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sunderwight · 3 months

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SV fic where Shen Yuan's status as a body-snatching entity is revealed before the Immortal Alliance Conference can happen.

Maybe the system suffers a glitch while some unforeseen side quest is active, and suddenly Shen Yuan's status is revealed and some of the other peak lords he's with seize the opportunity to exorcise his spirit and put Shen Jiu back in his place.

Shen Yuan has mixed feelings about this development, needless to say. On the one hand, it's kind of not actually that bad? He got caught out like a week away from the IAC and the necessary Abyss plotline, so at least like this, he's managed to give Luo Binghe a slightly better time on Qing Jing for the past few years and equip him more capably to survive the Abyss, but he also doesn't have to personally throw him down there. That's the silver lining.

On the other hand, everything else about this situation sucks! He got attached to his life as Shen Qingqiu, dammit! And now he's been revealed and branded as some kind of horrible demonic spirit thing, and he was rather painfully expelled (even though he wasn't even there willingly in the first place), and so he's been reduced to some a kind of sparkly ghost light hovering on the fringes of existence, highly susceptible to being harmed if any more righteous cultivators get it in their heads to disperse him!

Which is better than just being catapulted back into his rotting corpse in the other world, but not by as big of a margin as he'd like.

Basically, in terms of his ability to influence the world Shen Yuan has been downgraded back to "read only" status. He finds that he can manifest himself in places that he's already been, or around people he has a particular affinity towards, but they can't perceive him and he can't communicate or even do much more than some minor poltergeist type activity. Which he is cautious about anyway, because if he gets caught around Shen Jiu, Shen Jiu is going to disperse him with extra prejudice.

Unfortunately, nearly everything Shen Yuan cares about is in Shen Jiu's orbit.

So he can only watch, metaphorically gritting his teeth as the newly-restored Shen Qingqiu kicks Luo Binghe out of the bamboo house, burns all the bridges that Shen Yuan painstakingly rebuilt for him, refuses point blank to let Liu Qingge help with Without-a-Cure, resumes and even begins taking more frequent trips to the nearest brothels, and neglects his duties to turn into a paranoid wreck as if he half-expects Shen Yuan to steal his body back from him the next time he lets his guard down. Corporal punishment spikes back up on Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Yuan is surprised to hear the whispers of dissent, even so. A spirit possessing a righteous cultivator is a pretty damning incident, and there's no way that he could come out of it smelling like roses. And yet, even though his -- Shen Qingqiu's disciples know enough to be circumspect about saying anything of the sort, there are still murmurs and rumblings about how things used to run, not too long ago.

Ming Fan quiets any such talk as soon as he hears it. Ning Yingying scarcely seems to know how to respond to the situation, except to sometimes plaintively insist that she hadn't even noticed much change between Shen Qingqiu's at all. But Luo Binghe...

Well.

Whenever there are mutterings, it often seems as though Binghe is there. Nodding. Whispering. Carefully putting forth suggestions that others barely seem to recognize as suggestions. Shen Yuan only notices because he knows what Binghe's capable of when he decides to be manipulative, and even he finds himself wondering if it's not just a coincidence, something he's imagining, because Luo Binghe hasn't even blackened through his Abyss arc yet.

Even so, there he is, musing carefully on how strange it was that he's heard that Hong Jing hadn't identified any untoward presence in Shen Qingqiu before, how Shizun had never done anything bad to the peak despite all the claims that he'd supposedly been possessed by a malicious entity for years, and wasn't this new Shen Qingqiu acting much more suspicious? Much more malicious? Isn't is the new Shizun who jumps at shadows and talks to people who aren't there, and seems so uneasy in his own skin?

If one had to guess which version was an unstable monster possessing a human's body, and which was the righteous and noble peak lord... ah, well. It's just surprising, isn't it? Luo Binghe would of course never suggest that this new Shen Qingqiu was in actuality the being that had stolen someone else's place. He's surely never second guess the judgment of the peak lords, who claim to have let an interloper among them for YEARS in total ignorance. It's just something to think about.

Alas for Binghe, though a lot of the peak seems inclined to agree with him, he can't win over enough to inspire anything worse than discontent. The "new" Shen Qingqiu does behave a lot more like the one that most of the Qing Jing knew prior to his qi deviation, after all, and it's no mystery why Luo Binghe -- spurned former favorite, now back to being at the bottom of the pecking order -- would be unhappy with the change. Shen Yuan appreciates that this is at least doing a good job of setting up Luo Binghe's altered opinion on his shizun, and he's touched that he made a good enough impression for Binghe to be mad about the sudden regression, but he wishes he could tell Binghe that there's simply nothing to be done about it. That is the real Shen Qingqiu, and Binghe ought to concern himself more with the upcoming conference!

At least, despite being kicked out of the bamboo house, Luo Binghe managed to farm enough good opinion with some of the other disciples during his tenure as Favorite that he doesn't go back to sleeping in the woodshed. Without Shen Qingqiu expressly demanding it, no one would dare, just in case Luo Binghe might regain his status one day. There seems to be an awareness that "evil" Shizun would have made them run laps, but "good" Shizun would now probably whip them half to death in a fit of temper. No one wants to take chances.

Finally, the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around. Shen Yuan can only watch and cheer Binghe on as best as he's able to, even knowing the probable outcome. And Binghe does so well! He fights bravely but also smartly. When Shen Qingqiu arrives, Binghe doesn't lose an ounce of his caution, though he does still nobly defend his master even though the good feelings between them have dried up. He correctly identifies Without-a-Cure's flare up and silently helps compensate for Shen Jiu's weakness, and sticks by him even though the Original Goods is hardly appreciative.

When the Abyss opens up, and Luo Binghe's demonic seal is broken, Shen Qingqiu seems almost relieved to have this information brought to light. He accuses Luo Binghe not only of orchestrating the invasion of demons at the conference, but of arranging fro Shen Jiu to be replaced too.

"Of course, for a demon like you, summoning some wicked force into this master's body would be easy!" he spits.

Luo Binghe looks bowled over by the accusation. But rather than defending himself, he latches onto it as if it might be some kind of lifeline.

"For a demon like this one... it would be possible?" he echoes.

Shen Jiu hurls more accusations. Of course it is. Luo Binghe is not just any demon, but the most powerful, dangerous, and destructive sort there is. Little is beyond the scope of a Heavenly Demon's power, or wretchedness. Luo Binghe must have uncovered his heritage and seen a convenient means of ridding himself of an inconvenient master. Wherever that horrid spirit is now, it's probably just waiting for the next chance to leap back in at Luo Binghe's call!

"Shizun's spirit... that spirit from before, it still exists?" Luo Binghe catches.

"As if you don't know. Beast. Even the sect leader could not destroy your minion completely," Shen Jiu sneers.

"And it would be within my abilities to put it back in your body. Instead of you."

"You won't get the chance."

Shen Jiu stabs Luo Binghe before throwing him into the Abyss. Binghe fights back, but he seems reluctant to injure his shizun, even now.

Shen Yuan supposes that such reluctance won't survive the Abyss. Still, it's emotional for him. That such a little kindness could cause Luo Binghe to hesitate, even at this point, it really speaks to the resilience of hope in Binghe's heart.

Shen Yuan's little ghost light almost follows him down. But the Abyss would be too dangerous for him, even as he is now. He'd be a little mote of spiritual energy, easily gobbled up by any number of creatures in that place, if he wasn't just swept up by the chaotic ambient energies themselves. So he can only stay behind and think some very colorful swear words in Shen Jiu's general direction, until the rift closes and leaves no trace of Luo Binghe behind, except for the shards of Zheng Yang.

The shards are left behind. Shen Yuan finds that he has a little bit of spiritual storage space. Just enough to maybe fit all of them, so he goes and painstakingly uses his limited powers to lift up each piece and drop it in. It takes him hours and hours, but luckily the clean-up of the whole disaster is something that will take months. No one seems inclined to go reclaim Luo Binghe's shattered blade or risk getting too close to the remnants of the rift, even closed. So, Shen Yuan manages.

The next few years prove difficult. Shen Yuan finds that it's hard to retain his presence in the world. His little spirit has dampened considerably, and few things seem to perk him back up. He has more troubles following anyone who isn't Shen Jiu now that Binghe is in the Abyss, and Shen Jiu is depressing as hell to spend time around. He's rotten with kids, sucks at teaching, he has no friends, his health is deteriorating, and Shen Yuan has no interest in seeing what he gets up to in the brothels.

But Binghe is definitely coming back, and Shen Yuan wants to see him again.

His patience is rewarded the first time he finds his consciousness drifting, only to snap back to awareness in a place that's not Qing Jing Peak. He instead finds that he's in an unfamiliar patch of wilderness along a river, watching as Luo Binghe fights a small pack of demonic beasts.

It's definitely not the Endless Abyss. Has it been five years already...? Shen Yuan hadn't thought so, but then again, he's not the best at keeping track of time in this state.

Luo Binghe defeats the beasts, but they land more hits and wound him worse than Shen Yuan would have anticipated. The wounds aren't healing as quick as they should either. Was Binghe poisoned? Or is this a remnant of Shen Yuan's own poor teaching, the clumsiness in sword practice he never totally managed to correct leading somehow to this?

He gets it when Qin Wanyue and several other Huan Hua cultivators show up, however, and Luo Binghe manages to play the righteous cultivator who just survived a harrowing battle role to the hilt. It takes him very little effort to get the Huan Hua disciples to take him back with them and help "patch him up", and soon enough Shen Yuan has front row seats to watch as Binghe ingratiates himself with the sect.

Mostly, Shen Yuan is just relieved to confirm that Binghe did indeed survive, and glad that he's out of the horrible Abyss and in a place where he can rest and eat decent meals and be fawned over by his well-deserved admirers. Though Luo Binghe seems colder even than Shen Yuan expected, especially in some places where a bit of charm would serve him better. He declines outright to address the Palace Master as "shizun", even though he accepts the offer to stay as a guest disciple at Huan Hua Palace, and he is abrupt and aloof towards both Qin Wanyue and the Little Palace Mistress, despite their obvious interest in him.

Binghe doesn't seem to sleep as soundly as he should either. At night he often brings out a dream stone, which Shen Yuan recognizes as an amplification tool from the novel, but it seems that whatever Binghe is trying to search for with it is beyond his reach. Sometimes Shen Yuan imagines he can hear his disciple's voice calling Shizun at night. But always, Binghe is asleep, and there's no one in Huan Hua Palace he has deigned to address like that anyway. It's a trick of his own imagination, missing the days when Luo Binghe could call out and he himself could answer.

Things go mostly according to the plot, with a few disruptions here and there. Luo Binghe seems to be lagging behind on the romantic subplots, but rushing ahead on the vendetta against his old teacher. The Trial of Shen Qingqiu takes place at Jinlan City, with demon instigators who work for Luo Binghe accusing the peak lord of colluding with demons and setting him up to seem like he was involved in the sower attack. Shen Yuan knows, from watching Binghe, that the sower thing was mostly taking advantage of an existing situation to frame Shen Qingqiu. Binghe himself didn't have anything to do with Jinlan's suffering, but is obviously not above using it to his advantage.

Combined with Qiu Haitang's testimony, Shen Qingqiu is arrested and locked up where Luo Binghe can torture and dismember him at will.

However, Binghe... doesn't do that?

Instead he swiftly relocates Shen Qingqiu to a prison in the demon realms, and seems to abandon his concerns with Huan Hua Palace and the righteous cultivation sects altogether. He just leaves them to fight it out amongst themselves, as if he's got no concern with who comes out on top, and in the meanwhile he keeps Shen Qingqiu locked up but surprisingly well-treated?

Despite Shen Qingqiu's obvious terror and vitriol towards him, Luo Binghe forces him to eat nutritious meals, and attends to his health problems, and makes no move to injure him at all. He has nothing good to say to Shen Jiu, but he doesn't hurt him. Yet there is something distinctly weird about the whole dynamic, not at all like someone who has decided to keep a prisoner under ethical conditions for moral reasons or something like that.

Shen Yuan's not sure what to make of it.

In the end, Shen Jiu himself illuminates the situation.

It happens after Shen Jiu has rejected food. Luo Binghe tuts and asks if Shen Jiu suspects it would be poisoned. Shen Jiu sneers at him.

"I know it isn't," he says. "You wouldn't poison this body. I know what you're after."

"Oh? Wise Master Shen figured out this much?" Binghe replies, dry as the fucking desert.

"You're keeping me in this condition because you want to put that thing back in my body!" Shen Jiu accuses.

It takes Shen Yuan a moment to realize that Shen Jiu is referring to him. That he thinks Luo Binghe is keeping him fit and healthy for Shen Yuan's sake.

Wouldn't that be going too far just for some old teacher who was nice?! Yes, he knows that he made an impact on Luo Binghe, but it wasn't hard! Shen Jiu set the bar at the earth's crust, clearing it hardly required the kind of effort or devotion that would inspire an entire elaborate scheme purely on Shen Yuan's behalf!

He can't believe it.

But, Binghe doesn't deny it.

In fact he smiles, his expression somehow conveying that Shen Jiu guessed perfectly correct, but also that there's no good it can do him. Binghe has never looked so much like a piece of PIDW fanart before, with some dark and potent rage simmering just beneath the veneer of his placid smile.

"Shizun should not be referred to so impolitely," Luo Binghe counters. "If anyone in this room is a thing, it is this usurper in front of me."

"Usurper?! In my own body? You're mad."

Binghe tuts.

Master Shen should understand that his claim is contested. After all, if one woman gives birth to a child but then casts it into a river to die, but another fishes the babe out and cradles it to her breast -- which woman deserves to be called that child's mother? Just because Shen Jiu was born into that body, doesn't mean he deserves it more than anyone else.

But even if he did, Luo Binghe wouldn't care. He would kill to get his Shizun back. This isn't really so different from that, is it? And there is no love lost between him and Shen Jiu to make him hesitate. If his Shizun disagrees, he may disciple Binghe as he sees fit once he returns.

Shen Jiu points out that Luo Binghe's machinations have ruined his reputation. Even if he gets that creature to possess his body again, there's no way that they could infiltrate Cang Qiong Sect a second time.

But Binghe waves off his concerns. He clearly has thought of this, and has plans for it, but is also not about to be stupid enough to monologue any more at Shen Jiu. Once he leaves, Shen Yuan lingers for a little while, and notices that Shen Jiu actually seems genuinely concerned about what might happen to the sect if Luo Binghe succeeds and gets Shen Yuan put back on Qing Jing Peak.

Of course, Shen Yuan knows he wouldn't actually do anything to harm Cang Qiong, but Shen Jiu doesn't. This is the first time Shen Yuan has seen him actually reveal shades of what might be called a noble impulse.

It's not much, but... sigh.

The thing is, Shen Yuan doesn't really want to steal anybody's body! No one consulted with him the first time it happened! And they sure aren't consulting with him now, either, although to be fair they can't. But he might just have enough ability as a little ghost light to stave off some of this whole process, and he's got to decide if he wants to try. Or if he'll let Binghe have his way, and succeed in pushing Shen Jiu back out and giving Shen Yuan his life again.

Because Binghe will definitely succeed if he really does try. That's how the world works.

And if he did... that might be the only way for Shen Yuan to get his life as Shen Qingqiu back. Which he does want, desperately! He misses it. He misses it both in the general sense of having a body at all, but also in the particular sense of all the things he managed to attain as Qing Jing Peak Lord. As Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu, also, makes a very tempting sacrifice in all this. Shen Yuan frankly hates his guts. Maybe it could have been different, but the fact that Shen Yuan worked so hard to try and make that life better, only for Shen Jiu to just go right back to being an intractable asshole who, frankly, should never be in charge of children ever, rankles! He went right back to mistreating Luo Binghe as well, and threw him into the Abyss, and if Binghe's plan was to violently kill him again as revenge for that then Shen Yuan wouldn't fault him. He didn't fault him the first time. He wasn't going to fault him even when it seemed like he would be the one Binghe was destined to rip apart in justified vengeance.

This is different, though. Shen Yuan wants to fight for the life he longs to be living, especially now when the axe of the Abyss is no longer hanging over him.

But is he willing to actually become the thing everyone else decided he was in order to get it? A body-snatching, malicious spirit?

Shen Jiu is horribly unsuited to his life as Shen Qingqiu. But, it is still his life. Shen Yuan really just managed to borrow it for a while.

Deep down he knows that, even if he would like to ignore it.

So when Binghe finally sets up the ceremony, and Shen Yuan's soul is called back into Shen Qingqiu's body, he hesitates. Shen Jiu is poised like a snarling, wounded animal within the confines of his own body. Even the gentlest tap would knock him back out again. Shen Yuan gets the sense that the system is also there, just waiting and even eager for him to do it. Take back the body, resume whatever quests or directives are waiting for him there.

Shen Yuan, even as fragile as his own spirit is, could crush Shen Jiu's battered soul to dust.

Instead he withdraws.

Binghe tries the ritual again, and again, and each time Shen Yuan feels stronger. But it doesn't matter, because he doesn't want to be an evil body-stealing parasite! He wishes he could just tell Binghe to stop wasting valuable resources on this, especially when Binghe could be focusing on other, more important things! Like building up happy relationships or consolidating his rule of the demon realms or establishing an actual strong foothold in the human world, or something!

Somehow, Shen Jiu figures this out before Luo Binghe does. Of course, he conveys the information in the worst way possible, snidely wondering what Luo Binghe did to alienate "that creature" he's trying so hard to resurrect so badly that it will refuse even the open, glowing invitation he keeps writing for it!

Excuse you, you miserable old man, Shen Yuan isn't avoiding Binghe! He is facing a very difficult moral dilemma and handling it LIKE A CHAMP! Fuck you!

Unfortunately, even though Shen Jiu has decided that Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan were in cahoots about the first body snatch, Luo Binghe knows that they weren't. He also doesn't know that his old Shizun knew full well that he was a Heavenly Demon the whole time. So now he has a lot of doubts to wrestle with, especially give that, despite the consensus of the rest of the world, Luo Binghe is not convinced that Shen Yuan actually is some kind of demonic spirit.

Maybe he's a good spirit that has rejected Binghe for his wretched blood?

But Shizun always said that things like that didn't matter!

So... maybe it's not his blood. Maybe Binghe's actions are what has caused Shizun to forsake him. All the terrible things he did to survive the Abyss, and the machinations afterwards, framing Shen Qingqiu and imprisoning him, setting himself up as a demonic ruler... all of that.

Binghe entreats his Shizun to forgive him. Or even if he won't forgive him, to still come back. Binghe will... stay away, if that's what Shizun wants. Just so long as Shizun is alive, is somewhere in the world, safe and happy, then... then...

He can't quite get through lying to claim that it would be enough. But it would be better than the current situation, so he tries.

Shen Yuan, luckily, has been juiced up enough from all the failed summoning rituals that later that night, he finally recognizes the little whisper-calls as echoes of Luo Binghe's dreams. And he's strong enough to follow the invitations! He goes to visit Binghe in his dreams, and reassures him that he's not trying to reject him at all. He's very proud of Binghe, and wants him to be happy and successful. Binghe could rule the world and Shizun would just cheer him on!

It's just that Shen Yuan never willingly possessed Shen Qingqiu in the first place. He misses his life, but given the choice, he doesn't want to be that kind of entity.

So, new plan -- if Shen Yuan won't take a body off of an undeserving asshole, then Binghe will make him a new body! Luckily, Shen Yuan knows a way to grow one. They "borrow" some genetic materials from Shen Jiu to aid the process, and then Luo Binghe, surprisingly indifferent about the whole thing, cuts Shen Jiu loose at the border.

Shen Yuan is surprised. Binghe really doesn't care about that? Turns out no, not so much. Shen Jiu is awful, but he's nothing to Binghe in the long run. (Also it's a long shot but if nothing else does work Binghe might have to force Shen Yuan to take Shen Qingqiu's body back, though of course he's not about to say so, and anyway Shen Jiu is still going to have a hell of a time waiting for him back in the cultivation world. Luo Binghe wishes him luck and every pleasure of trying to clear his ruined name, living a life on the lamb with an insidious poison constantly eating away at him, or the full enjoyment of a second visit to the water prison, whichever ends up happening.)

With the help of Luo Binghe's blood parasites, the Sun and Moon Dew whatever mushroom body grows in record time. A summoning ritual isn't even required, Shen Yuan just scoots right in as soon as the body is ready and blinks his eyes open to see his anxious disciple's face peering back at him.

Happily ever after!

#bingqiu #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #long post #and I'm sure that nothing else subsequently goes awry or drags anyone into further dramatic plots #shen jiu absolutely got the system by the way #it's in that body #he was SO confused #but didn't want anyone to think he was still possessed or anything either so he didn't tell anyone about it #lbh downplays it but he is REALLY BIG MAD about how that whole possession plot/reveal went down #oh so everyone's just going to assume the spirit possessing the asshole peak lord was malicious?#yeah luo binghe's not letting that go any time soon

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cursedzucchini · 1 year

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You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

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pippin-katz · 7 months

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6 More Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 2

(not ranked in any order)

No. 1:

I love the smile he does right before this, but I also love this. He gets a little emotional. You can see in the way his mouth moves and his nostrils flaring that it looks like he’s a little choked up.

