimpy lingerie transforms before her eyes.

Angelic white swirls into midnight black, blossoming from the centre of her chest and swirling outwards to swallow all traces of innocence. Y/N lets out an astonished gasp—never quite expectant of Harry’s free use of magic. It seems her innately human vessel will never grasp the ease in which he procures objects, feelings—moods and senses alike.

“I liked the white,” she huffs, unable to appropriately convey her frustrations when she knows, really, that nothing Harry does is irreversible. Everything is impermanent when you can wield magic. Well… nearly everything.

“Something darker… is a little more fitting, don’t you think?”

Y/N didn’t assume that this Valentine’s would necessarily end in a passionate romp between her and Harry—she knows that the holiday is sort of an excuse for partners to have sex but… they’ve never needed one before. However, had it been playing on her mind, she’s not sure she would’ve had edging on the cards for this romantic date.

No one is to blame but Y/N for being so careless in her thought process—because it’s Harry. And Harry is cruel—cruel yet sentimental in the strangest of ways.

“You remember what happened in this bed, don’t you, Bambi?”

Yes. Yes, she remembers all too well. How could a person ever possibly forget such a night? He tortured her. It was blissful delirium.

She’d tried to beg, she really had, hoping that maybe a surrender may win him over but—no matter how much his sharp edges have become smooth curves—he is still a demon, and the prospect of squeezing tears from the corners of her eyes was too much to surpass.

That was nearly an hour ago, and Y/N is at her breaking point.

“Listen. Listen to me. Hands—” he shoves them roughly above her head, “—up.” Y/N doesn’t want to listen to him. Harry has been all lewd strokes and overexaggerated groans for at least fifteen minutes… his fingers coated in the remnants of her arousal—and her resolve is weak. She wants to touch him; caress the ruddy head that beads with precum, that slicks down his shaft and makes him shine. Her mouth waters for it and her arms struggle to stretch out. “Yeah—yeah, keep trying, keep trying baby. You’re so fucking crazy for it. Such a desperate little thing, hm?”

Frustration bubbles in her throat, sliced in half by a whimper—pathetic and needy. “Not again, don’t do this again, Harry.” Her cunt pulsates, the gusset of her newly dyed panties soaked through. He hasn’t even ghosted a breath over her warmth. She throbs with the memory of the first time he’d done this—made her cum with a few thuds and glides against her clit. He would be evil to do that again.

Harry twists his wrist on every stroke, humming out a feigned agreement, “Okay, alright. What should I do instead?” Y/N knows it matters little what she says, but she doesn’t even part her lips before he continues squeezing himself to the sound of his own voice.

“You want me to touch that pretty pussy, do you?” Y/N nods anyway—despite everything. Harry pouts, “Oh, why’s that? S’all achy?”

“Please, Harry,” her words topple out in a sigh. She doesn’t want to whine, she wants to hold out and appear completely unaffected by everything that he does but— “Please?”

“My girl’s all helpless f’me. Helpless and wet, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” she’s reduced to a whisper as Harry leans down, crowding her space with his broad body. The promise of his silky skin hangs above her, imprisoned in the palm of his hand. Her eyes trail down his front unashamedly, silently wanting.

He smothers her lips with his own and they taste like sugar. Sugary sweet from the cookies he’d moaned lavishly over; only half a performance, the other half satisfied to have waited for them to bake after all.

But now, Harry doesn’t think of confectionery—not in any sort of edible form anyway. Or in the traditional sense, at least. Right now, Harry licks all the flavour from Y/N’s mouth. He’s messy and he’s unhurried, sliding a palm up to curl around her patiently awaiting hands—locked up in her own embrace above her head. Their digits entwine with one another and all lingering thoughts, had there been any to begin with, just drift away.

Y/N barely registers the rip between her thighs as Harry tears at the seams of her underwear without even a hitch of his motions. Her gasp is delayed—only permitted when the demon pulls back an inch to allow her a short inhale—and then all she can do is whine into his mouth as the familiar teasing pressure buds at her entrance.

It’s unlike Harry not to draw out every drag and watch the sensitivity wash over Y/N’s face. It’s unlike him but Y/N can’t say she dislikes the snap of his hips against hers and the force in which his body nudges her up the bed. Sounds are forced from her lungs like angry fists to a punching bag, eyes wide open and tied to the magnetism of Harry’s own—a mirror image of two mouths dropped open in dumb pleasure.

“Cum around me,” he pants through short shuffles to frame his forearms on either side of her head as he cups the top of her scalp in an overwhelming desire to carry the weight of her. “Cum around me, baby. Let me feel you.”

And it’s hardly a chore. Not when her insides were already tightening, teetering on the edge as if waiting for those words of permission, his blessing, his yearning. Eyes roll back and knees jerk, souls reach out to wisp and curl around one another if just for a second, as Y/N pulls Harry along with her and over the edge.

They’re a harmony of ecstasy, a single soul comprised of two vessels—as their blood rushes through their veins and thrums underneath the surface of their warm skin. Harry settles on top of her, nestled snugly inside like there could never possibly be another option. They won’t be finished for the evening; that goes without saying.

He fusses over individual strands of her hair, smoothing them down and silently ridiculing the sweat that misplaced them. Y/N breaths quietly beneath him, eyelids fluttering closed in an unmistakable image of a happy fatigue. She speaks in sleepy murmurs, lips heavy to move but she tries her best. “You know you don’t have to celebrate human holidays just for me, right?”

Harry’s hum vibrates through her chest, “I know… but I heard a rumour that they’re not so bad,” he dips down to her ear, making her squeal and tilt her head to try and hide in her neck, “if it means seeing you so happy.”

”You’re such a romantic,” it’s meant to be teasing but as she forces her eyes open, they practically cast out holographic hearts. Y/N won’t admit it but, she’s always wished to redefine Valentine’s day—to spend it with someone who actually matters, who won’t make her resent each year that it comes around, to celebrate each other with tried and true simplicity.

She thinks they’d meet in another life—without all the magic—her and Harry. It’s a feeling so strong when she looks into his eyes, a feeling that makes it feel possible to will things into existence just by dreaming about them hard enough.

And Harry always seems to understand, as if he might be doing the same, as he dips down to whisper into her parted lips, “I spent a long time yearning for a companion like you, my little love. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#harry styles #vanilla lime #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #writing #demonrry #demon!harry

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ellecdc · 3 months

Text

Come Back, Be Here (part 2)

pt1 // pt2 // pt3 // pt4 // pt5 // pt6 // pt7 // pt8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them? (concept inspired by Recognition by aeaean__bliss on ao3)

Sirius entered the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow the next morning with (far too many, in Lily’s opinion) bags of your things.

My girl is not going without, Red. He’d simply said. Who was she to argue?

After a restless sleep, most of Sirius’ night was spent doggedly watching your sleeping form. He couldn’t complain; he’d certainly had worst nights and he’d happily spend the rest of his nights this way if that meant keeping you around. Once Harry was up for the day according to his parents, Sirius decided to leave you in Lily’s capable hands while he retrieved some things from his flat, and picked up some personals for you from Tesco. He had left a glass of water, more pain potion and your wand which had been in the cloak you were found in on the bedside table with a note saying he'd be back soon.

He brought the bags into your bedroom – or, the spare room, he supposed – and tried to suppress the panic he felt when you weren’t in the bed where he’d last seen you this morning.

He failed though, and he did indeed panic. Apparently, the trauma of unexpectedly losing a loved one (and then getting them back much the same way) takes longer to shake than 18 hours.

Sirius noticed a shuffling sound in the bathroom, and his rational mind told him that you were simply using the washroom and he should just wait outside, or, hell, knock like a gentleman.

The other half of his brain – the one currently driving his central nervous system - was telling him to break doors down.

He decided to choose a happy medium and pulled his wand, leaning to listen against the door. When he failed to hear any more movement, he opened it slowly. He held his breath and begged his heart to stop hammering in his chest as he surveyed the room. He moved into the seemingly empty bathroom, until he turned back towards the door and saw you hiding between the open door and the wall.

“Whoa there love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook ya.” Sirius chuckled under his breath, holding his hands up in surrender. He tried to smile while his heart broke at the sight of the cowering girl before him.

Your hand trembled as you lowered your own wand and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“No, I’m sorry, gorgeous. I should have knocked.” He countered. “You got my note?”

You seemed to shake yourself and square your shoulders.

“Yes, you had errands?” You queried as you both exited the bathroom.

