#anna learns to love herself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roosterforme · 1 month

Text

Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore.

"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.

She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered.

The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs.

Maybe she should have stayed home.

"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."

"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."

The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot.

She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.

Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside.

Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up.

But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"

She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her?

When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."

"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else.

"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."

Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."

Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"

Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."

"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.

Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"

Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"

"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."

That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"

She smiled and said, "Give me a name."

Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"

The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."

Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"

Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names.

"There she is. Anna!"

She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."

Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb.

The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.

"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly.

"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges.

She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick.

"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."

Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."

He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.

"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy.

The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."

Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head.

Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."

She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."

Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?

---------------------------

"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.

Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.

"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.

But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream.

Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief.

Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him.

"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"

Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.

Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"

She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about.

"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"

He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.

Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.

She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"

Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully.

Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."

"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."

When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.

--------------------------

Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore.

Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late.

"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.

Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him.

She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.

"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier.

"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.

Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."

He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."

"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."

"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."

She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"

He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."

"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"

Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."

Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."

"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her.

"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"

Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"

Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.

"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob.

She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior.

"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."

Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."

"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."

Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."

"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.

-------------------------

Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all.

His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.

"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him.

"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her.

"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.

Bob sighed and said, "I wish."

She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends.

"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"

His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."

Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."

Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"

"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."

"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."

"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck.

It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"

"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."

She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"

Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers.

She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."

It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."

He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt.

-----------------------------

These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

#robert floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

412 notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 4 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #felix catton smut #oliver quick smut #saltburn smut

510 notes · View notes

annazhu · 2 years

Text

i think we should all applaud pearl for trying to keep up with anna’s lessons in between customers because despite being busy with being a self made woman with her own business, she couldn’t stand to see anna get bullied in middle school and decided that homeschooling her was what was best for her! did it make anna feel lonely sometimes to not be around people her age? sure... but she’s incredibly grateful that her mom sacrificed her free time to make her feel safe and when pearl dies she doesn’t just lose a mom but also a best friend

#pearl was and will forever be the most important person in her life #she gave up so much to make anna happy #was she unreasonably strict at times?#yeah absolutely! but she acted out of love #and anna did enjoy spending so much with her #when pearl dies anna gets kind of... lost?#because she loses such a huge part of herself #i don't know i'm just sad...#learning of another dimension filled with monsters and losing your mom simultaneously would make anyone lose it #she tries very hard to deal with it all though #because she knows there's others who've lost more #and finally having friends does ease the pain a little

0 notes

justmystyles · 9 months

Note

hi! your angst is so so good! could you please write something angsty around the Selena Gomez song “Lose You to Love Me” kind of about a girl learning to love herself after a toxic love with Harry and then them reuniting after growing up years later, please?

Lose You to Love Me

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: a run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings.

a/n: my friend, you have no idea what you've done sending this ask in. technically you do, because I posted about it after i received it. but this song popped into my head a little over a week ago, and has been running up there on repeat. it's been making me think about my life and relationships, and being all reflective or whatever. i hate it. 😂

I have been thinking about this story pretty much non-stop since you sent the ask, and was so exited to finally get it written. i hope it's what you were looking for, and that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

also, a note about the story, the italicized parts are flashbacks.

i know we’re on all on edge after last night, so why not throw some angst in there to make it worse!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

As you moved through the streets of London, you were so focused on making it to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to the faces passing you by.

But he was, and he recognized yours immediately.

“Y/N?”

You froze in place, causing the person walking behind you to crash into you. You apologized and stepped off to the side, looking in the direction of the voice. “Harry,” you breathed out.

Before you could fully process what was happening, Harry had rushed up to you, pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes, even after all this time he still gave the best hugs. Your mind flashed with memories of all the times you found yourself in his arms. Good and bad.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” He spoke against your neck before pulling back, taking your hands in his as he looked you up and down. “You look amazing. All grown up.”

“Yeah, you too.” You took him in, he had definitely filled out since the last time you saw him. Of course you knew that, no matter how hard you tried to get away from him, you never could get that clean break you so desired. That’s what happens when your ex is one of the biggest stars in the world.

“Gosh, it’s been ages.” He muses.

You purse your lips and nod. “Eleven years.” You feel a knot in your stomach, thinking back to the last time you two spoke.

“Harry, it’s just not fair to me.” You move the speaker away from your mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear your breath hitch.

“And you think you’re being fair to me? This is my dream, Y/N, and I can’t even enjoy it because I’ve got you making me feel bad, or like I’m doing something wrong every time I talk to you!”

“Yeah, well you were my dream.” Your voice is quiet, defeated. “But I guess it’s time for me to wake up.”

Harry is silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. “What,” he lets out a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wipe your eyes, sniffling softly. “It means I can’t do this anymore. You’re living your life, you’re finding your way in the world. I need to go off and do the same. Alone.”

Harry gives you a sad smile. “I tried to reach out a few times, I didn’t like how we left things.”

“I know, me either.” You agreed. “But I needed to just sever the tie. It would have been too hard otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him curiously. “For how I handled things, for how it ended…”

You held your hand up to stop him. “We were just kids, you were eighteen and an international pop star, you handled things as best you could.”

He smiled gratefully at you. “Do you, uh… do you have some time? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”

Your mind is begging you to say no, but your mouth doesn’t listen, agreeing immediately. “But I’ll pass on the coffee.’

“Still?” He smirks, remembering how much you hated coffee. “Some things never change.”

****

The two of you order drinks, and get settled at a quiet corner table in a small coffee shop, the conversation starts off simple enough, you catch each other up on your families, you tell him about your career, and how you had relocated to London three years ago for a big promotion. He shares a couple of stories of some of his more memorable moments over the years.

Even after a decade apart, you still managed to fall into conversation with ease. From the moment you had met when you were kids, there was this instant comfort between the two of you. It was no surprise to anyone when you started dating at fifteen. You were inseparable, going everywhere together. You were there at his XFactor audition, you supported him every step of the way. It was when things really started taking off for him that everything changed.

“Hi angel,” Harry’s voice was low and raspy, that’s when you realized you forgot to take the time change into consideration before you called.

“Oh my gosh H, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I–”

You’re cut off by his laughter. “It’s alright, I like when you wake me up. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mum is taking me dress shopping for formal today, I just wanted to see if you had any ideas what you’d be wearing. We could coordinate!” There was a long silence as you waited for him to respond. “Harry?” You asked. Maybe he had fallen back to sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. “I have some bad news actually.” He sighed before continuing. “They booked us a bunch of shows in the US, I’m not going to be able to come home for the dance.”

“Oh,” you did your best to mask the disappointment. It was just a dance, Harry was doing amazing things, and you needed to be supportive of that.

“Angel, I’m so sorry, I really tried…”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.” You assured him while also trying to assure yourself.

You heard a knocking on the other side of the phone, and muffled voices. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go Y/N. I’m so sorry, I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know H. I love you too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon. I promise.” The call disconnects before you can respond.

That was the beginning of the end for your young love. You had put on a happy face for everyone, especially Harry, but your family and friends were able to see right through it. He probably would have too had he actually been there.

You ended up going to your formal with your friends, but as they danced and laughed, you sat on the sidelines, staring at your phone waiting for a call or a text from Harry. And that’s what your life became from there on.

When Harry would come home, things would be better, but still not what it was. Because he’d be gone for such long stretches, his time was spread so thin when he was home. He would want to spend time with everyone, which didn’t leave enough time for the two of you. You would tag along as much as you could, but your one on one time was lacking. It got to a point where you couldn’t even go out on dates, constantly being bombarded by people asking for pictures or autographs.

That’s when you decided to spend your time behind closed doors. Harry said it was so he could focus on you, but part of you wondered if it was so that he could keep you secret. You knew that there were girls all over the world that wanted to be with him, his team knew that was part of the marketability of him, of the whole group. The second the two of you stopped hanging out publicly, the insecurities started creeping in. From then on, every time you saw a picture of him with another girl, you wondered who she was, why it was okay for him to be seen with her and not you.

As the two of you continued to talk, you glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit,” you interrupt him. “I’m so sorry Harry, I actually have to go. I have a meeting I need to get to.” You stand from your seat and collect your things. Harry stands with you.

“Yeah, of course.” You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Hey, you should come to the show tonight. If you’re free I mean.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s Wembley. How many times did we talk about this?”