You know when you’re not crying, but you can feel that throbbing sensation in your throat, and you know you might start crying if you’re not careful. You start swallowing a lot to try and keep it back.

That’s what I’m seeing here, and that’s super sweet because he loves Henry so much that he might cry.

No. 2:

Do you think he knows? Do you think he’s doing it on purpose?

That right there is the “lifts eyes” look. That right there is exactly what authors are picturing they write something like this:

Alex looked down at where the key sat against his chest. The cool metal was a stark contrast to Henry’s hand. Goosebumps spread across his skin, centered on where they were touching. Alex raised his eyes to meet Henry’s.

Like sir, can you not be a walking fictional character? You might as well have walked out of the book.

No. 3:

There is no other word for this but swooning. Again, might as well have walked off of a page with how perfect his physicality and expressions are.

No. 4:

This look right after Henry says they’re committed to each other is perfect. He stays neutral enough not to be rude, but you can see it in his eyes and his eyebrows how determined he is.

He’s looking at Philip here as well, who has been giving Alex rude looks since they sat down; his face particularly after he says “god no” to the question of reading the emails is borderline disgusted, and if you watch his eyes, he looks at Alex more than Henry.

Kudos to Philip’s actor for being able to subtly imply his layers of prejudice with as little screen time as he has.

Alex’s responding stare is like he’s challenging him. His eyes say, “if you have a problem with that, you’ll have to fight me over it, because I’d die before I’d let you take him from me.”

It’s obvious from the moment the king starts talking that Alex wants to speak up, but he knows this is Henry’s fight first. He holds himself back for as long as he can and lets Henry do the talking.

At this point, the king has already dismissed Henry’s request for support and right to be happy, so Alex is definitely pissed off, and then Philip is a dick; his patience is running out.

It’s amazing how a tiny change in facial features can speak volumes without saying a word.

No. 5:

This breaks my fucking heart every time I watch it.

His eyes are noticeably red from crying, which I have no idea how he did because he's not actually crying in this scene, so it wasn't from filming it over and over again. Maybe they filmed the Kensington Palace scene prior to this one, on the same day or something, cause he was crying in that one.

Anyway, this expression just kills me, because he's reached the crossroads. He can either keep waiting, not knowing if Henry will ever answer him, or he can go to London to get his answer.

And the idea that Henry may not see him and how that would be it, the true end to their relationship, fucking devastates him.

You can see it in his eyes and the deep breath he takes that he's imagining it. He's playing it out in his head, him going to London and being turned away, and having to go about living his life without Henry in it.

Just the idea of it is enough to break his heart, and it breaks my heart to look at.

No. 6:

I love and hate the way Alex's face slowly falls when Henry says he should leave. Think about this for a second.

They live on separate continents with an ocean in between them. Alex is the First Son, and Henry is a fucking prince. They were texting for months before they got to see each other for New Year's Eve, which was the only reason why Henry was able to go to the States. He's only in the States now for the dinner party being hosted for the Prime Minister. He's flying back to London tomorrow.

They have no idea when they'll see each other again.

Henry has the idea of inviting Alex to the polo match, so he might be a bit optimistic, which is probably why he was still smiling when he pulls away. He's thinking about it, and has been for at least a little bit, probably since after the Red Room encounter earlier that night.

But Alex?

He has no idea how long it will be until the next time they're able to see each other in person again. Henry texted Alex for the first time on August 27th, and they weren't able to see each other in person until New Year's Eve. That is four months.

Since they were just friends during that time, it probably was no big deal, but now? Now they're going to be constantly thinking about each other. Thinking about getting to hold each other again, getting to kiss each other again, getting to do more explicit things again- all of it.

And Alex doesn't know when he'll get to do any of it again once Henry leaves. He even goes to say, "I guess I'll see you-" when he and Henry start talking at the same time.

Henry inviting him to the polo match is a promise of getting to see him next month, so probably a week or two, depending how far into the current month they are. It's probably part of why he smiles so much when Henry leaves. He has something to look forward to.

But in this little moment, Alex probably feels so sad because he knows Henry has to leave, but he really, really doesn't want him to, because he's not just leaving for the night so they don't get caught in Alex's room together. Once he walks out that door, he doesn't get to see him for who knows how long.

Agh, okay, that's all for part 2! I'm not too sure if I can make a part 3, but we'll see!

part 1 | part 3

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #firstprince

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night-raven-tattler · 4 months

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Say hi to daddy!

Summary: How would these characters behave as fathers? What does their ideal family look like?

Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignyhide, Diasomnia, Royal Sword Academy

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The chances of Leona agreeing to having kids is very low: he has a lot of baggage and personal beliefs that would make him not be fully on board

Plus, why would he need another screeching box when Cheka is already around?

But then a bit later in life... something happens and suddenly he has a child in his and his partner's care

Because why would anything ever go the way he wants?

Yet, he grows attached, with the help of his partner

He's the only one who can put the kiddo to sleep, and the only one whose hair the kiddo likes to play with

While his lazy predisposition doesn't allow Leona to go too much out his way for the kid, he's far from an absent father

He is not only present but trying his best to be an example

Because, even if the child ends up seeing him as a bad example, he will be satisfied with the lessons he managed to teach

He loves roughhousing with the kid or challenging their young mind

And when he's too overwhelmed, Cousin Cheka is available for babysitting duty

For Leona, fatherhood becomes a time of finally healing inner wounds while becoming more understanding without being dejected: it's the time when he finally finds an inner balance and find some peace

...he still won't ask Falena for fatherly advice though

Leona is, for sure, a girl dad; he also will pump the brakes at 1 child, 2 children would probably open old wounds he's not quite ready to deal with

『••✎••』

Jack is, undeniably, a family man whose life goals follow a pretty traditional route: get married, have children, grow old and see his family thrive

His classmates sometimes teased him lightly about it, but they all were happy for him when they saw Jack's content smile at his wedding and later at the apparition of his first child

From the very beginning, Jack is a good husband and a doting father, and he loves spending one on one time with his kids the most

Jack loves having his little ones join him in his training regimens, even if all they do is watch and ask questions

That's what they do usually anyway, the kiddos have been waddling towards their dad since they were in diapers

Dominant beastmen traits or not, he still expects them to do their best physically, and he's the dad to sign up every kid for a sport

Not that he wouldn't be understanding if any of his kids happened to take a less physically challenging path in life: he'd be just as supportive, but he'd also reflect on his actions and ask his partner if they think he's done something wrong

Parenthood is a chance for Jack to learn how to be more of a team player, not only as part of a parental unit, but also as a dad who needs to meet his kids in the middle and understand that the "pack leader" can still be wrong if he doesn't listen to his pack

Jack would enjoy 3-4 kids, he loves the idea of a big family, and he'd totally be a boy dad

『••✎••』

Ruggie

Ruggie never really thought about having kids, his main focus has always been financial stability and reducing that food anxiety

But it's very likely Ruggie would end up with an unplanned kid

He wasn't completely on board with the idea of parenthood... until his little one looked into his eyes and smiled

Did Ruggie accidentally pass down his pickpocketing skills to this kid? Because they just stole his heart

But that doesn't mean he really has a good grip on what parenting really means; yes, Ruggie is dependable and responsible, but he also is an orphan who has always fought against a lot of prejudice

So he often relies on his grandma for advice, she's the closes thing he has to a parent

He's the dad that really pushes his kid to learn as many things as they can, anything that can become a life skill will eventually come in handy

He helps his kid build up their independence, while they help him become more open and honest

Ruggie is very open with his child about his upbringing from the moment he feels like they are ready to hear it, and he makes them understand that his position in the Sunset Savannah is nowhere near the top as a hyena beastman

But he promises them that they are not any less worth being someone deserving of living comfortably just because of some societal garbage

Ruggie doesn't really have a gender preference, but would prefer 1 child, so the financial burden wouldn't be too heavy

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi

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marmett · 10 months

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i think the fallout fandom at large dont give the various groups of new vegas enough credit for what they have the potential to build in the anarchy ending. like, a lot of ppl like to focus on how they couldnt possibly find solutions to all the problems the mojave has unless they have the ncr/legion/house, but there are so many issues that the ncr and house created in the area that independent settlements are already finding their own solutions to. and just imagine how much they could get done w/o the ncr and house fucking around and making things worse.

like, westside developed an entire farming co-op! food supply issues are a major problem in the mojave. dr. hildern's idea is to raid a vault and use unstable scientific research to fix it, but westside is doing fine on their own. imagine what they could do when the ncr moves out and they can expand to take over their old fields too.

another food supply issue is w/ the early stage capitalism the ncr and mr house brought along, and the brahmin barons like heck gunderson who can fuck up the food supply chain on a whim. getting rid of ppl like that and returning to independent, community based farming would do massive good for the area, and it would possibly open up an opportunity for jacobstown to start trading w/ the rest of new vegas!

like yeah, they had issues w/ anti-mutant prejudices, but i feel like when relying on other communities becomes a necessity ppl will get over it. and westside is right there too, i dont think theyd have as big of a problem working w/ a super mutant community when mean son of a bitch is already a beloved member of their own community.

and yeah, security and protection would still be a huge problem, but westside again has shown that communities can take care of themselves! they had to deal w/ the fiends on their own bc mr. house and the ncr didnt rlly care abt them and left them to fend for themselves. novac also came up w/ their own solutions to protecting themselves w/ boone and manny. and maybe this is the optimist in me, but i think fixing supply issues will reduce the need for communities to protect themselves from other ppl.

anyway yeah. the communities in new vegas have SO much potential to build smth great. i love thinking abt it.

#fnv #fallout new vegas #westside is my fave settlement if u couldnt tell LMAO

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astaroth1357 · 1 year

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My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

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harrysonlylover · 1 year

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Pride & Prejudice or (Mechanic Harry Part 4)

Summary: Your relationship with the Mechanic in town seems to flourish as you spend more time working for him. Except that you both begin to cross friendship lines whether intentional or not.

WC: 10.4k

A/n: So sorry that part 4 took this long, i hope that didn’t discourage you from reading :( enjoy lovies🫶🏻

Mechanic H Series

Today is a good day.

The sun is golden, the trees in the field are dancing and bunny is hopping around the strawberries Harry planted. Some bluebirds flew around the house and landed on the kitchen window, aiding the tune being played on the yellow scratchy vinyl.

Rays of sunshine snuck in and painted the house with a warm ambiance that Harry could never give up, even Snowy expressed his love by sleeping under the sun.

Unfortunately Harry was unable to ignore the real sun that was missing, he felt his stomach drop when he realized that you already left. He cursed his drowsy state, knowing that he never sleeps in this late. If only he woke up half an hour earlier…

His pondering last night concerning what to cook you for breakfast is now long gone, but as far as he remembers he had decided on strawberry pancakes.

‘Sparks’ by Coldplay was his to-go song in the mornings, he needed something calm to soothe him after a full night’s sleep. But now the lyric ‘Did I drive you away’ is not something he wishes to hear, so he turns it off as the two bluebirds take over the singing.

Instead he plays ‘Je te laisserai des mots’ , it is more suitable for his window friends anyways.

He made himself a quick breakfast filled with protein ( which is sacred to him so he can have energy all day). Snow Bun had some rabbit food, with a chopped strawberry that he devoured first, he needs fuel to play all day too.

Harry trained Snowy when he was a baby , it was harder than dealing with a cat or dog even, yet not impossible. As far as he knows there isn’t much danger in the wide field but he installed a wooden barrier so Bun doesn’t go far away or loses his way.

He also makes sure to inspect the field during his morning run for anything that could be hazardous to the little bun, if he doesn’t have time then he’ll set him up a play area in the house.

Today was perfect for a morning run, so he enjoyed one, breathing in the pure air with his headphones in. The clock was nearing eight in the morning so he dressed up in his denim Levi’s , a custom Gucci shirt with a grumpy bear on it gifted to him by his childhood friend (apparently, he thinks that the bear is an imitation of Harry).

He was almost done with Meena yesterday before what went down between the two of you , he decided to leave it for later during the day, he has a good number of Jeeps to fix.

11 AM.

11:30 AM.

12:00 PM.

Harry kept checking the clock anxiously, perhaps it’s broken and he forgot to fix it? Old clocks need delicate care and recently he’s had his head in the gutter. His phone’s clock confirmed that it is indeed 12 PM, and you are still nowhere to be seen.

You took good care of the garage, helped him quite well and took appointments, yet Harry had a thing for being organized, and you didn’t…

It’s not like you turned the place upside down, but you liked having things close around you instead of organizing them, so his lost crawler (that he later found near broken scooters after he texted you) was stressing him out, and it reminded him of your presence , how you put the item somewhere else even after he tells you where to exactly put it.

His top-secret oil (a mix of oil his chemist friend made and some imported oil from the Middle East) getting lost was his last strike, even though it was your mess that got him startled and disturbed but he does not know yet that he unconsciously cares more about your presence than the items.

He cannot understand for the life of him why you thought you were fired, he never even implied it. What did your anxious little brain tell you?

He knows how anxiety can be, he’s not immune to it, but he can’t help his attitude , it’s how he acts around everyone. Harry was checking the coolant of a Range Rover when he heard the wheels of your bike; he abruptly straightened his posture , watching you attentively as you parked in front of his shop.

Your eyes were fixed on ‘Pride & Prejudice’ as you sat in your regular chair, it’s been like this for fifteen minutes. Uncle George interrupted before you could say hello to Harry. He was a nice old man and you could see how much he means to Harry.

He came for the clock necklace and patted Harry’s back, you can’t exactly point out their conversation but it is quite evident how grateful he is for Harry’s help.

You dug your eyes back into the book, allowing yourself to get lost in Jane Austen’s world. Harry’s presence was smooth, almost unnoticeable but never invisible.

“So what’s that book you’re reading?” He muttered suddenly catching you off guard. You’re not sure how much time has passed since George left. Getting distracted in books is easy.

“Pride And Prejudice”.

“Isn’t it about that guy that hates her but later becomes whipped?”

You let out a loud laugh at his own idea of the book, it was somewhat true. It’s just weird to hear him say it.

“Yes Mr.Darcy, it’s a bit complicated I believe that he might have liked her from the beginning, but was afraid of something, I’m not sure but men hide behind their emotions.” You were fiddling with the cover of the book not even aware that both of you are no longer speaking about the book.

“It’s just my opinion but guys always take longer to figure out things, because he really had no reason to be grumpy and mean.” You were speaking rapidly and curiously, as if you were alone in a room, nonchalantly criticizing one of the best classics.

Harry was a bit too silent, his legs spread as he sat in a car, checking its speedometer while he listened to you. A while ago you might have cared about him being calm and unresponsive but now the words rush out from your mouth without even thinking , you’re not sure what shifted but it’s nice, really nice.

You reached the part where Jane got sick and Elizabeth went after her, it was one of your favorite scenes but your reading got interrupted with a shadow blocking the light in front of you.

“Has anyone ever told you that your communication is pretty shit for a social worker?” Harry’s body towered over your resting figure, a thin layer of sweat adorning his face.

“I— what?”

“You didn’t talk about yesterday, nor why you skipped work today. You just immediately sat down with your bloody book” He wasn’t shouting loudly but his tone changed, and he was visibly upset.

“Please don’t shout.” You replied in a calmer voice and placed your book inside your bag.

“I didn’t mean it.” He scoffed and took a few steps back with his gaze fixed on your now disturbed expression.

“Why’d you leave in the morning.” He leaned against the car and spoke in a manner so calm that you barely even heard him.

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” Again you noticed that he doesn’t have music on.

“I don’t understand.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before swiping his hand through his hair.

“Well my presence at the race was rude and then you welcomed me into your home, I felt like I was intruding and being a burden.” You managed to speak as you fiddled with your bracelet.

You didn’t want to confess anything to him or anyone for that matter but especially him. Maybe he’ll think you’re an idiot who overthinks every word spoken or why the wind blew in that direction so instead of bothering anyone, deducing outcomes was easier.

“It’s fine, we’re good. We were both in the wrong and don’t worry about it anymore. My home is not the white house, you can come anytime…” His soft face stared back at you as he hesitated his choice of words.

“…. For Snow Bun of course.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched his head.

“Yes, he is very adorable.”

Even after being vulnerable and speaking out, the atmosphere was still nice perhaps even better. You were not one to communicate and Harry was an argumentative person, an outsider would gape their mouth at your attitude but for now Harry moved around the garage and played David Bowie, and you silently hummed as you arranged the appointments. He managed to sneak the fallen pots inside before you arrived, but it was of no use, you already saw them. And so it goes whatever he hides, you will see.

“Heyy I found my top secret oil!” Harry screamed from inside over the sound of music. He popped his head out a few moments later showing you the oil bottle.

“Did you put it in the refrigerator?” He furrowed his eyebrows inspecting the bottle from all sides while realization struck you as your face turned tomato red.

“I’m sorry! I thought it was Pomegranate molasses.” You cupped your hand over your mouth feeling your heart beat rapidly.

You expected a scolding, perhaps forcing you to pay for it or just grumpy Harry attitude but instead you were met with a toothy grin as his head fell backward before he placed his palm over his eyes and let out the most beautiful laugh you have ever heard.

Harry held back his laughter for the rest of the day and gave in every time he looked at your pout. In your defense, you really thought it was molasses, you apologized repeatedly but he wasn’t really listening, stuck in a laughter daze.

When a customer came to pick up his car and inquired if Harry changed the oil, he looked at you and laughed as you organized his tools, but the customer got rude and Harry didn’t take it well.

”Are you laughing at me?” He tried to appear intimidating but failed to do so as Harry straightened his posture, and crossed his arms against his chest, allowing his biceps to flex almost immediately.

“The fuck is your issue dick? Do you see me laughing for you? Piss off from here.” He sneered at him before throwing the car keys at him.

The man grumbled something under his breath, and picked up his keys off the ground as he continuously cursed Harry who was changing the song choice to 1975 and couldn’t care less.

“What was the man shouting for? Did I mess up his appointment?” You asked him timidly after hearing the man shout loudly.

Harry gazed at you with a troubled look, wincing slightly as he noticed your eager expression, were you waiting for him to shout at you? He regrets not beating up the guy.

“Just men being men don’t worry yeah?”. You nodded at his words and took your usual seat watching him continue to work as you unwrapped your turkey sandwich.

He bopped his head to the ‘The Adults Are Talking’ by ‘The Strokes’ as he took off his rings and placed the leather gloves on his soft hands, they were pretty clean and delicate for a mechanic. This time he allowed his curls to shade his face, not paying attention to his hair clip. Due to the scorching heat, he took off his shirt (which you really liked) and placed it neatly aside where it wouldn’t stain.

The sight of his muscles was something you could never get over; he had phenomenal beauty and you read about Greek gods before but you’re not sure they can compare. Soft waist, artistic tattoos, delicate hip bone, dainty pearl necklace, prominent veins.

His anatomy was graceful like a fallen angel.

You had forgotten to eat breakfast this morning, and when Harry texted you asking to come, you freaked out and packed your sandwich instead of having it. It was your special recipe and the to go lunch sandwich, you were ready to devour it when you glanced at Harry and saw him gazing with a frown on his face making you feel like the worst person on the whole planet.

In a matter of seconds you had the sandwich split into two, leaving a half on the table in front of you and approached Harry who now was even more grumpy, as you stretched your hand to offer him the bigger half.

“Sorry for my bad manners, I should’ve asked, would you like to eat some of my Turkey sandwich?” His face softened a bit at your expression but switched back to his usual tense demeanor quickly.

“Thank you no, I was actually wondering about something else.” The toothpick in his mouth did not stop him from speaking, as he leaned his back against the car, planting his foot firmly against the gravel. His position made his midsection stretch and bend and his V line was getting recognition, you hoped he linked your drool to the sandwich.

“Which is? Do I have something to do before eating? Did you stop lunch breaks?”

Every time you spoke, a little feeling inside Harry sparked, this tiny feeling confirmed his thoughts time and time again. He has to shake himself whether mentally or physically and shut down his urges which most of the time include opening his notebook.

“I guess why you’re eating a sandwich. Does it fulfill you?”

The thing about Harry is that it’s very hard to read him sometimes, is it confusion or curiosity, fondness or kindness. Right now it was a mixture of both wonder and something that you can’t quite catch yet.

“I mean I think so. You don’t want to try it?” Your pout told him all he needed to know, if he didn’t take the sandwich from you, you’d probably think about it for days but right now Harry had something else on his mind.

“Can you stay here for a bit? Don’t go after me and don’t eat the sandwich” He ordered with a stern look before throwing his tooth pick in the garbage , closing the hood of the car and going inside the store.

You were not exactly sure how to feel, you don’t even know what he went to do, maybe he felt guilty or shy from your food offer. Either way you are really hungry and you wouldn’t mind sharing food with him so where did he disappear?

Harry has never cooked for someone else in his life until you.

He can’t really recall what led him here, or why he’s cooking meat right now and boiling pasta. His chef techniques were meant to be reserved only for him and Snow . His legs did lead him here and his hands keep chopping the vegetables without a direct order. Lately his nervous system seemed to be betraying him, acting upon some certain actions that make him beyond confused.

