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hoaxriot · 3 months

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CAUSE YOU WEREN’T MINE TO LOSE

pairings. james potter x fem!reader.

summary. every year james went away to hogwarts while you went to a different wizard school, but every summer it was you two. until he brought home a girl.

summer was finally here, you were back home and the air was crisp, the warmth was just right. one thing was different but you didn’t know it yet. your mother yelled for you to remember dinner with the potter’s, which of course you already knew.

getting in the shower washing off the smell of your school and getting ready quickly since you arrived home later than usually. your mom yelled for you from downstairs, you groaned as you looked for clothes in your closet since, most were still in your bags.

once you did, you quickly changed and made your way downstairs.

“took you long.” your father said in a joking tone, you smiled at him following your mom out the door and across the street. since the two of your families knew each other since before you were born, your mother walked into the house without knocking. she held a bouquet of flowers as she yelled for euphemia making her yell back where she was in the living room. there was more commotion then usual making you confused.

the three of you made your way into the room where many people were sitted, you noticed sirius, remus, and peter sitting on the floor. then you noticed james sitting beside a red head, very close causing a pit in your stomach to form. more girls sitting around the floor.

usually, when sirius saw you he would hug you but he didn’t which made you even more nervous.

“i’ve met these boy’s but whose this lovely girl?” your mom questions looking at the girl, at her words you look towards james who was now avoiding looking into your eyes, usually when you walked into the door he jumped right up and hugged you.

your eyes snapped away when the redhead began to speak, “i’m lily, lovely to meet you!” she looked at all of you, you tried your best to smile but it wasn’t true. sirius was staring at you, the two of you became very close so you told him about you and james, he now regrets not sending you a letter at the true heartbreak on your face. he knew he should’ve but he was so torn between the two of you.

euphemia always went all out with the get togethers, but today was different. all of james’ friends were here, even lily’s since this year they had become a full group now that the two groups had come together because lily and james were dating.

she called everyone to follow her into the backyard where a long table was sitting in the grass, decorations all over the table. you follow your parents, usually sitting by james and the others but it was different. you watched as all of his friends fell into a group sitting by each other, even sitting far away from one another they were still having conversations.

this was the first time you felt out of place at the potters.

lunch went by slow for you, it felt like hours had passed but only one had. finally, everyone dispersed, your mother and father kissed your head as they followed the other parents, you quickly walked away towards the field in their backyard full of flowers where you and james had spent times together.

your throat had suddenly felt tight and an all too well feeling in your eyes, luckily everyone was too focused on whatever to come to you so letting the tears fall you took a deep breath with your eyes closed, head tilting back just a little to feel the summer breeze hit your rosy cheeks.

too focused on your thoughts, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. you quietly gasped seeing someone from the corner of your eye, scared that it was james but relieved to see sirius. he sadly smiled at you.

“when?” you simply questioned, he knew. “beginning of this year, she started to like him after years of him chasing after her.” he explained, your eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.

you let out a scoff with a little laugh, “chasing after her?” sirius winced, he was so beyond fucked, james never spoke about lily when he was on break because he was so focused on you.

feeling the sun peak through your curtains you opened your eyes fully opened, you smiled seeing james sleeping, he was snoring softly. he was beyond beautiful at any time of the day. you brought a hand to his face softly brushing the curls off of his face. he hummed in content at the feeling of your hands.

“morning,” he groggily spoke, you absolutely melted at his morning voice. “morning.” you replied. the sheets were tangled in between you as he tightened his hands around your waist bringing you closer to him, in-fact bringing you to lay on top of him. you lightly laughed as he kissed your neck.

“all these years he came home on break, sneaking out of his own house to come into my room. he went back to school and chased her?” gods, you wanted to hate her but she was everything, she was sweet and beautiful. he wanted to hug you hearing your voice crack as you spoke.

you laughed at yourself, cancelling so many plans your friends had invited to you over breaks for him, stupid james potter.

letting out a breath as you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “i’m so stupid.” you muttered, sirius heard you making him sigh. you turned around and began to walk away. he called your name as he followed you around the house, you did not want to face your parents or his. sirius calling your name caught everyone’s attention. they all watched as sirius followed you, disappearing around the house. james quickly followed leaving everyone making lily confused, leaving everyone confused on what happened.

sirius heard james so he stopped and let him follow you out of the yard.

he continued to call your name but you continued to walk away from him, he finally caught up to you grabbing your wrist.

“baby—“

“do not call me that!” you yelled at him yanking your wrist from his grip, “you do not get to call me that anymore.” the tears kept falling, there was no stopping that. james had tears in his eyes, it was a mess.

“please, just listen to me.” he begged, you scoffed. “no you listen to me, you chased after her for years!” realization struck him, sirius slipped and told you.

“you- what the hell was i too you, james?” desperation filled your voice, “i love you! an— and. god!” you groaned turning your head away. “i was never yours, but you were mine. all the time. while i was away, i was yours— writing to you, thinking about you, calling you, everything! while you were chasing her!” your voice rose in anger.

james had finally let the tears fall, he never knew it would ever come to this. you guys had been best friends since birth, literally. two weeks after you were born, he was. sharing birthdays growing up because the two of you wanted to share it. then he fell in love with you, and you fell in love with him.

now everything was crushed, your friendship and your relationship, he was losing you— he could see it in your eyes.

“i am so stupid.” whispering to yourself, again. luckily he didn’t hear you.

“just, enjoy your friends, james.” you spoke quietly as you turned away and james was so heartbroken he let you walk away, he watched you walk up the stairs to your porch and disappear into your home.

you immediately walked up your stairs and fell onto your bed, sobbing. not even ten minutes had passed when your mother realized you were gone, and she went back home to find you. she walked up the stairs quickly seeing your door open and the sounds of your sobs, her shoulders sunk seeing her daughter like this.

“sweetie.” she whispered sitting on your bed putting her hand on your shoulder.

“i thought he loved me back.” you spoke between sobs, you knew she knew because she was your mom. even though you didn’t tell her this one thing, she knew. the nights he snuck into your room or watching the two of you from the potters kitchen window.

“oh, my sweet girl.” she slid her shoes off and wrapped her arms around you letting you cry. soon enough, your father came home sensing something was wrong when his wife didn’t come home, he saw the two of you but let you be.

almost an hour had pass when the tears stopped, your mom wiped your cheeks and kissed it. “go take a warm bath and i’ll cook your favorite dinner.” she smiled as her hands were on your face, nodding softly the two of you got off of your bed.

later that night, you laid in your bed thinking.

james was never yours to lose.

#harry potter #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x reader #sirius black #marauders era #marauders #remus lupin #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #marauder era #james potter x oc

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sunniskyies · 4 months

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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a child of Demeter, have powers that unfortunately go out of control whenever emotions are involved. And don’t think Percy doesn’t notice !! 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x Demeter!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bad grammar today 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of fluff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: I’m back at it again !! This was supposed to be a blurb, but ofc I got carried away. Pffsh

You're sitting on the edge of the lake, your fingers aimlessly running through the water. The gentle breeze plays with your hair, sending strands dancing over your face.

Under the water, you're manipulating native algae to creep over the pebbles. As the child of Demeter -and a head councillor no less- it's your responsibility to keep the plants at camp in good health. And even though you're off-duty right now, you find yourself tending to them.

You almost don't notice when someone approaches you from behind.

"Hey there, Petals," a familiar voice says.

You whip around to see Percy's sun-kissed face grinning at you. Your heart flutters at the sight.

"Hey Perce," you try to say, but it comes out more like a squeak. This just makes Percy's smirk widen.

Gaze suddenly averted from yours, Percy's eyebrows raise in surprise. You turn back to the lake to see what he's looking at. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realise that around your fingers, half a dozen water lily buds have sprouted in the water.

You quickly pull your hand out, hoping that Percy isn't thinking about what a loser you are. You're used to your powers manifesting unexpectedly, but gods it's embarrassing when it calls you out in front of people.

You can't bring yourself to look at him, eyes averted even when he sits down right next to you. You busy yourself by clearing the lilies, causing them to brown and wither beneath your touch.

"Stop that, they look lovely," Percy interjects, quickly snatching the last remaining bud from your murderous grasp. He holds it delicately, stripping the leaf from the long stem.

You're still avoiding him, face flushed pink. So Percy rests a fingertip beneath your chin and turns you himself. His hands are tough and calloused from years of sword fighting, but he feels warm and gentle when he touches you.

With a lopsided smile, he slips the bud behind your ear. His fingers brush your temple on the way, and to your absolute horror, the bud blooms into a full white lotus.

"Oh my gods," you groan, burying your red face in your arms. You hear Percy laugh, a gentle thing that sounds like a breath of wind.

You're pretty sure everybody at Camp knows you have a massive crush on the black-haired boy. Unfortunately for you, unlike other girls, you don't have the luxury of hiding your feelings. You have little to no grasp on what your magic chooses to do when exposed to your stupid feelings. Especially not when Percy Jackson is involved.

You must be the most pitiful camp councillor Camp Half-Blood has ever seen.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice now so, so close to your ear. "It's just a flower."

You peek up at him, hoping your pupils aren't too dilated. "Yeah, and magic that blossoms every time I do anything," you mumble. Percy gives you the sweetest, most understanding smile known to man. You can't believe he hasn't run away in repulsion yet.

"I think it's cute," he laughs affectionately.

Your mind flashes back to a few weeks ago. You and a large group of campers were sparring on the large grass field. When Percy stepped forward for his turn and you were met face-to-face, the shorn grass around your feet sprung up into long, grassy seed heads. The entire field had turned into a paddock in seconds, so tall it obscured your mortified expression. But while the rest of the campers were laughing mercilessly, Percy's intent gaze through the grass-heads was soft and considerate.

Your breath catches at the identical look in his eyes now, deep and green and all-encompassing. He drops it for a second, looking down to gently grasp one of your hands. He looks at it for a moment, soft curiosity etched on his face as he traces circles onto your palm and wrist.

In the wake of his finger's touch, blossom petals sprout up from your skin. He smiles at the reaction.

"It's true then?" He hums, syrupy eyes meeting yours as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You know that vines have started growing throughout your hair, petals and leaves adorning your locks until your hair resembles that of a willow tree's canopy.