“That I did!” He answered jovially. “I took care of some business and sent a note to my supervisor saying I’d be taking a leave of absence for the next while. I also went shopping.”

Sirius pulled out the bags he had set behind the couch with a flourish.

“We’ve got you lots of your own clothes now, so you won’t need to borrow from our dear Lily flower.” He said, motioning towards the tracksuit spilling over your body.

You peered into the bags, and Sirius watched excitedly as you pulled the bag he had brought from his and Remus’ flat to your lap. Please remember he begged you silently.

You gently pulled out a zippered knit jumper. Your zippered knit jumper. “This is mine.”

Sirius failed to suppress a smirk. “It’s all yours, love.”

“No.” You argued. “This is mine, it was mine. Before.” You stated clearly, holding it up in front of you. Your brows were furrowed, and Sirius tried to ignore how cute you looked.

“Ah, so it is.” He offered noncommittally

Your eyes flit between him and the sweater for a few moments, and Sirius let you ponder. Please remember.

“I loved this sweater. It was my favourite.”

Sirius hummed as if in thought. “Do you remember where you got it?”

Your left eye twitched as you scrutinized the article of clothing.

“I think,” you started, grunting as if it was hard to get out. “I think it was a gift.”

Yes, Sirius thought, you can do it baby.

“Who gave it to you?”

You actually whimpered as you dropped the jumper into your lap and clenched your forehead.

“I can’t...” You started. “It’s like I know that I know the answer, but I just can’t get it.” You muttered miserably.

“Hey, hey. That’s alright.” Sirius said, removing the sweater from your lap and replacing it with his hands. He drew circles on the backs of your hands and willed you to look at him.

He continued talking when you finally met his eyes. “You don’t have to remember right now. You’re alright.”

Your eyes jumped from each of Sirius’ grey ones as if searching for the answers you were missing. He’d gladly give you all of them if he could.

Slowly, so, so slowly, you lowered your forehead to his.

This is how Lily found you both; Sirius on his knees in front of you with your hands intertwined in your lap and your foreheads pressed together. She hated to interrupt.

“Knock, knock.” She called to the room quietly. The two of you whipped your heads to face her, both blushing as if you had been caught doing something naughty.

“Hate to interrupt Pads, but I was wondering if you could help me with something for a sec?”

Sirius turned back to you and offered you a soft smile before joining Lily in the hallway.

“Well, that looked cozy.” She teased gently which was met with a very dramatic eyeroll.

“Yeah, yeah, Red. What is it you needed.”

“I spoke with Dumbledore. I haven’t told him why yet, but I asked for a Healer – one specialized in neuropsychological practice.” She trailed off as Sirius’ eyes widened in horror.

“There’s a healer coming here. To your safe house.” He managed, feeling like he might faint.

“Well, no,” Lily muttered, “you’d have to go meet her at St. Mungo’s and then apparate her here.”

Sirius stared at what he officially considered to be his dumbest friend.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He whispered as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the kitchen. “What point of in hiding or safe house don’t you understand?”

Lily ripped her arm from his grip. “Listen, Dumbledore trusts the healer, they won’t be given the address, you’ll just be escorting them. And, I want to be here for her.”

Sirius had begun tallying up counter points but deflated at the end of her sentence. Lily didn’t miss it.

“I want to be here for her.” She repeated.

Sirius sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked to the heavens for answers. The heavens had never answered him before so he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed when they left him on his own again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Red.”

They were joined in the kitchen by James and a miniature version of James who appeared to have just woken up as he rubbed his eyes with two pudgy hands from his father’s hip.

“There’s the prongslet!” Sirius beamed at his godson.

“Pa-foo!” The child squealed and held his arms out for him, tiredness completely forgotten.

Sirius happily took the almost-toddler and sat him on his lap.

“Alright Pads?” James queried.

“Not bad Prongs, yourself?” He responded coolly.

James grimaced at his friend’s displeasure with him but carried on making small talk while preparing breakfast for the infant.

The awkwardness was interrupted by a light knock, but it wasn’t from the front door. Lily and Sirius exchanged a look while James took Harry from Sirius’ lap.

“Y/N?” Lily called tentatively, which was answered by the bedroom door slowly opening and exposing you.

You had changed out of Lily’s tracksuit and were wearing the zippered knit jumper and a pair of green corduroy trousers that Sirius knew he bought a size or two too large but figured they could spell them smaller, and it’d be easier to let them out as you regained some weight. It appeared you had already spelled them in, and Sirius tried really hard not to stare at how good it made your arse look.

“Awe! I remember that sweater! That’s the one you bought her for her birthday; isn’t it Pads?” Lily exclaimed, causing you to pause and Sirius to blush furiously.

You watched as James smirked and Sirius looked towards you shyly.

“Did I thank you for it?” You asked as you cleared your throat and sat at the far end of the table.

Sirius coughed before he answered. “Er, yeah. Yes, you loved it.” He admitted.

“Good. It was my favourite.” You reiterated and looked to the little babbling baby in James’ lap.

“Who’s the little one? Must be yours.” You mentioned, motioning to James. The baby was the spitting image of what you could only imagine was his father, except perhaps the eyes. He had...

“Yes, he has his mother’s eyes though.” James admitted, smiling adoringly at Lily who shared his grin and brushed a finger across the baby’s cheek.

“Y/N, this is our son, Harry. Harry James Potter.” Lily stated.

The three friends smiled at the baby at one end of the table before turning to meet your ghostly pale face of at the other end of the table, who seemed to be looking at Harry in horror.

“He’s...” you started before swallowing, “he’s Harry Potter?”

Lily and James shared a look before Lily answered with a simple “yes.”

You looked frantically at the three adults surrounding the child.

“Is this house safe?” You demanded; Sirius was almost excited at how much like your old self you sounded but was startled by how familiar this panic of yours was. The last year you had together was spent in almost a near state of it. “Who knows we’re here?”

“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius started, standing up slowly but stopping all movements when you stood as well, wooden chair grating loudly against the floor beneath you.

“Who knows the child is here? Who can get in?”

“Y/N, please, I need you to calm down and tell us what’s wrong.” Lily pleaded, approaching you with her hands up from the opposite side of Sirius who began doing the same.

“‘You-know-who’ is looking for him. The prophecy.” You stated, eyes watering as you stared at Harry in James’ arms, who had since stood from the table and had his wand pointed at you.

“James, put your wand down.” Sirius spat as his friend as he reached you and gently touched your arm.

“Who knows he’s here? Is this house safe?” You demanded again, your voice starting to sound shrill and your breathing becoming erratic.

“It’s safe love, we’re safe. It’s okay. The house is protected by the Fidelius charm. Please breathe for me.” Sirius said as he gently embraced you and pulled your head to his chest, shielding you from the aim of James’ wand with his body.

His words seemed to work, as you let out a breath and leaned into his touch. “You’re sure?” You muttered into his chest.

“I promise it’s safe, love. I’d not let you or Harry stay somewhere that wasn’t.” He said, pointedly shooting a look at James who had finally lowered his wand.

He relished the feel of you in his arms for as long as you would allow it. Apparently, you needed it just as much, because it was a few moments before you were finally willing to pull away from his chest.

“Vix, why don’t we go play some cards?” Lily asked, holding up a deck.

You smiled and nodded, and the two of you retreated to the bedroom, Harry on his mother’s hip. The men waited until they heard the door click behind you.

“Look, mate-”

“You pointed your fucking wand at her whilst she fretted over the wellbeing of your son!" Sirius seethed at his friend.

"Sirius-”

“She is broken James. She is not dangerous, she’s scared.”

“Sirius please, I-”

“She’s fucking terrified; Lily and I can hardly touch her, she’s afraid of her own shadow. I didn’t immediately announce myself this morning and I found her hiding in the bathroom with her wand at the ready. She escaped, bloody hell knows how, but she escaped and she’s terrified. And you pointed your wand at her!”

“I’m sorry!” James finally shouted. “Sirius I’m sorry. I’m scared too. I’m scared. And honestly, I think it’s because I’m afraid I deserve it. I feel guilty, Sirius. So. Bloody. Guilty. I couldn’t sleep for months without seeing the look on her face the moment we realized she wasn’t going to make it home with me. And I didn’t sleep at all last night because I hate myself for leaving her there and I think if she could remember me, she’d probably hate me too. And she should. She should hate me. And if she did, she’d probably want me and my family dead. Okay? I’m fucking terrified and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” James’ finished, his chest heaving as if he ran a marathon.