Maybe if he had an explanation after it was done, it would’ve put him at ease, except that he doesn’t. He likes to be direct and see immediately through people, and that was the problem with you, he was seeing too much.

Why did it matter if the pasta’s boiling was medium or fully cooked or if the change in spices was necessary? He could not for the life of him understand many things.

Maybe Snow Bun can help.

Harry has been inside his garage for the past 35 minutes, at first you were worried and he had asked of you to not follow him, so you respected his boundaries.

Your worry slowly fled away when you smelled it, the scent of tomato sauce and the unmistakable scent of meat, you assumed that your mind was playing tricks on you and it was your hunger that made you imagine things.

But as more time passed you knew that you were not a lunatic and that Harry really is cooking. So you were right then, maybe he was making food because he got hungry and refused to take your food. In moments like these you could see that Harry is just a tender boy at heart, in your opinion everyone is.

We get mistreated a lot that we lose sense of who we are, but the real and soft version of us, the one touched by angels and untouched by demons remains hidden and comes out discreetly but in the most beautiful ways one could imagine. It was kind of your favorite hobby, to see when it shows up , but to get to observe it, you have to know one’s weakness at first then watch them do the exact opposite.

With Harry it’s taking you more time to observe, tender things need more patience.

You got excited at the idea of Harry eating with you, you were used to eating alone, as the only person close to a friend you had was Kitty and maybe Harry but you don’t want to put your hopes up.

You were wrapping up the sandwich again so that it stays edible, before Harry walked out with two plates in his hand, he was still shirtless and the heat from the oven reflected on his sweaty body, he had a chef’s bonnet to avoid getting his hair in the food and the sight of him strolling lazily with his jeans low on his waist and holding food that he made was a sight that will be engraved in your mind for a long time.

He balanced the two plates in one hand effortlessly, and grabbed a chair nearby fixing it next to yours as he set the food in front of you which you figured out is a Tagliatelle alla Bolognese.

“Fancy some pasta?”

Lunch with Harry was nice. He seemed flustered and you’re not sure why, so to save him the embarrassment you opened up a chat about Snow Bun who is probably trying to pluck the strawberries from the garden as you spoke.

You insisted that Harry tastes your sandwich and despite his chef like standards he approved of your recipe but continued to flaunt that his culinary abilities are better.

“My sandwich deserves a Michelin!”

“Excuse you? People would die to have my pasta woman!” He scoffed and chewed with his Bunny teeth that he probably stole from Snow.

He took the plates inside and fumbled around for a certain product then remembered immediately that he ran out of it. You went on a quick walk and bought some of the missing essentials for the shop, and you bumped into Uncle George , who you approached to greet.

“Hello Uncle George, How are you? Can I help with anything?” You offered a sweet smile in case he needed it today.

“Oh bless you child I am well, thank you I’m only grabbing a bouquet of flowers.”

“Ohhh, is it for your wife?” You blushed at the thought of your future partner buying you flowers at an old age. Uncle George is a very sweet man, no wonder Harry is close with him.

“Yes darling it is, she loves yellow tulips.” He pointed at the bouquet he’s holding with an enthusiastic smile.

“Oh that’s so nice I hope she likes them. Have a nice day.”

“Same for you kid, same for you.” You bid him goodbye with another smile and walked away before hearing him again.

“I can see his through his eyes now.”

You turned around to see that he did not repeat his words and apparently not address you even, when he looked back he waved again at you and you returned it with a confused look.

Upon your return, Harry was cursing under his breath in a grumpy state, the music was low and he was standing over an open hood with his fingers examining his puckered lips. He asked for the bottle of brake fluid as you organized the other things you bought in their designated places.

“Can you come over here” He asked a few minutes later.

You found him holding up the hood of the car with his two hands and you can see how his biceps are clenching as his hand fought against the weight of the hood despite holding it like it weighs nothing.

“The hood is broken and I need to fix something else, It won’t balance on the stick, can you please hold it while I check something?” You nodded and took over the hood part , and quickly felt its weight. Damn him and his muscles.

He easily managed to pull heavy parts and put them back, he was really good at his job and no one could deny it. You helped him and handed him over some of his kit as he worked out the trouble.

“The coolant is supposed to have a sweet smell, yet it smells weird and there are no signs of any leak. Flashlight please?” He asked without turning to you but when you didn’t respond for a good while he angled his head towards you.

Your hair was long and straightened and it was getting in the way of your vision since you were bent down, you did not want to tell Harry, afraid that it would seem unprofessional of you.

You were struggling to hold the hood, and the flashlight was farther than all the other tools, when you tried to reach it your back cramped from the weight of the hood and your hair completely clouded your vision.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry it’s my hair. I can’t see.” You winced as you felt useless despite it being the first time he actually asked of you to help yet you were not able to provide it.

“It’s okay you can sit down I’ll handle it.” He replied without glancing at you.

“But I can help—“

“Just sit there, it’s fine.” You nodded and felt the sadness creep into you despite him not being mean, but you really wanted to help.

He’s already paying you way too much to just take appointments and buy new oil. Your body slumped against the barstool and your lips formed a pout as you glanced at the now neglected car, you were making a great team.

“M’gonna need you to stay still for a while.” He came behind you abruptly and swiped his hand through your hair.

His hands were soft even though he spent all day ruining his skin layer with work, you can feel the lotion he just used at the back of your neck. His rings sent a shiver up your spine, as his hand discovered your skin, it was silly to feel that way, so giddy for his touch but you couldn’t really help it.

You’re very shy by nature, and in situations like this you pry from ruining the mood and asking what the other person is planning to do. Even Harry seemed to take a long time to make his next move, his hands kept swiping through your hair tenderly, as his fingers went in and out from your hair strands.

He divided your hair into three divisions, and gently began bringing them together, the first with the second, then with the third and so on. Your heart was drumming against your ribcage, even more so when you realized that Harry was braiding your hair.

You soaked the moment in as much as you could, his knuckles were grazing your back and his touch made you want to crawl in his lap and hug him. Perhaps you were touch deprived or he was just very huggable. Not to mention that you love physical touch, so his hand at your skin caressing sensitive spots along with the soft breeze that’s helping Harry, made you want to giggle and squirm beneath him.

“No one has ever braided my hair.” You blurted out quickly before biting at your inner cheeks. Whenever someone was nice to you, you’d unconsciously share personal things, but again not only is Harry physically near you, but he seemed like the type of person you can feel comfortable around. Not because he wouldn’t object or make snarky comments like other men. Harry was just not judgmental.

Despite all his grumpiness, occasionally rude attitude and short temper, Harry was so soft deep down. You’ve barely known him for two weeks yet but your experience as a social worker aided you in identifying people and uncovering their mask. After all, Harry was a safe bubble, along with Snow Bun, his hydrangeas and yellow house. It is nothing but a courageous attempt at protecting his peace.

“Why? You have nice hair.” He mumbled the last sentence rather faster and quieter as if he didn’t want you to hear it. He even let out a huff as if he couldn’t believe you.

“The girls used to say that my hair is ugly and weird, and that I don’t look like Princesses.” You felt your cheeks burn at the memory, your childhood wasn’t the best, especially when you had to grow up with these said girls.

Harry glanced down at your locks between his hands, they were so pretty that he had to restrain himself from playing with them all day , they smell like strawberries too and he could swear you look like Rapunzel under the sun. Why were people mean?

“I don’t know, sounds like bullshit to me.” He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat as an attempt to keep his rough demeanor on.

You didn’t wish to recall these days so you focused on the feeling of his hands again, the wind around you and how the soft tug at your strands was almost like a scratch and made you feel sleepy but safe.

His fingers parted your hair but only for a few seconds, before he added the final touches, and secured the end of the braid with a hair tie. He continued to place inside it something that made your eyebrows furrow, you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but you had a feeling it looked nice.

“Okay, now you can help me. The car is waiting.” He strolled to the car without any other words and pretended to continue his work, but not forgetting to give a side glance and watch you look at the mirror and at the blue hydrangea petals he placed in between your hair .

Ever since you arrived at this town, you experienced some harsh incidents that can be considered as ‘bad luck’. First, the landlord wanted to charge you double that of other apartments, until he changed his mind and lowered the price thankfully. Then the town was caught in a huge storm, making all shops close down so you couldn’t visit the grocery store and spent two days eating ramen.

Your job is a whole other story, quitting it allowed you to see things from a clearer point of view and learn from your mistakes. Harry’s advice served you good since if not for him you would be deep down a hole of troubles.

Losing your car was the most damaging, it was the only piece you had from your grandfather, also your first car and held many memories over the years. To see it every day in Harry’s garage made your heart clutch, but you know that you would never give up on it, you just need to save a little money.

All these incidents remind you how you will always be alright in the end. It’s been over a month since the race, and as each day passed you and Harry got closer. Breaking down his wall was not easy; you didn’t even fully reach there yet but there is a progress.

You learned that he has a sister in the UK, he loves engineering but wanted to study Music, he didn’t adopt Bun nor had an intention of keeping him. He found him covered in dirt behind the garage so he took him in until he was healthy enough to give him to someone worthy, yet even then Snowy refused to part from Harry and you have an inkling that it was the opposite.

Harry is a big tea drinker; he has packets that he keeps in both his garage and house. He really loves the honey and cinnamon tea, and drinks two cups a day. However he seems to dislike alcohol a lot and described it as ‘piss’.

Niall is his only trusted companion, they bonded over their origin and even though Niall tends to be playful and exactly what Harry hates in people sometimes, but you don’t recall a day where they didn’t speak to each other.

As you concluded from the beginning, he adores music and is a proud Vinyl collector. He once spent 600$ just to get his hands on a special edition of Elton John’s Breaking Hearts. Every other week, he visits a market nearby where he goes on a hunt for new interesting Vinyls.

Your days with him consisted of laughter, he had a way to make you smile even when it wasn’t his intention. He can still get grumpy sometimes, but he was never mean to you, whenever he got mad, he’d lock himself inside the store and get out after 15 minutes only to continue conversing normally.

He braids your hair from time to time, although you never really told him about the other mean things you’ve been told. You knew his preferences enough to get him lunch or a snack, perhaps a gift even, yet you felt like there was more to know but you had patience and in return you must also give him parts of yourself.

You’re not sure how you managed to be around him this long, he was unnaturally gorgeous, you would stare in awe at whatever he does, you never imagined a person to be this beautiful. You could swear his irises change shades every now and then, that his lips stole the color from cherries, and his body an incarnation of a female and male Greek gods.

Being around him made you flustered but not in a bad way, it was a good feeling that reminded you how you’ll be seeing him every morning, how the blood pumps faster to your heart when he’s near you, when your cheeks burn as he cooks for you or delivers a ‘hello’ message from Snowy with a strawberry filled basket.

He was somewhat your only friend and that was an achievement. Making friends is a nightmare for you, you’re not the best at it nor had good experiences in the past years. You’re not sure if you got better at it or if Harry is easy to be around, perhaps he is ,but that would also mean that there is nothing wrong with you.

Kitty was able to note the change in your attitude, how happier you became, but she refrained from saying anything because she already knows the cause behind all this giddiness and why Harry checked out Pride & Prejudice right after you returned it.

“I don’t mean to intrude my boy, but I never saw you as a classics guy.” Kitty spoke as she registered the book under his name.

“Umm, just wanna see what the fuss is about I guess, no other reason.” He tried to hide the blush in his cheeks by awkwardly scratching his neck and fleeing away after grabbing the book.

Kitty was no fool of course, she was just waiting, after all some clocks need delicate care and attention.

The news of quitting your job earned a broad smile from Harry, he looked even happier than you and kept assuring that you took the right decision. It didn’t take you long to find a job offer, the only issue is that it’s out of town but Harry insisted that you apply to see how it would go.

You watched him hop off his bike and remove the Gucci sunnies, before placing his motorcycle inside and taking off his leather jacket, he glanced at you and was about to speak but furrowed his eyebrows instead at your face expression.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Okay please don’t get mad, but I just remembered that my job interview is tomorrow and I know that this is last minute but I really need to take tomorrow off, I can start working on appointments from now an—“ Your anxious rambling made Harry even more confused that he had to cut you off.

“We all forget strawberry shortcake, what time is the interview?” He replied nonchalantly as he took off his shirt. You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname he’s given you for smelling like strawberries.

“Around one in the afternoon, but I have to get up early because I do not know the town and have to find a bus so th—“

“I’m driving you.” He picked up his crawler and walked to a car he was fixing since morning.

“No you don’t have to, I can—“

“It’s not negotiable, I’ll pick you up at 10.” You mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ as he continued to do his work.

Niall popped in around noon and began rambling about his work, what he ate and what he’s been up to as Harry only nodded and kept his focus on the car.

You liked his presence, he was a nice guy and anyone who Harry likes must be a big deal since it doesn’t happen that often, but it’s safe to say that Bun is fond of biting Niall in his leg , recently he’s been avoiding Harry’s House because of ‘the deadly beast’.

Niall swore that Snowy only seems to like you and Harry, even though he is harmless but he just never clicked with the little bun. You thought that it is such an ironic situation since Niall is the one who gets for Harry, Snowy’s food and essentials from his aunts’ store. Maybe he liked the Bun deep down.

When he figured that Harry is busy and will not give him his attention, he turned to you and struck up a conversation, he was very chatty and you found it hard to keep up with him.

“I had a chicken sandwich and I kept thinking about the ones that Harry make, they’re delicious really.” His Irish accent made you giggle.

“There’s leftover Pizza if you want, I can heat it up?” You asked him in case he was hungry.

“Thank you I should really get back but I’m also bored and I had to pass by to make sure Harry didn’t make you run away yet.” He let out a loud laughter and imitated Harry’s grumpy face making you laugh even harder.

The giggles did not go unnoticed by Harry, he could recognize your voice and laughter anywhere but it was infuriating when it wasn’t about something he said.

He decided to let it go as Niall is a funny guy and can make anyone laugh, that is until he heard Niall asking you a question that made him see red.

“Do you want to go out maybe? I know a nice place..” The rest of Niall’s question was inaudible as Harry’s jaw twitched and tightened.

He strolled over quickly to where you were standing with an oil bottle in his hand and spilled it over Niall’s shirt, it wasn’t a secret that Harry is visibly angry, but while Niall was oblivious you immediately caught up.

“Mate the fuck? If you’re mad unleash your anger somewhere else, I’m still in working hours.” He mumbled angrily as he walked over to his car, taking off his shirt and driving away.

You were shocked at Harry’s behavior; you looked back at him and he had anger radiating off his body. He didn’t even look you in the eye. Your arms were crossed in disappointment, perhaps with a hint of confusion and irritation. He knew it too but acted as innocent as a sly cat. He will not get away with it, you thought.

“Your child like antics seem to get only worse. That wasn’t an accidental spill, you were being rude.” You sneered feeling hot fume leave your body as a reaction to Harry’s act.

He dropped the wrench with a thud and strolled toward you with a scowl on his face that did not appear until you opened your mouth.

He trapped you in the corner making you lightly stumble and lay your weight against the bar stool you usually sit in. His face was inches apart from yours and all the blood in your body was pumping fast.

“Do you see how close I am to you? He must’ve been wishing to get to do that, and that’s my problem. You see I could’ve done worse, I was being nice Shortcake , m’kay?”. His piercing gaze softened after he finished talking and he tilted his head to the side smiling lightly, before backing away and lighting a cigarette.

Harry’s fingers kept tapping against the steering wheel as he awaited outside your apartment building, he showed up 10 minutes after you sent him the address as if he’s a standby chauffeur.

He pinched his puckered lips, glancing every now and then at his painted nails then back to the building gate. It’s not even a date or so but his whole body wants to shiver yet Harry mastered the art of controlling his reflexes.

What he did yesterday was unexpected, he took it too far and was really a child. What’s worse is that he didn’t seem to mind it until he got back home and replayed the scene in his mind. He threw oil on Niall just because he asked you out?

Recently Harry has been acting in ways he does not approve of which is quite silly as he controls his own actions yet sometimes, he feels helpless. He tried to ignore it at first, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Getting mad at the thought of someone dating you can only mean one thing and he refuses to accept it. It’s true that the past month was a change from the boredom he encounters at work every day, but it also allowed you to creep inside of him and lay there, Harry’s afraid you’re already welcome.

Thankfully Niall didn’t catch on, but only because this isn’t the first time Harry has been a jerk, but it also happens to be kind of their own thing, to prank each other. He ponders if he should apologize later on to Niall or just let it be, however If he does then it might reveal the fact that it wasn’t a joke.

Harry would consider himself to have fallen down the rabbit hole.

You and your silly books, adorable soft hair that always reminds him of his strawberry garden, weird colorful clothes that would send a fashion designer into a coma, sweet rambles about everything and your claims on being the best Turkey Sandwich maker. He could go on and on and tell every single bit about you, but he can’t and shouldn’t. He knows better than to allow his desires to take over the wheel, which is why he must find a way to climb back out of the rabbit hole.

He got pulled out of his trance by the sound of the door opening then slamming shut, your sudden entrance along with the wind going in your direction allowed Harry to catch a strong whiff of your strawberry scent making him clutch the steering wheel roughly.

“Am I late? So sorry I didn’t know what to wear and what book to grab for the road.” You apologized as you threw your bag in his backseat, trying not to focus on how he’s eyeing your figure without a single word.

After all, it’s a job interview and being elegant was a must. You spent the entire morning going through your closet and trying on every piece you have, to be a bit fair most of them were decent and suitable for an interview yet it was not your potential new boss that you wanted to impress.

The huffs and puffs paid off as you picked a matching plaid blazer and skirt, you faintly remember the last time you wore this set two years ago which is why it wasn’t a surprise when the skirt turned out to be a bit shorter than expected, it was still decent for the interview but also hugged your body perfectly.

Harry’s eyes nearly bulged out when he saw your skirt, you didn’t even bother to wear tights beneath it and your bare legs were a sight. He still didn’t utter anything and it was making you more anxious.

“Soo how long will the trip take?” You asked with your gaze set down on your feet, avoiding him as much as possible knowing that you’ll blush if you just glance.

“Approximately an hour and a half.” He cleared his throat and fixed his Gucci sunnies as he continued to chew his gum.

You brought three different books with you in case you wanted to pass time, but you hoped that you didn’t have to touch them and converse with Harry instead.

You didn’t realize that it would be much awkward when you are outside of work, initiating a conversation is harder let alone maintaining it. What’s making it worse is Harry’s attitude yesterday and what he said to you.

“I could’ve done worse shortcake.”

That exact sentence kept bothering you the whole night as you tossed and turned. Does he like you or is he just a protective friend?

It would be an exaggeration to assume he has a crush on you yet his actions placed you in a tough position. Would it be unwise to open up the subject? Will you even get the answer you’re wishing for?

All you know is that you’re about to spend half a day with him on the road without work distractions, and god knows what will happen but again the chances are below zero.

“Grab the 2nd CD here will ya?” Harry turned on the engine and began rotating the steering wheel with his palm as he stretched his arm behind your head and looked backwards. The sight of him driving like that made you squirm in your seat. You pretended to be fumbling with the CDs but instead you couldn’t possibly miss the sight of his biceps practically bulging through his leather jacket.

He had light stubble as he hasn’t been shaving for a while and despite having sunglasses on, you could see how focused he is, with a gentle furrow of his eyebrows. His hand on the wheel had protruding veins and you smiled at the new turquoise nail polish.

“The CD has a nice mix especially for road trips, let’s get going shortcake.”

The mixtape Harry picked had one of the best songs you’ve ever heard. He has a talent for picking the right tune in any situation. Knowing him, he probably would’ve bought his Vinyl player with him if not for road bumps.

Emerald star by Lord Huron was playing and Harry raised the volume. For the first time since you left town you dared to look at him.

His side profile was majestic, you can’t see his eyes but you assumed they’re in their usual state, unreadable and unbelievably gorgeous. Some freckles lay against the tip of his nose, the weather has been getting warmer and the more freckles appear on his face the more enamored you become.

His jaw flexes as he chews his cherry gum, and if he likes the song he’d tap with his index finger repeatedly, perhaps bite at the skin of his rosy lips. You can tell that he wants to sing along but you don’t want to push him out of his comfort zone.

“Oh what a jewel are you, and oh what a fool am I

For squandering my love on an emerald in the sky”

The song touched your heart as you listened to pure poetry with a melody, it was something else. Even Harry allowed his dimples to show when he first heard the intro of the song.

“I loved it so much, can we repeat it?” You asked as he immediately turned to you with a grin.

“Haven’t spoken a single word since we set off , and you only talk to me because you liked the song? I thought the cat got your tongue.” He placed his sunglasses above his soft curls and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, leaving the steering wheel without control as he cupped his hands around his mouth to light the cigarette.

“Can you not do that again?” His recklessness was a reminder for you to put on your seatbelt and you did so quickly.

“Do what?” He turned to you with parted lips and you could not tell if he’s acting innocent or is actually clueless.