“A lot,” you smile wistfully, remembering those conversations. Whenever he was feeling discouraged about his journey, you would always be right there to pick him up, assuring him it was going to work out. That he’d be onstage at the famed stadium, and you’d be right there cheering him on.

“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Full circle and all that.” He said with a smile. “Besides, the whole family is going to be there. I’m sure mum and Gem would love to see you.”

It would be nice to see his family again. You had been all but officially adopted into the clan, spending holidays, dinners, birthdays with them. You were at Harry’s house just as much as you were at your own, possibly more. Sure, you had mourned the loss of your relationship with Harry, but it also broke you that you lost that second family.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You agree.

“Amazing.” He pulled you in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you tonight. Just check in at the box office when you get there, I’ll take care of everything.”

****

You made it to your meeting on time, but you were anything but present. Your mind kept going back to Harry, how great he looked, how happy he was to see you. And then the memories started flooding back.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice and gentle knock on the door call your attention away from your phone.

“Yeah?”

She sticks her head into your room. “We’re leaving in five minutes, are you ready?”

“Ready?” You suddenly remember that your parents were supposed to be taking you and your sister out to dinner. “Oh, I uh… no. I think I’m going to pass if that’s okay?”

“But honey, we’re going to your favorite restaurant.” You could see the concern spread across her face.

“I know, but Harry is supposed to call and check in. We haven’t had a proper phone date in weeks. I want to make sure I don’t miss him.”

“Y/N…” your mother says in a warning tone. After Harry missed out on formal, you had completely changed. You’d go to school, and then immediately come home waiting to hear from him. You would drop everything the second his name popped up on your phone screen.

“Mum, next time. I promise.”

Your mother lets out a sigh and nods, leaving you alone.

About an hour later, your phone pinged with a text from Harry.

Sorry love, can’t call tonight. Talk to you soon, promise. XO

****

After your meeting, you slipped out of the office. You knew you weren’t going to get anything done today. Besides, you needed to find something to wear tonight. You called Heather, your oldest and closest friends, asking her to meet you at one of your favorite shops.

You told her about your run-in with Harry, and his invitation to go to his show.

“You said no, right?”

“Yeah, I said no. That’s why we’re here, you’re helping me pick an outfit for a concert I’m not going to.” you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N, I say this as your friend, this is a terrible idea and you definitely shouldn’t go.” She says completely seriously. “Do you even remember what life was like for you back then?”

“Come on!” Heather grabbed your arm, trying to pull you out of the booth. “Come dance with us!”

You pull out of her grip, checking your phone for a notification. “I can’t H-”

“Harry’s going to call,” she finishes your sentence. “Y/N, you’re both my friends, but you’re my best friend, so I’m going to be real with you. Harry’s a wakner.”

“Hey,” you reply defensively. “He is not, he’s just really busy. He’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“I do know. And I also know that while you’re sitting here staring at your phone, you’re missing out on life. But he’s out there living it. You deserve better than that.”

“Right, and in a couple of months I’ll be living that life with him.”

Heather’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to university.” You state plainly, her eyes go wide in shock. “Harry is going to get me a job on his team. It won’t be glamorous, and it probably won’t pay much, but we’ll be together and everything will be good again.”

“Have you told your parents about this plan?”

“I have, they aren’t happy about it, but I’m eighteen, so there isn’t really anything they can do about it.”

“And you really think this is the best idea?” She asks you.

“Yes,” you say, a little louder than intended but you needed to get your point across. “Harry and I are supposed to be together, and if this is how it needs to happen, this is how it’s going to happen.” You grab your purse and stand from your seat. “I’m going home, it’s too loud here for me to hear him anyway.”

After that, you stopped going out when your friends invited you. They didn’t understand your relationship, and they were always on your case about it. It was easier to just stay home and wait for Harry. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. You were fine with that. It made it easier for you to focus on Harry, and be there when he had time for you.

As far as the job, that never happened. About a week after you graduated, you received a call from Harry. He told you that he fought for you, all the guys did, but his team said they weren’t able to make a spot for you.

You were devastated, but you did your best to hide it from him. That didn’t last very long, however, as that was the point where the cracks in your facade of ‘supportive girlfriend’ started coming through. You started seeing what everyone had been telling you, that Harry was out there conquering the world while you were putting your life on hold, spending your life by the phone waiting for a quick text or five minute phone call.

****

When you arrived at Wembley, you gave your name at the window and were immediately ushered to a backstage VIP area. You walked in and smiled to yourself at the turnout. You recognized almost everyone in the room. You stayed by the door, not wanting to interrupt when Gemma’s eyes traveled in your direction, She did a double take before smiling wide and running to you.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it!” She pulled you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned. “Harry told us he ran into you, and invited you to the show. But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come!”

You giggled at her excitement. “Of course I’m here, I told him I’d come.”

“I know, but you’re so nice, I figured you’d say that to his face and then just disappear.” You both laughed, before she took you by the hand, leading you into the group. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on!”

You went around the room, greeting those you had known a decade ago, and meeting the new members of Harry’s entourage. Everyone was so happy to see you, you were being pulled in a million different directions trying to catch up with everyone. They had told you that Harry was with them earlier, but had to leave to get ready. You were grateful for that. It would have been too much to be there with him, and his family.

**** When it was time to go out to the front of house, Gemma locked her arm in yours and you walked together. She stayed by your side the whole night. The two of you were always close, she had always treated you like you were sisters. Often joking that someday Harry would make it official. She made you promise not to leave without giving her your number, she said she wasn’t about to let another ten years go by without seeing you again.

The show was incredible. Harry was incredible. As you watched him up there, you felt your chest swell with pride. Despite what had transpired between the two of you, you couldn’t help but get emotional watching him live the dream that the two of you had spent so much time talking about. He had done it, but on a level that neither of you could have even imagined.

As you listened on, your mind wandered, thinking about the girls those songs were about. The girls that had come after you. You felt tears begin to pool in your eyes as you remembered the first one.

“Come on guys, put it away. Y/N is going to be here any minute.” You heard Heather plead. “This is her first time out since the breakup, she doesn’t need to see it.”

After the phone call where you ended your relationship, you were inconsolable. You cried nonstop, mourning your relationship, the future you were supposed to have, and all the time you wasted waiting for him. Your friends would come over often, but they would mostly just hold you and offer words of encouragement to you as you cried. Nobody was able to get through to you, they weren’t even sure how.

About two months after the breakup, you got this surge of determination. Harry had taken away enough of your life, you weren’t going to let him do it anymore. You texted Heather, and she agreed to gather all your friends for dinner.

You walked in and saw her trying to pull the phone out of her boyfriend’s hands. “What don’t I need to see?” You ask, everyone’s attention snapping to you.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Heather assured you.

You nodded, leaning in to hug your friend, quickly diverting and grabbing the phone out of her hand. You looked down at the screen and saw a paparazzi shot of Harry walking hand in hand with Taylor Swift, it was an article about the budding relationship between the two singers.

“Oh,” you said, dropping the phone on the table. “I uh… I just remembered I’ve got to…” your brain was too cloudy to come up with an excuse, not that they would believe it anyway. You turned and rushed out of the restaurant. Heather hot on your heels.

“Y/N, wait!” She followed you as you ducked into a nearby alleyway, getting to you just in time to watch your back slide down the wall.

You wrapped your arms around your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. Heather sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her.

“I… he… I…” You couldn’t form words, too upset to do anything but cry.

“I know babe, I know.” Heather said in a soft tone, rubbing your back comfortably. “I told you he was a wanker.”

You chuckled lightly, your breathing starting to return to normal. You looked up at your friend with tear stained cheeks, your breath hitching as you regained composure. “We just broke up. I’ve been locked in my room crying, and he’s been with her.”

“He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re so much better than all of this.” She held your face in her hands and gave you a determined look. “You’re a fucking catch Y/N, he’s an idiot for not seeing that.” You nod, pretending you agree with her. “Let’s get you home. We’ll get a bunch of junk food and watch sad movies. Get all the tears out.”

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” Gemma pulls you from your thoughts.

You suddenly realize the house lights are up, and people are filing out of the stadium. “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s just crazy to think that he went from the weird boy with the dumb jokes to that,” you gesture toward the stage.

“Oh, he’s still the weird boy, he’s just telling his dumb jokes to a whole lot more people.” She joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go backstage.”