Sirius huffed at his friend and felt his face heat up. He angrily wiped at it and his hand came back wet – he was crying. “Fuck” He breathed and leaned over the table.

“I’m sorry.” James whispered again.

You and Lily played a few rounds of goldfish, rummy and big bertha. Lily asked you where you had learned to play these games, but all you could remember was that your friends at school taught you; though you couldn’t remember who the friends were. As the two of you played, your left eye kept twitching.

Lily was reshuffling the deck when there was a knock at the door.

“Hey girls, the healer is here.” James said through the door before gently opening it.

A kind witch who introduced herself as Healer Grundke entered the room with Sirius and James, who picked up a babbling Harry to sit out of the way.

“So,” The Healer started, having you sit at the end of the high bed with your feet hanging off of it, “We’ll start with some easy questions.”

You told the healer your full legal name, your date of birth and hometown, and your parents’ names without any issues.

“Very good,” she continued. “I’m going to continue asking questions about yourself, your life, your family and your friends. But I’m going to cast a diagnostic spell of your mind which should show us a scan of the locations of your brain that your answers are coming from, and if there happens to be anything interfering with you recalling that information. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded and the healer waved her wand above your head. Sirius watched as a scan of your brain materialized above you. Sirius thought it was beautiful, even though he had no idea what any of it meant. Lily appeared to be scrutinising it with much more authority whilst James and Harry enjoyed the look of the pretty lights.

“What does your father do?”

“He...he was an ambassador. He worked in government.”

“Was. Has he passed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to hear. How did he pass?”

“Heart attack.”

With every question and answer, lights flashed across your scan, signifying information entering and exiting different areas of your brain.

“And your mother?”

“Also dead.”

“How did she pass?”

“Car accident.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“Fifteen.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Half siblings, from my mother’s first marriage. They both chose to stay with their father in Canada when she relocated.”

“Where did you attend school?”

“Hogwarts.”

“Which house were you in?”

More flashes appeared on the scan.

You chuckled before giving her your answer.

The healer averted her eyes from the scan to your face. “What makes you laugh about that?”

“I was a hat stall.”

“Were you really?” The question comes from James, which earned him a nudge from Lily.

“Yes. It was humiliating.” You said with a smirk.

“What caused the stall?” Sirius asked, though he already knew.

You looked up and to the left as you recalled your sorting ceremony experience.

“The hat probably would have thrown me into Slytherin immediately had I not been muggle-born. Small mercies that, I suppose. I wasn’t quite outgoing or extroverted enough to be placed in the house of the brave, though I had a strong sense of justice. Loyalty was one of my biggest attributes, but I wasn’t always very kind or thoughtful with my words. I wasn’t extremely bookish or the academic type, but I was witty. Apparently, I was a real mystery.”

The healer smirked at that.

“That you are, dear.”

You smiled kindly at the healer.

“Okay, where were we? Ah yes, what was your favourite class in school?”

“Hmm...”

Sirius smirked. My little swot. Can’t even choose a favourite class after all these years.

“Probably charms, or transfiguration. I really enjoyed care of magical creatures as well. Arithmancy and alchemy felt familiar and came easily to me because they reminded me of muggle maths and chemistry. I think...”

You trailed off as the scan turned an angry colour for a minute before it settled back down.

The healer looked at the scan and asked again.

“You liked charms, transfiguration, care of magical creatures, arithmancy, alchemy and...”

The scan moved again, and even Sirius could notice that a flash of light was trying to travel a path between two memories, but one appeared to be wrapped up inside of a silver-coloured orb, which caused the light that had been travelling to it to splinter and disperse.

“And, I think, uhm,” You tried again as your left eye started twitching. “I enjoyed astronomy.” You finished on an exhale.

“Astronomy.” The healer clarified.

“Uhm,” You thought again, “yes, I liked astronomy.”

“Did it cause physical pain to recall that information?”

“Yes.”

Sirius and Lily exchanged a glance.

“Where did it hurt?”

You sighed, “the pain seems to stay primarily behind my left eye. If I try too hard it becomes a pulsing pain that seems to circulate around my skull. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better.”

“No apologies necessary, this is very helpful.”

The healer was quiet for a moment while she looked through the notes.

“Okay, do you remember graduating from Hogwarts?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “I remember that I did graduate, but I don’t remember the day.”

“And what did you do after graduation?”

“I moved in with friends.”

“Who did you live with?”

The scan flashed again.

“I don’t know.” You admitted.

“Did you work?”

“I remember working. I remember fighting.”

“But...” The healer pushed.

“But I cannot remember for whom or with who was working nor fighting.”

The healer was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N, can you look at Sirius for me please.”

Your gaze moved and you held eye contact with Sirius.

“Think of a memory with him.” You were instructed.

A light travelled in the lower left scan unaffected.

“Can you describe the memory?”

A faint blush appeared on your cheeks.

“I thought of how he held me this morning, after an argument in the kitchen.” You admitted.

Sirius’ heart thumped in his chest. When asked for a memory of him, you thought of being held in his arms. I’m one hell of a lucky man.

“Very good. Now, Sirius, can you ask her about a memory from before she went missing?” The healer in structed.

Sirius thought for a moment.

“Do you remember when we got into a fight, and you charmed my hair pink and wouldn’t reverse it until I announced in front of the entire Great Hall that I was wrong and you were smarter than me?”

Your scan flashed violently as the healer and your friends watched a light travel along a path towards the same large silver orb as before. As soon as the light met the orb, it splintered. You winced.

“Okay, alright. Now, look at Lily please.”

You looked back up at your red-headed friend as your left eye stopped twitching. The red head offered a gentle smile in return.

“Think of a memory with Lily.”

Again, they watched as a light travelled along a path on your scan completely uninterrupted.

“What was your memory?”

“She made me tea and served it the way that I like.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday – last night. I don’t know what time.”

“Very good,” the healer said, looking at her notes. “Now Lily, can you tell her a memory of you two from before?”

Lily smirked. “What about the time we skived off prefect rounds to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake after we caught McLaggen cheating on me?”

The scan flashed violently again as the light travelled to an orange-coloured orb and splintered upon impact.

“I see...” The healer stated, more to herself than anyone else.

“Healer Grundke, what is it that we’re seeing?” Lily asked finally. Sirius was thankful someone else voiced it, he was sort of intimidated by this woman if he was being honest.

“Well, I can’t be sure yet, but I have a hypothesis. Perhaps we can test it out.” She turned to the other three adults in the room. “Do any of you know how to occlude?”

James shook his head and Lily grimaced, but Sirius nodded his head. “I can’t say I’m extremely good at the practice, but I have some experience.”

“That’ll do, Sirius. Can you please sit beside Y/N here?”

Sirius smirked “I would love nothing more, m’lady.” He said in a sultry voice and winked at you. You rolled her eyes at him. Oh my Godric! We’re making progress!

Sirius propped himself on the bed entirely closer to you than was strictly necessary, but he couldn’t really be blamed, he was after all just a man.

The healer walked across the room and picked up a small picture frame from the fire mantle. She looked at Sirius to ensure he was watching her and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and smashed to the ground.

“We were all thinking it, and she just does it.” James murmured to himself, earning him a kick in the shin from his wife.

The healer walked back over to Sirius and pulled up a matching scan of his brain above him. He was astonished to see how different his scan looked compared to yours. Your lights travelling the paths were a warm yellow, while his were red. The thoughts and paths were also organized differently.

“Okay Sirius, please recall the memory of what you just saw me do.”

Sirius did as he was asked, and the healer watched his scan as the red light travelled a set path before she used her wand to mark where the light travelled to.

“Thank you, now occlude that memory from your mind for me.”

Sirius closed his eyes in concentration. Occlusion didn’t come as naturally to him as it had to his younger brother Regulus, possibly because Sirius never much felt like keeping his thoughts to himself anyways. He preferred to anger his parents by voicing his thoughts and opinions, whilst Regulus found comfort in keeping those locked away. Nevertheless, Sirius understood that sometimes one needed to lock some thoughts away, what with his psychopath cousin Bellatrix and her love for Legillimency. It was also one of the only ways Sirius survived his time at Grimmauld before he finally left for good in the summer between 5th and 6th year. Sirius boxed up this memory of the healer smashing the picture frame in his mind and slowly opened his eyes, keeping the memory in its box.