“This.. thing with leaving the steering wheel and looking at me. You’ll get the car crashed.” Your voice showed how timid you are, but it was only fair when he was being so careless.

He let out a deep chuckle, with the cigarette perched between his lips. “I know what i’m doing shortcake, i’ve been driving cars since I was 14. If I want to get us crashed , I would’ve done that in the race.” He took another puff from the cigarette and let it out through the window.

The reminder of the race made you feel uneasy, not only was it terrifying and life threatening but now that you know Harry more, you unconsciously care for him which explains the pit that formed in your stomach at the mention of the race.

“Besides I can look at you whenever I want” He muttered under his breath and you decided to not answer back at any of these remarks.

“If the garage is getting you good money, why do you race Harry? You could get yourself killed.” Your curiosity took control as you found yourself speaking without thinking first.

It was as if he didn’t hear you or chose not to. The silence was loud except for AngelEyes by ABBA blasting on the radio, you slowly diverted your body towards the door and looked out the window, trying not to feel hurt with his attitude.

“I like the adrenaline it gives me.” He suddenly spoke making you turn back to him.

“It has a certain type of rush that I’m addicted to, you could say I’m an adrenaline junkie. I also love how everyone tries to beat me, but they will never be able to do that shortcake.” He elaborated nonchalantly as if he was speaking about an arcade game not a dangerous street race.

You could not possibly lie and say that you didn’t like it, at some point you discarded the fear and experienced some of the adrenaline he spoke of, but you couldn’t also deny how dangerous it was.

He had you in his lap, with one hand secured around your waist yet still managed to drive with risky turns and the other driver’s attempt at getting him to crash. It looked like any daily routine for him.

“Perhaps you can find a healthy addiction?” You didn’t wish to interfere in his life, but being you, helping others to overcome unhealthy habits is a must.

“Hmm, maybe.” He gave you a toothy grin as if he got an idea right there and then but didn’t want to share.

The road ahead of you was slightly familiar, a few cars were driving along but surprisingly not a lot. As soon as Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys started playing, you rolled down the car window, and let out your upper body as the soft breeze caressed you and allowed your hair to float.

Harry was shocked at your sudden act, he no longer cared if the road was empty or swarmed with cars. Your back was turned to him and your skirt was riding up on the back of your thighs, you had already kicked off your heels when you got in. The door was locked and you still had your seatbelt on, hence why he didn’t freak out, however he had his arm stretched near your waist just in case.

If an officer passed by on his motorcycle, he’d take away Harry’s license. His eyes forgot that the road exists, or that he’s driving, all he could see was you. Your floating hair, spreading the strawberry scent everywhere, the giddy smile on your face like a child experiencing the high of a rollercoaster for the first time or the way you ignored him and pretended that it’s your own world with the song blasting.

You looked like an addiction he could get used to.

‘ You said you gotta be up in the morning

Gonna have an early night

And you’re starting to bore me, baby

Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’

As the song came to an end, Harry’s apprehension took the spotlight as he pulled you in with one swift motion. He can race with many cars cornering him but you push your body outside of the window and the alarms in his brain go red.

You squealed when he pulled you in, as he cut off your little moment with the wind. His questioning expression made you self-aware of what you did making roses slowly creep up your cheeks as you covered your face quickly with your hands.

“Oh c’mon shortcake, that was nice. Did you get your own adrenaline hmm?” He reached his hand and removed yours off your face.

“I just felt like doing it.” You shrugged your shoulders and smiled shyly at Harry.

“Do whatever you want shortcake.”

Time passed easily with Harry. It was definitely not your expectation but you didn’t mind it too. You’ve been on the road for half an hour now, and you had a fight about ice-cream flavors. You’ve been slowly trying to break down his ice wall and now that you’ve laughed together, you thought about taking the conversation further.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked with curiosity reeking from your voice.

“No I will not try your disgusting bubblegum ice-cream.” He grumbled like a child as if you asked him to eat trash.

“No but one day I will make you eat that.” He rolled his eyes at you making you let out a laugh at the thought of him trying on bubblegum ice-cream.

“ So.. is it okay if you tell me how you knew that my ex boss was scamming me?” You swallowed down your throat after asking, as you reopened the subject that made you both fight in the first place.

You can see how his jaw twitched upon the mention of your ex boss, he certainly was not pleased with the topic and testing the waters now seems like a bad idea.

“Sorry you don’t have to—“

“He scammed my sister before you.” He looked at you with a hint of pain in his face.

“We both came here young and had dreams, I was slowly building myself and she thought that volunteer work was a good step. He kept promising her with a job, made her donate even, only to tell her that there is no place for her when the contract was over.” He was trying to hide his anger but to no avail. His nostrils were flaring and he could rip off the leather of the wheel from how tight his grip was.

“She was ambitious just like you, and what he did left her hopeless. Eventually, she didn’t find a job and went back to the UK.” Your heart clutched at the thought of Harry’s sister going through the same thing but with no one to warn her.

“I’m so sorry, I hope she’s doing better now back home.”

“She is, he just didn’t have the right to do so. That fucker… I wish I complied to my urges and left him a bloody mess but back then we didn’t have money for lawsuits.” He let out a big sigh and you felt like an idiot for discussing it with him.

“ Your sister sounds lovely, I’m sorry that happened to her.” You answered softly not knowing what to exactly say.

“Enough of that now shortcake, talk about something else.” It was obvious that he desperately needed a distraction and you felt inclined to provide it.

“We can play Truth or Truth since we can’t do dare in the car.”

“That sounds like a made up game but okay.” You rummaged your head for nice questions that do not cross his boundaries.

“How many tattoos do you have?” He pretended to count them making you roll eyes at him.

“I dunno shortcake, I lost count at 20.” You don’t have any tattoos but you wondered how the hell he was able to handle all this pain.

“My turn, what’s your favorite book ever?” He skipped the song that was playing until he decided on ‘Sesame Syrup’ by Cigarettes After Sex.

“Absolutely not, I’m not answering that.” You shook your head aggressively in disapproval feeling cornered with the question.

“I’m not letting that slide easily but your turn.” He took off his leather jacket, leaving him in a plain white shirt as you glared at him for leaving the steering wheel again.

“How many partners did you have?” Your felt quite bold but regretted it immediately after you saw his smirk.

“Hmm I’d say one for the serious relationship.” He was cheeky with his answer as if you fed his ego by asking. You’re not even sure why you did so, perhaps your curiosity got the best of you.

“My turn. What’s the best place you’ve had sex in?” Your cheeks turned crimson red at his question, as you began picking at your nails. He looked back at you when you took too long to answer and saw how flustered you were.

“Shit did I make you uncomfortable? “ He cursed under his breath as he stared at your flushed face.

“No it’s okay.. I just.. umm “ You swallowed down your throat, and turned away from him as the game was no longer in your favor.

“What is it?” He was confused as to why you suddenly become more flustered than you usually are. You were biting your bottom lip and playing with the hem of your skirt until he finally understood what’s up.

“Are you a virgin shortcake?” His rather correct guess made your face heat up embarrassingly as you allowed your hair to fall and cover your face from him.

“Hey, don’t do that. S’fine you can say whatever you want.” Harry found it cute that you were so red in the face over his question. He couldn’t believe it.

His shortcake was a virgin.

He tried to refrain himself from thinking about unholy things but god he couldn’t. How can he continue to live every day and be around you now that he knows you haven’t been touched.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just embarrassed.” You spoke in a low voice with your gaze set at your feet.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just a stupid social standard, you can wait for as long as you want shortcake.” He tried to comfort you, as he realized how upset you might be feeling.

“It’s not really about waiting; it’s about finding someone. Boys didn’t date me, they went for the popular prettier girls.” Harry almost hit the brake pedal in the middle of the road at your words. The fact that you thought so lowly of yourself because of stupid premature boys made him see red.

“The fuck do you mean by that? Just because some boys are pricks doesn’t mean you’re not worth dating. Fucks sake where’d you get those thoughts from?” He was visibly angry as you held back tears at both your confession and his sweetness.

“I’m not sure..” You couldn’t provide him with an answer when you didn’t even know what was going on in your own love life.

He suddenly turned off the music and reached his hand to caress your burning cheek. “ Hey, look at me.” He ordered softly as he turned your face to him.

“It’s not nice to think like that. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re worth more than sex and there are many people out there who would kill to have you. It was my fault for bringing it up.” His sweet words added to your pent-up frustration as you held back hot tears.

“It’s okay, can we close the subject now?” You’re not sure you can handle any further comforting from him. You feel embarrassed enough as it is for confessing such things.

“Yes of course but remember my words.” He leaned back in his seat and actually set his eyes on the road.

He didn’t know what to feel. The way you underestimate yourself infuriated him, it proves to him yet again that you’re too pure for this world. Never was he so angry just because someone else was not treated properly.

He didn’t want to think whether it’s right or not to feel that way, all he knows is that he’s mad. If only he could talk a little more… but he respects your boundaries and decided to turn on the music again in hopes of cheering you up.

You arrived at the designated building in no time, and you felt a lot better after Harry stopped by an ice cream shop and bought you four scoops of bubblegum ice cream with marshmallow topping. You admired his gesture and you could tell he was trying to make up in his own way.

Even though you were ready mentally and parked right outside of the building, you felt like cooling off a bit and taking a stroll on the sidewalk.

Harry walked out from the car like a movie star with his beloved leather jacket hanging off his shoulder, you fixed your attire and secured your handbag before beginning to walk with Harry by your side.

The building was tall with tainted windows that you could not see through, you can hear Harry lighting up a cigarette behind you to destress as if he’s the one with the interview.

“Harry, I think I’ll just go in. If I wait any longer, I’ll get stressed.” You fixed your hair and stared back at Harry who was leaning against the car.

“Whatever suits you, I’ll wait here.” You gave him a gentle smile and walked away towards the building before you heard him calling your name.

“Yes?” You turned around to face him.

“Read the contract well shortcake.”

Harry has been waiting outside the building for almost an hour now, he thought about going in to check up on you but he didn’t want to embarrass you, for all he knows you could be waiting or doing the interview as he walks in.

He’s had five cigarettes and walked back and forth three times; it could be a sign of anxiety but for fucking what? It’s you who’s doing the interview and worrying about you should be the last thing he’s supposed to do.

In the past month he allowed you to get closer to him, something he despises. But now that he thinks about it, he never remembers being aware of it. He always has his guard on, and the way he let it down naturally scares him.

He’s gotten used to your turkey sandwiches, books around the garage, random hair clips that he finds everywhere, the fallen hydrangea petals from your hair after he braids it, some doodles and heart shaped drawings in his appointment book, and the curious inquiries when he’s fixing cars.

‘ So if you replace this piece with a new one, does it become like those cars in movies.’

’ Can you place a machine inside the car that gives you bubblegum when you press the button’

‘ What happens if you actually replace the oil with pomegranate molasses’

As a mechanic, hearing these questions sent him into a laughter fit, you were something else that he can’t pinpoint, perhaps otherworldly but what he knows is that you are not the type he ever saw himself meeting. He couldn’t possibly believe that someone like you exists.

Maybe he’ll wake up at any second and find himself back home, and that it was all just a fever dream, even his garage, degree and Snow Bun. Instead he hears the sweet voice that he got so accustomed to hearing every morning.

“Harry! I got the job” You walked excitedly to him while being careful to not trip over.

Deep down Harry knew that they would take you, it wasn’t a surprise that you’re talented, not to mention a very fast learner. But to see you so happy with the broadest smile was the real fever dream. He didn’t prepare himself for encountering such a sight nor could he survive it.

“They said that there’s no need to wait a few days, they hired me on spot and you wo—“ You stood in front of him rambling excitedly before he cut you off by pressing his lips against yours and cupping your face with both of his hands.

You melted in the kiss as his soft lips nibbled on yours, your heart was drumming against your chest and it all felt too surreal. You can taste the mix of cherry and cigarettes on his tongue as his mouth lapped at yours and devoured you whole.

Neither of you seemed to want to let go, especially Harry who held on to your waist as he deepened the kiss further making you lean backwards against his arm. Your tongues clashed together and you could feel him smiling.

Harry is not sure he can climb out of the rabbit hole.

A/n: hope you had fun reading!! Please make sure to leave feedback, i’d appreciate it a lot <3

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sorchathered · 3 months

Text

Pride, Prejudice, and Flyboys

Pairing- Bob Floyd x reader

Warnings- Smut, minors dni, language, drinking.

Summary- Bob can’t stand Siren, she’s been the bane of his existence since he met her…but maybe it’s more?

My second post for ibffm 😈 enjoy! Thank you @attapullman for making January all about our favorite WSO!

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He’s pretty sure he actually hates her. His mama always taught him to never say that about anyone but right now he can’t be bothered to be gentlemanly. Siren is by far the most annoyingly perfect person he’s ever met, effortlessly funny, excellent at her job, beloved by everyone she meets; the list goes on and on and Bob wishes someone had at least one bad thing to say about her. She’s even a morning person for god sakes, bouncing into the training room most mornings with coffees for the whole squad, oozing sunshine as she greets everyone.

No one gets it, Bob has always been such a kind soul but ever since Siren joined the squad as Hangman’s WSO Bob’s attitude has been abysmal. They went to Top Gun together and the naval academy, most everyone knew they’d had some sort of love/hate relationship but couldn’t ever seem to figure out just what it was that caused such a rift. She had always been so nice to him but Bob just couldn’t reciprocate. She was perfect. At everything. It all came easy to her, and it brought out something inside Robert Floyd, jealousy? envy? He couldn’t put his finger on it he just knew it was unfair, to her and himself. Comparing himself to someone else was something he’d always done, whether it be someone’s good looks or ability to handle social situations but not once since he’d come back to Fightertown had he questioned his abilities in his job. He’d been slowly becoming more sure of himself here, letting his guard down and integrating himself with the squad, finally feeling like he belonged. Then he stepped into work two weeks ago and there you were, perched on top of a table laughing with Phoenix and Hangman like you were old friends. Phoenix had called him over excitedly, something in your demeanor had caused her to think you two would be fast friends but it didn’t take much to realize that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

He walked up to them anyway, feet feeling like lead and nausea rising up in his throat as you whipped your head towards him. “Bob! Come on over and meet Bagman’s new back seater!”

“Oh we already know each other” you’d replied coolly, and the shift in energy was palpable.

“Siren” he said curtly, nodding in your direction but refusing to look you in the eye.

“I feel like I’m missing something here? You guys date or something baby on board?” Hangman’s gaze was curious, clearly enjoying the drama.

You both sputtered in shock, Bob simply flipping Hangman the bird and turning on his heel to find his seat with what could only be described as disgust on his features.

“Absolutely not! We just uh, we knew each other during the academy and top gun the first time, I don’t really know what it is, he just never really seemed to like me.” You looked down at your feet now, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Drills went well the following week, you and Hangman seemed to make a perfect team, it had been suggested you become his WSO after the uranium mission, Maverick had been impressed with his flying from the beginning but knew Hangman needed to learn to be a team player. That’s where you came in, and to say the two of you were thick as thieves was an understatement. It was like you and Jake had known each other all your life, and almost sibling like camaraderie between you.

———————————————————————

Friday finally comes and everyone gathers at the Hard Deck, celebrating your joining the team and the end of a long week of training. You are the life of the party, playing pool and laughing over whatever show you and Fanboy have been binging, seamlessly fitting into the group like you’d been there all along.

Bob is beyond annoyed. He tries to fix his face but the permanent scowl that resides there won’t budge; he’s never had much of a poker face and if he’s honest he doesn’t really give a shit if he’s hiding his disdain. Do you just get along with everyone? Everyone seems to constantly be singing your praises and it’s like nails on a chalkboard having to constantly hear your name as the topic of conversation. Phoenix startles him from his thoughts as she sits down next to him with a beer, following his eye-line to confirm he is in fact staring at you.

“Ok Bobby what the hell is the problem? I’ve never seen you like this, Siren enters the room and it’s like someone shit in your cereal. She seems super nice to me so tell me what I’m not seeing?” She and Bob have come so far the past few months, gone from teammates to best friends and she is thrown for a loop seeing him in such a state.

“Do you really not see it? I mean come on she’s annoying as hell.” Phoenix doesn’t buy it, giving Bob a chastising glare and he finally folds. He knows better than to fight with her like this, she always wins anyways.

“I- ugh fine. She’s just always rubbed me the wrong way. I’m sure she’s fine truly, but she was constantly talked about in our academy days, she set the standard and no one was ever as perfect according to our instructors. It just feels like I’ve been competing with her all of my navy career and to have her here when things have been going so well felt like the rug yanked out from under me. I don’t want to hate her, but every time I see her I’m reminded of all the things I’m not and it drives me insane.” He slumps down in his chair clearly embarrassed and Phoenix feels an overwhelming amount of sympathy for her friend.

“I think if you actually tried to get to know her you’d be surprised to find that she thinks the exact same thing about you.”

Bob looks at her like she’s slapped him, shock written all over his features. What the fuck did she mean? You felt like you were in constant competition with him as well? He rolled his eyes at her after looking at you across the pool table, there was no way in hell he was feeling an ounce of sympathy for you tonight. You were a top gun nepo baby, your father’s name synonymous with the likes of Maverick and Iceman. Everything had come easy to you so why the hell Nat would think anything different was beyond his reasoning.

“I appreciate the need to keep the peace Nat, but I can’t say I buy it.”

She just shook her head and let it be, she’d truly never seen Bob like this before and it looked like it would take a miracle to get the two of you to sort out your issues.

As the night begins to wind down you make your way over to Bob’s table, a little liquid courage had you deciding it was now or never; time to find out why the soft spoken man everyone loved seemed to hate everything about you.

You plop down into the seat next to him, bringing him to the present as he looks up with a groan when he realizes it’s you.

“Can I help you Siren?”

Eyes the size of saucers at the tone in his voice you suddenly wish you could evaporate into thin air, why did he always have to be so damn mean? You’ve never been anything but kind to everyone, it just didn’t make any sense for him to treat you with so much vitriol.

“I need to know what I did.”

“Pardon?” He looks up with a grimace trying to process the situation at hand.

“What did I do Floyd? Seriously, I have never been anything less than friendly to you all these years and you treat me like I’m shit on the bottom of your shoe. What gives?! Just tell me what the hell I did so I can apologize and maybe we can get past this.” You’re shaking a little and your voice had carried more than you’d planned, noticing that your group behind you seems to have taken an active interest in what’s happening between you two.

“I’m not doing this.” Bob lets out a dark chuckle, eyes full of poison sliding from his seat, making his way to the door.

You look around behind you at your squad, beet red with embarrassment and frustration. How dare he?! God Robert Floyd was such a prick and you weren’t giving him the opportunity to treat you like this for one more minute. Slamming your beer down on the table you stalked after him towards the door, following him out into the parking lot.

“You don’t get to just walk away from me like that asshole! I asked you a question and I want a damn answer.”

He stops short in his tracks, was busying himself with unlocking his truck when he spins around to face you.

“God you really can’t just let this shit go can you? You really want to know why?”

“Yeah I really do”

He runs his hand over his face now, malice clearly etched in his features.

And then he pulls you forward and slams his lips to yours.

You were pretty sure you were dreaming…or maybe you’d died because this certainly couldn’t be happening in real life right? Robert Floyd, bane of your existence for almost a decade had you pressed up against the side of his old GMC Sierra, thigh wedged between your legs while you ground down on him and let him lick into your mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to, he felt so so good and the noises and moans the two of you were making were bordering on obscene. You thanked whatever diety was watching out for you that he had parked in a dark corner in the lot, crashing waves muffling most of the noises coming from you both. You arched your back to press closer to him and he began his descent from your jaw sucking a mark onto your neck as your hands threaded through his soft brown hair and tugged. God he was so hot, how had you never noticed he was so hot? He smelled amazing and he was an insanely good kisser, but of course you’d always thought he was perfect at everything; part of the reason he frustrates you so much if you’re honest.

He pulls back to look at you, has the gall to look smug at the fact that he’s worked you up like this and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Your foreheads are pressed together, and you feel him whisper against your lips

“Y/N you need to stop me now if you don’t want this, otherwise get your ass in the truck, we’re going back to my place.”

You feel so dumb right now, he’s rendered you speechless and all you can do is nod at him and slide into the bench seat of the truck. Shit, you really are about to go home and let Bob Floyd fuck you senseless.

———————————————————————

The drive isn’t long, maybe ten minutes but you can barely focus on anything but his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into you, just close enough to tease but not enough to give you what you want. He pulls into the drive roughly, slamming the truck in park and yanking you out of the door, hands roaming everywhere as he tries to herd you into his little townhouse.

Once he has the door closed it’s a frenzy of teeth and tongue, pawing at each other to try and get the other naked as quickly as possible, you barely make it to his bedroom, self control non existent. He drops you down onto his mattress and you pull him forward, rubbing your body all over the length of his, desperate for any kind of relief for your aching core. He slides a hand up to press into the column of your throat as he spreads hot filthy kisses up your chest towards your mouth.

“You drive me absolutely insane, can’t even sit in the same room with you without wanting to fuck the attitude out of you, s’that what you need pretty girl? You need me to fuck you stupid?”