“Oh, no no no, you go. I should…”

“Not a chance,” she interrupted you. “You’ve gotta come back and see him.” You narrow your eyes at her, wondering why it was so important that you see him, but she just smiles innocently and leads you back to the VIP room.

****

You and Gemma get comfortable on a couch in the back corner of the room, so lost in conversation that you don’t even notice when all eyes in the room land on the door, cheering Harry as he enters. He walks through, offering hugs and handshakes, thanking people for coming and graciously receiving compliments on his performance.

Once he’s made his way to the back, he stops, silently observing you and his sister gossiping and giggling just like you always had.

“You’d better not be talking about me, or I’m telling mum.” His voice pulls you from your conversation, and you both turn to look at him.

Gemma grins and jumps from her seat. “You were outstanding.” She pulled him into a hug, saying something to him in a hushed tone.

He smiled gratefully at her as she sat back down, Harry turned to you with a curious expression. “Well? What did you think?”

“H,” his nickname fell so easily from your lips, as if you had never been apart. You stood up, looking at him with so much awe that he was taken aback. “You did it. I’m so,” you sigh with a shrug. “It was incredible.”

He smiled, dimples on full display. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what that means to me.” He steps in front of you, pulling you into a firm embrace. You were so lost in the moment that it didn’t even register that he had called you by his pet name for you.

Gemma stood behind you, making sure to get Harry’s attention, she winked at him with a smirk before matriculating back into the crowd, allowing you two a moment.

When you finally separated, Harry looked down at you, his gaze so intense that you felt your cheeks heating up. “I should probably go,” you finally speak up.

“No, wait.” He says in a panicked tone. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

You furrow your brow, not expecting that. He’s in a room full of the most important people in his life, and he wants to be alone with you? “Yeah, sure.”

He leads you out of the VIP area and down the hall to his dressing room. He opens the door, signaling for you to enter. He follows behind you, closing the door once you both cross the threshold.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before Harry finally breaks the silence. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Me too, thank you for inviting me.” You smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I, uh…” he takes a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I miss you.”

You look up at him in confusion. “Harry, it’s been eleven years.”

“And I’ve missed you the entire time.” He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “I was so stupid back then, so stupid. I know I wasn’t fair to you.”

“I told you, it’s fine, you were a kid. You did the best you could.” You assured him.

“I think running into you today was fate.” He ignores your words and keeps going. “We’ve both grown up, I’ve grown up. I see what’s important in life now.”

“Harry…”

“There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many things that happened that I wanted to celebrate with you, but I couldn’t. Every sold out show, every award, all of it, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”

You were speechless. You were listening to his words, watching the vulnerability in his face, all of it completely overwhelming you. Out of everything that could have come from your run in with Harry, this was probably the last thing you would have expected.

“I don’t… what?” Was all you managed to choke out.

“Listen, I’m not saying we jump right back in and pick up where we left off,” your eyes went wide at his words. “I broke your trust, that’s something I need to earn back. But I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“Try…”

He reached out, taking your hand and sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “I want to show you that I can be what you need, what you deserve.”

“What are you asking?” You ask, searching his face as if it held the answers.

“I just want to be in your life again, be your friend. I want to get to know you now, I want you to get to know me now, and see where things go from there.”

You stood in silence, looking into Harry’s eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he’s looking at you. You nod your head slowly. “Okay,” you respond, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully, you nod with a smile and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Thank you thank you thank you. I promise I’m not going to mess this up.” You chuckle against his chest. “What’s so funny?”

“Heather is going to kill me.”

A bark of laughter escapes him. “I’ll protect you,” he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

459 notes · View notes

disneyanddisneyships · 8 months

Note

Malaponi

The thing is that for this song it can go two ways. SO.

Mal as Elsa, aponi as Anna:

"Mal?!"

Mal turned around at the sound of her best friends voice echoing in her ears.

Lilly?

"Who's asking?" Mal stated, not trusting that her best friend would be in hell of all places.

"What're you doing here?" Lilly asked.

Oh god... it WAS lilly... Mal could recognize that smile anywhere.

"Me?! What the hell are YOU doing here?!" Mal all but yelled as she looked at her best friend's demon form, attempting to figure out what she was based on.

"Well uh.. suicide can do that to a person," Lilly joked. "I can't believe you're here!" She exclaimed as she moved to hug her friend.

Mal stepped back...

Oh god... it was my fault that she died wasn't it?

Standing frozen in this life I've chosen Please, don't find me, the past is all behind me Leave me in the snow, let me go

Mal stood frozen in place.

"Mal, wha-"

"Please go away..... I'm bad for you.... just let me go...." Mal muttered before hugging herself with her arms, beginning to walk away.

No, Elsa, wait, don't go! I'm just trying to protect you! You don't have to protect me! I'm not afraid! What do you want, Anna?

"What?! No!" Lilly scolded, grabbing Mal's arm gently, turning Mal towards her.

"I'm trying to protect you!" Mal replied, pulling her arm out of Lilly's grasp.

"Protect me? From what? Im not afraid!" Lilly stated.

"What do you want from me, Lilly?" Mal asked, a bit more harsh than she would've liked.

This. Just you and I talking and chatting and taking up space And you, you look so at peace, which I did not predict after what all took place I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I couldn't see I knew you were hiding, but selfishly thought you were hiding from me That's why I've come all this way: to look in your eyes and say I can't lose you, not again I can't lose you like then If you could see yourself the way I do Then you'd see why I can't lose you

"I just.. want THIS.... you and I talking... being best friends Luke we used to be.... you seem at peace here.... I'm happy about that..... I didn't expect you would be after you ran away but.. you seem happy...." Lilly spoke.

Mal stayed silent, not meeting Lilly's eyes.

"Im... I'm sorry I didn't try harder.... when you told me to leave you alone.. I selfishly thought it was personal... and I'm sorry.... but... I... I can't lose you... not again.... I can't lose you like I lost you then," Lilly stated.

Mal looked up at her, tears evident in her eyes.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do.... maybe you'd figure out why I can't lose you," Lilly finished.

Silence from Mal.

Lilly sighed and nodded, her smile fading before she began to walk away.

Wait! I'm happy you came but it's not safe to stay here and talk Don't get close! This is all so brand new, let me first learn to crawl before I try to walk I'm at home here, out in the cold, up in the air But it all turns to chaos near people I love and, with how much I care, Please, don't remind me to feel, believe me, the danger is real

Mal grabbed Lilly's hand.

"I'm happy you're here.... but it's not safe for you to stay.... we haven't done rhis in a while just... let me crawl before i can walk," Mal replied.

Lilly stayed silent, listening.

"I feel like im home... but everything turns to chaos when I'm around the people I love..... I'm bad luck.. if you're around me, you're in danger," Mal explained.

I can't lose you, not again I can't lose you like then You don't know the things that I can do Keep your distance, 'cause I can't lose you

"I can't lose you either.... not again.... but you don't know what's happen.... you need to keep your distance because I cannot lose you like I lost you back then," Mal explained, remembering when she had seen the news about Lilly's suicide.

You have to listen, I've come here to tell you That everything's different now that I understand I know you mean well, but the air's getting colder Just leave me alone, let me get this in hand But I'm here for you, we can fix this together For once try to trust me, I'm begging you now Don't you see I'm the storm and you make it worse? I would fix it, but I don't know how

"You have to listen to me, lilly-"

"Everything's different now! I understand!" Lilly interrupted.

"I get that you mean well. But things are gonna get bad real fast. Just leave me alone... let me figure stuff out," Mal stated.

"Mal, I'm here for you! We can fix this together. For once just listen to me! I'll beg you if i have to!" Lilly argued.

"You just make things worse! I can't control my emotions when you're here! It's going to get you hurt!" Mal scolded.

Lilly stared at mal, somewhat angrily.

Anna & Elsa: I can't lose you, try to see Anna: Why can't you turn to me? Elsa: I'm trying to tell you that Anna & Elsa: I can't lose you like before Elsa: As much as I wish, I can't open that door Anna: Why can't you open that door? Anna & Elsa: If you loved yourself the way I do Then you'd see why I can't lose you

"I cant lose you!" Lilly yelled. "Try to see! Why don't you feel like you can turn to me?!" She asked, desperately.

"I'm trying to tell you that I xant lose you like before! I xant be the one to reopen that door!" Mal yelled back.