"Is it?" He murmurs when you fail to answer, spare hand reaching up to brush a curtain of willow leaves from your face. Hesitant doe eyes look back at him.

You still don't respond, words stuck like sap in your throat. Percy lets out another breathy laugh.

"You do know that you're not the only one with uncontrollable powers, right?" He grins. Then his hand is back on your face, this time cupping your cheek. He gently turns you head to stare out at the lake.

Where the water was calm and still minutes earlier, the lake's edge now laps eagerly at both of your feet. Above you, a storm has rolled in. Soft droplets have begun to speckle your skin, and you realise with caught breath that they feel like warm kisses.

You look back at him, his gaze having never left you. "Is this you?" You breathe.

Percy shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes and no. I can't really help it," he grins sheepishly. "Water tends to respond to me, whether I want it to or not."

You can't help but laugh, your worries and embarrassment melting. That sure sounds familiar.

The rain continues to fall, surrounding the two of you in a gentle mist before growing into a steady patter. The storm's growth is mimicked in his eyes, unidentifiable emotions swelling in the green depths.

Percy leans closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. "You know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think our powers are trying to tell us something."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze. The vines in your hair grow longer, rooting you in place and winding tendrils around the places where Percy holds you. He doesn't pull away though, instead putting his other hand around your neck and letting the foliage tie you to him.

He doesn't look at this curse like others do, instead leaning into it with fascination. At this moment, you realise that maybe your powers aren't a curse after all. They're a part of who you are, just like the water that bends to Percy's touch.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you wonder if Percy can feel it through the vines that tether you together. You comforted by the knowledge that Percy’s heart must be doing the same thing anyway, as the lake is far from quiet now, the waves rolling in strong and fast. You’re both surrounded by the churning water, but you can't tear your eyes away from each other. You finally distinguish the emotion in his eyes, as you recognize the hunger in yourself as well.

Unable to wait any longer, Percy finally closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours gently but so eagerly. His thumb drowsily pulls at your lips, teasing your mouth open. You lean into his attention for once, hands curling around his dark hair.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against you, barely pausing before kissing you again.

You remained locked in a tight embrace for only the Gods to see, your bodies drenched and overgrown. And around you in the passionate water, hundreds upon hundreds of water lilies have sprouted.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

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youryurigoddess · 2 months

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Gabriel’s (missing) cross

Let’s put everything we know about that spooky statue of the Archangel Gabriel in one thread to make the conversation about its possible meaning as a Good Omens 3 clue more structured. Starting off with the relevant part of the official commentary from X-Ray:

Douglas Mackinnon got one thing wrong in his part of the interview — Gabriel wasn’t carved by “some guy in Italy,” but a British sculptor and prop maker David Field working as a part of the team at 3DEye in London.

Technically speaking, it’s a gorgeous piece of hand-carved expanded polystyrene with a clay sculpted head on top of it — even if the Archangel’s smug likeness isn’t that pleasant to look at, all things considered. The scenic artists from 3DEye made it look like stone afterwards.

The body itself took ten days to sculpt and is a faithful copy of the famous statue on Ponte Sant'Angelo in Rome called Angel with the Cross by Ercole Ferrata. It stands on the inscription “Cuius principatus super humerum eius” (“Whose government shall be upon His shoulder”, Isaiah 9:16), and this quote makes much more sense for Gabriel than the cross in his hands. The usual iconography of the Archangel uses a trumpet or a white lily instead.

Ponte Sant'Angelo was originally used to expose the heads of those sentenced to death — each of the angelic statues on it carry Arma Christi, the Instruments of the Passion. Like the Second Coming, what seems to be a hopeful message to the Chosen Ones can also be a warning for the others.

The statue of Gabriel, first shown in full in the cemetery scene of the Good Omens 2 title sequence, reappears at the very end as a part of the bridge leading to the biggest Easter egg — at least according to Peter Anderson, the animator behind it — which is the lift in the background, implying how we’re getting closer towards the Second Coming. Notice how the cross broke down in half at some point between these two scenes!

And it disappears in the plot as well: Gabriel’s memory depicts it only from his point of view, with the camera deliberately moving slightly to the right and stopping at his eye level. The centered, establishing shots show the statue with empty hands as a bookend.

I believe that this cross is meant to serve as a foreshadowing, a reminder of the absolution of sins and eternal life through Christ’s sacrifice and Second Coming. We see it only through Gabriel and Aziraphale’s eyes — when Beelzebub looks at the statue, the cross is not there.

As seen in the BTS photos and videos, it’s not an editing error, but a deliberate positioning of the physical props on set. The cross was clearly meant to be a removable part of the statue and displayed in a specific way to convey a message to the audience.

The question remains: is it a reassurance, something to look forward to, or maybe rather a warning?

Not helpfully at all, the traditional use of angelic imagery in Christian cemeteries matches both interpretations.

#everything has a meaning #the good omens crew is unhinged #good omens props #archangel fucking gabriel #gabriel’s statue #good omens #good omens meta #yuri is doing her thing

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hayisins · 7 months

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# — oral ! 🕊️

how : alhaitham, wriothesley, cyno, diluc, + zhongli give head !

disclaimers : afab!reader + no specific pronouns. mentions of a skirt in cyno’s ! zhongli has dragon features ! mndi ! 18+ ONLY ! 🍓

#001 — ALHAITHAM !

his hands are gentle and delicate. like a wild animal he stares at its prey. alhaitham is fixed between your knees, watching your body as if it was some kind of experiment.

finally he stops staring, leaning right in close to your heat. again he stares but this time it’s not a careful study, no, he’s letting his mind run rampant with impure desires.

your grinding hips and needy whines fall upon deaf ears. alhaitham is not listening. slowly his tongue pokes out, gently using the tip of it to graze your clit. the gesture is so gentle it makes you shiver. he takes his time, slowly and calculated he devours you whole. ♡

— “i will take my time with you . . . just be patient, okay ?”

#002 — WRIOTHESLEY !

the duke is rough. every action he has is always full of greed. he can’t take his time, it might kill him if he does. so it’s no surprise he has you pressed against the closest wall.

it’s absolutely no surprise that inbetween ravenous kisses and clashing teeth, wriothesleys hands would be tugging your bottoms down past your knees. at this rate he didn’t care who saw you like this.

he will kiss his way down, leaving a plethora of bite marks and hickeys along the way. now you’re able to look down and see your adoring partner eagerly spreading your thighs and sucking happily on your clit, shooting you a cheeky wink in the process. ♡

— “i don’t care who sees, i want to see you break darling.”

#003 — CYNO !

it’s always the quiet ones you gotta look out for. the general mahamatra was more than skilled in keeping such a calm composure even when in a situation just like the one you’ve put him in.

you’re in the tavern, happily drinking and feasting with friends !! however no one knows that cyno’s hand has slowly creeped its way up the incredibly small skirt you decided to wear. for five minutes now his hand was rubbing lazy little circles when you needed him the most.

if there was one thing cyno was incredible at ? it’s eating you out into next week. the mahamatra was not only skilled in combat but also with his tongue. one by one more people started to leave. a perfect enough distraction for a very hard cyno to drag you to the restaurants bathroom to reward your patience. ♡

— “you did so well waiting for me . . . you’ll be compensated cumpletely . . get it because — sorry.”

#004 — DILUC !

he melts. it’s as if a lifetime of stress slides right off his shoulders when he’s in your presence. he takes his time, kissing from your lips right down to your inner thighs. fiery red eyes never leave your expression.

diluc is rather quiet during sex — unless he’s eating you out. diluc truly gets into what he’s doing to you. he prefers to do it in the morning the best.

occasionally he wakes you up by gently kissing your thighs all the way to the softness that is your folds. his eyes hood and his mind swims in an endless sea of lust as he slowly wakes you up with his gentle kitten licking. ♡

— “good morning firefly . . . allow me to finish here and then we’ll get breakfast, yes?”

#005 — ZHONGLI !

for a centuries old retired god zhongli is rather clueless in his ministrations. every way he touches you is like learning to read for the first time. gold eyes carefully watch and observe each and every gasp, whine, bite of the lip — you name it. he was watching.

the way you call out to him does a number on the god complex he tries so hard to deny. thanks to zhongli being an ancient dragon he also had a stunning tongue.

so here he has you in a field of glaze lilys, marking your body in light possessive geo markings you gasp at the all too familiar feeling of zhongli’s forked tongue working to gently flick against both sides of your clit. a satisfied hum leaves his mouth the more you scream and beg for release.

— “your body . . it belongs to me. your god. are we clear little lamb?”

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elixrr · 4 months

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“I might be in love with you.”

How they realized they were in love.

ft. Xiao, Wanderer

Xiao：

When you held him amidst his karma.

The most interesting part of the tale? You weren't there. But he saw you. Even through the fights with himself and the surrounding darkness, he saw you— the way your sleeves fell loose on your shoulders, the way your feet glided along a garden of lilies and the way the silk and linen of your clothes weaved around your body. Even when he felt his body shatter in vigorous pain, Xiao saw the luminous glow of the moonlight reflecting off of your skin. The scenery of the dark, star-filled sky with the vibrant glaze lilies surrounding you had crafted such a beautiful picture in Xiao's head that, when he snapped back to reality, he could no longer feel the hurt. There was simply you. He couldn't see you, but he thought of you, and, even with his loyalty to Rex Lapis, he still smiled, thanking you for saving him from his karmic outburst.

But, wait a minute.

You weren't even there? How did you save him? Xiao pondered back on the image he created in his mind. It definitely wasn't something he saw, and it definitely isn't something happening now. It is night, but it is far too dark. The vibrancy of the moonlight is not present, and the bright, shining stars are instead clouded by fog and translucent mist. He definitely couldn't picture you outside right now, especially at this hour.

Hold on. What if you really were out? He is on Wuwang Hill, so of course it's foggy. What if it was brighter for you? What if the moonlight found its way to you instead?

What if that vision of you was real?

Without a second thought or consideration for his duties, he teleported to the balcony of Wangshu Inn, where he could have the possibility of seeing you, and indeed, he did see you. He teleported to a tree that stood by you, leaning on it. The remaining pain of the karma seemed to whisk away, yet his heart beat hastened. Something about how you brushed your finger against the bulb of a sweet flower made him smile.