You can’t help but let out a pitiful moan and buck up into him, you never thought for a minute you’d be in this situation with him but now that you have him like this you know you’ll never want to do anything else.

“Tell me what you want Y/N, you’ve always got so much to say but now you can’t even string together a sentence? You poor little thing you need this so bad don’t you? All you gotta do is ask baby I’ll give it to ya.”

You close the gap between the two of you, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue into his mouth, rubbing your needy wet pussy all over his thigh and whining at the feeling, so good but not quite what you need.

He presses your hips down into the mattress stopping your ministrations and reaching up to catch your chin between his fingers.

“I know you heard me if you want it sugar you ask for it, I’m a patient man we can sit right here all night and I won’t touch you again until you’re begging for it.”

Chest heaving, pupils blown out full of lust and hair splayed out across his pillows he thinks you may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but he’s just fine teasing you until you give him what he wants.

You look up at him ready to be defiant but fail miserably, his perfect hair is a mess, glasses askew and his body feels like heaven on top of yours.

You refused to fold so easily, he’d been mouthing off at you all night so it was time he got some of it back, sliding your feet to the mattress over his thighs you flipped him onto his back on the mattress, your manicured fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look at you.

“You’re so bossy Bobby, maybe you’re the one who needs to be fucked stupid hmm? I wonder if any of those little tag chasers you’ve brought home have ever taken control of you like I can? Think you can keep your pretty mouth shut and follow orders? Lay still like a good boy and let me ride your cock?”

He blinks up at you now, he had a smart ass remark all ready to go but the second you ground your pussy down on him he was putty in your hands, couldn’t begin to articulate how hot is was to let you take the reigns, so he simply put his hands behind his head and grinned up at you.

“Go ahead baby, use me. I’ll be good for you.”

That’s all you needed, sliding him between your folds and teasing him by grinding your clit against him. He was big, and your thoughts scattered thinking about how next time you wanted him in your mouth, God you hoped there was a next time.

He had said he’d be good for you but he didn’t account for just how good it would feel, attempting to stay quiet by balling his hands into fists and biting his lip until it felt like it would break the skin.

He might go insane from this, he’s used to relinquishing control in the air, but in his intimate life he’s always demanded the upper hand, the need to be in charge overpowering the ability to submit. But here you are, stripped completely bare for him and riding him so slowly damnit he’s never been more turned on in his life. He’s not blind, you’re absolutely gorgeous; he’s seen the way guys check you out but the rivalry between you both was always so palpable it never occurred to him to want you like this.

You’re playing with your nipples and grinding into him slowly, moans spilling from your lips and Bob knows he can’t take much more of this, needs you splayed out so he can fuck you like he wants. He watches you close eyes, throwing your head back and he takes the shot, gripping you by your hips and flipping you both again. You cry out as he snaps his hips harshly into yours, grabbing at both your wrists with one of his big hands to pin them above your head, leaning in to catch your lips with his, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. He planned to make this quick and dirty, a one time thing to get you out of his system but the more he hears your little moans and whines and kisses you while your pussy pulses around him, he lets his mind wander to how it might be to have you like this whenever he wanted, lets the domesticity of having you in his bed and his arms make him impossibly harder. Why didn’t you two get along again? He couldn’t find himself coming up with one reason that made sense as you let him abuse your pussy with his deep thrusts. You couldn’t hold a coherent thought anymore, clenching down on him after he hit that spot that had you seeing stars you suddenly gushed on his cock, surprising the two of you as he slowed his movements, slack jawed and in awe of the fact that you’d just squirted all over him.

“Jesus Christ such a good girl, pussy’s fucking drenching me” he ground out, yanking you up by your throat to suck on your tongue as you moan and gasp into his mouth, you’d never done that before for anyone; not even when you were getting yourself off and you wanted it to happen again and again. “Oh Bob” your cried out, pushing yourself down on him to meet his hips, the two of you working in tandem to please each other, somehow the situation evolving from a one night stand to something more. You knew now that you’d had a taste of him like this you’d be addicted, how could you ever be satisfied with anyone else when he was fucking you like his life depended on your pleasure?

You wrap your legs around his waist and begin to grind into him, neither of you caring much about control anymore. It feels too good and the need is so strong to chase your release. He’s pulling you close to him now, pressing your chests together and sucking a mark at the spot behind your ear, whispering praises about how good you feel, and you can’t think of anything but how beautiful he is and how badly you want him to cum for you.

You’re close again, so close to the edge and he can feel it, leans in to kiss you once more, lightly wrapping his hand around your throat. You hold his gaze as he tells you he wants to come with you, the pressure from his slender fingers restricting your airway so deliciously euphoric. You can’t say anything, too scared of the implications and the intimacy of it all so you just nod as he runs his hand between your sweat slicked bodies to rub tight circles against your clit. Black spots cloud your vision as you arch into him, calling out his name in pleasure like a prayer until you begin to go hoarse; he groans as you clench down on him and he thrusts one more time with a shout as he comes for you.

You both lay wrapped in each other, lost in thought trying to catch your breaths. All too soon he pulls out but before he heads for the bathroom he stops to push a sweaty lock back from your forehead, and you can’t help but catch his hand and kiss his wrist. He grins that stupid crooked smile at you as he makes his way to the bathroom and you collapse back into the sheets.

“Oh my fucking God” you think to yourself with a jolt; “I’m in love with Robert Floyd.”

———————————————————————-

While you come to that startling realization, Bob is having his own meltdown once he gets the bathroom closed. What the hell had he gotten himself into here?! He’d had it all planned out on the drive over, the both of you would just fuck the tension out and try your best to get along for the duration of the time you had here. He hasn’t accounted for just how good it would be, how when the time came for you to separate all he’d wanted was to wrap you in his arms and let you snuggle into him. He didn’t think he’d catch feelings.

Stepping out of the bathroom he catches you trying to shrug yourself back into your clothes, digging around for your phone in the bottom of your purse and you startle a little, straightening up and giving him a little smile.

“I uh, sorry I don’t want to be in the way so I’m just gonna grab an Uber and head home.” You look lost, not like your typical bubbly persona and his heart clenches in his chest knowing you are worried he wants you to go.

“You- you don’t have to go honey, ‘sides I think we might need to sit down and talk about all this.”

He sticks his hand out for you to take and leads you back to his bed to sit down and you take a shaky breath, trying to look anywhere but at him. He hears you whisper something, and turns your face to his hoping you’ll say it again.

“I asked you uh… what does this mean, what are we doing?” you said quietly, nervous energy radiating from you now, you’ve never felt off your axis quite like this but then you’ve also never realized you were in love with your enemy before. Was he really your enemy though? Or had he always just been out of reach? You knew you’d admired him, wished you could be friends but now- now it was something else entirely.

His expression was soft, something truly beautiful in the openness he was emanating as opposed to the wall he always put up when you were around. Taking both your hands in his he sighed, he still couldn’t quite find the words but anything was better than continuing to pretend he didn’t want this.

“I think I’ve had this all wrong y/n. I had it in my head that I hated you, that you were someone to compete against and I set myself up to be a complete asshole to you so I didn’t have to admit what it really was. Some of it was jealousy I’ll admit it but it really was so much more. I want you, more than just one night and I know, I know I have been an absolute piece of shit but if you’ll let me I’ll spend as long as you’ll let me trying to make it up you.”

You feel lightheaded, heat sending tingles up your spine and your body moves of its own volition, surging forward to kiss him. The clarity of it all is blinding, how could the two of you gone this long and not seen it? You were perfect for each other, wasted so much time riling each other up when you could have been doing this. You feel a giggle bubble up from your chest as you pull away from him now, the corners of your eyes pricking with tears as he quickly presses kisses to wipe them away.

You spend the weekend wrapped up in each other, ordering food and watching movies, letting Bob fuck you on every surface of his house and covering you in what feels like love.

————————————————————————

Monday morning he drives you back to your apartment to shower and change before work, which results in the two of you nearly being late because you can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other. Stepping into the hangar to take your seat you’re greeted to a sea of shocked faces, rather than making snide comments or cutting eyes at each other the two of you are in great spirits, even going so far as to let Bob pass you a granola bar from his pocket because he’d been two busy railing you earlier to eat breakfast.

Hangman is the first to open his mouth, because of course he can’t leave anything alone for too long. “What the hell is going on here? Is it Opposite Day or some shit? You two are being way too nice to each other and it’s freaking everyone out.”

You just grin at him and pat him on the arm, “We talked out our issues Jakey, it’s all gonna be smooth sailing from here.”

Phoenix doesn’t buy it for a second, pulling Bob over by his ear, deciding that she’ll force it out of him.

“What kind of twilight zone level bs is going on? Friday night you two were at each others throats and we didn’t see you again after that…oh my god. OH MY GOD!” She shrieks out and Bob clamps a hand over her mouth, begging God to suddenly make his best friend mute for the rest of the day, ears and cheeks turning bright red as he shushes her.

“Nat goddamnit I’ll tell you everything but I swear to God you have got to keep your shit together.”

He makes her wait until lunch, wants to be away from prying eyes and ears knowing it would spread like wildfire if the wrong person found out.

“I fucking knew it! I knew it wasn’t just some rivalry bullshit, oh my God are you guys together now? Do you love her? Ahhh this is so amazing!” She squeals as she digs into her salad, bouncing in her chair like a little kid.

“First of all I don’t know. It feels like we are, but I’m leaving that in her court. I’ll do whatever makes her happy. Second of all that’s none of your business woman let me figure this out on my own time, it’s still new. When I need a wedding planner I’ll let you know” he says with an eye roll and affectionate shove to her shoulder, he truly does love having her in his life, even if she is a serial meddler.

He catches you from across the mess hall, you were stealing fries off Jake’s plate and laughing over one of his stupid jokes. Feeling his gaze on you made you feel warm all over, you looked up at him and winked in his direction and just like that he was a goner. How had he missed out on this for so long? He’d had you on every surface in his home and he was still so insatiable, could barely hold it together when you texted asking if he could come over after work to have dinner.

———————————————————————

Pulling into your driveway after what felt like the longest day of training so far, you began to peel off your flight suit and top leaving you in just your bra and underwear, scrolling through the delivery app for something to eat when you heard him knock at the door.

You swung it open to let him in, turning on your heel to check what time the food would be in.

“I ordered from that Thai place we had lunch at a few weeks ago, got a little bit of everything so I just figured we could share.”

“That sounds like heaven baby but I think I need a snack before it gets here.”

And that’s how you ended up spread out on your kitchen island, Bob’s face buried between your thighs as he ate at you like his life depended on it. You had come undone more than once and he refused to let you go, you tasted so sweet he couldn’t get enough; lapping at you nearly had him getting off just knowing he was pleasing you. You felt too sensitive, every nerve in your body on fire but unable to stop bucking up into his face begging for him but not knowing what exactly you were asking for. He pulls back to grin up at you, beautiful blue eyes full of mischief as he lets out a chuckle at how far gone you are from just his mouth.

“Come on baby girl, give me one more, you sound so pretty I know you’ve got one more in ya. Taste so good sweetheart, I need you to cum one more time.”

He dives back in and the damn breaks as you felt your third orgasm wash over you, release soaking his face and he finally lets you up, helping you off the counter and into his arms. You felt boneless, legs trembling and barely able to stand as he kissed you, running his hands all over your body and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You grazed your hand along the inside of his flight suit tied at his waist and he groaned deliciously into your mouth.

“Hold on baby, let’s feed you some dinner and then I’ll let you ride me ok? We’ve got lots of time to make up for but I want you to have enough energy to handle it”

He was such a cocky son of a bitch but you knew now he could back it up. You’d sat in his lap on the couch while you shared dinner, taking turns feeding each other and watching a movie. He didn’t know if he could ever let this go now, everything about you had him obsessed and despite manhandling you not even an hour ago he was nervous as hell to seek out the answers he needed. What if this was just a friends with benefits situation? He knew he’d been an absolute ass to you and couldn’t blame you if you just wanted to fuck around but he so desperately wanted more.

You’d noticed how quiet he had gotten, movie forgotten as he was spaced out lost in thought. Nudging him with your elbow you laugh at the mock annoyance on his face, he was so beautiful and you still couldn’t believe the two of you were really here now.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours Floyd? You seem like you’ve got some heavy thoughts you’re struggling with.”

“Ah- it’s nothing sugar, I just spaced I promise I’m here it’s ok.”

You don’t believe him for a second, so you decide to prod him a little more. You pull his face in with both hands and kiss his cheeks, then nose, then press a soft peck to his lips.

“I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be baby, pretty please tell me what’s wrong? You bat your eyelashes at him and he melts into a puddle. You’ve got him totally wrapped now and he’s pretty sure he’d burn the world down to keep you looking at him with that sweet look on your face.

“I know we haven’t talked much about what this is and I don’t want to pressure you but I don’t know that I can be as casual about this as I’d hoped. I’m pretty sure I’m hooked on you y/n.”

Oh shit, you were definitely swooning. Like old timey love story swooning. How had he not realized you were crazy about him too?! You wound your arms around his neck and giggled as you pressed kisses all over him.

“I’m completely and totally yours Robert Floyd, now make love to me all night. Let’s catch up on all that time we wasted being idiots when we could have been together all along.”

He had to laugh at that, the two of you really had been complete fools, he’d been an arrogant ass, too prideful to admit that you were everything he’d ever wanted. Later he’d take you apart all night if you’d let him and then bring you coffee in bed before work the next morning. Fill your car up with gas, make sure you drank enough water and love you like you’d never dreamed you could be loved. It hadn’t started as some fairytale love story but it was turning out to be something even better, something lasting. Something more.

Tagging-

@attapullman

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@nervousnerdwitch

@mygyn

@purelyfiction

@djs8891

@86laura11

@shanimallina87

@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@sailor-aviator

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #international bob floyd fucks month #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun bob #bob floyd smut #bob floyd fan fic #robert bob floyd x reader #bob fucks #pride and prejudice

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vrmxlho · 1 year

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hii kira !! do u have any hcs for sae abt how he would be as a bf?

SAE ITOSHI 糸師冴

if sae were a love trope he would 100% be belated love epiphany

"i never realised how much i loved them until they were gone." type beat yk

like pride and prejudice, except he's elizabeth and you're darcy ??

where you confess first and he rejects you but once you're not near him he realises that he really did love you

or when he saw how loaded you were, you be the judge (kidding)

y'all already know i think he's a good cook. like he was in spain for ages you bet he picked a few things up. cuz idk about spanish men but ik most italian men know how to cook and well.

he pours all his love into everything he makes, probably his love language honestly.

but he'd never let you know he's cooking for you because he cares

"you look like a ghost have you been eating properly?" "oh, no. unfortunately, i haven't found much time to cook lately..." "how bothersome. am i gonna have to take you all the way to the hospital when you faint from anemia?" "but i'm not even anemic..." "you will be if you don't eat your spinach." "..." "you know what. since you're so incapable i'll just cook for you." "excuse me??"

forgive him, he's just a bit of a cunt, but he loves you i promise

(also if you didn't know fun fact: preparing a homemade meal for someone is akin to confessing your feelings to them)

he's not much for PDA in fact in public he has his same, stupid, emotionless, deadpan face that is so punchable (affectionately?)

but when you're at home he'll find any excuse to lean his whole bodyweight on you

he also loves leaning in to kiss you and then reaching behind you to grab something or whatever, just to leave you flushed and stressed the fuck out

annoying asshole

he also gets very touchy when tired, if you're sleeping next to each other he tends to end up hugging you close to his heart by the time you wake up

he may not seem it but he would genuinely do anything for you

he tends to ignore most messages/texts/emails unless they're super important but he'd reply to you the second you text him

or even if it's a silly tweet

@you: there are 2 many ppl at this café 😞 @officialsaeitoshi: send me your location i got you your usual @you: ayo, how did you have it prepared n everything 😭 @officialsaeitoshi: spidey senses

he also has the most deadpan, sarcastic humour known to man

he's horrible (just my type)

nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted

beware!!!

he is the no.1 gossiper alive, he knows everything about everyone's business even if he looks like the type of person who'd never think of anyone other than himself

somehow he's both at the same time

he could go hours talking about this random guy in his club who's actually the secret son of a drug lord and who ran away from home to save himself from imminent death...

what???? how does he know this?

i'm pretty sure he doesn't know either, anyway

he loves his lil self care night routines

you both sitting on the sofa talking about life (actually it's just him talking and you listening but whatever)

sae itoshi was an evening person. not because he felt most productive then. and not because he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the city. but because he enjoyed his night routines with you right next to him every second. you'd sit on the sink sill as he gently passed a finger with clay on it over your face as you kept talking about your day. "and then when i went to get coffee there were just so many people at the café it was such a hassle. this guy–" "shush. do you want clay in your mouth?" he kept swiping the remaining clay mask on your now stationary chin. once done he lifted you and walked to the sofa. this was no new routine. this was the only way he was able to unwind. with you next to him, just talking about the little, almost meaningless things. "i read somewhere that your coach is having an affair is that true?" you didn't know why you kept instigating him. it was late and you knew if he began talking now he'd only finish once the sun rose or your wake up alarm rang. but seeing him so animated was a rarity so you had to take advantage anytime you could.

now for how he confessed

at first when you confessed he rejected you and didn't think much of it at all

until he started noticing the little things about you, he started obsessing with every bit of you

how you looked, how you dress, how you style your hair

but also how your under eyes crease when you smile

how you're very picky with your food, especially dessert, but you'd eat anything if someone handmade it for you

how you're so patient when you tutor even if the person is being a dumbfuck

after obsessing over everything you did for about a day or two he was sick of the weird, nauseating feeling in his stomach

it had been about three days since the confession. being rejected right on the spot, especially in that cold manner was painful to say the least. but you were sure you had gotten over it. and you hoped with all your heart that he too had forgotten. he had just stood there as you finished telling him how he made you feel and how you had liked him for a while now. he had a horrible scowl on his face, arms crossed and an uninterested posture. you already knew what the answer was when you were done but it hurt so much more when he finally confirmed it all. so it was surprising when you saw sae march up to you as you ate your lunch with your friends. he had the same horrible scowl on his face from before. and you could feel your stomach drop as he pulled your wrist in a gruff manner. careless. he didn't care for you. "itoshi what are you–" he finally stopped once you were in a quiet corner behind the main building, away from curious eyes. "we need to talk." "about what?" "i couldn't sleep." "ok..?" "i couldn't stop thinking about you." "oh. i'm sorry if my confession made you uncomfortable. i didn't mean for it to bother you so much." "yes. it's so bothersome. now every time i see you with anyone but me, it hurts. i can't stand hearing about anyone but me, from you. i don't want you to think of anyone but me."

and then you were just like 😧🫣😏🤩

if you think rin's dramatic just WAIT until you talk to sae he's insane

THE BIGGEST drama queen (i hate him)

although i do think he is secure about himself and knows you wouldn't ever hurt him

i feel like he does have abandonment issues (a bit)

like imagine going through your teen years without family in a foreign country, you'd feel isolated no matter how many friends you made or how nice your host family was

he tries not giving any external reaction so you barely notice at first but every time he sees you with someone, looking a bit too friendly, he always feels his heart tighten

he's very gentle when kissing you

it's not like he's super strong or anything (mans is tiny)

and it's not that he's scared to hurt you, he just doesn't wanna appear too possessive or anything

favourite places to kiss you: why do i wanna say your waist, also knuckles

no idea why i just feel like if he weren't allowed to kiss your lips for any reason he would kiss there

but he definitely needed you to initiate the physical contact when you first started dating

speaking of which

dates with sae

100% movie nights, or just staying at home in general

mans hates going out if it's unnecessary

although, if you want anything he'd do it for you in an instant

or when he's feeling extra energetic

he'll take you dancing; this can either be ballroom dancing (which makes you cringe a bit but it's fun), salsa or literally just clubbing

i think he secretly loves clubbing at techno clubs (is that what they're called?) he hates commercial music cuz it just gets so repetitive

ideal vacation destination: somewhere isolated

like a random island in greece

or some forest in south america

idk man

he absolutely hates tourist destinations, tourists are his no.1 worst enemy

that's why you always end up going on holiday at random times of the year

"hey love, take a few days off next week. we're going to bora–bora." "it's the middle of march..." "not in bora–bora." "that's not how it works..." "i've already bought the tickets and spoken to your boss so you really just have to start packing."

now about pet names

he generally doesn't like them and thinks they're cringe and annoying

which they can be if used excessively ig

he tends to call you by a nickname or just your name

he only uses pet names when he wants something or has something to tell you that he knows you'll be angry/annoyed about

like the fact he planned a whole trip to bora–bora in middle of march and didn't tell you a thing 😞

however, if you're open about how much you hate him doing things without involving you he will change his ways

he's a quick learner after all ❤️‍🔥

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m3r1m4r5u333 · 4 days

Text

I'm getting a bit tired of the fandom's overwhelming consensus that Eddie is surely gay even thought there are plenty reasons why his relationships with women would not have worked out.

Personally bisexuality makes more sense to me, and I feel like that's what the show is trying to show, too. And since the show already had "closeted gay man in a "straight" marriage, I think it would make more sense to go for Bi Eddie.