"If you knew how much you meant to me you'd see why i can't lose you!" Lilly shouted back.

Mal sighed before wlaking away without another word, leaving Lilly there alone, tears streaming down her face.

Aponi as Elsa, Mal as Anna:

Aponi walked backstage after her performance, tugging at the collar Valentino had made her wear while she danced.

As aponi took off her makeup, she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!" She called out, expecting Angel dust to waltz through the door.

But instead she was met with a voice she never thought she'd hear again. Especially not after her suicide.

"Lilly?"

Aponi turned around quickly.

"Mal," she deadpanned, the shock eminent on her face.

Standing frozen in this life I've chosen Please, don't find me, the past is all behind me Leave me in the snow, let me go

Aponi stood there like a deer in headlights, not making a move.

Then she remembered the Val's threat that one day when she had disobeyed him.

"I'll rip out the hearts of anyone you love, little butterfly,"

"You have to leave....." Aponi stated as she turned her back on Mal.

No, Elsa, wait, don't go! I'm just trying to protect you! You don't have to protect me! I'm not afraid! What do you want, Anna?

"What? No! I haven't seen you in years! If you hate me, just say so!" Mal fought back.

"I'm trying to protect you," Aponi muttered.

"You? Protect me? You have NO idea what my life was like Lilly," Mal stated.

Aponi sighed. "What do you want?" She asked, bitterly.

"What do I want?! This! I missed you! I saw your performance! You looked more at peace than you ever have! And..... I wouldn't expect that... down here of all places.... especially after I saw what happened on the news...." Mal explained. "I'm sorry..... I thought you would've hated me after I snapped at you.... I didn't know that you..... I didn't know that he was...." Mal trailed off.

Mal looked down in shame, remembering the day she found out Lilly had killed herself.

".... I can't lose you.... not again..... I can't lose you like then," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I'm happy you came.... I'm happy you're here, I really am... but its....." Lilly looked around the room at the cameras. "Its not safe here for you right now...." she muttered.

Mal took a step towards her, only to be met with Lilly taking a step back.

"Dont get close...... its... I'm not comfortable with touching just yet," she lied. "I feel at home here.... but shut is gonna hit the fan if I give in to this...." she stated, hiding the way her hands were shaking.

I can't lose you, not again I can't lose you like then You don't know the things that I can do Keep your distance, 'cause I can't lose you

"I can't lose you either.... not like back then.... so please.... get away from me.... I can't lose you...." Lilly whispered, a flood of tears rolling down her face as she pushed away her best friend. Her everything.

"No no! I get it now! I understand!" Mal stated with a hopeful smile.

"You mean well, and I get it. But please just leave me alone...." Aponi muttered, turningher back on mal again and taking off the rest of her now smudged makeup.

"Lilly, I'm here for you! We can fix everything between us! Please trust me!" Mal smiled as she held out her hand to Aponi.

"Mal you're gonna make everything worse... I can't fix this," Aponi argued with a tired breath.

"I cant lose you! Why won't you turn to me!?" Mal asked, helplessly.

"I'm trying to protect you! I can't lose enough like before! Please leave.. close the door," Aponi pleaded.

"If you would just listen to me! Just see yourself the way I see you!" Mal stated as she placed her hand over Lilly's.

"Get out, Mallory,"

Mal's eyes widened and she took her hand back.

Aponi gently pushed Mal out of her dressing room, closing the door and locking it before sliding down to the ground, crying.

She had to say it.... it was the only way to get Mal out of the room....

She had to say it.

332 notes · View notes

ilovefredjones · 5 months

Text

the frozen ii ending makes me soooooo angry like the whole POINT of frozen i was that elsa learned that she could rule arendelle with her powers and with anna by her side!!! literally in the bway musical she sings ‘i know i’ll never see that sunny day / when this trial is finally through / and it can just be me and you’ like. elsa WANTS to stay with anna

and they try and explain this somewhat in into the unknown, with the ‘who knows deep down i’m not where i’m meant to be’ but. WHY isn’t she where she’s meant to be. all of the first film was her learning that she belonged in arendelle and her powers/herself wasn’t something to be afraid of. why isn’t she meant to be with her family? with her sister who’s been desperate to reconnect with her? why doesn’t she belong where people readily love her and accept her and want the best for her?

and then, what about anna? there is no mention of her wanting/being ready to be queen in either two films. we don’t even see the offer on screen; we don’t get the sisters’ quiet, vulnerable conversation where elsa admits to wanting to live with the rest of the nature spirits and anna offers to take her place as queen. we don’t see anna begging elsa to stay in the forest because she can rule if elsa’s happier there. we never see their dialogue. it’s just so sudden. is anna once again just going along with what her sister wants? is elsa isolating herself all over again? we just don’t know. they both seem happy, but there’s barely any indication that it’ll lead up to that point.

it just makes no sense for either of their arcs, or their previous wants/needs. if they were meant to stay together, why separate them again? they just got each other back. and now they’re alone again.

#and yeah yeah neither of them are alone bc of kristoff/the other nature spirits etc etc but COME ONNNNNNN.#anna did not spend most of her life desperate to spend time with her sister just for elsa to fuck off to the mountains again! what was the+#point of the first film!#like when did anna show ANY indication of being ok with being QUEEN???? does she even WANT to be???#and yes elsa is now surrounded by people like her but. gah. idk it just feels so redundant #like why is that the only place she really belongs?#and i know they’re her people so ofc she wants to be with them bc she found where she belongs!!#i just think they could’ve balanced it a bit more so it’s not so out of nowhere #why didn’t we get to see anna and elsa talk it out???? sing a little duet?????#they don’t even HAVE a duet in this film what the hell #grrrr #anyway. normal i’m so normal about frozen #frozen #frozen ii #elsa of arendelle #anna of arendelle

153 notes · View notes

boredwrites · 10 months

Text

The Huntress NSFW Headcanons

Anna the Huntress x gn!reader

I'm so horny for Anna right now oh my god. Also, I cannot imagine Anna with a male partner, I apologize. I kept the reader AFAB but with gender neutral pronouns.

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, not proofread.

Masterlist

So, we all know most of Anna's life she was alone. But that doesn't mean she doesn't know about the birds and the bees. Her momma told her about it and she sometimes catches animals in the middle of it. But because she knows about it doesn't mean she's experienced in the slightest.

But that's ok, Anna's a fast learner and she's very attentive. She catches onto your behaviour very quickly and she quickly learns what you do and don't like.

We all know and headcanon that she's very much a giver. She's definitely a giver in the bedroom too. She's more focused and cares more about your pleasure than hers. She always makes sure you finish at least twice before her. Sometimes she gets so caught up in your pleasure, she doesn't even care about hers.

Anna is open to anything as long as it doesn't hurt you. She hates the thought of hurting you in the bedroom, even if you want her to. It would take a lot of convincing to get her to even consider it. You're her sweet baby, she can't stand the thought of hurting you in any way.

You got a praise kink? Ohhh lord you’re gonna have fun. She will praise the hell out of you. She loves giving you praise and watching your reactions, in and out of the bedroom. It’s one way to know that she’s trying to get you in the mood, she’ll whisper praises in your ear over every little thing you do.

Let’s be honest, Anna is a boob gal. She looooves your breasts. How soft they are, how they look covered in hickies and her saliva, covered in soap in the bath. She loves holding and fondling and sucking on them. It doesn’t even need to be sexual, she just loves having them in her hands.

While on the topic of boobs, hers can get so sensitive. She’ll become a needy mess if you play with her breasts. An accidental brush against them can immediately get her going. Please please please suckle on them, she’ll be the happiest woman alive. Pinch her nipples? She’s yours forever.

But don’t let a needy mess of her fool you. She still dominates the hell out of you (softly). It would take a lot of convincing for her to sub, but she still wants some control so she’ll keep her hands on your hips and help you maintain your speed, whether you’re riding her face or you guys are scissoring.

If there was one thing Anna could do in the bedroom for the rest of her life, it would be giving head. Her mouth is very talented and can have you whining and gasping and a mess within seconds of her getting started. She loves the noises and faces you make, she loves the feeling of your hands tugging her hair, your hips bucking up into her face. She'd die a happy woman if she was suffocated by your thighs.

If you give her head? She's gonna finish embarrassingly fast. Growing up without intimacy made her especially sensitive when touched privately.