Sirius’ eyes fell to Lily who looked astonished. He took a peak up to his scan where the healer had erased her mark and exposed a purple-coloured orb that sat in its place.

“Is that...Is that the memory?” He asked under his breath, hardly believing what he was seeing.

“I believe it is.” She answered.

The room sat in silence for a few moments before Lily broke it.

“So, are you suggesting that the orbs present in Y/N’s scans are areas of occlusion?” Lily asked scrutinizing the scan above her friend’s head.

“I believe it is Lily. My current theory is that your friend has occluded memories associated with those closest to her.”

“But she remembered her parents, and siblings.” James interjected from the far side of the room.

“But they didn’t need protecting.” Lily exhaled, looking wide-eyed at her friend.

“Exactly.” The healer said, clearly impressed with the thought process of Lily Evans Potter as well as her own work here today.

“So let me get this straight.” James stated, standing up with a baby in his arms and joining everyone else in the centre of the room. “Y/N has buried her memories of us - her friends and Order members - so deep inside her brain that even she can’t access them in order to keep them safe against...”

“Against people willing to use torture, Legillimency, or other nefarious means to get information. Yes James, exactly.” Sirius finished James’ thought bluntly, staring at his friend with a blank face.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m a total arse.” He concluded.

“Yes, and we have it on a healer’s authority too.” Lily agreed, winking at Sirius.

Sirius glanced up at his scan and noticed the box surrounding his memory fading. The occlusion was wearing off.

“But look, the protection of the memory was worn off now that I’m not focused on protecting it. As far as we know, Y/N isn’t even aware that she is protecting memories. Why is it different?” He asked the healer.

“I'm aware that there are protected memories, I’m just not actively trying to do it.” You countered.

“I have to admit, I’ve not seen anything quite like this before myself.” The healer admitted. “It would appear that whoever or whatever you were trying to protect these memories from required more than a temporary solution.”

“Will she be able to resurface the buried memories?” Lily interjected.

“I believe so. There’s very little that magic can’t undo,” She started as she waved her wand with a quick reparo to the picture frame and the sheet rock that the picture frame hit. “I suspect once she begins to relax and feel safe in her surroundings, this underlying sense of needing to protect the memories will dissipate.”

The room stayed quiet for a few moments; Sirius looked over at you as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. He wished so badly he could jump inside your brain and know what you were thinking. How did this all make you feel?

“I feel a pull,” You started quietly. “When I’m trying to recall a memory, or someone tries to remind me of something. It’s as if someone is pulling at rocks that have been tightly wedged into a crack in the wall. Sometimes they wobble or crumble a bit. Hurts like hell for a minute but, I don’t think it’s impossible.”

The healer hummed in acknowledgement. “It seems that patience and time will be the answer then. It is likely a good thing that your memories don’t all come flooding back in at once. That’s likely to be very painful, both physically and emotionally.”

The room collectively nodded at her words.

“Healer Grundke, could you show me the spell for this scan? It appears that the grey orb is Y/N’s memories of Sirius, and when she tried to recall her memory with me in school, it went to this orange orb. I think we’d be able to help her with some memories if we understood more how they were being organized.” Lily asked.

The healer stared at Lily for a long moment. “It would be my pleasure, dear.” She took a few minutes to show Lily who practiced the incantation over James’ head. “You know, after this war, you’d have quite the career as a healer.”

Lily’s face lit up to the colour of her hair as she stared abashedly at the healer. “Thank you, healer Grundke, that’s quite a compliment.”

The healer smiled kindly at Lily and patted her shoulder, “You give me a call when you’d like to chat more.”

The adults shared some goodbyes as the healer wished you a speedy recovery and Harry babbled absolute nonsense with his slobbery fist waving at everyone.

“Y/N, I owe you one hell of an apology.” James started once Sirius returned from escorting the healer back to St. Mungo's. “Actually, I owe you many apologies, but I want to start with how I treated you this morning.”

Sirius, who was still feeling petulant over the matter, scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. You, on the other hand – the beautiful angel that you are – smiled kindly at your friend despite Sirius’ demeanour.

“That’s alright, James. I don’t think I’d trust myself much either.” You looked back down at your hands. “Someone who’s been held by Death Eaters shows up unannounced and conveniently can’t remember a thing? That’s not suspicious at all.” You laughed wryly.

James seemed appeased by your words, but Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s you babe, you’re not suspicious.”

You looked at Sirius very intensely before responding. “But how much of me is left here, Sirius? Do you recognize me? The person I was?”

Sirius stuttered. “Well, yeah. I mean, love, you’re still in there.”

You grimaced and returned your glance to your hands.

“Who is someone without their memories? Their experiences? Those things make a person. I’m nothing more than a shell.” You admitted quietly.

“Oh, honey.” Lily said as she walked back into the room, having put Harry down for a nap. “You haven’t forgotten everything, just us.” You laughed at the deprecation. “And we’re not gone completely, see?” She paused as she pulled your scan back up. She pointed at the orange orb. “There’s me, and there’s this oaf.” She pointed at the grey orb as she nodded towards Sirius who scoffed.

“And tell me, do you remember when James convinced you to set Snape’s robes on fire in 5th year?” She asked and watched as a light travelled towards a red orb before splintering. “See, right here, there’s James!”

“Did I really light his robes on fire?” You asked quietly, looking at James.

“You sure did beautiful; I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone ever in my entire life. Until the day Lily gave birth to our pride and joy of course, but that day still remains a very close second.” He proclaimed. Sirius chuckled and Lily rolled her eyes.

“See? We’re still in there, and we still make up quite a significant portion of your mind, which makes you, you. You’re still here, and we’ll help you get it all back.” Lily finished.

You smiled at your friend with a loving gaze, and Sirius already felt a step closer to the you that had been buried – literally - this past year.

“Were you really with Death Eaters the whole time you’ve been gone?” Sirius asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Surprisingly, your scan flashed violently, and lights travelled toward two orbs – one black and one green – on the opposite side of the scan. “Yes, I was kept mostly at the Lestrange Manor.” You admitted.

Sirius shuddered. His bat-shit crazy cousin, her husband and her brother-in-law were not ideal hosts for even an afternoon tea, let alone for the past few months.

“You had allies?” Lily whispered, eyes not moving from the green and black orbs on her scan.

“Allies? With Death Eaters?” James asked incredulously.

“James.” Sirius warned, putting his arm behind you protectively.

“James, don’t start.” Lily added. “Look, she’s alive which is more than any of us ever expected. That is thanks to someone, seeing as she had life-ending injuries the last anyone saw her. Plus, I don’t remember her being well-versed in occlumency while she fought with the Order, do you?” She asked the two men who both shook their heads.

“No, so that means, someone taught her. Someone knew she had people to protect and then they helped her do so.” She added and watched again as lights travelled to the two orbs before fizzing out.

Sirius looked over at you as you rubbed none-to-gently at your temples. He leaned into you and placed his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why don’t we call it a day, hm?” He asked as he drew circles against your back. He could feel you nod your ascent.

“Dumbledore called an Order meeting tonight, five o’clock.” James reminded the room. “Gives you guys about three hours for a nap.”

“That might be good, yeah? You can see everyone again, maybe it’ll help jog your memory.” Lily offered and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You breathed out without looking up.

“Okay, that’s it. You two, out.” Sirius said pointed at Lily and James. “It’s nap time for Princess here.”

“’M not a princess.” You muttered causing Lily and James to chuckle.

“Who said I was talking about you, gorgeous? Now out, out!” He quite literally shooed the other two adults out of the room (in their own house, mind you) and closed the door behind them. He turned to face you as you sat on the bed looking at him with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that look for?” He asked as innocently as Sirius Black could manage.

“If you wanted a nap so bad, you could have just said so Princess.” You said, smirking at him.

“I have no shame; I’m willing to admit I am a Princess and would love a nap.” He peeled his jumper off and watched as you moved up to the head of the bed and laid down on the right side. Sirius felt a crack in his chest at the sight of you curled up there; that was the side of the bed you always took when you moved in together. Without thinking, Sirius shifted into Padfoot and leapt onto the bed, curling up on the opposite side. He was startled by a sharp laugh.

“No way.”

Padfoot turned to you and tilted his head.

“I remember Padfoot.” You said. The large black dog could feel both of his ears pop up as he let out a whine. Remembers. Remembers good dog.

“He was always such a pain in my ass.” You muttered with a smirk as you pulled the throw blanket over your body. Padfoot’s chest rumbled, am not pain, am good dog. You heard what could only be described as a doggy scoff as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Continue to part three here.