Because Eddie is different from Buck even if he's also bi. Religion. His family's expectations. Marriage. Parenthood. And I also think - earlier realization of sexuality even though he remains closeted. Fun fact: that's what bisexuals do! Even in supportive environments, we stay in the closet the most and the longest.

I'd really like for Eddie to be bi.

Eddie's the type of bi in disguise that the world is full of and nobody notices because the marriage with a woman would be a true one.

This matters because it seems like there's this odd idea that these bisexuals are doing fine in the closet. Why talk about them?

The reality is actually that according to just about every study, bisexuals are distinctly not fine.

The biphobia and erasure comes from all directions. People expect and understand the concept of heterosexuality and homosexuality well enough. Bisexuals...?

It's called the Double Closet. Expectation to either be straight, or gay, and if you're anything else you're just confused.

Also, bisexuals may not just have shitty parents. They also end up falling in love and marrying people who are biphobic. Fun times.

Anyway, I'm listing my reasons why Eddie being into women and men would make the most sense to me:

He agreed with Shannon that sex was never the issue for them.

His marriage to Shannon failing? He was young, the pregnancy was unplanned, he was pushed to marry a high-school sweetheart at young age and then facing the stress of trying to figure out how to raise a special needs child with her.

He went to a war, and returned traumatized. Trauma tends to make everything even harder.

Their mutual lack of trust and communication.

Meddling parents.

Perhaps... Being a closeted bisexual dating a woman who does not know.

Because that's one way to keep a partner at a distance - by hiding a part of yourself.

Losing a loved one, being afraid to love again.

Being pushed to date too soon after grief and trauma.

Falling for a male friend who he thinks is straight.

Being pushed to date someone else.

Oh and the panic attacks - Learning that his friends have died,

being shot by a sniper and thinking Buck was hurt,

ending up in a rapidly developing relationship with someone who is falling in love with him...

When he just likes her... but feels pressured to keep the relationship going anyway.

Because his son loves that person, and Eddie is programmed to go for marriage in every relationship he ends up in. Catholic guilt... They love marriage.

Family expecting him to be straight. Family pushing him to date despite him saying he isn't ready.

Being totally new in the dating world. No wonder he talks about performance anxiety and feeling like he needs to perform - his heart isn't in it.

Also he's probably never even been on dates. How to act on dates? He's not a teenager anymore, it's embarrassing and awkward to fumble and not know the dating culture.

Also when we first meet Eddie he's only been with one woman. Women aren't carbon copies. Sex can be intimate and awkward with someone new. Of course he'd be nervous.

Then finding out that his girlfriend was almost a nun... and being closeted bisexual!

And so on. Nothing actually says the man MUST be gay, and I feel weirded out by the insistence that he surely is gay.

I feel like... Maybe the show expected this, that people would dismiss his interest towards women, and wanted to make the queer community check their prejudice?

Because that episode which focuses on Eddie's fight club and has that super queer coded ice skating scene??

It's Hansel pushing Gretel away... How gay! Expect then we find out that Hansel was only scared that she would miss out an huge opportunity by staying with her. A role in the big leagues.

And that joke about Bobby being a hockey player and a figure skater??? And saying

"Who says you can't do both?" while a piece composed by Paganini - also famous for mastering both guitar and violin, plays.

The shot shows Buck AND Eddie, and Hen with Chimney looking and pointing at them in amazement.

Saying "We'll google for photos later!"

Maybe the implication of

"Who says you can't do both" being referred to isn't just

"Who says you can't do both women and men?"

.... but ALSO "Who says you can't write both of these characters to be bi?".

#911 on abc #911 buddie #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie 911 #evan buck buckley #911 abc #tv: 911 #eddie díaz #911 speculation #who says you can't do both

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in-my-feels-probably · 8 months

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Sirius x pureblood!reader inspired by ivy by Taylor swift where reader’s parents r extremely against sirius because of his reputation

Ivy

Request: Sirius x pureblood!reader inspired by ivy by Taylor swift where reader’s parents r extremely against sirius because of his reputation

and: sirius black x pureblood!slytherin!reader where they have known each other since they were younger but drifted for obvious reasons. the drift causes resentment in each side which leads to snarky comments and lots of sexual tension in their later hogwarts years lol. eventually they get into an argument or something and the reader insists she is the same person she was when they were younger where as sirius is like no ur an uptight b. anyway this leads to sirius almost challenging her to prove herself to him and so even tho she is freaked out when he shows up outside the slytherin common room one night and says they are sneaking out to see a muggle concert she has no choice but to oblige. it ends up being an amazing night for both of them and they realized the love they had for each other as children truly never died.

Hi! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to these requests, and I hope it’s alright I combined them. They worked really well together. Ivy is one of my favorites by Taylor, and it was so fun writing this based on that song.

Also, the reader isn’t actually a pureblood, just raised by a pureblood family. It just worked out easier for me to write this that way, hope that’s alright, too. Anyways, thank you again for being patient! I hope you enjoy!

(Warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of Sirius’s home life, insults, guilt, let me know if i missed anything)

—

How's one to know?

I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones

In a faith-forgotten land

You should have known what you had with Sirius was never going to last.

Growing up as the daughter of two prominent pureblood wizards in high society, there was certain expectations of you to follow in their footsteps. Except, you weren’t exactly pureblood yourself. You were just a baby when you were orphaned by the beginning of the war, and your parents just so happen to not be able to have children themselves. And—although you were the child of two halfbloods—they thought if they took you in young enough, it wouldn’t really matter. They’d raise you as your own, and you’d be no different than the rest of the pureblood children.

But there were whispers.

They were never confirmed by anyone, but your family could still hear them. Whispers of your true birth—which meant that all your life, you had to be on your best behavior. And that was quite hard to be on when Sirius Black was your best friend. At least, he was your best friend.

You weren’t sure what he was to you now.

You were very close in your first few years at Hogwarts. Even when you were sorted into Slytherin, he overlooked it. Although he had his opinions, he didn’t look at you any differently—just like you didn’t look at him any differently when he was sorted into Gryffindor. You were always by his side, even when your parents hated it, so what did he have to judge you for? If you could overlook all his flaws and caveats, he would welcome yours.

It was no secret that your parents hated Sirius. While they had a certain respect for Walburga and Orion—who seemed to like you—they just couldn’t stomach Sirius. Regulus, they liked. He was a good boy, and he never got into trouble or brought shame upon his family.

Sirius was another story.

But you never cared. You didn’t buy into the blood purity prejudice parade that your parents and their friends tried to sell you.

But, unlike Sirius, you weren’t so loud about your distaste for it. Despite wanting to stand up to your parents about it, you couldn’t. There was already a lot depending on you, and you were too afraid to disrupt the small sense of normalcy you had in your life. Letting it go was too much change, and you didn’t much like change.

There was a time in Sirius’s life where he found your reserved manner charming. It was one of your cute little traits that made you who you were.

There was one evening when you received mail from your parents at dinner, and he came over and snatched it out of your hands before you could stop him. He was joking of course, but as he read over it, his face fell.

“This is the third letter in a month your Mother has sent telling you to stay away from me,” he mused, a sad smile on his face. “They really hate me.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d had a conversation like this, and there wasn’t much you could do to ease his pain. All you could do was take his hands in yours, squeezing them tight.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. They’re set in their ways, there’s nothing I can do to change that. But you know I don’t hate you. I never will. And I’ll never let them stop me from seeing you. You’re my best friend, and I’ll never let them change that. One of these days, I’ll muster up the courage to tell them that to their faces.”

He just shook his head, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he changed the subject. “It’s alright, darling. We’ve got plenty of time to piss off your Mother and mine until we actually need to do something about it.”

But as the war came closer, and it was time to start making bold choices, he grew tired of always waiting for you to speak up. There wasn’t much you could do about it, either. You loved him more than pretty much anyone else in your life, but even that love couldn’t squander the fear you felt when being with him meant breaking too many rules.

Slowly but surely, you started losing your best friend.

Your relationship came to a standstill the first evening back to term after Sirius had spent his second entire summer locked up in his house. He couldn’t see anyone, most definitely not you. Neither of your parents would have allowed it—punishment for Sirius, and a regulation for you.

“You could have owled,” he teased when you found each other after dinner, but you could see the hint of sincerity in his eyes.

“You know my Mother never would have allowed it, and your Mother never would have let you read it even if she did, Sirius.”

He sighed in frustration. “For once, I just wish you’d stand up to her.”

“Is that so?” You asked, pulling him into a corner away from prying eyes. “You know as well as I do why I can’t do that. I told you, one day I’ll figure it out. But you can’t ask me to do it now. I’m not brave like you—”

“You are brave like me. It’s a wonder you weren’t sorted into Gryffindor,” he laughed, but you could see the sadness in his eyes.

You moved to wrap your arms around his waist, settling your cheek against his chest. You could feel him heave a breath, but he wrapped his arms around your shoulders anyway. You stood in silence together for a moment longer, gently swaying back and forth before you spoke.

“I’m sick of arguing with you over this,” you murmured into his chest. “I really fucking am.”

Sirius gripped you tighter. He felt like letting you go meant he was doing far more than just physically letting you go. It was more than that—it was letting you leave him. And he wasn’t sure he could stomach that just yet. But he knew…you both did. He’d released his grip a long time ago. Anything now was futile, like grasping for straws.

Still, he held you tight against him. He would allow himself this. He didn’t have to let you go just yet.

“Me too, love. Me too.”

In from the snow

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

Tarnished but so grand

How unfortunate that the time you were most cross with each other was the time you found each other the most attractive.

It was ridiculous, really—how pretty he was.

He grew into himself over the years, confidence quite literally radiating off him. He had some attractive friends too—who were generally friendly with you—but none of them in your opinion held a candle to Sirius. There was just something about him. And while Sirius showed interest in other girls, he just couldn’t seem to shake you.

By Fifth Year, you were in a quarreling stage of your relationship.

You’d had many nights like the one you had after dinner, and they hadn’t all been so cordial. There wasn’t two people in the whole of Hogwarts more stubborn than the two of you. And you found many reasons to butt heads like rams.

It was just who you were to each other now.

No longer best friends, but people who knew too much about each other. People who knew all the right ways to piss the other one off. You know all of each other's likes and dislikes—anything that made the other tick.

In his absence, you grew more sure of yourself. Less afraid to speak out about things that bothered you, and less afraid to stand up to those who had something to say about you. Recently, Sirius had been trying his luck with you. He couldn’t help himself. Pissing you off and seeing your reaction was like a drug to him, and he was hooked.

“Look at you…practically fuming,” he smirked when he messed with your cauldron in Potions. “It’s kinda hot.”

“So mature, aren’t you?” You snapped, shooing him away from the table.

He snickered as he walked back to his own work station, and he left you alone for the rest of class. You spent the remaining time trying to fix what he had ruined. By the time the period was over, you were seeing red. Sirius casually strolled out the door behind his friends, and you marched after him in a fury. You grabbed him by the back of his cloak, spinning him around.

“What the fuck is your problem, Black? What did I ever do to you?”

“What did you ever do to me?” He asked sharply, before taking a breath and forcing himself to relax. “When did you get so uptight, love?”

He tried to turn to walk away, but you grabbed his forearm, yanking him back toward you. You held him tight, your fingers making indentations on his skin. He looked down slowly, carefully watching where your body was meeting his. You took a breath, easing your grip once you realized just how close to him you had gotten. His friends carefully watched a few feet away, silent as they waited for Sirius to speak.

You cleared your throat, running your thumb along his reddened skin before dropping his arm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to grab you that hard.”

He could barely hear you from how quiet you were speaking. He just shook his head, looking at you with curious eyes. He knew he had overstepped, but was too proud to say anything. So he just shrugged you off, rubbing at his arm.

“You’ve got claws…shame you didn’t use them when I needed them.”

He turned around and left before you could get out another word.

But I don't, I just sit here and wait

Grieving for the living

You weren’t speaking by the time you found out Sirius had run away from home.

It broke your heart when you found out. You may have been one of the only people in the world who understood what he was going through, down to the exact same rhetoric your parents would use to try and convince you to be good children—and the punishments they’d dole out when you didn’t listen. You felt nothing but guilt, knowing he needed someone to save him…and you weren’t there.

Instead, he had to save himself.

But more than anything, you grieved for him. Not for his life, but for the one you could have had with him. When you were kids, you thought you’d be best friends forever. Side by side, always there when the other needed them.

But now?

Now he was having to make a new life for himself. He had new best friends by his side, who took better care of him than you ever could have. And you grieved that missed opportunity.

You missed him.

You figured it wouldn’t take much—to take him back into your life. All he had to do was ask, if he even still wanted that. You’d had your share of fighting, and would much rather go back to being strangers. That was much easier than passing him in the halls every day and wishing he was someone else to you.

Clover blooms in the fields

Spring breaks loose, the time is near

What would he do if he found us out?

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

He's gonna burn this house to the ground

You had one night separating all those days of fighting.

You weren’t even sure how it happened. You’d had a particularly bad day, and you weren’t in the mood for your regularly scheduled spat with Sirius. You’d skipped all of your classes you had with him, and he of course had taken notice.

He found you down by the Black Lake, where you’d go to get some peace and quiet. You could hear the leaves crunching under his boots, turning around to see him coming down the hill. You sighed, putting your head in your hands.

“Not in the mood today, Sirius,” you said over your shoulder. “Go home…please.”

He shook his head, coming to sit down next to you. “No—no, I don’t think I will.”

You didn’t have it in you to fight with him. Clearly, he had noticed your absence. That was something, wasn’t it? It was quiet for a moment as you watched the water from the lake lap onto the shore, before you felt a warm hand on your knee. You looked over to see Sirius gazing down at you, a mild look of concern on his face.

“Not gonna fight me for sitting down? Not gonna shove my hand off your knee?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “You can do whatever you want with your hands. I don’t care.”

Sirius smiled to himself, knocking his shoulder with yours. He didn’t move his hand, instead tracing his thumb absentmindedly back and forth along the curve of your knee as he spoke.

“You weren’t in class. It’s not like you to break the rules—”

“I break plenty of rules,” you snapped, feeling your skin heat underneath his palm. “But how would you know? You barely talk to me anymore.”

He let out a laugh, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest. “I know you well enough, Y/N. And I know you don’t break the rules. Too uptight, maybe.”

“Or too scared,” you retorted, slapping his hand. “But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

He let out a laugh, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Merlin, you really are a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said without hesitation.

Sirius seemed surprise for a moment, not expecting your retort. But after a moment—in his usual fashion—he grinned at your snark, turning to face the shoreline. You turned as well, watching the light glisten on the water as the sun began to set behind the trees. With Sirius so close to you, you couldn’t help but ponder the life you had once had with him. It wasn’t that long ago that you’d find yourself shoulder to shoulder with him, trying to choke down the butterflies in your throat as his skin brushed yours.

“Do you remember when we were kids?” You finally managed to say, letting out a breath. “When we were little, and you owled me after your Mother had punished you? It was the first summer she wouldn’t let you leave Grimmauld Place.”

Sirius stiffened next to you, clenching his jaw. But after a moment, he gave you a slight nod of acknowledgement.

“I had barely learned how to use the Floo on my own, but I knew it was my only way to get to you. I managed to sneak out before my parents found out, and I came to you as quickly as I could. I found you out in the gardens behind the house. Do you remember what you said to me?”

It took him a long while to speak. He didn’t dare look at you, keeping his eyes on the lake as you waited for him to speak.

“The ivy grows thick here,” he finally said, the slightest waver in his voice. “Mother can’t find us.”

You nodded, brushing your knee against his. “That’s right. I sat with you in that garden all night. And, Merlin, I was scared out of my mind. I knew I was in for a world of trouble when I got back home to my parents, but I didn’t care. That didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was you. I came for you…I always came for you.”

You suddenly felt a burning anger brewing in your chest, and you pushed Sirius away. You quickly stood up, leaving him bewildered in the grass next to you. He followed you up, managing to catch your wrist before you could march back up the hill.

“Calm down!” He shouted, his grip unrelenting. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

You scoffed, a dark chuckle pulled from your chest. “You wanna know why I wasn’t in class? Because I didn’t want to see you.”

Sirius stuttered, unable to form a response. He watched as angry tears clouded your eyes, but you quickly wiped them with the heels of your palms before they could fall. You took a grounding breath, watching him stare helplessly back at you.

“There it is…that’s the look. I didn’t want to see those eyes staring back at me, looking at me like I’m the one who changed. Like I’m the one who suddenly decided to abandon you and choose the wrong side. I never did that, Sirius. Why do you treat me like I did? I’ve always tried so hard to be a good friend to you, even when it would get me nowhere good. You’re the one who changed, not me. And you can’t handle the fact that I’m not like you—that I can’t bring myself to be as bold as you.”

He shook his head as he stepped closer, his voice assertive and stern. “I never said that—”

“You didn’t have to!” You spat, ripping your arm out of his hold. “That look in your eye is enough.”

You turned away, running your hand down your face. Grief and anguish bubbled in your throat, burning your esophagus as you choked down a sob. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve your tears. It was quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from the lapping of the Black Lake and the ragged breaths coming from you both. You turned back to him, ignoring the ache in your chest when you saw his pained expression. He was standing so still—like if either of you moved, you’d both crumble, and there’d be no one left to pick up the pieces to put you back together.

“I’m still me, Sirius,” you managed to say, your voice sincere. “Why can’t you see that?”

Sirius looked at you for a long while. You shifted under his gaze, debating bolting up the hill before he could catch you. But then, he stepped closer. He gently reached up, running his thumb along your cheek. You sharply inhaled, waiting for him to speak. His voice was soft—forgiving.

“I’ll believe it when I see it…all you have to do is show me.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, quickly walking back up the hill before you could even get your feet to move.

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

You didn’t see Sirius the entire weekend.

Granted, you mostly stuck to your dorm, but you didn’t even see him at meals. He was either sneaking food, or waiting for you to leave until he sat down for his dinner. You almost could have thanked him for it.

It was an indescribable feeling—thinking about Sirius.

Your night at the lake had certainly given you a lot to think about, and it often overwhelmed you. You tried your best to distract yourself, never letting your thoughts of him creep in for too long. Sirius—in usual Sirius fashion—eventually forced you to confront him, at least once he finally forced himself to confront you first.

You were by the window in one of your secret hideouts when an owl came to the window with a note in its grip. You raised a brow in confusion, plucking it from the bird and watching as he flew back into the night sky. How did anyone know where you were, or how to find you? You immediately recognized the handwriting as you unraveled the small piece of parchment, almost in disbelief as you read the words.

It read,

Y/N,

I’m starting to believe you…but it’s time you showed me. Prove me wrong, darling. I very much want to be wrong. Meet me in the corridor in front of your Common Room in ten minutes, and don’t let anyone else see you. You say you always come to me—so come. Please.

Yours,

Sirius

You chuckled to yourself in disbelief. He was so formal, even doing something as simple as sending a note. That was just part of his upbringing, you supposed. He never did anything without a little style. You shook your head, crumpling the note and shoving it into your pocket as you stood up. The Slytherin Common Room was at least a ten minute walk from your hideout, and you figured Sirius had already started walking to meet you there.

You wasted an entire minute with your feet planted on the floor before you finally forced yourself to move—and then you were really moving. What am I doing? What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t shake the question, thinking it the rest of the way to the corridor when you turned the corner, running straight into Sirius’s chest.

“Shit,” you mumbled, steadying yourself by holding onto the wall.

Sirius grinned, reaching a hand out to steady you. “What took you so long? I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”

“I don’t see why we had to meet out here,” you said, motioning around to the dungeons. “You knew where I was—and I won’t ask you how you knew that, although it’s a bit concerning. But you knew where I was, so why not just come to me? Or ask me to come to you?”

He shrugged, looking around. “Maybe I wanted to see what your life is like down here. Maybe I wanted to see what mine could have been.”

You nearly laughed. Sirius had come from all the way up in the mighty Gryffindor Tower to the depths of the castle to see you, all the way down in the dungeons where the Slytherin Common Room resided. The very air was colder, the Black Lake seeming to loom over the windows.

You watched as he looked around, leaning against the wall yourself. “Is that important to you—me being down here? Why I’m down here, and why you’re not?”

Sirius tore his gaze from the castle walls to look at you, his face contemplative. He spoke after a short while, his voice soft.

“No,” he finally decided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I thought it was, but now it seems…minuscule.”

You smiled to yourself. “Big word, Sirius. Did your fancy education teach you that one? You know—the same one I had?”

He chuckled, watching you with curious eyes. Finally, he pulled his hand out of his pocket, along with two pieces of paper. He held them out for you to take.

“My cousin Andromeda got these for me,” he grinned as you read over them. “She can’t use them anymore, and she figured I would want to. David Bowie is coming to London tonight. He’s a muggle musician—”

You snickered, nodding. “I know who he is, Sirius. You forget which one of us isn’t actually a pureblood. I know my parents don’t let me do much, but I do know some things. Like how Bowie is actually a wizard, but chooses not to practice.”

Sirius’s eyes widened. “What? How do you know that?”