If you have an oral fixation, she'll be more than happy to provide. She loves when you suck her fingers, especially your little sighs and your face when she lets you suck them after she touched herself, allowing you a taste.

Mommy kink? Mommy kink.

She loves being the provider. She loves it when you're dependent on her. She tilts her head at you and gives you a sympathetic look as you beg her to touch you since she's the only one who can make you feel so good.

If you’re up for it, Anna will happily engage with consensual somnophilia. Given the okay, Anna will happily wake you up with sleepy morning head. She smiles every time your hands find her hair when you wake up to this pleasant surprise. She prefers giving in this situation. More often than not, if you wake her up with head, she’ll go instinctual and think you’re an intruder. So maybe not wake her up with head. But waking up with her and give her head while she’s still groggy but knows it’s you? Now that’s definitely on the table.

Anna absolutely loves voyeurism. She gets off from watching you and/or you watching her. One thing she loves is having you knelt before her and have you watch her pleasure herself while you’re not allowed to touch you or her. In this situation, she doesn’t tie you up. She loves the potential chance of you breaking the rule and touching yourself so she can punish you. But if you follow her orders, she’ll reward you by sticking her fingers in your mouth, allowing you a taste.

Her punishments never induce pain. But she can be a real jerk when teasing. She’ll tease and edge you until you’re a sobbing, begging mess. But she has to remind you that you’re the one who broke her rule, so you need to be punished. It’s only fair.

If you’re up for it, Anna is into power dynamics. She loves to be fully dressed while you’re naked, riding her thigh and leaving a wet spot on her pants. She loves your desperate mewls and how your thighs clench over hers as you finish. She’ll then guide you to her other thigh with a one word order. “Again.”

As attentive as she is, Anna can’t read minds. If you want something, she needs you to tell her. She loves it when you tell her exactly what you want. She loves hearing your voice. But it isn’t limited to things you want to keep going. If you can’t take whatever she’s giving you, or you need to stop, please tell her. She uses the color codes and expects you to use them as well.

Now in the realms, if you’re a survivor in a match with her, two words; locker quickie.

If you make sure she sees you go into a locker, it gets her going immediately. She loves to have your noises muffled by her fingers in your mouth as her other hand is busy pleasuring you, either playing with your clit or playing with your breasts as she does the knee thing. I know you know what I’m talking about.

Does not care if someone sees you guys. She loves it when survivors see that you’re already taken, that you’re hers and no one else’s. May Entity have mercy on anyone’s soul if they get between you and Anna (it won’t). Is not above fucking you in the basement.

Overall, Anna is such a fun woman to mess around with. Don’t worry, you’ll only have to show her how to please you once. She remembers and will explore out from her memory and try different things with you to see what makes you scream. And she’s surprisingly good at it, too.

400 notes · View notes

solomons-finest-rum · 8 months

Text

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 4 (FINALE)

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I feel like, perhaps, that is enough said in that little Alfie corner of mine. I'm not sure if I will return with any more stories. Thank you so much for the support along the way! I love you all dearly. One more note, some dialogue here is directly stolen from the show, because it was just too good not to.

💗💗💗💗💗

WORD COUNT — 2,434

Masterlist

You stayed observant through that bizarre meeting at Tommy’s equally bizarre mansion and gathered information as quietly and efficiently as you were taught to do. As you quickly learned, in Tommy’s new circles nobody suspected women of anything. This, you suspected, would surely be their downfall.

Jack Nelson was as infuriating as you had expected him to be. Not only did he insult your entire family by pretty much assuming you all still lived in caravans and told fortunes, he continued to be offensive even when he didn’t speak. Which wasn’t often. The man loved to hear the sound of his own voice and didn’t try to hide it.

Your infamous sister-in-law, Gina Gray, didn’t take too kindly to another woman present at the table—but seeing as she had felt so emboldened to restructure the Shelby organisation pretty much straight off the boat, you didn’t pay her any mind. She earned herself no favours with her ill-placed boldness.

What did amuse you most was the perpetual scowl on Lady Diana’s face, along with Oswald Mosley’s poorly concealed surprise at your presence. For a split of a second you regretted you had agreed to the plan. Perhaps you should have stayed in Margate… As your husband would say, life was so much easier when you were dead.

But it was too late to dwell on it. Somehow, both sides of your family came to accept a consensus those weeks ago, when the Shelbys invaded your seaside sanctuary on a misguided rescue mission. If there ever was a moment to compare your life to “Beauty and the Beast,” that would probably have been it.

Now one foot in the Shelby camp, one with the Solomonses, you really had to try very hard not to laugh in Jack Nelson’s face when he opened his mouth once more and the following came out:

“So you’re the sister,” he pointed to Ada whose scowl in comparison to Lady Diana’s was truly unmatched, “you’re the aunt,” he looked at Polly, “and you… You are cousins with Thomas, which I suppose makes you the sister-in-law to my favourite niece. How queer.”

“Astute observation,” you muttered.

Jack Nelson remained unaffected. It seemed he could only pay attention to the words he spoke, the rest was lost to him.

“So it seems you and I are in the minority, Mr. Mosley. This,” Jack let out a humourless chuckle, “this feels too much like a witch coven and too little like a business meeting. Meant no offence, ladies.”

“Oh, Jack, you’re so blunt!” Gina rolled her eyes and gladly accepted her drink from Mosley.

“How refreshing,” sighed Lady Diana, “a man who isn’t careful with his words.”

Fish out of water, you didn’t comment, but Polly then spoke for the both of you:

“Yes, surely speaking your mind around gangsters should prove most beneficial.” She lit a cigarette in her usual dramatic way and handed you a match. You lit yours, too.

Jack looked at you both with an incredulous look, then let out a most uncomfortable chortle.

“I can see the family resemblance, you know…” He pointed towards you then turned to Gina. “Doesn’t she look just like Michael with that stony stare? I wondered… I wondered, sister dear, if you weren’t a fake, but now I see the Shelbys have not one lying bone in their bodies.”

How about the Solomonses?, you thought to yourself, but otherwise responded by leaning back in your seat and blowing out the cigarette smoke at the ceiling. Fortunately, the details of your marriage remained undisclosed for non-family members, because they weren’t yet useful.

And you didn’t consider the Americans your family.

Your indifference didn’t earn you any allies, but at least it seemed that Jack Nelson was most content when monologuing, so you let it be. Better they thought you a moron instead of suspecting the plot.

“Now, see, this is what I was hoping to hear from Thomas Shelby himself, but I wonder… What does Shelby Company Limited actually do?” Jack asked then, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Oh, he thinks himself so smart, you thought, still silent as a grave.

Ada glared at him instead, like one might at a roach, and you started to wonder how many in the present company were actually holding any weapons. Gina looked too doped to care, you reasoned, and Lady Diana would never get her hands dirty, this much you could already tell after having known her for about thirty minutes. Jack might be carrying a piece and Mosley too, but both looked entirely too placated and confident in the company of women.

Of course, having predicted your fiery nature, you remained under strict orders from Tommy not to murder anyone. Yet. Alfie judged him well, you thought. Tommy truly could read anyone’s character like an open book.

But, as things stood, you were under no orders that concerned you plotting, and so you plotted in silence. Killing one of them would probably mean the other would attack immediately, but which would be easier to subdue should the occasion arise? You considered that precise conundrum when the door to the parlour opened once more and in it stood Tommy Shelby.

“Apologies for the delay, gentlemen. Ladies.”

Now Tommy, you reasoned, he’d probably be greatly opposed to you starting a shootout in his home, but then he wouldn’t dare to kill you, not in front of Polly, and probably not while Alfie still drew breath. But by gods, you were growing tired of Jack Nelson’s tongue.

As Tommy sat down, a cigarette between his lips and a glass of Irish whiskey in his hand, you looked him in the eye and let yourself smile just a little. As far as cousins went, Tommy wasn’t so terrible.

“Tommy,” Gina cajoled. “Care to finally clue us in?”

“In what?” Tommy asked, his face a stony mask that revealed nothing, but somehow you already knew he despised the woman just as much as you all did.

Despite Jack Nelson’s sincerest efforts in assumption, though, your family wasn’t yet adept in mind reading and further explanations had to follow:

“Now, Mr. Shelby, Gina tells me this young lady there, your cousin, was presumed dead for the past decade or so,” said Mosley. “How curious indeed. I wonder why she is then present at the meeting? Is she sympathetic to the cause?”