“Xiao?” You whispered, and he swore he could feel the sun rioting the moon and rising amidst the darkness of the night.

“You called?”

“Oh!” You nearly jumped out of your skin. “That was unexpected. You actually came!”

“Of course I did. I made a promise to you, and I will honor it.”

A smile fell upon your face, and Xiao froze in place.

“Especially because it's me, I presume?”

“Wh—” Roses blossomed on his cheeks, and his heart exploded into petals.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to walk home with me? I haven't seen you in a while, so maybe we could catch up?”

“Uh–m, I— Sure. That would be... Quite nice.”

“Oh, wow, you actually said yes!” You cheered, and Xiao's eyes glistened. It was perfect, this moment, because the clouds dispersed, and the stars and moon finally found themselves visible, shining through the clouds. You've conquered the spotlight tonight, and you've conquered Xiao's world, even if he couldn't tell.

But, you extended your hand to Xiao. This was just like his illustration of you from earlier, but he was now included. The moonlight reflected on your skin, your clothes weaved magically across your body, and surrounding the two of you were a field of flowers.

Xiao, without much thinking, grasped your hand tight, and you held it, too.

He felt a bloom in his heart, and the world around him brightened. Even as you were talking, he couldn’t pay attention to a word you said. You were graceful, and he felt the strangeness in the way your fingers interlocked with his.

You weren't holding him, really, but you held him somehow. In fact, you stole him away from the old world he lived in, introducing him to something new, something unique.

And in that moment, somewhere in the combination of his mind and heart swelled, sweeping in to tell him and make him realize that he was in love.

That he was in love with you.

Wanderer：

When you fell ill for the sake of him.

Kuni remembers it. His birthday came soon, and because it never snowed in Sumeru, the flowers still found themselves vibrant. Though, something in him found you to be more colorful and much more appealing to look at than a few colored petals and a stem, yet he could never bring himself to admit it; his pride would shatter and you would become giddy, and— if there was finally a heart to replace his hollow body— he would feel a twinge in his chest and an ache in the hollow shell of himself. Kuni figures that, because he has no heart, he is therefore heartless, meaning that this twinge in his chest can not be love like Nahida had suggested time and time again. Rather, this ache symbolized a feel of annoyance. After all, if he did have a heart, how would he be able to mercilessly kill so many people and commit so many sins?

Yet, he would catch you again and again, plucking the most beautiful, rare, and exotic flowers in Sumeru. Many of which were far too dangerous to even obtain, and that was something he realized far too late. He trusted you slightly. Actually, he didn't trust you. Kuni trusted Tighnari because you have consulted the expert many times about the flowers you picked.

But, one day, you fell ill. It wasn't due to the flowers or anything similar, but due to the weather. Kuni had been coincidentally passing by for a research project, and he stumbled upon you by a hillside, unconscious, bleeding, and sickly. You were lucky enough to forget your basket of flowers, meaning you hadn't lost any of your previously collected ones, but you were still quite unlucky. It was pouring, and atop a hill was a beautiful kalpalata lotus flower. It wasn't a terrible walk, except you were sick, and you ended up slipping and falling to what could've been your doom.

The moment Kuni saw you, he paid no mind to the flowers, nor did he care at all about his research. He needed to help you, and he, as quickly as he could, flew you over to Gandharva Ville, where he almost screamed for forest rangers to come and help you.

As you laid on the bed unconscious, Kuni stayed with you. He never left your side once.

And then you woke up.

“...What?” The pain in your head wrung from side to side, front and back. Your nose was significantly stuffier. Kuni, happy and terrified, immediately rushed over to you.

“Idiot! What were you doing out there?” He yelled, holding back the urge to punch himself for not finding you sooner, “You could've died from that sort'a height!”

“Sir, please, lower your voice. Y/N's healing process could falter if you don't shut up.” Tighnari hissed, and the two glared at each other.

“Fine, sorry. But still, what were you thinking? My birthday or whatever isn't that big a deal, and it's really not worth your damn life.” Kuni sat down on the stool next to the bed, and you looked down at the provided blankets.

“I mean, I'm not dead,” you conjure up a smile and hold in a cough, “but yeah. That was sort of stupid, but it would've been worth it if I did get you the flower.”

“What? You're mentally insane.”

“I could be.”

“That's— That's so stupid!” Why do all of that... for me? Kuni feels his chest ache again.

“Oh, it was. But hey, I'm really stupid when it comes to you.”

“What?” Kuni's eyes furrow, and Tighnari almost slams his head into the desk after hearing that.

“I mean that I'm literally stupid for you. Why else would I leave and get flowers when it's raining and when I'm sick?”

Something clicks in Kuni's head. He saw some of his peers in class talk about this phrase and suddenly connect it to some girl who was in love with a guy and...

Wait.

“I'm leaving. I'll be back— you'd better be conscious!”

“I can't guarantee that, but I'll try.”

Kuni leaves the room, frustrated. Nahida has said that he likes you, his peers have said the same thing, and maybe...

“I'm literally stupid for you.”

“That idiot..” He smiles, looking through the window to see you talking to Tighnari, who appears to be scolding you for being so careless with your health. Kuni holds in a chuckle and turns around. His ache resurfaces in his chest, and he grips the part of his top that covers his 'heart'.

Maybe, just maybe—

“I'm making a bouqet for you on your birthday!”

—maybe he is in love with you.

y/n's real name is robloxnation3000 /j

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scuderiahoney · 2 months

Text

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2

hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words

warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.

You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.

He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.

You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.

Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.

By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.

Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.

When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.

You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.

“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.

You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.

“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”

Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”

You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.

“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”

He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.

“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”

He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.

An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.

You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.

“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”

He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.

You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.

They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.

“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.

“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.

Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.

“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.

“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”

…..

Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.

In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.

Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.

Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.

“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.

You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.

“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“

He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.

“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“

Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.

Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.

“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”

Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.

“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”

Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.

The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“

In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.

“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.

He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.

He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.

He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“

“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.

“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.

You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.

Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.

The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.

“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.

Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”

You turn to look at him. “Why?”

He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”

You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”

“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.

“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”

You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”

Oscar laughs. “I know.”

You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.

“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.

He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“

You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.

“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”

He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.

“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”

Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.

“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”

Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”

Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.

…..

The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”

You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.

“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.

You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”

“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”

“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”

You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.

You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.

“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.

He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“

You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.

“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”

You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”

He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”

You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”

He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.

Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”

Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”

Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.

“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”

He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”

Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.

Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”

You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”

Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”

Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”

Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”

You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.

“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“

“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”

More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.

Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.

“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”

You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”

He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”

You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”

He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.

He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.

…..

In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.

You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.

He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.

“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.

“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”

You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”

His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”

You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.

“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”

Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”

You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.

Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”

Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”

“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.

You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”

You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.

Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”

Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.

You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.

Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main

crossed out blogs are ones i was unable to tag!!

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wednesdaynn · 2 months

Text

birthday special

A/N: HI! omg it's my birthday and i thought i'd write a little special something from myself to you, as i'll be spending my birthday alone. So here is a little special poly!marauders smutty fic to make myself happy and not dread this awful day.

i also got a cake with the faces of multiple celebrities i love, including the OG fancasts... so

not edited, not even double checked or rewritten, i did this in 3 days and expected it to only be around 2000 words, so it might be awfull, dont blame me

This is also uploaded 9 hours after scheduled time but shhh

word count: 4388

warnings: reader who feels left out and sad on her birthday/ foursome, oral sex, penatrative sex, awkward positions and understanding lovers, dirty talk, slight overwhelming feelings so a bit of crying.

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

It's eerily quiet in the great hall. lunch time had just passed and most of the students were spending their time outside in the great fields outside of the castle. Spring break was coming to an end and most of ‘em filled their last couple of free days soaking up the sunlight outside, a rare occurrence in scotland. except for your friends, who had been all over the place since that morning. you suppose you had been slightly jealous towards them. Every time it was someone's birthday they made sure to plan something that would interest the birthday person.

For Lily's birthday, you had spent the evening outside after dark playing in the snow and staying up all night in the boys dorm, drinking wine and gossiping. Remus' birthday was perfect, it had fallen on a sunday, giving you guys the entire day to do nothing except to annoy Remus, plan pranks and sneak into the kitchen to eat until you guys couldn’t . For james’ you guys had planned an entire party that lasted through all the night.

But this morning you woke up to everyone rushing around. You had thought that because it was spring break there would be a lot of time to hang out with the lot, but to your surprise, you got a kiss on the cheek from your girl friends, and your boyfriends had to get up for quidditch practice early and stayed until lunch. They wished you a happy birthday and let you unpack your presents at the breakfast table. but the celebrations were soon pushed aside for more important tasks, such as studying.

since breakfast you hadn’t seen anyone, the first hour after breakfast spent in the common room reading a book, you had soon grown bored. you went to the library to study but found it to be too crowded with most of the students cramming for their latest exams. the hot weather tearing them down. and right before lunch you headed outside to join Hagrid in feeding the latest creature he had brought home with him. both of you working in silence.

But lunch rolled around and you hadn't seen any of your friends. When you walked into the great hall, your boyfriends were just on their way to return to the dorms to take a long awaited shower, while Remus and Peter joined them to finish the last part of their essay.

And you know there was an open invitation to join them. they always made sure to let you know you are welcome there, even Peter had let you know he enjoys your company, more than the boys he had said. but you didn’t want to intrude on their tasks. you already felt like you were overreacting and the boys knew you too well. you knew they’d worry about you and set their own things aside to make sure you’re okay, but you didn’t want them to do that, feeling like a burden.

you push yourself up from the table and swing your legs over the bench. with no idea what to do the rest of the day you make your way back up to your room, checking the last couple of assignments off of your to-do list, watering the plants, stoking the fire in the room when the evening chill started to roll around and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. you had picked up your book again, but to no avail. you were bored, extremely. and you don’t hold it against your friends, knowing that they have things to do as well since classes are starting soon again. but you had spent the entire spring break hanging out almost every day, and the one day that was important to you, they couldn’t.

you felt left behind. turning around one more time on your bed, you let out a sigh of annoyance. Another birthday spent doing nothing, another birthday spent alone, another birthday spent depressed. you had learned your lesson the past couple of years not expecting much. but it was your last year at Hogwarts, your last year spent with friends. you had hoped this year would be different. not a quick ‘happy birthday, and we’ll see you again tonight when we are already half asleep.’