“Remus told me,” you shrugged, laughing when his eyes opened even wider. “I have Charms with him. He’s smart, he knows things. I figured I’d have the best chance making it through the class with him close by. I do actually talk to people in your House other than you, you know. Is that so surprising?”

“He’s never mentioned you,” he murmured, looking a little bewildered.

“So? Are you jealous?” You joked, but by the way the corner of his mouth quirked, you were beginning to think he actually was. “Enough small talk, then. Why are you here, Sirius? What do you want?”

Sirius seemed to snap back into himself, his grin returning as you passed him back the tickets. He slid them in his pocket, turning his attention back to you.

“You’re coming with me.”

It was your turn to look bewildered. You stuttered, shaking your head frantically as his grin widened. He was enjoying watching you squirm, that much was clear.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, darling—live a little,” he mused, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “You have nothing to worry about, I’ve got it all taken care of. You just have to come with me.”

“And why would I do that?” You asked, shrugging his arm off your shoulders.

Sirius’s grin widened. “Because—you have to. You can’t say no.”

You shook your head, scoffing. “Why not?”

Sirius sighed, stepping closer and placing both his hands on your shoulders. He held you steady, looking you in the eye as he spoke.

“I want to be wrong about you, I really do. I won’t lie and say I haven’t missed you, because I have. I really have. We used to get in so much trouble together. And, lucky for you, I’ve pretty much perfected the art of evading trouble. Really, I’ve got quite the knack for it.”

“I’m waiting for the point, Sirius,” you said, looking towards the Common Room door. “I’m tired, and you’re making me stand out here in the cold.”

“It’s not my fault it’s dark and dingy down here,” he mused, jumping back and laughing when you tried and failed to swat at his arm.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a modified map of the Hogwarts grounds. He turned away from you as he murmured something you couldn’t quite catch, turning back around to show you the now open map. Your eyes widened as you watched pieces of the map move on the page, unable to stifle your shock when you found both your names printed just in front of the Slytherin Common Room door.

“What—what is this?”

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you here, so don’t tell Remus or James that I showed you this,” he said, taking the map from your hands. “But this is our map. It’s enchanted, clearly. We’ve been working on it for years. It shows us every secret passageway we’ve found to get in and out of Hogwarts, and it tells us where everyone is so we never get caught if someone is coming. It’s how I found you tonight.”

“Invasion of privacy, don’t you think?” You asked, but you were too enamored by the map to really care.

You heard him chuckle, looking up to see him grinning at you. “Don’t flatter yourself, darling. This is the first time I’ve looked for you on it. You’re not that interesting.”

You glared up at him, placing your hands on your hips. “You’ve got twenty seconds and I’m going inside. And I’ll let you know in the morning whether or not I’m going to hex you for this.”

Sirius smiled, looking at you with a glint in his eye you hadn’t seen in a long while—at least directed at you. There was a feeling so distant but familiar brewing in his chest, and he pushed you one last time to listen to him. He had to try.

“There’s that fire in you. It’s time to use it. You say you haven’t changed? You say you’re still the same girl I’ve always known? Prove it. You say you always come for me? Then come. I’ve got the map, and I can get us out of the castle to the concert and back without anyone even noticing we were gone. All you have to do is come with me. Trust me, just this once. And I’ll get on my hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness if you show me the girl I knew isn’t truly gone. Come with me, and I promise I’ll make it up to you—for however long it takes. I’ll change.”

He reached for your hands, taking them in his. You let out a sharp breath, but you didn’t pull away as he looked at you with soft eyes.

“Or…you can go through that door and up to your room, and I’ll leave you alone. No more teasing, no more snarky remarks, no more late night talks—nothing. This’ll be it. I won’t come find you…I’ll let you go.”

You could feel your chest tighten as he spoke. It sounded so final, and it was making your head spin. The thought of Sirius truly leaving you alone and never talking to you again made you want to crawl into a pit and never come out.

You couldn’t quite tell why.

You’d done nothing the last few months but argue and bicker, always bitter over the choices the other was making. It was clear to anyone on the outside watching you both that you hadn’t been the same for a long time. In a way, Sirius was right—you had changed. For the better? That was up for you to decide. But he had changed, too. And you were starting to think you had been wrong about him. Maybe he had changed for the better, and he was trying to show you.

“But know that I don’t want that,” he murmured as he squeezed your hands, pulling you from your thoughts. “Not at all. I want you back. I want you to come with me. Just say you will. Please.”

It was now or never. He watched with a look of hope on his face as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words to say.

Finally, you let out a breath, squeezing his hands. “Okay…okay, I’m in. Let’s go.”

Sirius couldn’t have grinned wider. It actually looked like it hurt, how hard he was smiling. The little laugh he let out was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

He squeezed your hand in his, and whisked you off down the corridor before you had the chance to protest.

So yeah, it's a fire

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the goddamn fight of my life

And you started it

You started it

After a very confusing path of twists and turns, a couple Floo’s, and a very sketchy bus you had to sneak your way onto, you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with Sirius in a large crowd of people, waiting for the concert to start. It was loud and chaotic, a cloud of smoke hanging in the air. Sirius—of course—was adding to it, a cigarette in his hand.

You looked around, a feeling of unease settling in your stomach. There was so many people. So many strangers, and it was all a bit overwhelming.

Not only that, you couldn’t shake the feeling that at any second, someone was going to find you and bust you. Someone was going to tell your parents that you had snuck out of school—with Sirius of all people—and you were going to face the punishment of a lifetime. Someone was going to spread the word that you were out with the most popular blood traitor in the country, and you were going to put both him and you at risk, all because you couldn’t let him let you go.

Sirius must have noticed your look of concern, because he nudged you in the side, bending down to you ear so you could hear him. “What is it, love? Nervous?”

“No,” you shook your head, though you knew you weren’t convincing anyone with that look on your face. “It’s just—really crowded in here. And loud.”

Sirius nodded, giving you a warm smile. You were being so brave. It made his chest flutter, and he didn’t quite know what to do with that feeling. He pulled you toward him and placed you in front of him, letting his arms wrap around your shoulders. Your back was to his chest, a comforting warmth coming off him.

“This alright?” He asked, running his thumb along your arm.

You nodded, smiling to yourself. You didn’t have much time to sit in the feeling, because the house lights went down, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. You could feel Sirius shaking with excitement behind you, letting out whoops and shouts as the stage lit up. You looked over your shoulder up at him, smiling at the look of pure joy on his face.

The whole concert went by in a blur.

You sang along to the songs you knew, swaying along to the music as you watched. It was an entrancing performance, but it didn’t hold a candle to the concert Sirius was putting on behind you.

He knew every single word, buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t keep still, jostling you around as he kept you close and away from the ruckus of the crowd. It was adorable, you had to admit. He bent down every once in a while, checking in on you and making sure you were alright. During the slow songs, he swayed with you back and forth, laughing when you stumbled over his feet.

As you slowly filed out of the building amongst the crowd after the show ended, Sirius kept a tight grip on your hand to make sure you didn’t get seperated. You couldn’t deny the buzz that went through you every time he squeezed your hand, having to take a breath every once in a while to calm yourself. When you finally made it back on the street, Sirius was quick to bring you along the winding path that brought you back to the castle.

You barely had time for small talk, having to rush to get back to the dungeons. You had hardly spoken at all until you found yourself back in front of your Common Room door, a silence throughout the castle—except for the portraits on the wall, who Sirius threatened to hex if they didn’t keep quiet.

You turned to Sirius, a small smile on your face. “Happy now?”

He chuckled, nodding. “You have no idea.”

“I think you had more fun than anyone else in that crowd,” you mused, taking a seat on the step that led up to the door. “But maybe that’s because you were all I could really hear. Singing isn’t one of your talents, Black.”

Sirius placed a dramatic hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know it is one of my many talents. You were lucky enough to witness it.”

You chuckled, a comfortable silence falling over you both. This was good. This felt familiar. Bickering in the way lifelong friends do, not friends who are teetering over the edge of never speaking again. You were afraid of what going with him tonight was going to do to you both, but this was good—it was worth it.

In a very unusual turn of events, Sirius was—for once—having trouble finding the right words to say.

There was so much he wanted to say—so much he needed to say—and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to. There was peace between the two of you. A calm that was rare, and he was too afraid to disturb it.

You were smiling at him.

A genuine smile, and he would have rather been caught a thousand times than see it fall. So he didn’t speak. He just offered you a hand, helping you up from the step.

“You should get some sleep,” he said quietly, stepping back once you were settled. “If we stay out here any longer we might actually get caught by a Prefect, and I know you’ll punish me far more than they would.”

You chuckled, nodding. You didn’t want him to go. You found yourself wanting to come up with random topics, just so he could stay and keep talking to you. But instead, you walked up to the top of the steps, stopping just in front of the door. You looked over your shoulder, smiling once more down at him.

“Goodnight, Sirius.”

He smiled back, turning to leave. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

And now I'm covered

In you

One thing you had forgotten about Sirius was how much he likes to sleep in.

You found yourself looking for him at breakfast in the morning, before you remembered how late you had gotten back to the castle. Sirius was absolutely not a morning person, and he certainly would have been in bed all morning into the early afternoon.

You had to swallow your nerves, taking calming breaths as you ate your food. He’d come to you when he was ready. He certainly had the means to with the map.

All you had to do was wait.

And sure enough, he found you once again down by the Black Lake. You could hear him coming, snickering at the obnoxious tune he was whistling as he came to sit next to you. You looked over at him, raising a brow as he gave you a grin.

“It’s two in the afternoon, Sirius.”

“I’ve been busy,” he shrugged, letting his knee rest against yours. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good—” You joked, but he was quick to interrupt you before you could turn the conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

You could feel your heartbeat quicken, swallowing hard. You forced yourself to remain calm, swallowing your nerves. Of course you had been thinking about him, too. But you waited for him to speak, letting him go first.

“I’ve decided that you were right,” he admitted, locking eyes with you. “I am different. But so are you—and I think that’s a good thing. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.”

“And what prompted this decision—last night?” You asked, your voice soft.

He shook his head. “Last night was just the trigger, I guess. I think I had been noticing signs for a long time, and I just didn’t know what to do about it. Lucky for me, you’re too stubborn to let me be wrong.”

You couldn’t help but smile. With a breath of courage, you took his hand, fiddling with one of his rings.

“I’ve decided something, too.”

He grinned, watching as you twisted the ring around his finger. “Oh, you have?”

“Yes, yes I have.”

“And what is that?” He asked, leaning closer ever so slightly.

“I’ve decided that the next time my Mother sends me another semi-threatening letter full of veiled threats that she tries to cover up with hints of love, I’ll at least consider telling her to piss off. And—assuming you're ever mentioned in that letter—I’ve decided I’ll tell her to piss off about that, too.”

Sirius stilled, grabbing onto the hand you were using to twist his ring. “Are you serious?”

He deserved a little teasing, after all the things he had said to you over the years. He was just as stubborn as you were, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it all without a little taunting—even if the sight of his smile directed at you made you want to forget about everything and forgive him completely. You chuckled, nodding.

“What’s she gonna do? Disown me? She’s spent her whole life keeping my birth a secret, I highly doubt she’d risk all that effort just to get me to stop talking to you. Which—and I’m just assuming, here—you’ve decided you want to do, right? Keep talking to me?”

And then Sirius did something you hadn’t seen him do more than once or twice in all the years you had known him.

He blushed.

Flushed cheeks and all, turning his face away so that you couldn’t see him. He chuckled to himself, turning back to you after a heavy sigh. He hooked an arm around your shoulders, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Yes, you dickhead. Of course I do,” he said, his voice muffled into your hair.

You smiled to yourself. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but turn around in his hold and wrap your arms around his waist. You really couldn’t help it.

Sirius was all consuming.

Once you got stuck on him, it was practically impossible to shake him off. He was like the ivy that grew along the patch of walls in the far corner of his backyard. You could hide in him forever. He could keep you completely safe and away—at least that’s what it used to feel like.

And, Merlin, you wanted it to feel like that again.

“Good,” you smiled into his chest, pulling away to look up at him. “So, when can I expect you on your hands and knees begging for my forgiveness?”

“Piss off.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, once I started writing I just kept going and it got a little out of hand. This is kinda long, so hopefully that makes up for the obscene amount of time it took me to post this. I hope this is what you were looking for! I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for sending the request in :)

#harry potter #marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black angst #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #the marauders #marauders x you #taylor swift #ivy

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wasjustred · 1 year

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Winter Weather Warning - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: A blizzard comes barreling through the area and you find yourself stranded———in Larissa’s quarters.

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smut – fingering and cunnilingus (reader receiving); Larissa gets an orgasm

Word Count: ~6.3k (oops)

Author’s Note: Whaaat? A fic? From me? Finally?? I hope this was worth the wait! Thanks to all you lovely folk who’ve been so patient with me; there’s been a lot going on in my life so I’m very appreciative of you all. Feedback, as always, is welcome and encouraged! ♡ ﹠. a special thank you to my beta readers @sapphicsbeloved and @zephyr-is-tired ——— sending you many kisses and finger waggles for your help! 😙🥰 ╱ AO3

You try not to begrudge the snow for falling when and where it will. It’s pretty, you have to admit: soft, and flurried, sweeping over the stone grounds of Nevermore without prejudice. You peer out from your window and watch scattered groups of students chase after each other gleefully, faces turned up toward the sky like small purple sunflowers in their school uniforms, arms outstretched and reaching. The low angle of the sun against the trees suggests dusk will fall soon, just enough light still to cast long, excitable shadows across the ground.

A smile prods at your lips as you turn away from the window and further into your classroom with the intention of setting up for your last class of the day. You’d originally planned to guide them through a review period for an exam next week, but with the state of the sky and the weekend finally here, you decide a film might instead be just what everyone needs; you can afford to push the exam back another day, and really, they’ll be gunning for extra time where they can get it anyway. You know your students well enough.

When the kids begin filing in, you delegate tasks without explanation, the room abuzz as you instruct one student to close the blinds and a few others to adjust the desks just so. You catch a glimpse of the world down below before the windows cover up: Steady flurries still, but nothing that worries you. The kids’ thrill at spending the period in relaxation when you reveal your plan to them is enough to distract from any further thoughts on the weather, anyhow.

The hour passes swiftly as you sit in the back grading papers, every so often glancing up to take stock of the room. Everyone files out just as fast at the sound of the bell and calls out wishes for a good weekend while you’re left to rearrange the room back into its original state. You take care of the desks first, pack your own items up, decide to leave the windows for Monday since it’s dark out by now, no longer any ribbons of light sneaking through the cracks where the blinds don’t quite meet glass. A nice bottle of wine, a fire, maybe a few candles and a good book… the night is promising, and you run through a mental checklist of how many comfort items and practices you can employ as you wander down to the front entrance, bundled up tightly in your coat to brave the cold.

But when you reach the landing of the long staircase, the sight that greets you is not promising in the slightest: the outer floodlights cast a muted glow over what had been a harmless shower of snow, now furious gusts of heavy flakes collecting faster than your brain can entertain. There has to be at least a couple inches out there already, and the realization that you’ll have to navigate through the winding, hilly roads of Vermont in the middle of this elicits a groan. The treeline is hardly visible amidst the dark and the snow, and the roads are likely no better off: the town tends to skirt right around Nevermore when salting the streets. This drive’ll be a perilous one at best.

“Absolutely not.” The sound of Larissa’s disapproval startles you into a sharp and over-dramatic gasp, every muscle of yours tensing at once when her voice comes from just behind you.

“Jesus, you scared me! ‘Absolutely not’ what?” You turn to her with features marred by confusion - once the surprise has melted away - and tilt your head up, taking a small step back to balance yourself when you realize how close she is. She looms over you in a way only she can: regal and overwhelming–––yet cordial all the same, offset by the soft floralness of her perfume. The fact that she’d reached you there without a sound would likely be unsettling if it were anyone else. With her it’s just… attractive, the slyness of it all. The mischievous grin she bares in response to how you jump doesn’t help.

“There is absolutely no chance I’m letting you drive in that.” This elicits an incredulous scoff as you peer up at her, arms lifting at your sides like a pair of very exasperated, very amused wings.

“Letting me? What am I supposed to do? Break my back sleeping on the floor of the library? No thanks.”

“Don’t be silly,” Larissa tsks, pressing her lips together in an all too familiar demonstration of thought. She’s quick with her next words, though, and something tells you there wasn’t much thought to be given at all. “You’ll stay with me.”

The firmness with which she says this, the matter-of-fact tone that has always so easily slid off her tongue, leaves no room for discussion. You gape at her but Larissa’s already swiveling on her heel and walking in the direction of her office as though it’s been decided once and for all, no questions asked. She throws a crooked finger over her shoulder and gestures for you to follow, the sound of her heels now echoing through the mostly-empty halls.

You wonder, frivolously, how in the hell you didn’t hear her the first time around.

You rush after her with quick steps in an effort to keep up; Larissa’s long, unhesitating strides carry her farther and faster than you can move without some effort. The view of her backside, however, is not one that merits complaint. You follow the curve of it up until you come upon a landing you’re not familiar with, nearly knocking into Larissa when she halts abruptly and turns towards you for the first time since this little journey began. She looks almost unsure of herself now, eyes flitting about rather than meeting yours. It’s one thing, you know, to flirt in passing; to brush arms when you’re both chaperoning students in Jericho; to trade amused, knowing glances across faculty meetings. But it’s another to invite you into her sanctuary, a decisive and loaded crossing of one of the last lines between the two of you.

“If you’d prefer, I believe there’s an empty dorm room I can have made up for you. It’d be no problem.” She finally looks down at you long enough for you to read what’s going on behind that mask of hers, typically pristine and perhaps a touch righteous: she’s trying to give you an out, trying to relinquish control for a second before she commandeers your night, and she’s worried she’s already gone too far by bringing you up here in the first place.

But you’re not going to say no to a night at Larissa’s side, especially when the potential for a warm fire and a glass of wine or two is so high.

Especially when it’s her asking.

“No, it’s alright. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Not at all,” she’s quick to blurt out, shaking her head. “I simply wanted to make sure you knew you had the option, that’s all.”

With that, Larissa turns again and begins the ascent to what you assume is her hall–––until you’ve reached another landing with only one door, and she pushes it open to reveal an entire apartment all her own. It’s very her, this place: Warm, shining, elegant. The living room is awash with low, simmering lights, furnished with a mix of dark leather and velour, a towering bookcase taking up the whole of one of the far walls with an accompanying reading nook. She walks you further into the threshold and eases the door closed behind you, hovering silently as you take the space in. There are a few framed art pieces that you promise yourself you’ll review more thoroughly later on, scattered vases of flowers and various, high-hanging mirrors.

What truly draws your attention, however, are the photos strategically lining the walls, clearly taken at various points in Larissa’s life: A small platinum-blonde girl carefully posed before a Christmas tree with two very proper looking hounds on either side of her, all very regal and staged except for the wide, nose-crinkling grin on the girl’s face; a beach trip with the same girl, slightly older now, arm thrown over her face as she squints against the sun and into the camera - and a pair of kids that look to be around her age chase each other in the background; teenage Larissa suited up and on horseback, smiling proudly as a judge strings a blue ribbon around the horse’s halter; graduation photos from Nevermore; a trip to the Scottish Highlands, it looks like, a twenty-something Larissa soaked to the bone but grinning out at the miles and miles of luscious greens like she couldn’t be bothered less by the weather. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of her.

Eventually Larissa brushes behind you, laying a hand at your waist in passing as she toes off her heels and begins the process of lighting the fireplace.

Her touch leaves an emphatic tingle in its wake.

“I didn’t think my wall was that particularly exciting,” she muses, glancing over her shoulder at you. You duck your head and turn from the wall, following her lead as you slip out of your shoes and place them next to her own.

“I always like to see what people were like before I knew them. It’s intimate.” Larissa’s gaze softens almost imperceptibly before she returns her attention to the fire, adjusting the logs one last time and replacing the latch on the brass screen.

“What do they tell you, those pictures?” She wipes her hands and comes to rest against the edge of a couch, gazing at you as you shift on your feet and consider her question. Her eyes remain soft, but there’s something else lurking there behind the blue now: Curiosity? Interest? Desire, even? You can’t read it for sure, so you clear your throat and move back to the photographs on her wall, crossing your arms over yourself.

“Well, .. this one,” you start, gesturing towards the Christmas tree, “screams rich.” Larissa snorts loudly and tilts her head in a way that says you’re not wrong. “Probably an only child - at least at the time, otherwise there’d be other kids with you.” Her smile gives nothing away this time, but you charge ahead, brushing your fingers against the frame that holds the beach between its borders.

“This isn’t an American beach, that much I know.” You choose not to elaborate, allowing your ‘Americanness’ to speak for itself. “But I can’t tell if you grew up going there or if it was a special vacation, maybe visiting family… ?” you trail off as your gaze drifts over to her questioningly. She just shrugs, and you click your teeth in mock disapproval before moving on.