The thought of a shootout came back to you like lightning. This time you got slightly panicky. You had no idea where the fascist’s reasoning would lead and you didn’t want to find out.

Tommy looked at him as he lit his cigarette, then back at you to give you the tiniest nod of approval. You almost laughed. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe his grandfather’s gift truly allowed him to hear your thoughts.

“So not only can you Shelbys reach the dead, you can also raise them. My, my, Mr. Shelby, that will soon prove to be a very useful skill,” Mosley commented and Diana gave him a brilliant smile.

These people, you concluded, were trained parrots and fucking idiots. With the exception, perhaps, to Gina, who all in all seemed to have been trained in nothing.

“That remains to be seen.” Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Seeing as we’re all women and scarcely any men here,” Jack swiftly changed the subject, “I wonder where the husbands are? Are they not involved in family meetings?”

An ice-cold shiver went through you and Polly grasped your hand in hers to stop you from reacting. But you already felt panic settle in. Either this was idle talk or Jack Nelson wasn’t as ill-informed as you had judged him.

“Mine’s sadly dead now,” Ada answered sharply to Jack Nelson’s provocation, “but of course we speak often.”

If looks could kill, the one she sent Jack would burn him to a crisp. You smirked at the thought.

“Well, I’m bored now,” Gina announced and Ada rolled her eyes at the bratty behaviour. “Are we waiting for anyone else? Or can we finally get to business?”

Funny she should speak of business, you thought, seeing as she had no say in any. You, on the other hand, remained most curious on the subject of vendetta. Polly turned to Tommy and gave the slightest of nods.

“Perhaps, Mr. Mosley, we can turn to what practical things Mr. Nelson can do to further our cause, while he’s in the country,” Tommy said.

“Wouldn’t you I rather whisper in the President’s ear?” Jack Nelson smirked. “That is kind of why I’m here, right?”

Mosley seemed either pleased or exasperated at the suggestion, you couldn’t quite tell. His eyes remained dark and lifeless.

“We do, indeed, have things for you to pass on to the President,” he murmured, “but not while we share the table with Jewish whores.” He turned to you and in an instant you knew the charade was over. “Mr. Shelby, I truly expected better from you, but then again… Some blood runs thicker.”

There would be no swaying the room. Not when Mosley turned sharply to Jack and Gina and declared:

“That woman is the widow of Alfie Solomons, the late… king of Camden Jews,” he scoffed. “She is no aid in our cause, but a spy. One, I must say, very poorly concealed, Mr. Shelby.”

“Is that true?” Gina turned to you, eyes bright and wide from prolonged cocaine use. “You’re his wife?!”

“The widow,” Lady Diana corrected snidely, not without satisfaction. “His motley crew of sewer rats is no threat to anyone anymore, I assure you.”

You tried your best to remain calm, but the thought of the knife you kept concealed in your skirts grew stronger. The fascist idiot didn’t know your husband yet lived and while the information wouldn’t exactly help you right then, you held onto it for dear life. Nothing would happen to you while Alfie drew breath, this much you knew.

“Well then,” Ada sighed, “I’d say the negotiations are over?”

“Well,” Lady Diana chuckled humorlessly, “I’d say it was a pleasure, but my parents raised me better.”

Polly stood up first and perhaps that would be the end of it, had Lady Diana kept her mouth shut and didn’t whisper to her what she did:

“Gypsy scum.”

The movement was swift and sharp—obviously well-practised. One moment the hairpin was holding up Polly’s rich brown curls, the next it was firmly lodged in Lady Diana’s nose, all the way to her brain; Lady Diana’s face froze, twisted in pain and horror, and blood dripping through her eyes.

Then, chaos ensued. Everyone rose from their seats, but only Tommy remembered his drills and, unlike Mosley, he would never be as arrogant to have come unprepared.

“I will have no gorja speak like that of my kin,” he said calmly as he raised his revolver to Mosley’s head. “So when you meet the devil, say my greetings for me.”

Tommy shot him in cold blood and that, alongside a curse in his tongue of old, seemed enough to subdue even a man like Jack Nelson. Of course, to your great satisfaction, Gina swiftly joined her uncle’s bloodied corpse on the beautiful Persian rug—the corpse with your knife stuck in his neck.

“Now then, Tommy, what are we to do with you, hm?” Alfie exclaimed as soon as Tommy’s men let him inside the parlour that was now undergoing impromptu redecorating efforts.

To their credit, Tommy’s maids scrubbed the blood off the furniture like it was their lives true calling, all the while you sat side by side with Polly and Ada, smoking cigarettes and pretending to be fine.

“Hello, Alfie,” Tommy hummed his usual greeting and handed Alfie a drink the man obviously refused.

“Nah, I don’t touch that stuff, mate, but I should see to my wife, perhaps, she looks like she dearly needs some looking after, right, especially since you Shelbys remain savagely as per fuckin’ usual!”

Tommy smirked at that, then motioned Arthur inside as soon as he saw his brother in the hall.

“Is it done, Arthur?”

“We burnin’ them outside, Tom, like you said,” the elder Shelby grunted.

“And can I say, right, about fuckin’ time that fascist burns in hell!” Alfie roared and came closer to place an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

“You alright then, sweetheart?” he asked and you nodded, reaching for his hand.

“She’s fine,” Polly scoffed.

“Right, high time I take my bride back home then, Tommy, since your war efforts are quenched, I hope, yeah, an’ I now find myself avenged,” Alfie concluded, thoroughly ignoring Polly’s implications. “Don’t think on any debt collection, though, Tommy, I know ya well enough and one look at this mangled face should halt any such notions from you, all right?”

You stood when Alfie offered you his arm and smiled at Polly affectionately, seeing as she still remained vigilant around the man. Perhaps that would be their way.

“Hope to see you again, Cousin?” Ada grinned at you in a manner that greatly reminded you of Tommy—something feral in that smile still kept you on your toes.

“I hope so as well,” you said.

“Perhaps we should turn to Boston, dearest?” Alfie’s gruff voice brought you back to reality. “I hear my uncle remains a man of wisdom, even now he’s past sixty. But such is the way in my family, don’t you worry. I ain’t leavin’ you a simperin’ corpse anytime soon…”

As you said your goodbyes to the Shelbys, despite Alfie’s annoyance and pointedly showing you his pocket watch, your heart felt fuller than ever before in your tortured existence. You entered your curious marriage an orphan and somehow along the way found you had a clan to call your own on two continents.

“Lead the way, husband,” you chirped as Alfie led you to his car.

“Aye, I should hope to finally lead you away from the viper’s nest, wife,” Alfie grumbled, though you could tell he was only mildly annoyed. “Now that ya saved England with your damnable cousins might I humbly persuade you not to leave my side for the foreseeable future?”

“Why, Alfie, with talk like that people might think you grew fond of me.”

“People can well think what they fuckin’ like,” he scoffed and then kissed you the way he knew you liked to be kissed—like the world stopped for a second around you two and nothing mattered, just as long as your gangster husband would not stop kissing you.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader #swan song