#marauders era #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #first wizarding war #first wizarding war fanfic #reader insert #escapism #self insert #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

Text

Demon Fire.

Yan Kafka x F Reader x Yan Blade.

Synopsis: Where is this train going?

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, and manipulation.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

“Which seat do you want, darling?” Kafka asks, her thumb still making circles over your own.

Her hair is half put up in a ponytail as usual, the rest flowing down the sides of her face. She only held her purse, which held only her wallet, her phone, snacks, water, and pictures of you with her and Blade. Blade pulls her suitcase, as well as yours and his, through the narrow gap between the seat rows, with his bag noticeably smaller compared to Kafka's and yours.

You point to the one closest to the window, and Kafka smiles. “That one.”

She nods, and Blade begins to put the luggage in the cabinet above, being silent all the while you and Kafka sit down.

“Neither of you have told me where we are going.” You say as Kafka puts her head on your shoulder.

“Be patient, my dear girl. You will find out soon. You’ll love it, I promise. Bladie and I spent a lot of time searching for a place to celebrate.”

You ask what you are all celebrating, and she continues.

“Do not fret, it will only be a few hours before we reach our destination. We’ll just cuddle for now, and chat. There are also movies to watch and sights to see out the window. Both the ride there and where we are going is going to be so relaxing for all of us. You have my word. Or my honor. Whichever you prefer, dear.” You stop paying attention to her words halfway through, and when she realizes this she pecks your cheek. “Though I suspect you think that neither of them exist.”

“Maybe.” As the train begins its journey, you gaze out the window, murmuring to yourself. Like a well-rehearsed performance or clockwork, an array of colorful flowers and plants glide past, each one swiftly replaced by another. Before you know it, the vibrant beauty of spring and the whispers of Kafka lull you to sleep.

…

The landscape was a surprise, yet not entirely, as it lay in a remote location devoid of human presence except for the occupants of the cabin nestled at the foot of the verdant hill. The vast expanse was a haven of blossoms, grass, and foliage, enough to supply a lifetime's worth of adornments for a spring festival. Every imaginable flower and plant seemed to find a home here. In the nearby lake, crystal clear waters mirrored the mountain's grandeur, while tranquil sea bass and carp glided serenely beneath the surface.

Nestled beside the solitary cottage stood a windmill, its weathered blades casting a gentle shadow. Atop the one aimed towards the heavens, doves perched, unharmed, indicating the absence of predator birds in this vicinity. The setting appeared idyllic, yet a lingering unease persisted within. Despite the hours that have passed, questions lingered in your mind; what is the purpose behind Blade and Kafka bringing you to this place, and what are they commemorating?

Kafka is the one who guides you, as always, holding your hand gently and pulling you along as she chatters away. Blade, as always, simply watches from behind you two like a shadow.

…

It is Blade that opens the door to the cottage, his face still stoic, as Kafka wraps one of her arms around your waist. You have adorned yourself in the attire she adores, a lacy, ebony dress accompanied by sheer black stockings and elegant flats. Much to your misfortune, according to her, Blade doesn’t hate this outfit either.

Even though Blade was the one to open the door, it is you who is forced to step in first, and it is you who is forced to sit down first at the little wooden circular table surrounded by three chairs.

“You still haven’t told me what this is about, Kafka.” Despite your curiosity, you don’t dare to raise one of your eyebrows.

“Yes, yes. Let us just rest for a moment. I’m tired.”

“...Okay. It’s just… you’ve kept me in the dark for the past few days about this trip, so…”

Kafka lets out an exaggerated sigh before sitting down as well with a thump, pressing her thumb and forefinger against her temple, gently massaging in circular motions. She is acting like she was the one who carried all of the luggage, and not Blade, who is still putting your suitcases down in the corner. “Come on, love… I’m tired, take pity on poor little old me.”

“...”

Finally, Blade sits down in the last chair. You’re not surprised by his silence anymore.

“...” In his customary manner, he rests his hands on his lap, maintaining a polite sitting posture. Unchanging, his countenance remains impassive; it is difficult to recall a single instance where a smile has graced his face, except for those dreadful moments when he is mara-struck.

“Sigh. Bladie, which suitcase did you put the peaches in? Was it [First]’s? I’m craving one.” If you were Blade, you would have rolled your eyes. “Really badly. Almost as much as I crave our dearest. I’ll get it myself.”

“...[First]’s.”

In a split second, Kafka's wearied expression transforms into a radiant grin as she stands up and walks toward your suitcase leaning against the wall.

Kafka's gaze freezes time as he rummages through your luggage, searching for the bag of peaches. As Blade utters his words, his voice retains its roughness, yet it carries a touch of tenderness.

“...Do you like this place, [First]?” He asks, looking at you. You think he is trying to put on a small smile, from the way his lips are slightly curved upward, but it does not comfort you as intended. “We picked this place for you.”

“But why?”

As ironic as it may seem, it is always Blade you ask questions to because at least he gives straightforward answers.

“Didn’t Kafka tell you?” For once, Blade seems confused. Was he not paying attention every time you asked? “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? ...Did you not know that?”

“...Well, I’m not exactly always given access to calendars…”

“...Fair.”

You hear Kafka's mischievous laughter from the corner.

“...But happy birthday regardless, [First].”

Once more, his smile achieves the opposite of its intended effect.

#he's trying his best guys </3 #yandere #yandere x reader #aya abstractions #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere kafka x reader #yandere kafka #yandere blade #yandere hsr #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #yandere blade x reader #kafka x reader

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blackmarketfruitrollups · 7 months

Text

Bad For Business (Howl Pendragon X Fem!Reader)

Warnings: None really, just a fluffy little drabble

Knock knock

"Who could that be?" Y/n muttered, setting aside the bread dough she'd been kneading and wiping her flour covered hands on her apron. She started making her way through her cottage towards the front door, dodging the drying herbs hanging from the ceiling and speaking quietly to herself. "I'm sure the sign out there says closed."

You see, Y/n worked at an apothecary, or more accurately lived in an apothecary. She lived in a small little cottage toward the edge of town, her property surrounded by a fence covered in rosebushes. Behind her home was the garden in which she grew the herbs and other medicinal plants for her customers, often being occupied by her grouchy cat Snips.

Speaking of which, here he came now, the old black cat hobbling towards the front door on his three remaining legs to see what the commotion was about.

Knock Knock

Once they both had arrived at the door Y/n unlocked and opened it to reveal two children, a boy and girl who looked to be around ten. They both seemed nervous, the girl hiding behind the boy as he shifted on his feet looking rather skittish.

Snips poked his head around Y/n's legs and yowled at the sight of unfamiliar guests, making both the children jump and look at him frightened.

"Can I help you two?" Y/n smiled, gently pushing Snips back into the house and out of view with her foot.

"Uh, well-" the girl started before the boy cut her off.

"We've come to see the Wizard-" he paused, looking her up and down before continuing. "Uh Witch Howl. I'm assuming that's you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes and smiled softly, shaking her head with a chuckle. "I'm afraid I'm not."

Both the children looked dreadfully confused, tilting their heads at her.

"We were told to come down this street, they said it would be obvious were the wizard lived." The boy stated.

"We came here because we assumed the wizard would live in a scary looking cottage." The girl piped up.

"A scary looking cottage?" Y/n laughed again. "Well what's so scary about it?"

"You have gargoyles out front." The boy deadpanned.

"I saw bats in those trees." The girl pointed towards one of the trees in her front yard.

"Oh that's just Frank and his family." The woman said, waving it off.

"You have a black cat roaming around screaming." The boy stared pointedly behind her legs at Snips.

"Your shutters are painted black-" the girl started again.

"Alright, alright I get your point." Y/n stopped them. "Would you believe this is the eighth time this has happened this week?" She sighed, then smiled softly.

"The Wizard Howl lives across the street."

"You mean in that place covered in lights and flowers and pinwheels an-" the boy started listing.

"Yes that would be the one." Y/n laughed. "There you will find the great Wizard Howl. And please, tell him he needs to put up a sign. I run an apothecary, people already assume I'm a witch and this isn't really helping."

She waved to the children as the walked back down her front path and out the gate. Shutting and locking the door she turned and looked to Snips who was laying lazily in a windowsill with one eye half open.

"I tell you that man is bad for business. Well, I suppose incase those kids forget I'll tell him to put up a sign myself over supper. Well c'mon Snippy, I've got food to finish."