Was it unfair to think that way? yes, but you couldn’t care at the moment. you were feeling lonely and bored. but you picked yourself up enough to at least head to dinner, where you were greeted with all of your friends sitting together, laughing and having fun. you walked over to Remus and sat beside him quietly, giving him a tight lipped smile while he kissed you on your temple and put his hand on your thigh.

The entirety of dinner had been spent in silence while your friends talked. they had tried to get you to join the conversation, but your energy had been drained from the constant worrying the entire day. the hand on your thigh had left when Remus had to start eating, but the second he was done it was around your waist pulling you in closer.

"You wanna talk?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath a comfort on your neck. you looked up at him and shook your head softly with a thin smile, not quite reaching your eyes. the thumb on your waist moves ever so slightly, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. Remus hymned and turned back to his friends, his hand not leaving your side.

When they finished with their meal, Remus slid his arm back and grabbed your hand to bring you along with him. you walked along with your friends, every so often listening in on their conversation. you followed them up onto the moving stairs but only raised your head when you passed the door to the gryffindor common room. Remus let out a soft chuckle, his grip on your hand getting tighter. you walked after him as he dragged you up more and more stairs.

entering the top corridor the girls giggle as they open up one of the doors to an empty classroom, and Peter walks up to you, circling around until he puts his hands in front of your eyes and covers them. you let out an annoyed sigh, but smile nonetheless. Remus leads your hand further into the room where he leaves you waiting.

you tap your foot impatiently and Peter clicks his tongue in response. you hear slight rustling in the background and Marlene and Sirius whispering, although it’s louder than they probably intend to, seeing as they are bickering about godric knows what. but the noises slowly die down and someone is back at your side again holding onto your right hand.

Peter slowly slid his hands away from your face and in front of you laid a couple of blankets with candles and a bunch of food and drinks on the floor. the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side. you look to your right seeing James and squeezing onto his hand tighter, giving him a grateful smile. He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your waist, pulling you into him.

your eyes stare in awe at the scene in front of you. your friends standing around you with a happy smile. Mary shakes out her hands and squeals and before she can contain herself, she runs over to you and envelopes both you and James in a tight hug.

“didn’t think we’d forget now, huh love?” you shake your head and she pulls back from your embrace holding your face in her hands. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” you give her a sweet smile and they both release, just far enough for your other friends to congratulate you.

pulling back from all the hugs, you all make your way down to the middle of the room, filled with sweets. sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from your friends, squished between your boyfriends, you felt slightly guilty.

you couldn’t believe you thought they were capable of forgetting, or just not wanting to celebrate your birthday. or thinking they didn’t know you well enough to know how you wanted to spend your birthday. you silently scold yourself on your mistrust towards your boys and try to focus back on the scene in front of you.

you lean into James’ embrace next to you while he puts his arm around your shoulder and try to relax into it as much as possible. “Thank you, darling,” you whisper to him. “I love it.” he just winks and holds you tighter.

The night carries on with lots of laughter while you stuff your mouths with a bunch of food and the alcohol, which you can only assume Sirius and Mary took care of. it was getting late and everyone was relatively tipsy, you all decided it was best to head up back to bed. standing up from Sirius’ lap, all of you stumbled your way back down all the stairs and into the common room, getting dirty looks from the paintings. He held onto your waist tightly as you walked up towards the boys’ dormitory.

taking off your shoes next to the door, you walk over to the fireplace in the centre of the room, stoking the fire with a spell, instantly warming the room. You watch as you see your boys make their way over to the bathroom individually. Coming out with pyjamas and brushed teeth, the padding of their socked feet towards their beds. You quickly ascend to the bathroom yourself, the stressful day had made you quite tired, and the slight state of drunkenness you were in didn’t help either.

You quickly took off your makeup and brushed out your hair and teeth. Getting out of your clothes and putting on your pyjamas. You lean your head down and take a sip of water from the faucet and make your way back to their dormitory. Getting into Remus' bed you sit cross legged on the cover.

“I’m sorry if i acted odd tonight, i loved what you guys did for me, honestly. It was the best birthday.” you say softly. Sirius's face contorts into one of confusion and he cocks his head up towards you. “What are you talking about, love?” James crosses over from his bed to yours and leans against the bedpost, his arms crossed on his chest.

“You were fine sweetheart, but if something is bothering you, you know you can always talk about it with us right?” you nod and give James a soft smile. Remus pats your thigh.

“Come’ere.” you climb up higher on the bed and throw your leg over his lap, making eye contact with your lover. He gives you a soft peck on your forehead and his thumb draws circles into your waist. You feel a dip in the mattress behind you and feel Sirius his hand brush the hair away from your neck and shoulder, leaving soft peck along the neckline of your pyjama shirt. You lean into their embrace and let out a soft sigh.

You see James get on the bed on the other side of you and look over at him. “You want us to take care of you? Or do you just want to cuddle until we fall asleep?” you’re already letting go of your inhibitions while in the hold of your boyfriends, and you know they will take care of you.

“Take care of me please.” you let out softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes. He gives you an adorning smile and a kiss on the cheek.

Remus his hands slowly slip under your shirt, rubbing the skin underneath. He spreads his hands across your back, “lean back for me sweetheart.” Sirius whispers in your ear as his lips ghost across your jawline. You look at Remus and he nods at you, he holds you as you lean back into Sirius his arms, your shoulders resting on his chest.

Sirius his hands move down towards the hem of your shirt and slowly inches it upwards. His knuckles grazing your skin, leaving behind goosebumps as his cold hands touch you. He moves until he reached the underside of your boobs.

“Can i, love?” you nod as best as you can. He lifts the shirt over your breasts and skims his hands over them, brushing along your nipples and pinching them slightly. You let out a soft sigh at the contact and look away from his movements and make eye contact with Remus who winks at you. He gestures over at James to get closer and you feel James moving on the bed as he leans down on your level.

He softly brushes some stray hairs away from your face and leans in closer kissing your lips softly. You fully let go in the embrace of your lovers doting on you and your body. The kiss quickly turns a lot more fierce and you realise in this position both of your bodies have to contort to kiss properly, so James makes his way down your body, jaw, neck, clavicle bones, and just under your shirt where Sirius pulls his hands away to give James free reign to pleasure you.

James leaves wet kisses all on your breast, and soft bites around your nipples leaving slight marks all over your chest. He finally wraps his lips around your left nipple and sucks lightly. You let out a moan at his administration and he groans around your nipples, heat flows down your body.

Sweat starts to form on your forehead and you notice how much of a strain your body is being put on being in this position. You move your hand to tug on Remus' arms.

“You like how he’s making you feel darling?” you nod but a slight grimace pulls at your face. “This position, baby, it’s slightly uncomfortable, I'm sorry.” you apologise to them. Sirius tuts behind you and moves his hands behind your shoulder blades to give you some elevation to get up properly.

Being sat back on Remus' lap, he slowly lifts you up from off of his lap and moves you next to him on the bed, the spot James was previously occupying. Sitting up on the bed you roll your shoulder around, letting the tight spots ease. You remove your shirt entirely from your body and Sirius softly pushes at your sternum, easing you onto your back, your head resting on the pillows.

James resumes his former position, leaning over you and softly kissing your chest and upwards, now finally having the space to kiss your neck and leave marks all over. Sirius, who is still sitting between your legs, ghosts his hands across your stomach and reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath the band and glides them across your waist, teasing you.

You panting beneath them, wishing they would just do more. Having 3 boyfriends and still not getting where you need them seems pathetic, but Remus just finds your frustrations comical and sweet. He puts his hand on your forehead and strokes the top of your head.

Sirius his hands finally make their way down when he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, helping you lift your hips and pulling them all the way down your legs and throwing them next to the bed. You have half a mind to tell him it’s gross to leave clothes lying on the floor, but James his lips are back on your nipples and thinking straight with them is just too difficult.

He brushes his hands on your calves, massaging them and pushing them up, leaving your knees bent. You feel Remus’ hands skim across your stomach downwards, a ghost of a touch on your mound leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Please, Rem?” with the comforting touch of Sirius’ hands on your calves, soothing you into a deeper rest, you can’t help but beg for Remus to touch you.

“Since it’s your birthday, sweetheart, I'll go easy on you.” His voice sounds rough, but he complies immediately. His middle finger and ring finger skim over your slit collecting wetness from your core and he circles your clit with them. You whine, the touch of James his lips and teeth on your nipple and Remus his light circular movements on your bundle of nerves, makes you set alight.

They’re barely doing anything, but it’s making you let out all sorts of noises you’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, but for now you couldn’t care, knowing it only eggs your partners on further.

Remus his fingers slowly move down to your hole circling it, teasing it, before finally pushing on finger in slowly. He eases it into you, taking his time, moving it in and out slowly. He watches your face intently. Making sure to catch any noise you let out, and face you make and any sign of unease. He sees your hands grab onto the blanket and takes it as his queue to add a second finger.

No matter how many times the four of you have sex, the stretch never gets any easier. You scrunch your face up slightly. “Am i good to continue, or do you need a second?” he asks, and you have half a mind to tell him to shut up and continue, but you find it so endearing how caring he still is. “You’re good to continue, baby, was just a pinch.” he nods and continues pushing into you, but this time at a much slower pace, taking extra caution.

Once he feels you’re rightly accommodated to the stretch, he starts pumping in slowly again. Taking his time dragging his fingers against your walls, your pussy quivering around his fingers. You feel every drag with his slow pace, the way he barely misses your g-spot.

Your hand curls around his wrist and he gives you a smirk. “You want more, baby?” he hymns at you. You just nod to the best of your ability. He increases his pace, only ever so slightly making you whine. You liked when he teased, but it was god damn frustrating.

Your nails scratch at his wrist and pull at his hand hoping to speed it up even more, but Remus is relentless in giving you what you want. He makes a tsks noise, hoping to tell you off, but he sees the desperate look on your face and he almost gives in.

“Be good for me baby, and you’ll get what you want.” you nodded fervently at him. James leaves a peck on your cheek and makes his way over to your lips, kissing you with renowned vigour. Tongue sliding in your mouth.