“You look happy here,” you observe, allowing your hand to drift over the photo of Larissa in her English riding gear. “Unforced. You enjoyed competing, maybe preferred your horse to people.” This one might be an unfair deduction, supplemented by your understanding of how cruel kids can be–––especially to an outcast, especially to a 6’3” girl.

“The Duke,” Larissa pitches in, pushing up off the couch’s back to join just behind your shoulder, gazing over at the photo in question. “My mother hated the name, but I insisted. He was a gift for my fifteenth birthday,” she reminisces, breath coursing over the tip of your ear. You peer up at her as she smiles, something sad and regretful there before she sucks in a deep breath and points out a new photo to you, more recent by the looks of it: Larissa stands with a large group of students in their Nevermore uniforms, mid-laugh as one of the kids waves his hands wildly and another has their mouth agape in what looks to be protest. Her eyes are crinkled - genuine - and one of her hands seems to be in the process of making its way up to cover her mouth, the other mindlessly resting at her midsection. You know that laugh. It’s her most uninhibited, her most authentic, which only comes out when she’s caught completely off-guard. Your favorite, if you’re honest.

“My first class of students as principal of Nevermore,” Larissa offers, scrunching her nose happily at the memory.

“What’d he say? That student?” You’re part genuine curiosity and part selfishness: eager to know what made her laugh like that, and how you can take hold of that kid’s humor and use it for yourself, elicit a look like that, a laugh like that, which so rarely comes about during school hours.

“I wish I could remember,” she murmurs, taking one last look before clasping her hands together and shocking you out of the reverie. “But nevermind all that. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You nod sheepishly, nearly apologetic knowing she likely hasn’t and is looking to be a good hostess. But she merely nods, looking relieved: “Oh good, I can’t be bothered to cook tonight,” Larissa admits, a teasing grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Let me show you where everything is, then.” She guides you down the hall and nudges one of the doors open, gesturing with an open palm. “Here’s the bathroom. Extra amenities are in the second drawer there, towels in the closet.” The suite is nicer than any bathroom you’ve ever had, really the stuff of luxury hotels: white marble floors, a deep soaking tub, gold knobs and handles on almost every appliance. You’ve no choice but to forcefully shoo away the startling, indecent imaginings that break through your reserves of Larissa sinking deep into the lush bubbles of the tub, skin glistening, chest bare––––

“Heated floors, too. I never go cold in the winters.” Ever humble, Larissa pulls at your shoulder gently and switches the light off, directing you to another door just diagonal of the bathroom. When she swings the door open, you’re embarrassingly aware of the way your jaw drops.

“Bedroom’s this way,” she says, stepping into the space. It’s gorgeous, swooping drapes of dark ruby and gold, satin bedding that pools over the mattress and onto the floor, puddles of fabric against a thick persian rug. There’s another fireplace opposite the bed, an area farther off with another scaling bookcase and two large, well-worn armchairs, a small number of intricately designed table and floor lamps, a matching vanity and armoire, the former of which is careful, lived-in chaos with its scattered tubes of lipstick and skin care tinctures.

It’s Larissa.

“Wow,” you breathe, meeting her amused gaze. “You never mentioned you live like this. I would’ve taken you up on a sleepover much sooner if I’d known.” Larissa flushes and coughs out a coy laugh, smoothing a hand over her hair as she looks out across the room.

“Yes, well. You’re here now.” She reaches out and lifts your handbag from you, pulling at your coat lapel next to signal you should take it off. Once you do, Larissa hangs it along one of the walls and places your bag on her vanity. Busy work. “I have clothes you can borrow of course, though they may be a bit big. I’ll set them out, although,” she pauses, glancing at her bedside clock, “it’s early still… Up for a movie? Glass of wine?”

You’re almost - almost - embarrassed by the unrestrained nodding of your head, but hell, it’s been a long week, and relaxing with a bottle of wine sounds like the perfect reward for making it through without breaking down [in front of your students]. The fact that it’s Larissa’s personal wine, in her personal quarters, in her personal hands does nothing to lessen the appeal.

The question of where Larissa will sleep, if showing you the bedroom was her way of offering it to you, hangs in your head, but you decide the answer can wait until the time for sleep comes around. By no means are you going to allow Larissa to banish herself to the couch in her own home. You’d sooner take the floor–––even if you’d jokingly complained about that very same concept earlier in the hour.

“Do you have a preferred genre?” She asks as you both return to the living room, you perching on the sofa as she disappears into what you assume is the kitchen to fetch the wine. It’s not normally a loaded question, nor one worth considering too deeply, but you realize you have an opportunity here… and if Larissa’s occasional blushes, her soft gaze, mean what you hope they do, perhaps there’s a strategy to be employed. You shift further into the cushions, absentmindedly running a hand over your clavicle in thought.

“Don’t laugh… but I’m a sucker for romance when the weather’s like this,” you call out. Larissa peeks her head out from around the corner, brows furrowed in funny disbelief.

“Really?”

“Wha–– why is that so hard to believe?!”

“It’s not, I just.. wasn’t expecting it, I suppose. You seem more of the action or thriller type.” She shrugs and disappears again without further explanation, leaving you to half-pout half-ponder at her words. Before you can make an argument in your defense, however, she’s returning with two full glasses, bottle tucked under her arm, and dimming the lights, a practiced look of concentration slanted across her features as she makes her way over to the couch and lowers one of the glasses into your waiting hand. The red sloshes up just near the edge when Larissa hands it off, and you half-jokingly prod at her as your brows shoot up in amusement.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Principal Weems?” She tuts with faux indignation, but the growing flush of her cheeks betrays her.

“I wouldn’t dare.” She settles next to you - still a respectable distance for colleagues, but closer than mere acquaintances - and places the uncorked bottle on the table ahead of you, grinning.

“Romance it is, but I pick.” You ‘d be surprised by her demand if you didn’t know Larissa’s need to be in control at all times. In fact, if anything surprises you, it’s her calmness in the face of this turbulent weather–––perhaps the most uncontrollable variable there is. Even the most headstrong people can be manipulated, but not the sky.

The film she chooses isn’t one you’ve seen before, which excites you, and you both sink into the couch with a comfortable silence. You share little notes back and forth on the revolving plots and chuckle at the occasional joke, however cliché, as the movie rolls, finding an easy rhythm you’ve never before been able to appreciate amidst the chaos of classes and faculty meetings.

It’s about an hour in, having finished your first glass and poured another for yourself and Larissa, that you make the mistake of peering over at her from the corner of your eye. A particularly sappy scene is playing out before you. The TV’s light flickers softly against her face, which is content and dare you say tender as the two protagonists share a moment together. The stumble before the fall. Her forehead creases and you have the sudden urge to kiss the lines away, warmed by the wine and her beauty.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispers hoarsely, though her eyes never leave the screen.

Your heart jolts when she catches you out, running hot with guilt. Your legs shift beneath you as you move to scoot a few inches away - to give her space from your leering gaze - but you freeze when you feel her hand on your knee, holding you in place. You watch her for any sign that’ll tell you what’s going through her head but she doesn’t budge further, only loosening her hold on you a fraction when you relax against the cushions again. Your heart is beating hard at the door of your ribs as you tilt your head back towards the movie, far too distracted to actually process anything that’s happening. The air is so thick now your lungs can hardly keep up; it’s a dizzying thing, electric, and your thoughts jumble haphazardly as you wonder whether or not Larissa’s feeling it, too.

You risk a peek at her again–––but Larissa is already looking at you.

Her chest is heaving, albeit subtly, and her eyes are dark. A steep wave of arousal pulses through you when her tongue slips out along her upper lip, her gaze flicking down to your mouth and back up again: a question. The second you nod her mouth is on yours, both of you sighing into the touch. You cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer still as your other hand fists around the fabric of her dress. An insistent tug at your waist brings one of your legs between her own, hips rolling against each other as she gropes at you mindlessly, squeezing the thigh slotted over her heat.

“Is this okay?” she asks breathlessly, dragging your bottom lip between her teeth before she pulls away to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed a heavy pink and her lipstick is smudged. You giggle at the realization that there must be bright crimson streaks along your chin and lips.

“Yes,” you assure her between steadying pants, stroking a hand from her shoulder to her wrist and entwining your fingers, giving them a gentle pinch. “You alright?”

A smile briefly turns her lips, soft and loose. “Very much so.”

The next few moments are sweeter, slower as you take your time savoring her taste, tracing the swell of her lips, the delicate scar at the top there, following the line of her jaw up into her hair with your fingertips. She presses into you as gentle as ever, drawing shivers up to the surface of your skin as her hand snakes up the length of your spine. Barely there still is the sound of the fire lingering in its box and the distinct roar of wintry gusts at the window, mere suggestions at the back of your brain. The wine’s been long forgotten on the table.

You shudder when Larissa’s fingers tease at the lower hem of your blouse and brush against a bare sliver of skin, resting there before you arch into her and take hold of her wrist, guiding her hand higher. Her lips quirk to one side at your earnestness, especially as she reaches the clasp of your bra. She hesitates again, more teasing than searching, and slides her tongue into your willing mouth, exhaling sharply when you meet her move for move. Nimble fingers unclasp the bra without issue before they drift around to your front, putting distance between your bodies as Larissa palms your breasts, takes a nipple between her fingertips and pulls and twists with wicked dexterity.

A whimper escapes you when she sinks her teeth into your lip for a second time, much harsher this go around before she suddenly parts from you and begins pressing open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and soothing in time with the hapless rocking of your hips. She adjusts to unbutton your top, never once pausing in her assault on your neck as she does so.

“Wait,” you pant out suddenly, and all at once her body leaves you, drawing back to give you space. The look on Larissa’s face is a concerned one, but gentle still, and you know she’ll follow where you need. It’s everything you can do not to keep her waiting in exchange for the chance to look at her, swollen lips and mussed hair, dress askew.

She’s never been more beautiful to you.

“Take me to bed.”

Her concern is washed away and replaced with relief - and then more prominent, want.

Larissa rises up from the couch and reaches a hand out to you, catching you off-guard when instead of walking you to the bedroom once you stand, she bends at the knee and scoops you up, your legs coming to wrap around her waist as you laugh in surprise.

“Who am I to say no,” she teases, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before making the careful trek over to the bedroom.

The question of where she’ll sleep is hardly that anymore.

You’re both already naked and rocking against each other beneath her blankets when the power goes out. Neither of you truly take notice until the temperature in the room’s significantly plummeted.

“Oh–––one moment, darling.” You push yourself up on your elbows and whine as Larissa slips out of bed, hissing against the cold. Goosebumps raise along her skin, the peaks of her nipples hardening further as she rushes to kneel before the fireplace, sparking a flame in record time. Her skin nearly glows in the moonlight that trickles in from the windows, reflective amidst the snow. She looks like a ghost before you - ethereal, hauntingly so - and you tilt your head, gaze tracking from the deep slope of her calves to the fine curve of her ass, the faint divots of her spine, the wisps of hair that have come loose from their hold and fallen to her shoulders.

“You’re staring,” Larissa chides as she slides back under the covers, shivering.

“I’m admiring,” you correct lamely, a pitiful pout coming to rest upon your lips as you open your arms and draw her closer to warm her now-frigid skin. She hums as if to say ‘yeah, okay,’ burrows into you and drapes an arm across your middle as she pushes her leg between yours. Your hips instinctively buck when her thigh slides against the wetness of your cunt, and you’re both abruptly reminded of what had you so distracted in the first place.

Larissa tentatively nods towards you again and runs the tip of her tongue along your pulse point, your hips beginning to rock together once more, panting heavily and in unison while the storm surges on outside, unabated. The heat pooling in your stomach is in stark contrast to the drifting chill in the room, rearing a confused, overwhelming sensation of hot-cold along your skin. Larissa’s breath, warm on your neck, only further urges the feeling along until you feel as though you might snap if she doesn’t take you fully.

“Please,” you whimper, dragging your nails up over her back with little reserve. Larissa nips at your chin and yanks your leg further across her, taut against your clit.

“Please what?” Her voice is raked over with a carnal desire the likes of which you’ve never seen on her before, deep and airy. It only serves to pull the coil tighter. Your breath hitches as she pushes herself up on her hands and knees, hovering over you now, and she leans down, down until her face is level with yours, an intense wave of adoration flooding through you as she caresses one of your cheeks. She whispers, “I want you to beg, sweetheart,” and it’s all over, never a chance, the air all but torn from you, slick heat gone straight to your cunt.

Beg for her. Beg for Her. No matter how many times the thought bounces around within that empty little head of yours, you’re frozen in place both by lust and surprise. You’ve had your share of fun, of course, but the type that usually involves you calling the shots, taking charge. You thought you liked it that way.

You might’ve been wrong.

You’re only finally jostled from your thoughts when Larissa pulls back and draws a brow up at your silence. A shadow of concern passes over her face but you’re quick to pull her back in, nodding.

“Please fuck me,” you all but whisper, desperate to be filled, to be warmed, to be taken care of while the elements ravage the earth beyond these four walls. Larissa grins smugly at your feebleness, pressing her full weight upon you before she winds a hand down between your bodies, cupping your slickness in her palm. You’re dripping all over yourself, you know: a cool, nearly chafing wetness coating the inside of your thighs, so easily spread when Larissa dips her fingers in between your folds. She sinks a single digit into you just halfway, draws it out, sinks in again and curls it against that soft spot, yes, right there––

She easily adds another and hums at the way your body translates its own neediness, busying her mouth with the soft line of your jaw.

“You feel so good..” she murmurs as her fingers bury themselves into you knuckle-deep, so long and soft and better than you’d ever imagined (and you’d certainly spent time imagining it). Her hips press into yours from above, throwing weight behind her hand as she rolls against you, a slow and steady fucking that excites the fire already roaring within you. You gaze up at her in awe as her eyelids flutter in time with the movement of her hips, realizing she’s found just the right friction against the back of her own hand that each time she thrusts into you, a firm, rippling pressure rubs up against her own clit.

Your hands search frantically now until they’re planted at the slope of Larissa’s waist and you watch, carefully, as you pull her harder into each drive of her hips, rejoicing when she gasps and shudders into the pattern, breaking it for a fraction of a second before driving into you with a far greater desperation.

“Oohf, yes, th-that’s it, darling,” she pants out before capturing your lips in a sloppy, bruising kiss. Suddenly your own orgasm is incidental as you revel in the picture of her coming undone above you, chest flushed, cheeks pink, her hair falling further from its updo as she works her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at me, I want to see you,” you clamor with a novel burst of confidence, hands drifting up from her waist to cup her face in your palms. You want to look her in the eye when she cums. You want the memory of her sounds, her face, so deeply imbedded in your mind that it’ll keep you warm when you’ve returned to your own quarters. You want, you want, you want, and she whimpers - a heavenly sound - and obliges, gaze unfocused for a moment before she looks down at you, tongue darting out as she attempts to maintain some degree of focus.

“Right there, right there.. I can feel how close you are,” you huffily encourage, shifting so that both of your legs wrap tight around her and wrench her deeper, harder into you, smiling when her breath hitches at the change of pace and pressure against her sex. You watch her closely, in awe: Larissa’s brows are furrowed, her mouth fallen open and the pink of her tongue closely matched to that of her cheeks, the slight swell of her tits lurching which each thrust. The knowledge that each plunge into your cunt brings her closer is surreal––that she’s so obviously getting off on fucking you, that the frantic snap of her hips is building both of you up, simultaneously.

Her hips begin to stutter into you, airy whimpers falling from her as she teeters on the edge, fingers curling haphazardly in an attempt to continue fucking you through the oncoming rush of her orgasm. The mattress rocks and dips momentarily as Larissa gasps, sharp, and suddenly bows over you with the force of her climax, breath hot on your neck, forehead pressed into your temple, chest heaving against yours as she mindlessly ruts. Her fingers remain buried in your heat, pulsing slowly in time with her come-down.

Larissa’s body shudders as you run your palm over her in light, gentle sweeps, one hand carefully traveling to cup the back of her neck.

“You’re alright.. I know.. ‘s good, hm?” You feel a weak nod at your side, Larissa eventually stilling atop you. The pad of her thumb draws slow, lazy circles around your clit as her breathing slows, nosing the crook between your shoulder and neck.

“Christ,” she mumbles against your skin, and you chuckle as her lips draw a line from your ear to your chin.

“Yeah?” She hums and - slowly, determined - begins to wriggle down your body until her face is level with your cunt, glancing up at you with a blissed-out smirk before she presses an open-mouthed kiss to your slickness. The wet warmth of her tongue slides easily against you, dipping between your folds, lapping up the puddle that’s collected at your center, working in tandem with the pressure of her thumb at your clit, a feeling dumbly akin to religious devotion: a reverent prayer at your sex, holy flames licking up the walls of her bedroom, the weighted creases of her sheets stretched where she kneels before you.

A strong gust of wind wracks the shutters of her windows. They bang haphazardly against the glass, knocking in time with the surges of the storm.

Your fingers clench around the bed covers as Larissa rolls over your entrance once more, teasing, then pushing into your dripping hole with an embarrassing ease. She fucks you slow and as deep as she’s able, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips. Not even the devil themself could stop you from rolling your pussy against her face in search of some greater friction, whining as the sounds of her tongue wading through your arousal mixes with the crackling of the fireplace, the moan of the storm outside.

“Ohfuckyes,” you pant as your legs spread further on their own accord, knees drawing up to alter the angle at which your pleasure floods through you. She moves with delicious ability, and you watch the stark blondeness of her hair bob with every fervent lap of her tongue, overwhelmed with the sudden realness of the moment: Larissa’s scent on the pillows, her lipstick smudged across your lips, her sweat on your skin. Her thumb abandons your clit, and a desperate cry waits at the threshold of your mouth until her finger is replaced with the pointed flicking of her tongue, quick and full and firm against you. The coil pulls tight within your core.

She murmurs something brusque but you’re too consumed with the sensation of her fingertips at your inner thigh to process, but she repeats herself as you release a heavy sigh, her fingers sinking deep into your cunt.

“That’s a good girl..." Your back arches at the same time Larissa takes your clit into her mouth, sucking and slurping as if to drink from that little bundle of nerves drawn straight to your core, as if to quench an otherworldly thirst. She pulls your orgasm from you quick and unforgivingly, never stumbling in her ministrations when your thighs begin to close in around her, or when your hands wind into her hair and pull, hard. She continues to devour you as if she doesn’t notice the snapping of that coil, the sounds that melt into the satiny sheets of her bed as you cry out for her–––the curling into yourself as your clit throbs towards unbearable tenderness.

“Fff––please, please, I’m––” Sapphire eyes bore into yours as her lips stretch into a devious smile, slowly but surely unlatching. A mercy, if you’ve ever seen one. You tremble in relief.

“You can’t take it?” she coos, superficial concern floating by your quivering sex. You don’t know whether to pull her closer or push her away when Larissa glances down towards your soaking cunt again––––

but the choice is made for you when she draws herself up and grabs hold of your chin, pushing her tongue into the waiting cavern of your mouth. The sure expanse of her thigh slides between your legs as she does so, eliciting a startled twitch as she brushes against your clit. She swallows your gasp.

“So sweet.” Larissa nips at your chin, presses her thigh against you more firmly and rubs her thumb back and forth along your cheek. Your hips buck of their own volition, acting solely on the most primal of instincts despite the sensitive twinge between your legs. There’s only Larissa’s softness, her warmth, her gentle affection circling your head, coloring the air around you. The world’s ending outside and it’s just her.

“Please kiss me,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with the need to absorb her, to touch her anywhere and everywhere all at once as if you could meld together somehow amidst the tousled satin.

She stills, hovering over you with a smile so soft you’re almost certain this has all been a very long, very desperate webbing of dreams until she obliges, brushing her lips against yours with the utmost of care.

“Are you alright?” Her voice is hushed, eyes searching.

“Better than alright,” you assure her, brushing a stray hair from in front of her face. “Kind of just wanted to be close to you…” You shrug sheepishly and turn your attention to the far wall, suddenly very interested in the twisting shadows of trees cast against the space there. The abrupt rush of vulnerability reddens your cheeks, lips pursing as the regret at such an intimate admission prickles up with equal swiftness. It’s quickly brushed away, however, when Larissa clicks her tongue and tilts your face towards her with a palm against your cheek, brow arched amusedly.

“Then be close,” she says, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose before she pulls you flush against her and buries her face into your neck. The fire’s dwindling, informed by the dying light of the room, the falling temperature beyond the bed, but neither of you notice as you wrap yourselves up in the arms of the other, tending to a warmth all your own.

#i’ve been super stressed trying to live up to ‘easy does it’ tbh so i hope this is at least decent 😅#don’t think i’ll ever beat the sugar mommy fic lol #ah well!#i love exploring/constructing the parts of larissa we never saw (like her childhood) ﹠. i hope you guys do too!#my girl’s def a rider #i’ll stand by that till the day i die #accompanied by expensive purebred well-trained dogs throughout childhood #but is more of a cat person now – relaxed and easy #guilty pleasure romcom is ‘the proposal’#and not just bc that’s also MY guilty pleasure romcom 😇#n e ways hope you all enjoy :)#lmk your thoughts! 🫶🏼#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x f!reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #principal weems x reader #principal weems imagine #wasjustred

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