#fanfiction #fluff #x reader #x fem!reader #x plus size reader #howl x reader #howl pendragon x reader #howls moving castle #studio ghibli #drabble #fluffy short #x reader fluff #howl pendragon #cottagecore #x reader cottagecore

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aisquaredchoco · 24 days

Text

I know I said I'm getting a little rest from making cc, but I just can't sit here knowing I reached 900 followers and do nothing about it. Though these were just unreleased projects that were wating to be posted during the time I had a broken internet at home so no worries, I didn't pressure myself to make these as these were made carefully and with love. So here's a token of gratitude for the huge following I continuously receive all throughout. Thank you everyone! 🥰

4to3 Eco Lifestyle "Panel to the Metal" Wall

-- Three channels, cost §3, found in Walls > Paneling

4to3 Eco Lifestyle "Layered Paneling" Floor

-- Two channels, cost §4, found in Floors > Metal

4to3 Cottage Living "All Good Days Daisy Box"

-- Ah yes, this is the plant I showed on the tutorial I shared not a little long ago. One channel with 7 presets for each flower variation, costs §50, found in Decor > Plants. Contains the original catalog description from TS4.

4to3 Seasons "Branching Out"

-- Four channels (yes, even the flowers!), costs §50, found in Decor > Plants. Contains the original catalog description from TS4.

4to3 Spa Day "Wheatless-Wheat Grass"

-- Two variations, one with a single channel and another with two channels. Costs §65, found in Decor > Plants. Contains the original catalog description from TS4.

4to3 For Rent "Indoor Outdoor Plastic Chair"

-- I had my eyes set on this plastic chair when For Rent came out, so I know I have to convert it for my game. And anyone else who wants it can have it too! One channel, costs §30, found in Comfort > dining Chairs, Misc. Contains the original catalog description from TS4.

***UPDATE 12 APR 2024: PLEASE REDOWNLOAD!

***The chair's holes are not shown to be transparent. This is now updated with the corrected transparency. Sorry for the inconvenience!

4to3 Greenhouse Haven Kit "The Plant Platform by Plant-It"

-- Two channels, costs §175, found in Surfaces > Shelves, Misc. Shiftable with 7 slots. Contains the original catalog description from TS4.

Decades "JuxtaPlant" Separated Planter* and Plant

-- Self-explanatory, made the planter and plant as separate objects. The planter has the same two channels and a single slot for the plants to put on, price is reduced to §100. The plant is non recolorable and costs §75. Both are found in Decor > Plants.

Fast Lane "Stack O'Storage" as Planter*

-- Aside from being a garage clutter, this stack of crates from Fast Lane can also be a planter of your choice too, also with a slot for your plants. Priced §75, found in Decor > Plants.

Base Game Ficus and Philodendron as Separate Plants

Same with the JuxtaPlant plant, these were also 'depotted' from their vases and can be freely placed in any emptied planters. Non-recolorable, cost §150 (Ficus) and §50 (Philodendron). Both found in Decor > Plants.

*note: these planters will not work with harvestable plants, as these are made for decorative purposes only. If someone wants to remake them as functional planters, please do so!

Everything is base game compatible!

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare | Mediafire

#ts3cc #download #dl:buy #sims 3 #ts3 #followers gift #ts4 to ts3 #4to3 #4t3 #s3cc

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cloudywriting05 · 4 months

Note

what Coryo do with one wife rebel? When she look what happening with districts and she will so angry. Coryo yandere please 🙏

my second suggestion ever! 🫀

Coriolanus is already yandere. in the book, he’s obsessive and compulsive. I’ll amp up those aspects and make him a psycho! I’ll make this one shorter and sweet.

the perfect girl → coriolanus snow

→ peacekeeper!coriolanus, yandere!coriolanus

→ word count: 1833

→ summary: Coriolanus becomes infatuated with you instantly, but poeple threaten your future with him– in his eyes, atleast.

Coriolanus had his mind made up about how he felt about you from the moment he saw you.

Walking through the main area of district 12, he spotted your small frame behind a small wooden stand that spelt: FRESH FLOWERS. Your dark locks fell down your back, red ribbons tied on either side. He vividly recalled his body halting at the sight of you, your skin warm, he’d never seen anything like it in the Capitol. Your cheeks red and full of life, lips the colour of a tulip. Through the herds of people, you saw him staring at you, initially worried, you shot a smile feebly; scared he was going to hurt you. Coriolanus stood idly, wondering how anyone this beautiful was in the districts with the other rats and beggars.

Your breath staggered as he approached your stand, horrified. He stopped at the very front and smiled at you. “Can I help you, Mr Peacekeeping Sir?”

Your greeting threw him off guard completely, “Yes, can I buy a flower? I am in awful in need of one for some peculiar reason,” his eyes peered down at your chest and back up at your eyes, “if my vision wasn’t so clear I would’ve mistaken you for a flower, dear.”

You choked back a small laugh, was he flirting with you? He was very attractive, tall, and strong, you thought. His shoulders were broad, framed well by his uniform. His hair buzzed and bright blonde, his eyes the colour of your favourite lake near your home. You began to scan your stand for what type he may have liked, desperately wanting to impress him. “What kind of flowers do you like? Do you have a certain favourite? If I don’t have your favourite what’s your favourite colour, or look?”

“I like how you look; you would be enough.”

You laughed nervously, “I don’t know if it’s allowed, or if you can just take people like that, I think...”

“I’m just joking with you, doll. I’d like a rose.”

You snatched a rose from the fresh bunch and stuck your hand out to him. He took the rose from your hand and placed it on top of your right ear. He looked at your stunned face, your cheeks glowing a deeper red. You both stood quietly for a moment, the sound of people around filling the silence.

“It’s a dime for one, sir… but since you’ve put it on my ear, I don’t exactly know what to do next.”

“Here,” he fished in pocket for coins and put it on your stand, around thirty of them. “Take these.”

“Really?” you almost squealed, this would be enough for food for the next week or so alone.

“Not for free, I want to see you again. That’s the price.”

“You have a deal, Mr Peacekeeper, sir.”

“It’s just Coriolanus, my dear, just Coriolanus,” he stuck his hand through the stand and ran it down your hair, “I’ll see you here again, soon, I hope.”

And so, he did, day after day, week after week. Stopping and speaking to you whenever he had the chance. You two had so much in common you both silently thought it was fate. Coriolanus’s sudden obsession with you had taken a toll on his duties, he was almost always smiling. You didn’t know he was Lucy Gray’s mentor, and he didn’t plan on letting you know. He was in complete bliss knowing your district couldn’t afford TV.

Your relationship grew closer within the matter of months. Spending time with each other outside your duties. Spending a night with him at your family’s cottage behind the fields, a night filled with laughter, and sex. You grew hopeful for what he was going to bring to your life, he was like an angel, you thought.

You stood at your stall again, selling flowers as per usual. But this time a young man had approached you; he was also attractive. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Hi…. Flowers?” You asked, motioning towards the display.

“Come on, you’re too pretty to be standing around here. Say, what’re you doing after this?”

“I am… going to the lake, why?”

“Let me join you, we could have fun?” he asked, your heart began to thump profusely. Worried for your safety. You were meant to meet with Coriolanus, the same way you had been for the past weeks. He wouldn’t like this at all, you thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I want to.” you spoke. The boy’s facial expression dropped, the disappointment in his face evident.

“Whatever, Miss.” he said, stalking off. You let out a deep sigh, relieved.

You began fixing up your stand. What you hadn’t noticed was Coriolanus, who had seen your entire interaction with that boy. Saying he was seething was an understatement. The scrawny boy dared to talk to his woman, his doll. Coriolanus desperately tried to control his anger, taking deep breaths in and out, whatever method he could think of to control his urge to break your stand and kill that boy.

That night Coriolanus never stopped by, upset, you went to sleep. The truth was he had stalked the boy from the stall down, catching him off guard at the water stand. Coriolanus didn’t waste a moment and began beating the boy, who was utterly confused.

“Why are you crying?” He yelled, clutching the boy’s hair, and slamming it into the water stand, the sound of his nose breaking echoed.

“I don’t know who you are! Stop! Please!”

“Why the fuck should I? I hate obstacles. You made her smile; you are an obstacle. You know what I do to obstacles?” the boy, beaten bloody, shook his head. Coriolanus grabbed a large rock from beside him and raised it above his head. “I get rid of them.”