You feel the butterflies in your stomach making rounds at the slow pace, not enough to make you cum, but it leaves you teetering on the edge. Sirius moves closer to you, your legs on either side of his hips. He slowly takes off his shirt, making it a show for you. He leans down to give a kiss on your knee and pushes himself down onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in between you.

Remus makes a move to take his fingers out of you, but the hand that’s on his wrist holds him there.

“Sweetheart, let go, Sirius wants to make you feel good, don’t you wanna cum?” he asks in such an endearing voice. You moan into James’ mouth and he takes it as a queue to lean back and observe. You whine for him, wanting to feel the taste of his lips back on your once more, but he just gives you a sympathetic smile and mouths an apology at you.

Sirius begins by slowly kissing up and down the inside of your thigh. He sucks onto the skin leaving marks behind, maroons and reds splotched all over your legs, small indentations of bite marks etched into your skin. He kisses the juncture between your thigh and mound and puts his thumbs onto your vulva.

His thumbs spread your lips apart and he lets out a groan at the sight, wetness covering your entire pussy, your hole quivering from the need to cum. You feel a warmth spread over your face all the way down to your chest. He latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.

“Holy fuck.” he hums around your bundle of nerves making electricity shoot up. He agrees with your sentiment. You were on edge form cumming the whole time Remus was fingering you, and this just shoots you right over the edge. Your hands make their way downwards, grabbing onto Sirius his long hair and pulling, hard. He lets out a moan at the roughness and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You give a short warning before your orgasm takes full control. You scratch at his scalp as you pull, as Sirius pulls you through the afterwaves of your orgasm. You feel your chest going up and down, heaving.

Sirius gives a loving pat on your inner thigh before moving up again, and getting off of the bed, standing next to James on the left side of the bed. You look over at them and you feel Remus, who is still sitting beside you on the bed, take your hand and grab onto it.

James scurries out of his clothes, first his shirt, revealing his toned chest from quidditch. Then his pyjama pants. You see Sirius next to him gulp as James’ cock springs up. James his face contorts into a look of proudness. A smirk plastered onto his face. He resumes his movements and gets onto the bed taking Sirius his former position between your legs. He spits onto the palm of his hand and strokes his cock slowly.

“You ready, doll?” he asks you before inching closer. You let out a soft please and he strokes his cock up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness before slowly pressing into you. He inches in closer and closer, taking his time with you, letting you get adjusted to the stretch of his cock.

You breathe in deeply, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Taking the time to enjoy the moment and feel the intimacy with your lovers. Remus who is feeling up your breasts, encompassing them with his hands and squeezing them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his thumb.

Sirius is still by your side, holding your hand and stroking his thumb up and comforting you. His other hand pushing away fly hairs and stroking your head, creating a soft moment between you both. Looking up at him, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes and he gives you a sweet smile.

James’ hands rest on your waist, pressing into the skin there, you know he’s trying to hold himself back, but he’s trying to be considerate, your sweet boy.

“It’s okay James, please.” you give him an encouraging nod and he stares at you for a while, trying to see if you are truly okay. Finding no resistance, he pushes further in almost bottoming out inside of you. He inches out slowly and pushes back in with careful intention, making sure to make you feel every drag slide against your walls. Hearing the lewd sounds the two of you make, feeling your hole contract around him.

You both let out a sigh of relief at the sensation followed by a deep moan. He makes sure to hit you deep and slowly, dragging the sensations out. All that you feel, everything you feel coursing through your body is love. Undevoted love. Enveloped by your boyfriends, taking care of you in the way that you need.

It encompasses your very being and you feel yourself tune out everything around you except for the feeling of safety, the pleasure of their comfort. Peace. You know they see it, see how you’re feeling, or maybe they even feel it themselves, because Sirius is squeezing tighter around your hand and Remus gives intentional soft strokes around your breast. It makes you want to cry and release every emotion you’ve felt for a while. Wanting to cry out in pure ecstasy.

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us.” Remus tells you and you let a single tear drop when you squeeze your eyes shut. A silent ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth and your eyebrows scrunch together. They just hold you closer.

James picks up his pace slightly, his thumb moving to your clit, rolling circles on it with the pad of his finger, increasing the pleasure that shoots through your body.

He digs his knees deeper into the mattress, laying the top of his feet flat on the bed and shifting his hips just ever so slightly, lowering them closer to the bed and his cock drags against your walls deliciously.

James feels all his nerves being set on fire, feeling the tightening of your walls around him, the wetness making it so easy to glide in, and he feels the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you. Making you keen,

You lean your head back, releasing a loud moan. Your eyes shoot open and you grab at the bedsheet. Curling your toes and enclosing your thighs around James’ hips. You feel the familiar flare in the bottom of your stomach, the butterflies fluttering around.

“Baby? Babes, I'm gonna cum, please.” you beg of James and he keeps repeatedly hitting your g-spot, keeping up the pace as before and tightening the circles he makes around your clit. He lets out a high pitched whine and looks down at where your bodies are connected, seeing your arousal around his cock, your hole pulsing around him. The stickiness on his thumb.

Your breath hitches, Remus pinches your nipple, Sirius gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and the soft strokes of James gives you everything you need to orgasm again. You squeeze tightly around James his cock and James hisses at the constriction, cumming just after you. He pumps in just a little bit longer, riding out both of your orgasms, until both of you become too sensitive.

“You did so well darling, so beautiful for us, happy birthday baby.”

(Down below my bday cake cuz y’all need to see it)

#poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter smut #james potter x you #sirius black x reader #marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #james

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lizzieisright · 3 months

Note

I actually asked another creator this too, but if your requests ARE open, can you do a comfort fic where Abby starts dating reader and it's like her first relationship outside of a manipulative/controlling/abusive relationship? where abbys just super sweet and reassuring and just :((

I love your writing sm so!!

Palestine: what can you do

I'm ready to suffer (and I'm ready to hope)

Okay actually I saw these amazing women who are paediatric PTs on youtube and thought Abby would make an amazing paediatric PT, so this is modern au!

Tw for the mentions of abusive situations.

/-/-/-/-/-/-

When you finally leave Sandy you swear to not ever date again.

And you don’t.

You find a therapist and start spending more time with your friends again. They’re incredibly supportive of you and they don’t let you sit at home, always asking you to hang out or go somewhere. They’re eager to introduce the world back to you and it’s wonderful, but you’re exhausted. Sandy took every piece of you and it's damn hard work to gain it back, and dealing with the fear of being shamed for not having a good time when your friends put so much effort into it is very hard. It takes a lot of reminders from them to make you feel okay, but somewhere in your mind you still expect them to blow out on you. They never do.

And you start to feel like you’re in a good place now. Of course, when we feel like we’re finally free, the Universe needs us to remember how much work is still ahead of us. Your reminder comes to your work at the end of the work day on Friday with a bouquet of lilies that smell as suffocating as the person holding them.

“Hi baby.” Sandy smiles at you, but you don’t move closer than 3 feet. You want to go around her if she had a bomb in these flowers.

The good thing - you expected it. You weren’t surprised to see her here, so she lost her element of shock that would have disarmed you.

“What do you want?” You ask coldly.

“Come on baby, it’s Friday! I thought it would be a good time for us to go on a date, discuss what happened and you know, make up. I miss you.”

You clench your fists. She wants to discuss what happened - is she ready to admit her mistakes and change? Is it a sign that everything will work out this time?

No. No “this time”.

“I have plans.”

The angry furrow on Sandy's face just proves you made the right decision. The bouquet falls on the floor and she starts crying.

“I thought you loved me!” Sandy howls and your colleagues are now paying attention to the whole situation. “You have a date, don't you? Already moved on, huh? Fucking slut.”

It's humiliating, but you understand with horror that you're used to it. It's not the first time when your coworkers see Sandy in this state.

“I'm just hanging out with Niki.” You reassure Sandy because you don't want to hurt her - she is a human after all and she was always so jealous, so insecure about your loyalty. People betrayed her in the past, and you have a hard time blaming her.

“Of course, the moment I'm out of the picture Niki is there to lick your wounds! I bet she does more than just licking your wounds.”

The shame flares up and you take a breath. You slipped up. You fell for her shit again.

“It doesn't concern you anymore.”

You don't wait for her answer, too scared she will get to you again. You turn around and go into the office where she will not be allowed to follow.

At your next appointment with your therapist, you're pissed off at yourself.

“Why did I even speak to her? I knew it would end badly!”

“Well, it's normal to speak to people when they speak to you. You told her you're busy and she tried to manipulate you again, but you slowed down, noticed what she was doing, and made the right decision. I'd say this situation shows how much progress you've made. You protected yourself.”

These words bring you back to reality. You sigh.

“She will come to my work again.”

Dr. Spencer hums.

“You told me before that you would like to explore different opportunities in your work field. Maybe you should take yourself on that.”

This is how you end up getting a job as the nurse in a paediatric clinic. It is in a different place of the city and takes a different route, so Sandy won’t be able to catch you at a metro station if she tries. You don’t tell your colleagues where you’re going, just saying you wanted to take time for yourself and relax, removing the possibility of Sandy finding you again.

You're excited - working with kids and helping them seems like an opportunity to heal something in yourself by doing something good. The head of the clinic, Sevika, gives you a tour after your final interview to meet the team and she also introduces you to the doctor you’ll be working with.

“Doctor Anderson?” Sevika calls when you enter the office. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, hang on.” The voice of this woman is soft and friendly, and it reassures you.

“I want you to meet your new nurse.”

Something falls and you hear a children’s song playing and the room is not illuminated by different colours. Adorable.

“Sorry, it’s a mess here.” You hear her voice again and then Dr. Anderson emerges.

You just stare. She is tall and has broad shoulders, her compression shirt under her scrubs shows off her muscled arms - which is expected, she is a PT - her blonde hair is braided and her braid rests on her shoulder. Dr. Anderson is incredibly pretty, and you’re a woman enough to admit it and stay professional.

“Hi. I’m Abby.” Dr. Anderson smiles and holds her hand for a handshake.

You tell her your name and shake her hand - god, the grip these women have here.

“Would you walk Ms. (Y/n) through everything here?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Dr. Anderson shows you everything: where is all the equipment, the toys for kids, the changing room. She tells you all about the protocols - which you’re familiar with as well, except for dealing with overprotective parents and dealing with kids’ pain: at your previous clinic you mostly worked with adults.