193 notes · View notes

sleepingdeath-light · 10 months

Text

ideal type hcs ; disney princesses

requested by ; anonymous (12/06/22)

fandom(s) ; disney animated films

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; anna, ariel, aurora, belle, cinderella, elsa, jasmine, merida, moana, mulan, pocahontas, rapunzel, snow white, tiana

outline ; “Could you do a headcanons for the Disney princesses ideal types, and what they look for in a partner?”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

anna

anna would prioritise kindness and empathy in a partner above all else — someone who will stick their neck out to protect or help someone else without the expectation of a reward

someone who is capable on their own but who knows when to ask for help, and that isn’t too proud to admit their mistakes

someone who she can have fun with to escape the unending monotony and responsibility of royal life — but who will also stick by her side when the time comes to be serious

someone who loves her for who she is and not the money and status she represents

and bonus points if you get her big sister’s approval

ariel

ariel would pursue a partner who makes the effort to try and understand her — who will push through barriers (emotional, physical, linguistic) in order to make her feel heard and loved

someone who she can have fun with without being made to feel irresponsible or childish — who isn’t afraid to act foolish or silly with her

someone who is affectionate with her, who can match her need for physical touch and such without her needing to beg

someone who isn’t afraid to take risks and do dangerous things if it’s for something you love — be that her or one of your passions

someone who is open and honest with her, who doesn’t belittle or infantilise her — who includes her in the conversation rather than brushing over what she has to offer

a lover who is as in love with the world and with life as they are with her

aurora

aurora would want a partner who is, above anything else, kind — kind to others, kind to the world and kind to themself

someone who isn’t afraid to laugh at themselves but who will always lend a hand or an ear to those who need it

someone who is honest and genuine, but who knows when not to be blunt in what they’re saying — someone who thinks before acting

someone who doesn’t feel the need to rush through life, who can enjoy taking things slowly and take in the simple joys — thinks like freshly made bread and the grass between your toes

she’d want a partner who she could be briar rose with rather than someone who’d expect her to just be princess aurora

belle

belle would look for a partner who is always willing to learn and grow — to change and adapt to the world without getting stuck in their ways

someone who she can joke around with and make fun of without receiving anything but full reciprocation in return — someone who isn’t afraid to be the butt of a joke every now and then

someone who is honest and open, someone who is comfortable around her enough to be honest and who trusts her enough to be open — which she’d reciprocate in a heartbeat

someone who takes the time to get to know her mind rather than stopping at her face — who sees her as an equal and not just a future wife

someone who can be themselves around her and who she can be herself around without judgement or hesitation — just love and folly and conversation

cinderella

ella is the type who would look for a partner that she can be herself around — someone who loves her for all of her passions and eccentricities and that doesn’t expect her to be perfect

someone who appreciates and accepts her independence, never pushing her into any specific role, without forcing her back into the position of complete isolation she was in growing up

someone who can make her laugh but that won’t shy away from her when she’s upset — who accepts her in her entirety rather than only sticking around when she’s happy

someone who holds respect and empathy for everyone no matter their background or appearance — who would have treated her kindly even when she was a house servant

all in all, ella would want a partner who loves her for her and who she doesn’t feel the need to hide parts of herself around — someone who lets her come into her own as a person whilst the relationship progresses

elsa

elsa would want a partner who understands her — who takes the time to learn her boundaries and respects them without question, as she would for them in return

someone who gets her hesitance and isn’t afraid of her because of her gift — they don’t have to admire it or be in awe, just see it as a part of her

someone who doesn’t mind the cold and who won’t force her to stifle herself again

someone who loves her family (chosen and given) as much as they can — who adores anna, jokes with kristoff and who respects the legacy and memory of her parents

she’d want someone who she can have fun with but that isn’t opposed to discussing things that are serious when needed

jasmine

jasmine values a partner who is spontaneous but not in an actively dangerous way — like they enjoy adventure but not putting other people in harm’s way

someone who is fun and adventurous and who is eager and able to show her the world beyond the walls she grew up in

someone unlike all of the stuffy, pompous suitors that come filing in and out of the palace doors every day

someone who isn’t afraid to be unique and affectionate and silly and childish no matter the company

oh and someone who likes cats because raja is here to stay

merida

merida looks for a partner who is as independent as her and who isn’t going to expect her to be reliant on them

someone who is capable on their own and able to handle themselves if the worst happens — whether that’s a war or a loss in the family

someone who loves her family or at the very least makes the effort to get along with them

someone who isn’t afraid to argue and bicker, who doesn’t expect everything to be all roses and sunshine all of the time and bails when things start to not look so perfect

someone who has a good sense of humour and is able to match her wit and jokes without taking offense

but most of all: someone who is looking for a life partner to have fun with, not someone to be subservient to them

moana

moana would seek out a partner who is able to match her energy and mind — who she can talk to without limiting or censoring herself

someone who respects tradition and routine without abandoning or scorning any chance of change and growth — who will support her in bringing her village to a new age of exploration

someone who is willing to step outside of their comfort zone every now and then, but who is able to tell her when they have reached their limit — someone who can be honest with her and who she can be honest with in return

someone who she can bounce ideas off of and who will come back with new routes and theories and concepts that she can bring to the community for approval

she’d want someone who is their own person and respects her independence, but who she can come together with to become better in one way or another — a partner that encourages her growth, not one that hinders or stunts it

mulan

mulan would value a partner who isn’t afraid to be daring and step outside of their comfort zone — someone who balances routine/expectations and growth/adventure in a similar way to herself

someone who isn’t afraid to challenge her and themselves — who is willing to make mistakes and stumble without giving up entirely

someone who loves adventure and taking risks, but that can also enjoy the quieter and plainer aspects of domestic life — cups of tea, star gazing and reading

someone who loves her for her — not for the warrior nor the maiden but for the woman behind that legend

she’d also want someone who respects her and her family without being a complete doormat who is unwilling to speak for themselves — independence mixed with politeness

pocahontas

pocahontas would look for a partner who is willing to learn and grow and isn’t too caught up in themselves and the past to do so

someone who is willing to be patient and listen to the world around them in order to understand it — the water, the wild life, the wind

someone who won’t stifle her need for adventure and who will help her explore the world — travelling together to see more of the world with open minds and open hearts

someone who will stick with her through it all — protecting, listening, learning and growing as a couple and as individuals through the good and bad parts of life

someone who isn’t too proud to be kind or too stuck up to have fun and make mistakes — because that’s what life is about

rapunzel

rapunzel would appreciate a partner who is able to match her enthusiasm and passion for life — or, at the very least, someone who can understand it

someone who isn’t afraid to let their guard down and get their hands dirty — who is happy to let loose and have fun

someone who will listen to her without judgement and who will support her when she’s at her lowest — and that won’t turn her down when she tries to help

someone that doesn’t yell or lie, someone that approaches arguments clearly and honestly — who sees it as ‘us vs the problem’ and not ‘me vs you’

someone who is able to let themselves be silly and stupid and childish and not feel the need to be serious and sad all of the time — someone who is able to be their full self around her

really, she just wants someone to be herself around who won’t judge her for it

snow white

snow would probably find gentleness an attractive trait in a potential partner — that and a willingness to be kind without the expectation of receiving any reward for it

she’s a gentle soul and wouldn’t be compatible with someone who is volatile or combative — especially during disagreements where she tries to seek out a compromise and speak concisely (us vs problem) instead of raising her voice and trying to be right (me vs you)

someone who can let go of their ego when necessary and let themselves be wrong when they’re wrong — someone who is reflective enough to know when they’ve made a mistake

someone who loves animals or who at the very least treats them with empathy and tries to help out where they can

someone who is honest with her but not blunt — being open without being cruel

oh and someone who loves her cooking and baking as that’s how she shows her love

tiana

tiana would look for someone who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty — who is willing to put in work to get what they want rather than just expecting everyone to do everything for them

she needs someone who is independent but that works well with others as well, a team player who doesn’t need to be told what to do in order to get things done

someone who will stick by her through the tough times — providing emotional support and labour when needed without judgement — instead of someone who will just lay low and only be with her during the good bits of life

someone who isn’t afraid to admit when they’re wrong and who isn’t too proud to be emotional and vulnerable — she needs honesty, really

or, in other words, she needs someone who understands and trusts her and that she can trust in return

258 notes · View notes

alastairstom · 3 months

Text

Happy first birthday to Chain of Thorns.

Happy first birthday to Matthew's sobriety, to Herondaisy and Thomastair and Arianna endgames, to Oscar Wilde: Hero Dog.

To "they would remain married, and in love, until the stars went out." To "kheli asheghetam: I love you, let me love you."

To Anna realizing that Ari brings out the best in her, to Kit and Grace inventing fire-messages, to Grace learning what it means to believe in herself.

To Christopher's seeing Grace for the first time before tragedy struck, to the honor of her opinion, to bright lilac eyes behind thick spectacles.

Happy first anniversary to Alastair letting himself become a bit silly, to Thomas figuring out how to kill the watchers, to James bravely letting Belial possess him so he could enact his plans.

Happy first anniversary to Matthew dressed as Puck, to Cordelia's globe necklace, to Christopher's experiments.

Happy anniversary to the entire group circling Cordelia as they walked into battle, to her becoming the merciful hero that she always dreamed of being. To 48 Curzon Street and 102 Cornwall Gardens and Anna's flat instead of a house in Pimlico with decorative sconces.