He slammed the rock into the boy’s skull, killing him instantly. The most complex thing was, Coriolanus did not know of your conversation with this boy. Although he had made a move on you, he wasn’t aware of that. All Coriolanus saw was you smile at him briefly. He couldn’t have that, no way, not at all.

He felt rejuvenated, almost redeemed. Cleaning himself off he went to his bed and slept well.

News spread of the sudden murder of that boy; Coriolanus was ironically tasked with apprehending whoever did it. Elated while he raided and beat others in the pursuit. Accusing others of his wrongdoings, he felt invincible. He however was missing you, what were you up to? He thought. He decided to stop by your home and speak to you.

Crouching down near your front window, he peered in on the obvious argument. “We must blow it up, no looking back, okay? Sejanus. I don’t want to have to leave you out of this plan.”

Sejanus? Why on God’s earth was Sejanus in your home, he thought. Once again, Coriolanus fought the raging urge to break the door down and shoot him. Seething, he listened in longer.

“Listen, if we do this. The Capitol can’t ignore us, at all, I don’t wanna hurt anyone though,” Sejanus said.

“We won’t, Sej. Okay?”

“Alright.”

You were a rebel? This couldn’t be, thought. You were his angel, his perfect girl, everything he had ever dreamed of in the Capitol, in a body. He wasn’t going to lose you, especially to Sejanus. He was so angry he could strangle you, why were you throwing your life away? To defend the beggars of the districts? It washed over him that you were never different to anyone in the district, you were the same. Dirt poor, and a beggar. But you were so beautiful he’d been blinded; still Coriolanus refused to lose you. He could change you. You could be a Capitol girl; you could be his Capitol girl.

He’d been dreaming of it every night since he’d met you. He would take you to the Capitol and wed you, you could be great;he could make you great. You couldn’t see that, and it drove him insane, you constantly yapped about how much you loved district 12. It repulsed him. He needed you though and he refused to leave you here.

He devised a plan. A plan so malevolent that he hesitated to go through with it although it ultimately had to be done.

And so, it was.

A day or two passed and you hadn’t seen or heard from neither Sejanus nor Coriolanus. You were notified about the public hanging of two men in the district and were woken up early to attend. The crowd gathered around the hanging tree and waited nervously for the revelation of the two perpetrators. Commander Hoff emerged onto the platform, guarded by six peacekeepers. Your eyes widened as you recognised a uniformed Coriolanus, glowering at you. Uncomfortable under his gaze for the first time ever, your eyes shot away and at Hoff.

“Today, is a very joyous day for Panem. We have found the person both responsible for the murder of young Arthur Alden, and conspiring of the rebel bombings in the Capitol,” his voice boomed.

The crowd gasped as commotion stirred behind you, you span to be greeted with a sight that would stay engraved in your brain forever. A bloodied Sejanus being dragged by two peacekeepers. Your heart dropped. Sobbing unconsolably, you gripped your chest, watching Sejanus being dragged to the front. Coriolanus revelling at the sight of your tears. This is how you had to learn; this is the only way.

“I am very disappointed to say that the person in question is Capitol and noble background; Sejanus Plinth is hereby sentenced to death for treason.”

“I didn’t do anything! Please! Coriolanus? Y/N? Please!”

“God! Help him! Sejanus!” you cried while running out to the front of the platform. The peacekeepers rushed to your side, prying off and away. “No! Sejanus!”

“Please!” Sejanus cried out, the peacekeeper wrapping the noose around his neck showing no mercy.

Coriolanus watched you, thrashing yourself around, yelling. He thought to himself that his plan of framing Sejanus could not have gone any better. No more obstacles. You struggling to free yourself from the peacekeepers, your cries; these were all signs. Signs you were disciplined, that you have learned. The crowd muttering in horror, Lucy Gray among them watching in terror.

“Coryo! Please! Y/N! No!” he screamed. You watched as the platform retracted, his body dropping; his neck snapping instantly.

His body flailed around until it went limp. You stopped thrashing against the peacekeepers and dropped to the floor. You let out a shriek so deep the entire district seemed to silence itself. Coriolanus rejoiced at the sight of the dead obstacle.

He wanted you to know that this was all for you, to pick you off the floor and kiss you. He would move mountains for you and bring the world to your feet. Kill and lie for you repeatedly, nothing gets in the way of him and his tulip.

Not now, not ever.

FIN

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #snow lands on top

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 2 months

Text

Quarter-Final Two

Propaganda...

Willougby (1995) :

95 Willoughby is testosterone on legs when he whisks Marianne into the cottage. Everyone is flummoxed by him and I love it. You feel Marianne’s pain and shock that this seemingly perfect man who was her soulmate is a cad. She questions her own judgment in everything wondering if any of it was real. Pretty perfect.

Look is the man a rake yes! But you can't be a rake if you're not hot and this is a hotness competition - out of all the men left in this tournament John Willougby is the man who knows the art of seduction. Look at how he takes off Marianne's shoe in this scene - think of how he would take off everything else. He runs through the rain - sweeps her off her feet and then asks to call - comes the next day with flowers and a pocket of SHakespeare sonnets - he may not be reliable but he is undoubtedly hot!

youtube

1995 Willoughby was so good that Emma Thompson married him

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

#quarter-finals #hotjaneaustenmenpoll #Willoughby #captain wentworth #john willoughby #sense and sensibility 1995 #persuasion 1995 #greg wise #ciaran hinds #persuasion #sense and sensibility #jane austen #Youtube

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dxmoness · 10 months

Text

─────── YOU'RE HERE WITH ME. . .

━━━━ dion agriche. manhwa. twtpflob

‣ fluff with a twist ending! no warnings . ୨:୧

‣ masterlist . recent works . dion agriche ━━━━

Dion wakes up, the feeling of something heavy on his chest was unmistakable. It was her, his beautiful darling.

A smile appears on his lips as he leaned and kissed her soft skin. This caused her to wake and stare at him. His red eyes show joy in them as his hand runs through her hair, his fingers working their tangles.

"Mine..." He whispered sweetly as he kissed her passionately.

She smiles at him as his darling stands up and walks maybe she was going to make their food. He stretched his hands before he gets up to follow her.

His arm wraps around her as he buries his face in her neck, taking in her scent. The scent that drove him mad.

"What are you making?" He peeks to see her mixing batter. Thirty minutes later, both of them sat eating the muffins she made for them with some tea paired up with it.

Then he helps her out their cottage. This is where he retreated after all the chaos with his family. The place where he and his darling could stay without anyone from his family attempting to murder her.

He watches as she goes to tend to one of their flower patches. A small smile appears on his lips as he steps forward to her. He kneels next to the crouching female, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair back in place.

After tending to the plants, the two went horseback riding. Dion behind her, arms wrapped protectively around the female's waist. They took four laps through the normal trail before his darling starts going around random directions. Since he knew this forest well he allowed her to do what she wished. Then the two went back to the cottage where they ate lunch and lay together on the bed for rest.

Now it was evening, they were both on the sofa now. His head on her lap while she read. He, on the other hand, remained quiet and watched her. She was even more beautiful in the moonlight.

The two of them did this routine everyday. Eat breakfast, tend to the garden, horseback riding, eat lunch, nap together, eat dinner, read together or play games. Then it ended with sleeping together.

Now he comes back to his old home. His hand still on his darling's as he enters. Roxana greets him, not warmly but not coldly either. There is a certain tone to her voice as she speaks. "Is something wrong, Dion?"

"Name, don't run now..." Then a flash of alarm appears on Roxana's normally cold facade. "Dion?" "Yes?" "Did you say 'Name'?" "Yes, why?"

"Name died during the battle of our house years ago..."

─────── NOTE?!

haha...

─────── iNViTATiONS?!

@d10nsaint , @dion-s-lawyer , @dreamlessnight

#• . breve · short fics!#• . d. agriche #• . the way to protect the female lead's older brother · works!#x female reader #x female y/n #yandere x darling #dion agriche x reader #dion x reader #deon agriche x reader #deon agrece #dion agriche #the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader #the way to protect the female lead’s older brother #the way to protect the heroine's brother #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtpflob #twtpflob x reader #twtptflob x reader #twtpflob dion

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mamamangaka · 3 months

Text

(No one has posted this and I need it so I shall cook for myself)

- Yandere!Alastor with a g/n reader who likes toys and art stuff -

Okay so here’s the thing I kinda see about Alastor:

Hes a fucking looney who will do anything and everything to keep you if he happens to fall in love.