“I’m very excited.” You admit after your tour is finished.

“Yeah?” Dr. Anderson grins. “Be prepared to learn a lot of baby songs.”

You laugh and feel very optimistic. You feel like you can have your life back now.

Your first day might not go as smoothly as you wanted, but Dr. Anderson is patient with you. She doesn’t snap at you when you follow her instruction wrong for the third time and doesn’t tell you off after patients leave. She just gives you tips and leaves it to you to correct it. You don’t know if she notices how you flinched in fear when you made a mistake the first time or if she is always like this, but you’re grateful anyway.

The kids are adorable and resilient, they don’t give up and it makes you cry a little. The way Dr. Anderson praises them and holds them and explains to parents what she is doing is admirable. Watching her hold a 3yo toddler on her palms is equally impressive and attractive. Dr. Anderson is attractive, it’s hard not to be drawn to her, but you shove your emotions deep, deep down - it’s incredibly unprofessional. You complain about it to Dr. Spencer and she just chuckles and reminds you, “Attraction happens unconsciously and you can’t control it, so stop fighting it.” It annoys you that she is right.

After three months working together you become friends and you call Dr. Anderson Abby now. Because honestly, she looks absolutely ridiculous in her Hello Kitty cap. You find your rhythm and now you work extremely smoothly - you know exactly when the kid needs to be distracted or when Abby needs your help during different exercises.

And Abby doesn’t tell you - because she is also aware how unprofessional she is - but she adores you. You’re so good with kids it makes Abby jealous sometimes, how you somehow know what exactly will stop the kid from crying. You’re also good with her - you take as much as possible from her shoulders and Abby now has someone to rely on.

She knows she is ears deep in love when you send her a video of a bright squeaky octopus and tell her you’re going to buy it for her office and then a few days later you admit to her that it’s actually a dog toy and you got in a pet section. Abby cackles and promises not to tell anyone. Especially since the octopus is a hit with a few kids she is treating.

Abby is desperate. She knows she can’t ask you on a date, but love makes a fool out of the best of us, so on the day that marks four months since you’ve been working together, Abby goes to Sevika’s office to embarrass herself.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Dr. Anderson.” Sevika tells her as much. “Ms. (Y/n) is not employed by you and you have no authority over her. Ask the girl out and don’t waste my time. If it goes south I’ll just send her to Grayson.”

“Thanks, Sevika.”

“Get the fuck out, Anderson.”

Abby laughs and goes back to work, hopeful.

And Abby is not delusional - you do like her. She is caring and patient and funny as hell. But you’re too scared both because you’re her nurse and because as much as you work in therapy, Sandy doesn’t let go of you. Dr. Spencer had to deal with your multiple spirals after you started working with Abby and fucking up or thinking you’re fucking up. “Now name me 10 things that are different about Dr. Anderson and Sandy” was said at least 5 times. Well, your life is routine based so you schedule your spirals once a month, it seems.

So yes, you like Abby a lot. But you’re so broken that when Abby finally gains courage and,

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Sleep for 12 hours counts?” You laugh, oblivious.

“Would you-“ Abby takes a big breath and now you’re panicking, scared she’ll tell you something mean. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You just stand there and stare at her in shock. Abby gives you time, but her nerves are not that strong, so she gives up when the silence starts to feel too big.

“I’m sorry.” Abby says as politely as possible, not wanting to burden you with her disappointment. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I-uh- no, it’s okay! I just- I didn’t expect it.” You say while anxiety is buzzing inside you. “I upset you, I’m sorry.” You cringe when you understand you projected onto Abby again.

“Hey, it’s totally fine. I understand, believe me.” Abby smiles.

You’re too scared to agree - you don’t feel like you’re ready for dating - so you let the awkward silence fill the room.

That evening you spend overthinking, convincing yourself Abby deserves better, that you’re not good enough for her and you can’t involve her in your issues.

“So Dr. Anderson, who you like, likes you back?” Dr. Spencer asks when you retell her the whole story. “Why don’t you tell her you’d go on a date with her?”

“Because I’m not what she needs. She needs someone who is better than whatever I am.” Dr. Spencer nods compassionately. She wants to bring your attention to how you speak about yourself, but she chooses to go on a different route.

“Don’t take her choice away. Let her decide what she needs. After all, who is the expert on her needs?”

“She is.” You admit and feel like you can breathe again. You're not responsible for Abby's choices, so you can't decide for her. It makes you feel free.

Abby is not having the time of her life on Saturday evening, moping around and cringing at herself for asking you out and reading the situation wrong, when her phone rings. She sees your contact and her heart speeds up from anxiety and hope.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me. I-um. I’m sorry for yesterday, I was just- Sorry, not the point. Is your offer still standing?” You sound extremely nervous and it’s cute. Abby smiles and chuckles, happy.

“Yes. Of course.” She says softly and hears your shaky sigh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

You’re very nervous on your first date with Abby - you don’t want to upset her. So you dress and redress and redress until you think you don’t look too embarrassing. Abby smiles and compliments your outfit when she sees you, and some of your anxiety goes away. You’re painfully aware that you feel like you’re walking on eggshells during your date - Abby took you to an art gallery and then to dinner - and you know it’s not because of Abby. Abby has been so sweet and considerate the whole time and you’re sure she doesn’t feel comfortable with how tense you are at some moments, but the past still grips you tightly.

So you come clean to her when you go for a walk after dinner.

“I’m sorry I’ve been weird.” You start and Abby looks at you to show that she is listening. “My past relationship was not great and I’m dealing with the aftermath now. Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay grounded in reality.” You’re so deeply ashamed of yourself you can’t look at Abby. You expect her to dump you right away, or laugh at you, or call you weird, but nothing like this happens.

“Oh.” She says, surprised. She thought you were just shy, but it makes sense. “Thank you for telling me. Is it why you didn’t agree to the date when I asked you on Friday?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You cringe, but Abby looks at you softly.

“Don’t. We all have our battles. I’m glad you called me back.”

You can’t help your smile. Abby can’t help but to ask if she can kiss you.

The first sign of how “not great” your past relationship was happens three weeks into dating. It was the end of the day and you were packing your things when your phone made a sound. You quickly checked it and then looked at Abby, panicked. Abby stops packing her bag, worried.

“Did something happen?”

“N-no. My friend just texted me. She asked me if we could go for drinks.” You admit, scared to lie to Abby and scared she will not be pleased with you. “Can I?”

“Can you what?” Abby asks, confused, but your mind is registering it as anger. You take a breath to calm down.

“Can I go? If you don’t want me to, I won’t, I promise.”

Abby stops completely. Her heart breaks when she understands what is happening, and why it’s happening.

“Baby, hey. Take a breath, yeah?” She speaks softly and comes closer to you to hold your hands gently. “I’m not going to be mad if you go anywhere, especially to meet your friends. You don’t need to ask my permission, okay? You’re your own person with your own life.”

You sniffle and Abby coos and hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry.” You say into her shoulder. “I just-“

“It takes time to heal. I understand.” You cry even harder in her arms. “I promise I’m not going to be mad about it. Can’t be sure about Kyle though.”

You laugh through your tears - Kyle is a two year old who is obsessed with the noises you can make. It’s the only thing that keeps him calm when he does his exercises, and you have to be in the room during his appointments.

“Thank you.” You tell Abby honestly and she kisses your forehead.

You’re still nervous when you go to see Niki the next day, but Abby just tells you to be safe and call her if you need her, and that she can pick you up if you want her to. You’re not sure, and you tell her that, and that you will text her if you change your mind. It’s scary, to put a boundary, but Abby just kisses your cheek and tells you to have fun.

“You look so happy.” Niki tells you after you caught up on mundane news and gossip.

“I’m actually dating someone.” You confess and Niki's mouth hangs open in a dramatic shock.

“Really? And how is it going? What’s her name? Do you have a picture?”

“Her name is Abby. We work together, and she is amazing.” You giggle and show Niki one of the pictures you took together when you were fooling around at the clinic.

“Wow. She looks strong.” Niki winks and you get flustered. “I hope she treats you well.”

“I told her about Sandy. She has been very patient with my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit.” Niki frowns, stubborn. “Sandy is a fucking psycho and she really hurt you.”

“Abby told me she can pick me up if I want her to, but I’m not sure. It’s hard to understand what is normal behaviour and what is not.” You admit and Niki squeezes your bicep, showing her support.

“Well, when we hung out while you were with Sandy, she texted you constantly and then showed up ten minutes later to drag you out of here.”

“It wasn’t like this at first.”

“No, at first she was just constantly texting you and asking you about stupid shit.” Niki says pointedly and eyes your phone that hasn't made a sound during the whole evening. "I think your girlfriend just cares about you. You know, like a decent person."

You end up texting Abby and asking her to come when you and Niki feel like it’s time to go home. Abby replies with a thumb up, and then 20 minutes later she enters the pub and smiles at you. You introduce Niki to Abby and they shake hands while you laugh at Niki’s face when she gets to experience a handshake with a PT.

“Are you ready to go or do you guys want to have some more time? I’ll wait.” Your heart feels swollen from feelings: Abby is so sweet you can’t help but nuzzle into her side. “I feel like this is the answer.” She chuckles and Niki coos at you two.

“Let’s go.” Niki smiles like a fox, happy to see you happy.

“Do you have a ride?” Abby asks Niki while she gives you her forearm to hold on to. “We can drop you off.”

“No, I called a taxi already.” She smiles and winks at you.

When you go outside Abby takes off her jacket and places it around you shoulders and you smile like a lovesick idiot. It’s not even this chilly, but Abby still thinks of your comfort.

When Niki is safe in her taxi, you both get inside Abby’s car as well.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Good.”

The fights, as it turns out, are not scary or loud or violent - you’re baffled by the fact that Abby actually listens to you when you voice your concerns. You expect her to lash out or tell you you’re imagining things or that you’re making a villain out of her, but nothing like this happens. Abby has her own issues: she is very problem-solving focused and her first reaction is “how can I/we fix this”, and it hurts when you actually want her to comfort you, but you both learn how to deal with it. You honestly can’t even call them fights, they’re more like troubleshoots.