To Thomas telling Matthew he loves Alastair and Matthew's ready acceptance as long as his friend is happy. To James coming back to himself while possessed because of Cordelia's love that hell's power could not extinguish. To Thomas and Alastair kissing while war rages around him because they don't care who sees.

Happy first anniversary to a bunch of neurodivergent queer kids banding together at the end of the world in order to save it.

Happy anniversary to my favourite book, Chain of Thorns.

#chain of thorns #chot #cordelia carstairs #james herondale #jordelia #herondaisy #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #thomastair #matthew fairchild #grace blackthorn #christopher lightwood #gracetopher #ari bridgestock #anna lightwood #arianna

61 notes · View notes

mads-weasley · 2 years

Text

Coming Home to You

Bradley Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Just a small Rooster blurb for ya! Sorry it's so short lol!

Summary: Bradley comes home from a long mission and runs straight into his wife's loving arms.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff

Stepping off the plane, Bradley breathed in the fresh Californian air, happy to finally be home. He had been called on an overseas mission that was supposed to last a week but turned into a month. Due to the top-secret nature of the mission, the aviators weren't allowed any contact with their loved ones. This rule is what always shredded the couple to pieces. They were together almost 24/7 and talked constantly, so cutting off all communication was very difficult for both of them.

It was hard for (y/n) to come home to an empty house after a long day at work. She'd grown so accustomed to Bradley getting there a few minutes after she did, and now, she would just stare at the door. having to remind herself that he wasn't going to walk through it. As a week stretched into a month, she grew more and more anxious about Bradley's safety. Of course, every time he went on a mission, she was sick to her stomach with worry, but she had learned that the longer the mission, the more dangerous the mission was.

When she got the call from the base, her eyes welled with tears, immediately fearing the worst, but she sighed in relief when they said he was finally coming home.

Quickly driving to the base, she hurried to the fence outside the airstrip where families were told to wait. She watched as pilots started coming out of the plane and down the steps toward their loved ones. The second she saw a familiar head of brown hair and mustache, a beaming smile grew on her face as they made eye contact. Even though he had his aviators on, she could tell he saw her by the way his demeanor changed. Quickly descending the steps, he ran, bag in hand, towards his (y/n), who jumped the fence, not caring about protocol. She threw her arms wide with a smile, running to meet him halfway.

Bradley dropped his bag before wrapping his arms around (y/n)'s waist, her arms slinging around his shoulders as their lips collided. Pulling back slightly, Bradley scanned her face with a smile, kissing her again. Out of breath, they leaned their heads together.

"I've missed you, Bradshaw," she whispered, leaning against his chest as she hugged him tightly.

He leaned down and kissed her temple, squeezing her tighter. "I've missed you too, Bradshaw."

As the two shared a moment, Mav looked on from afar, unable to break his stare. The couple reminded him so much of Goose and Carole that his heart ached just watching them. He was broken from his trance when he heard Penny calling for him. With a sigh and a teary smile, he looked back at the couple one last time before going over to her, whispering to himself.

"You'd be proud, Goose."

Tag List: @calicoevening72 @ellieparker @misconceptionmistress @93joons @levylovegood @azari-anna @samthasworld @padf00ts-l0ver @thefuturewillbeprosperous @hockeyboysarehot @fangirlinc @littlewhiterose @pcotato @lundqvistisgod @theemeraldbutterfly @winteryoungie @ynbutbetter @n3ssm0nique @princessnnylzays @marchingicenotes7 @sarcastic-sourwolf @caitlyn221b @fogle97 @krmy2386 @storyteller-le @imagines-army @thatwh-0-re @calicoevening72 @americaarse @alexwinchester23 @juniebugg @luckyladycreator2 @shaunaelliott08 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @cassbntp @multifandom-loser @itsmebellaas @johnnycobra84 @pepelachanel @sbrewer21 @pumpkin-sage @craziblondi @lovemesomevesey @peaches-1999 @im-your-possession @chaoticassidy @dilfsandtherapy @callsign-milano @katiemcrae

2K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 month

Text

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on.

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy.

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it.

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves.

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed.

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine.

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

--------------------------

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once.

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot.

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting.

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number.

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside.

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was.

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing.

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation.

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

-----------------------

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me."

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her.

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

-----------------------

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner.

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry.

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out.

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her.

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch.

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from.

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea."

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod.

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked.

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

--------------------------

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

471 notes · View notes

fandom-go-round · 4 months

Note

Hello. Do you have any headcanons of Pig, Huntress and Artist (dbd) dating S/O, who's good at reading facial expressions?

Thank you for your patience Anon! I hope that you enjoy these!

Warnings: Implied Canon Typical Violence, Implied Unhealthy Relationships, Stalking, Questionable Mental States (Non Sexual)

The Pig:

Amanda appreciates that you’re so good at reading people. Or in this case mask expressions. She doesn’t like to take her mask off, even outside trails. This means that if you want to get to know her, you need to get to know her through the mask. Her mask isn’t very expressive but there are clues you can look for to figure out how she’s feeling. A head tilt means she’s listening, her head going back means she’s annoyed. Amanda says a lot with very little once you learn how to read her.

Her eyes show a lot of emotion and you often stand so that you can see them clearer in the light. She thinks it’s odd you’ll stand just off to the left or directly in front of her but there’s a reason. Pig isn’t going to stop you from doing what you want, even if it’s going to get you hurt. She thinks it’s funny when you go to get a better angle and then trip on a tree root or step into a hole. Her laughter might sound mocking but it’s one of the only times you hear her laugh so you’ll take it.

She will get jealous if you spend time reading the other killers like you do her. She wants to be special to you and takes that very seriously. Even if you’re only doing it to stay alive, a part of her is going to be huffy. Make sure to spend extra time with her or ask her what she wants to do. Amanda will take things into her own hands and if you really want to see her face, this might be a good way to gently hint that she needs to express herself. The Pig might grumble but she does care about you and wants you to be happy.

The Huntress:

It’s not something that Anna notices at first, she’s too busy watching you. You’re so interested in the world around you that it can be hard to look away. She’s drawn to you like a moth to flame. It takes some time for her to notice that more often than not you’re staring back at her. She knows that it’s hard to tell what she looks like and where her attention is, her mask is designed that way on purpose. Even so, you always seem to know when she’s watching and it makes her feel good to have so much of your attention.

It can unnerving to be the center of your attention; you read her so well and it makes her feel vulnerable. Anna isn’t use to being the one exposed, the one hunted. There’s a part of her that likes it and another that hates it. When she first realizes that you can read her like a book she’s not pleased, not taking it out on you but stomping around trials. As she gets used to it and understands that it’s part of how you express your affection, it gets a lot easier for her to handle. On bad days it can still be too much and she’ll end to spend some time alone before spending time with you again.

Anna is fairly neutral if you’re good at reading other people. It makes her smile behind her mask when you route other killers or tease the other survivors. She doesn’t get jealous easily but when she does, it’s with other killers who have masks. She knows the kind of focus you have to have to read them that well and it can make her feel insecure. Give her extra affection after trails like this and all will be forgiven.

The Artist:

She thinks that it’s fitting you’re able to read her so well. Carmina isn’t very expressive anymore and does her best to come off as cold and elusive. She can’t deny that she’s been drawn to you but the better you get at reading her, the more she wants to follow you. It’s your eyes she later realizes, when the urge to stalk is gone and she’s thinking about the trial. She loves your eyes; even more so when they’re fixed on her. She becomes determined to keep your attention as much as possible.

It’s not hard for Carmina to keep you entranced; she has a presence that’s hard to ignore but when you’re in her sights? You’re only torn away when it’s forced. It doesn’t start as love, it’s defiantly fascination but it goes from like to love quickly. She loves that she hardly needs to say anything, one glance and you know what she’s feeling. It’s a power rush she hasn’t felt in a while and she embraces it completely.

Carmina begins to show off when she knows you’re looking, making things seem completely random but it’s all for you. It’s flattering to see new pieces of art that relate to you in some way. It’s not super obvious but it may be more use of your favorite color or a landscape you enjoy. She’s not easily jealous but she does get annoyed if people have no idea you’re together. When she wants everyone to know they will and then her affection can overflow like a river.

83 notes · View notes

fuokir · 1 year

Text

Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth: 19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #aena cowell #hphl #hphl mc #hp oc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc

239 notes · View notes