But lemme tell you if you break past those walls and manage to ameliorate his aceness to the point that he’s yandere about you then baby you done.

You might as well have signed over your soul to him.

I like to think only one thing in particular would peak his interest at first.

Maybe your drawing outside a coffee shop -

Or reading tarot cards at the park?

Perhaps even reading under a tree, who knows?

But whatever it is, Alastor saw you and he froze.

He never once expected to fall so deeply in love (especially not at first sight) and I feel that when he did finally succumb after a bit of denial, it would be a quick realization and he’d make a decision to seek you out immediately.

He’d closely stalk you for some time but when he gets you, he’d keep you in his radio tower, where no one else goes and where his world really is.

He’d probably kidnap you mere weeks after realizing he’s enamored, it wouldn’t take long before he came up behind you out of nowhere.

He was someone you’d only seen once or twice in passing but found attractive each time, though you weren’t exactly thinking about a partnership.

He wouldn’t be asking you, he’d simply take you.

(You didn’t need to know he’d been admiring you anyway.)

You weren’t someone of great power or who was well known. You simply met a tragic fate and unfortunately ended up here by mistake due to being involved in “black magic”.

It was unfair, in your opinion, to be cast down simply due to your divination talents and history.

Never once did you misuse your gifts yet here you were.

When you come around, you’re in Alastor room in the hotel.

He explains the situation and gives you options.

You ask to go, not interested in whatever he’s offering and he explains that’s not an option so you need to pick another one.

After demanding to leave, trying to open the door, banging and calling for help and eventually pleading and sobbing with him, you realize you aren’t going anywhere.

You wheep and hoarsely beg as he carries you into the wooded area that seems to pocket into another place.

You realize later that it was a path to the radio tower.

There’s a wooden door that leads to his own personal “home” in that tower.

And inside, I’d expect it’s quite nice.

Greenery everywhere, plants and/or herbs hanging from the ceiling and a cozy woodstove. Lovely flowers and pretty trees surrounding the outside, blocking the view of the horrors that hell had naturally.

A earthy, modest but very comfortable and exquisite environment and cottage style house with at least one library on hand.

But he can take all this beauty away quite easily, so don’t forget or step out of line. The view is a luxury he gives based on your behavior; do not tread lightly.

Now, he’s very commanding and strict with his darling, often times dictating what they eat and wear, bossing them around and physically moving them to where he wants.

• “My little doe, you were simply taking too much time to get to me, I was just helping you along.”

• “Oh darling, don’t you know I’m doing this for your own good? Don’t cry, come here: give me a kiss.”

• “No no, little doe. It’s best if you rest right now. Ah, yes, I can see you don’t want to sleep. How about I read to you or turn the radio on, hm?”

But he’s also super old timey and you would immediately be considered his spouse, and he would pamper and treat you with such respect (at least as much as he could)

If he found out you liked dolls or soft toys, well he’d be all over that and try to use it to his advantage.

I feel like it would be a rag doll copy of himself or a porcelain/ball jointed doll (dressed in 1920-1950 attire) as a Victorian styled Queen or what not.

• “You seem so lonely honey bun, so I picked you up something nice. Hopefully it will warm you a little when you think of me.”

• “I can see you fiddle with your hands a lot, mi amor. Here, have a doll to dress and play with for when your pretty hands need a break from the books.”

• “Oh my, it seems a nap is in order for your crankiness. Where is your toy? It’s better for you to have something to sleep with while I’m doing the broadcast.”

But he wouldn’t have bought it for you, oh no, because the only thing he buys you is the most pristine art supplies and most flattering jewelry and clothes —

— he’d have made this himself for you, from his own power.

And he’d use it to keep an eye on you no matter where you happened to be.

Needed a moment alone? Not without the doll he gave you.

Was hiding from punishment? Not without the doll.

If you left it somewhere in a vain attempt for distance, you’d find it on your person the second you reached in your bag or turned around.

And when Alastor found out you left it? He’d be livid.

But you wouldn’t know he was mad by his face, only his voice and the static crackle in the background.

• “Don’t you ever leave that doll again sweetheart. Do you understand me?”

• “This is how I protect you, darling. It’s best for everyone if you follow direction.”

• “Now honey, you don’t want to lose your privilege to wander around the hotel and mingle with the others, do you? Then you best keep that doll close, hm?”

If you possibly took a liking to the doll he gave you, well..

His heart might soar, he won’t lie

How cute and innocent you were, so completely unaware of the horrors he possesses — the doll possesses — if you step out of line

It’s something he really loves about you; you trust him (mostly bc you have to)

And if you took up sewing to make outfits for the doll?? He’d be so over the moon and even conjure up a little wardrobe for them if enough clothes are made.

And your drawings??? Oh don’t even get me started

too late I did it myself here I go

He would parade you around like you were the messiah of the demonic art world

It didn’t matter if you or anyone else thought you were good

You like doing it? Hes gonna over indulge you.

You drew something just for him???

Then it’s getting a golden frame and you’re getting the radio host fame.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch your sketchbook. He’d actually kill anyone who destroys any piece of your work.

He always coos over you, he’s literally obsessed with you.

Admires you while your drawing like you are the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Always begs to see your drawings.

Does everything in his power to help you with inspiration or getting out of art block.

Hangs up his favorite pieces you’ve done around the hotel and talks you up to everyone.

• “My my, who would have guessed my little doe was so full of talent? Ah-ha, well me, of course!”

• “Oh yes, they’re nothing short of extraordinary and excel in everything they attempt. It’s absolutely magnificent.”

• “Quite the looker, aren’t they? It’s no wonder I fell so hard, they made this old withering heart beat once more.”

NOW LETS ADDRESS THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM:

What if you broke a rule? Either accidental or on purpose?

*rubs palms together deviously*

I mean it’s hell, so it’s not like you could actually die and he’d permanently lose you, but I could see him considering killing, traumatizing and horrifying you to make a point for when you came back. If you broke the rule on purpose or left the hotel without a damn good reason or asking him, I definitely think he’d ponder on it.

But I honestly don’t know if he’d be able to go that far if he’s to the point that he’s fallen for you.

I definitely think he’d be the kind to chain you away for a bit and ignore you for a while after really scaring you though, having only come in when you cry out for him or need to be attended.

He’d be condescending and emotionally manipulating for sure.

• “Well dear, we wouldn’t be in this predicament if you would have just listened and been good, hm?”

• “No no, you can’t come downstairs. I told you this time out is for two weeks. It’s been only two days darling.”

•“Now that’s not the way one of such class as ourselves behave. Shush your crying, my sweet.”

He wouldn’t tolerate a darling openly defying him, he’d put you over his knee and bruise your behind so quick and wouldn’t think twice.

And getting off punishments easy? Nah.

Good behavior or not, you’re gonna be going through the whole thing every single time. He won’t let you have even an ounce of wiggle room on that.

Your bottom stings after only thirty spanks? He isn’t stopping. He said 50 and he meant it, so buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long ride.

You don’t want to finish your plate? Well that’s a nice opinion, quite cute! .. but he doesn’t recall asking you what you wanted, so eat up ~

You aren’t tired? Well, allow him the pleasure of wearing you out and soothing you to slumber.

I think he’d allow the darling to cling to him though, that’s the kind of yandere I see him as. He’d maybe mock you a little at first and seem patronizing but all in all, he finds the need to touch him endearing and he does become fond of it.

I think he’d make you dependent on it, really. He’d always encourage you to cuddle up to him, always making sure you sit or stand directly next to him and that’s he’s always got his arm around you or you hanging onto his own.

He’d be tolerant of your crying. I think he’d find you cute while in distress, so that would be his favorite time to hold you tight. He’d caress your tearstreaks and kiss away the droplets.

•“Sweet sugar plum, you’ve been so emotional lately.”

• “Pretty crybaby, what can I do to make you feel better? Come now, there must be something your husband can whip up for you.”

“Oh, my poor, darling y/n..” he’d tsk, stroking the side of your face and nuzzling noses, “don’t cry, hush now, it’s alright, your faithful and devoted protector is here.”

#yandere #yandere!Alastor #Hazbin Hotel improper headcannons #my brainrot #the radio demon #yandere alastor x reader #I’m tired #gender neutral reader #unhealthy relationships #I do not condone this behavior IRL #Hazbin hotel #Alastor #trigger warning

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