What is scary is that the first few times when you voice your problems and Abby reacts like a normal person, you bottle up your anxiety. You exhaust yourself with overthinking: is Abby going to leave you? Are you too much to handle? Are you being a burden? How long before your stupid whims will make Abby sick of you?

You can’t bear it. You see how patient Abby is with kids, how she pushes them just enough for them to progress and evolve, how kind she is, how she calls them “sirs” and “ma’ams” when they do something on their own, and all you can think is that you don’t deserve her. How amazing Abby is and how fucked up you are, and how much problems you cause.

You’re spiralling, and you know it, able to recognise your own insanity now, but you can’t stop it. But the one thing Dr. Spencer taught you is to speak up, and one day, when you’re at Abby’s place, you find your courage to speak up.

“Am I being too much?”

“Hm?” Abby is confused. She is often confused when your issues come out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“Will you break up with me because I ask for too much?” You ask quietly, really trying to ignore how your voice shakes because you’re on the verge of tears.

Abby stares at you for a second, but in the next she is hugging you. The dam inside you breaks and you sob into her chest, letting all anxiety go out.

“I will not leave you. I’m here. You don’t ask for too much, baby, you barely ask for anything. Ask for more, ask the world from me, okay? Ask for the most ridiculous shit, it’ll only make me love you more.” Abby murmurs and your sobs get louder. “Let it out, yeah, let it out. I love taking care of you, it’s my favourite thing in the world.”

“I’m just so scared.” You say into Abby’s chest as you cling to her. “I want to be deserving of you.”

“Baby, you’re deserving of me just by existing. You’re here and this alone makes me happy.”

Abby lets you cry it out and then brings you some water when you calm down. You are still vulnerable and anxious, but Abby cuddles you and talks to you to soothe you.

“Do you think I'm weak?” You ask her ten minutes later and Abby chuckles.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I don't think if I went through what you did I would ever let myself trust someone again. But you are brave. And you're so incredibly kind and thoughtful. The only weakness you have is probably sweets.” You both chuckle. “And I'm very angry that there's a person who dared to hurt you like this and put this bullshit into your head. Honestly, can you give me her address? I know exactly how to break her bones.”

“Can you promise to tell me if dealing with me gets tiring?”

“Of course.” Abby promises you genuinely, because she knows this moment might come - she is only human. But she knows that even when this moment comes, she will be by your side.

+ 1 nsfw

When you first have sex you're both very worked up and you cling to Abby impatiently, clawing at her shirt and her pants, not really sure what you want to be gone first. Abby thinks it's cute, how needy you are, and she tells you as much before she can think.

“Someone is needy, huh?” She teases you and expects you to get flustered, but instead you freeze and look at her, wide eyed and hurt.

“Sorry.” You say, ashamed, and Abby's heart breaks. She takes your face into her palms and looks into your eyes with such tenderness you have to look away.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like this. I like how enthusiastic you are. It makes me feel wanted.” Abby smirks and your cheeks heat up. “Is there… is there anything I need to be careful about?”

“I’m not really good at sex.” You admit. “I wasn't able to make my ex cum.” You don't tell Abby the whole story, you don't want to ruin the mood, but Sandy was never happy with your skills: she had to watch porn on her phone to get aroused when you topped. And she hated when you didn't do as she wanted when you bottomed and how needy and pathetic you were.

“Well. I don't trust your ex’s opinion since she is a piece of shit.” Abby smirks. “And sex it not about destination-”

“It’s about the journey, I know.” You chuckle. Dr. Spencer likes this saying so much. You take a breath and brace yourself: you know sex is not a place where you can hide something from Abby without hurting you both. Honesty is crucial in sex. “I don't think I can undress fully. Can I leave my shirt on?”

“Of course. Can I- can I still touch you under it? I really wanna feel how soft your tits are.”

You hide your face in embarrassment and giggle. You nod and Abby kisses your cheek.

“If you don't enjoy something, tell me, yeah? And if you want we can really make your ex look stupid.”

“How?”

“With you I really don't need much to cum. One stroke wonder if you will.”

You snort and hit Abby's shoulder.

“You're horrible.”

Abby grins and kisses you. You do make Sandy look stupid that night, when Abby's thighs close around your head and she cums on your face so hard your ears start to ring.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson

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ma1dita · 8 months

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

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surielstea · 1 month

Text

Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

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hotvintagepoll · 4 months

Text

Propaganda

Clark Gable (Gone With the Wind, It Happened One Night)—There's no proof that Clark Gable stripping in It Happened One Night caused the sale of undershirts to take a nosedive, but there's also no proof that it didn't do that. And either way, him saucily undressing for bed in front of a woman who was married—not to him—is too deliciously scandalous to ignore. He deserves votes for this scene if nothing else. He got an Academy Award for this movie! He could play comedy just as well as drama, he earned medals for his bravery as a bomber gunner in WW2, he competed in car races, he has a great mustache and perfect eyebrows for sexy smirking, he's just HOT.

Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Clark Gable propaganda:

"Listen, he was "the King of Hollywood" for a reason and a suave motherfucker. Also a Major in the air force during WWII!"

"So Clark Gable was the king of Hollywood for a reason but honestly what makes him hot to me is his relationship with his wife Carole Lombard like if she loved him so she can't be wrong. Their relationship is so tragic like they met first when they filmed No Man of Her Own in 1932 and like there was nothing between them then but in 1936 they met again at a Hollywood party and this time things were different. Basically from that moment on they were inseparable and had to carry out their romance in secret until his divorce was finalized (he was separated when they met again at the party) and then they eloped in 1939 when he had a break during filming Gone With The Wind. They had a 20 acre farm together with horses, cows and chickens and they loved to do all those outdoorsy activities together. When they were apart for various work obligations they would send each other goofy gag gifts. In 1942 Carole was on a trip to sell war defense bonds when on the flight back home her plane crashed in the mountains of Nevada. Her death devastated Gable he flew to Nevada and demanded he be taken to the spot where the plane crashed despite the dangers posed by its location. Amongst the wreckage they found a hair clip he had given her for Christmas. Her death forever changed him he became more reckless and signed up for the US Army Air Corps in 1942 and he kept her bedroom unchanged in their home. He never stopped loving her when he died in 1960 he was buried next to her. I know Clark wasn't a perfect person and their is some speculation that she was racing home on that plane to him because she was worried that he was having an affair or something but relationships are complicated especially ones occurring in 1930s and 1940e Hollywood amongst two of the biggest starts at the time. (I just wanted to include this so ya know I'm not just looking at their relationship as all sunshine but like you can't deny the love they shared)

"They had an ineffable quality in romance, the ability to have fun together... they were soulmates who thought life was delicious, and they made everyone's life delicious around them" -Esther Williams

"GWtW is an epic stretching across years so Clark has a chance to show off a whole bunch of different sides, from Hot Outsider to Husband to Father and so on. But his most attractive is his final line of the movie, made only better by the story that he lobbied the Film Industry to ‘Let Rhett Curse!’ And who is more classic 30s Hollywood than this man?"

"Also apparently his name was Billy Gable then Glark Gable before finally landing on Clark Gable. A fact that I cant forget now glark gable lives in my mind now"

Sidney Poitier propaganda:

#sidney poitier #clark gable #hotvintagepoll #round 3 #fuck that old man!!!#i'd like to present the hottest man of all time: glark

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smallmariofindings · 5 months

Text

In Paper Mario, some interactions with NPCs include unique missable dialogue if Mario is supposed to return an item to the NPC but the player presses B to cancel the item selection menu, resulting in Mario refusing to return the item.

Lily from the Flower Fields has an uncharacteristically strongly-worded comment if Mario does not immediately return the Water Stone, telling him she hopes he will dry up and his petals fall off.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: PM (NA, N64)

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hollyhoneybear · 7 months

Text

【 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 】 - being athy's big sister

remember, requests are open !

Athanasia was very weary of you, at first.

In Lovely Princess, you were an impartial character. You treated both Athanasia and Jennette the same, never favoring one more than the other.

At first, you did speak out agaist the claims of Athanasia poisoning Jennette. However, when the fake evidence was presented, you could only side with the law.

The novel didn't expand much on your personally.. You were just Jennette's beloved big sister, and Claude's first daughter.

So she was surprised when almost every day, without fail, you would come running to her nursery, begging whatever maid that was half-hazardly watching Athy to let her play with you.

Although only a few years older than Athy, you did more than the maids every did (aside from Lillian, of course). You happily bottle fed her, read her books, played toys with her.

Still, Athy kept her guard up with you. You'd think she's cute now.. but when Jennette comes along, you'd leave her side just like in the novel.

...

At 10 years old, your little sister was 5. After your persistant efforts, Athy had slowly let down her guard around you. It was alright to relax for now.. right?

Your days before Claude were blissful. You'd sneak Athy chocolates, bake sweets together while the maids gushed over how cute you both were. You'd spend hours in the flower fields braiding wildflowers.

At some point, you basically began living in the ruby palace. You'd crawl into bed with Athy at night, holding her against you as Lily read you both a bed time story.

Every single night a kiss was placed on her small forehead, and you both slept soundly in each other's company.

But that changed when Claude appeared.

...

Both something that you and Athy could agree on was that Claude was.. unknown to you both. He wasn't exactly a good father to either of you.

Still, you saw the opportunity for your family to become closer, so you jumped at the chance!

Every day you were in Claude's office begging him to have a tea party with Athy and her.

Every day you would ask for a bit of money to get Athy a gift - and then of course, suggest he should get her one as well.

Slowly, over time, you three bonded and became closer (even if Athy didn't want to admit it).

When Athy started drowning that one day, Claude watched as you nearly jumped in after her. But he grabbed you by your ankle before you could jump in, instead fishing his hand in to get her out himself.

That surprised you both. You were excited, while Athy was freightened.

Things really changed when Athy had that near-death scare, though. You three were having one of your usual tea parties, when Athy started spitting up blood.

The last thing she saw was you rushing to her side, and Claude staring at you both in shock.

...

After that incident, everything changed. Well - things stayed similar. You three had tea, ate dinner together, went on boating trips. But things just felt.. different.

You both could see the way Claude looked at you two had changed. You were cherished. And while you weren't super caught off guard about it, Athy certainly was.

Every day you were carrying her to Claude's office, and spent almost the whole day in there coloring, playing, or talking to Claude.

Claude started giving you both gifts.

When you appeared at his office one day with Athy, dressed in these adorable matching outfits Lily got for you both, Claude nearly choked at how cute his daughters were.

You three were getting closer, as if you were a real family.. and Athy felt like she could finally, really, relax.

...

As you both got older, your dynamic changed a little, but you were stiill very close.

You helped Athy with everything for her debutante. Choosing decorations, jewelery, makeupstyles to do, dresses to wear, you were involved in every step. And she couldn't have loved it more!

Compared to Athanasia's original debutante, the event didn't feel like an upcoming battlefield, but instead a day to celebrate with her family ....in front of a bunch of nobles, but we'll skip that.

She insisted that you were a dress that matched her's somewhat.

As a teenager, she's much more protective over you. Her darling, angelic older sister, she couldn't just let someone take advantage of you!

Definitely starts getting jealous when you start spending more time with your friends, or your lover.

Despite her fears, you never "left her side" for Jennette. You were always cordial towards her, but Athy was always your first priority.

When Jennette's identity was eventually revealed, despite the ongoing turmoils, you tried to act like family to Jennette, but that sister bond with Athy was a bit different.

And even if it was a little selfish.. she was immensely greatful for that. You were the only person to be on her side since day one.

You were always there during the hardest times for Athy. Even when she ran away, she couldn't bare to see you in distress, so she would visit you every night and keep you updated.

On one occasion, she snuck you out to meet Jennette..

..And it was wonderful! You three spent the night drinking tea, eating cute cookies, and chatting the night away.

It relieved you that, even though Athy wasn't home, she was still safe.

...

By the time Claude got his memories back, you three had the strongest relationship you'd ever had before.

You were.. a real family.

After everything with Anastacius was over, the topic of inheritance came about.

You were, by a good few years, the eldest.. and therefore, the rightful heir to the throne.

You expressed right away that you'd love for Athy to become Empress. But that's where she stops you!!

You've done everything for her in this life. If you weren't here.. she wasn't sure if she'd even be alive, let alone in Obelia.

So after much deliberating, it was agreed that you would be the next Empress of the Obelian Empire.

...Which meant, you had to hang out with Athy a lot less. It was torture for you both.

The bright side was that Athy got to involve herself in all aspects of the planning. She wanted you to have the best coronation, so she deemed herself in charge of the matter, along with Claude of couse. But she'd act like the boss because it's Athy

She helped you pick out a dress, decide on the hairstyle. You two spent countless nights doing makeovers on each other, because she wanted to try different makeup styles on you, and you wanted to try similar looks on her so that you were matching on the special day.

When the day came.. it was magcial.

You were surrounded by your loving little sister, your proud father, the friends you had made, and the empire that adored you.

Although Athy wasn't going to be Empress, you made sure to communicate to her that you two would stay as close as you always had.

Despite her original fate, Athanasia had earned her place of ultimate safety and happiness; right by her big sister's side.

#kind of a experiment post??#I didn't intend for it to be this long #it was supposed to be general headcanons but then I got carried away ToT #wmmap #who made me a princess #wmmap jennette #who made me a princess jennette #suddenly became a princess one day #whomademeaprincess #wmmap athanasia #wmmap fanfic #wmmap x reader #who made me a princess x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa fanfic #claude de alger obelia

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totaly-obsessed · 7 months

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can you write for katie where her and reader have a child and readers admiring them playing together

Mo Stór

Katie McCabe x reader

-> Watching Katie play with your daughter will never get old

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

People could say all they wanted about Katie on and off the pitch, and no matter what she did there would always be someone who would not like her – so she gave up on getting people to like her and just started being herself.

That’s why you fell in love with her all those years ago. It was so easy to fall in love because the Irish woman was just so lovable.

When the then twenty-two-year-old had returned from her loan spell to Glasgow City, she was a changed woman – more mature with more bite and goals in life as she returned to Arsenal, and you. You, her girlfriend since 2015 – but that title would not hold much longer, because upon returning, Katie proposed to you.

It was a lovely day in – you had woken up together and prepared a nice brunch before going for a walk outside. It was as romantic as Katie would get, still keeping her humor that had won you over in the first place – handing you a ring-pop at first before pulling out the real one.

The wedding was small but everything both of you wanted, taking place in Katie's hometown of Tallaght where you had set up in a stunning barn. The footballer’s entire family was there, as were most of the Arsenal girls that could make it – for you however, there were just a couple of friends that had come.

Same-sex marriage had only been legal for two years in Ireland It was after the wedding that it would be legalized in Germany where you were from. And while your parents were not necessarily against it, they also weren’t fans of it – opting not to make an appearance.

Later in the year, in October 2017, after many conversations you had started the first round of IVF, thankful for the chance of having a baby together. And to everybody’s surprise, it worked. The first round worked. Both of you were incredibly happy and after a hard pregnancy, Aine Lily McCabe joined your little family in July of 2018.

---

Now in 2023, the five-year-old was still the light of your life – making every single day better than it already was. You thought life couldn’t get better after Katie, but you were wrong, Aine made life just a little more colorful.

With Katie being a footballer, her schedule could be crazy, but your teacher lifestyle came with a very consistent week, which made everything much easier, there always would be difficulties - like on that particular day. Aine’s Kindergarten was closed due to sickness, but you had to work – leaving Katie with her spitting image at the Arsenal training grounds.

You had been scared that the day would end in a catastrophe, but the girls loved ‘their youngest member’ and Jonas was happy to have her as well as she was a nice distraction from the serious topics and hard training.

After finishing for the day, instead of heading home, you opted for the Arsenal Training Center, desperate to see your girls after a long day. Once parked, you didn’t even need to check inside, hearing the girls yell from the pitch – so you just followed their noise.

It was now the midst of October and the Arsenal girls were preparing for their game against Aston Villa. You could see your breath due to the cold, as you walked the way to the pitch. It was chaotic, and the girls were playing matches on smaller fields, with fewer people – but there were 2 games at the same time.

You could see Aine sitting on a jacket by the side of the pitch, a beanie much too big to be her own, on her little head, hiding her brown hair. She was dressed appropriately in a warm sweater, with a big jacket on top, not even remotely cold as you shivered on your way. Pulled over her jacket was a bright yellow bib, that marked one team from the other. And after a glance, your guess was confirmed, that Katie was also wearing yellow.

“Hiya baby!” The little brunette squealed as you plucked her off the ground, swinging her back and forth before sitting down with her on your lap. “Mommy!” Wet kisses were littered all over your face – something else that she copied from her mother. “I missed youuu!” She sang the last ‘u’ while pouting adorably. “Missed ya too baby.”

A shrill whistle marked the end, two sets of women cheering in victory, as the opposing teams looked disappointed. It didn’t take your wife long to join you, taking her biggest fan out of your arm, and settling her on her hip, before pulling you up by your hands. You couldn't even register anything as fast as she had already roped you into a deep kiss, as Aine hid her face in Katie's neck. “Come on a stór – show me watch ya got.”

Katie had taken her little stór, her treasure with her, setting her down and explaining where to steal a ball from, when a long, lanky arm found its way around your shoulders. Viv was smiling at you, giving you a quick hug, before Beth could get there first. “What a bad wife you have – doesn’t even give you a jacket.”

The three of you chuckled as you pushed the blonde off, picking up Katie's discarded jacket from the ground, and pulling it over your own. It was nice to chat with them even if you saw them just a couple of days ago – there was always new gossip to gather. The whole team was obsessed with your student's gossip – and while you would never tell important or confidential stuff, the ‘who-loves-who’ was very interesting to the footballers.

“Oh, look at Aine go!” It was Alessia who made you look back to your daughter. The five-year-old was sprinting down the pitch, Kyra by her side as Katie was ‘trying’ to defend the goal where Sabrina jumped from left to right. The Australian passed Aine the ball, who just stretched her leg out and it went in. Leaving a stunned Katie and Sabrina.

Loud cheers made your daughter shy, as Kyra picked her up, throwing her in the air and catching her again. The brunette walked over to her mom, hiding in her legs, with a broad smile on her face. “Mama, I made it!” Your wife could not help but laugh “You did baby, but right now, I’m your opponent, not your friend, right?” She had crouched down by now, wiping some dirt off your daughter’s face. “No, you are Mama. My Mama.”

Meanwhile, you stood at the side of the pitch, staring at your gorgeous wife and daughter. Viv and Beth were quite amused at your speechlessness. “Recon if they were alone Mrs. McCabe would jump her bones right here and now.” You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at your friend. “Beth!” The couple walked away chuckling to themselves.

You had not moved an inch, watching Katie kick the ball at Aine, who sent it back to her. It was adorable. Whenever a ball went to wide, Katie would run after it, reassuring her daughter that she did a great job. Big smiles on both their faces. Smiles that looked almost identical.

Katie was so incredibly great with Kids, that it made you cry sometimes. She would always make time for the little girls and boys who wanted her attention or signature, even if she was already late. She really listened to them, getting on their level, meeting their eyes, and never took them as too young or inexperienced when she talked about something serious. Katie took the time to explain, helping your daughter with homework when you were just too tired.

Your wife by now had noticed your starring, a smirk on her face as she sent Aine to go with Kyra to the changing rooms. Your daughter abruptly took the Australian's hand, tugging her with her. Once Katie stood in front of you, she covered your very cold ears with her warm hands, giving you a passionate kiss after making sure that you were the last ones outside. “What are ya starring at, lovie?”

The smile on your face was love-drunk, and Katie loved it. “I want another one.” You had buried your head in her neck, trying to hide your hot face – but she quickly nudged you out of it. “Huh? Repeat that for me, my love.”

Her smirk was unbearable to look at, as hot as it was. “Could’ve sworn ya said you want another one.” Your nod was enough to earn you another searing kiss that left you breathless. “I really do Katie. Do you- I mean do you want another one?”

“Mama! Kyra stole my shoeeee!” Your wife pressed her forehead against yours, keeping you close. “We’ll talk about it when we get home, yeah?”

“Kyra! Give it baack! Mama!” Apparently, Aine had found herself a big sister in the Australian who was standing in the hallway, holding a tiny shoe in her hand, pretending to throw it outside. “I’m coming mo stór!”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mc cabe x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

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