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tuliprry · 2 years

Text

sparks - h.s.

summary: y/n meets harry, a much older man while she's on vacation in southern spain.. somehow 45 minutes are all it takes to fall in love

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cursing, divorce, DRAMAAAAA, age gap, sort of a daddy kink?, lot's of fluff

clover's notes: for some reason tumblr changed my paragraph structure and the little symbols i had to differentiate the moments 🥲 i'll try and fix this

word count: 8.5k

y/n’s pov - august 1st

the sun shined through the hotel curtains and i groaned, i tapped my phone's screen and read 8:35am, it's so hot right now i can actually feel my brain frying, i turned on the air conditioner and closed my eyes. i have been in marbella for a day, i work at a hotel in london and in a hotel get together last month i won a week at the exact same hotel but in marbella. i could've invited a friend or even a cousin but truth be told i need this week away from everyone, my job, my family, school, seriously everyone and everything back in london. i groan once more, 8:39am, fuck this shit i'm getting up. i took a short cold shower in hopes the spanish weather would not eat me alive as soon as i stepped foot outside, i dressed a white dress with little white flowers and beige sandals with a semi decent heel, i grabbed my tote bag and threw in a book, my airpods, sunscreen and my wallet. I grabbed my sunglasses and my room card and was out my bedroom, to be honest i didn't want to go out of the hotel and visit, my entire body is honestly needing a piñacolada and a sweet calming time reading my book, which consists of beach reach by emily henry.

the pool area isn't too packed, likely because it's only 9am, i walk over to the bar area and i must've looked desperate ordering that piñacolada because the barman looked at me like i'm some sort of weirdo, maybe its the drinking alcohol at 9am on a tuesday but you see, being 23 and struggling with a master thesis, strangers and a job and your family trying to set you up with a guy you despise from your high school years you might end up just like me. as he prepared my drink i walked over to a sun lounger that hid completely in the shade and dropped my bag on top of it, only taking my wallet back to the bar, "the gentleman already paid for you", i read the name tag on the barman's t-shirt, miguel and almost repeated it out loud to ask him who the gentleman was but miguel was already talking to someone else. i look over the round counter of the bar and there's a very nicely put man with whiskey in a cup in front of him, yikes, must be having a harder week than me. "enjoy your drink" he spoke loudly enough for me to understand it, "thank you for paying for it", i reply taking a sip through the brown paper straw, "ah you're british?" he questions as he plays with his glass, "yeah, are you?" i ask, keeping an eye on my bag, "yeah i am, i come to málaga often so i've got a nice tan", he's sounds so smooth, his words aren't slurring after each other like i do, he speaks slowly but in a sexy way which gets me mentally slap myself. "if you don't mind, i left my bag over there and i have a romance waiting for me, thank you once again for the drink... that was very kind" i announced getting off the high stool and walking away before he could give me a response.

i felt weird the rest of the morning, i couldn't focus on my book nor listen to music, my brain remained stuck on the man from the bar, jesus, i came here to get away from trouble and i'm definitely just burying myself in a big one that happens to dress nicely, my eyes scanned the book one more time, oh this is ridiculous! i have read this sentence a thousand times today and i can’t seem to wrap my head around it. i looked over the book, just to take a peek at the man one more time but he wasn’t at the bar counter anymore, i pout and grab my phone, scrolling through instagram.

"margarita?" a large shadow covers the little sunshine that was warming my body up, "huh? oh! hi mr british man", i smile to him and my stomach feels bottomless for a second, i sit on my sun lounger as i grab the glass, "so... will british man finally tell me his name?" i ask sipping on the margarita, he sits on the lounger next to mine as he sips on something that definitely isn't a margarita, "i'm harry, you?", "i'm y/n!" i sound way too excited but he smiles at me, "and what does beautiful y/n do in marbella all by herself?", his eyes look like they're undressing my soul, dead ass staring me, "well um, im a masters student and i'm under a lot of pressure so i won this free week at the hotel... and you?", i try to stare him the same way but i end up looking like what my dad calls, angry puppy, "i own a winery and a wine cellar and my wines are very well loved so they also offered me a week over here" he takes another sip of what i now assume it's wine disguised in a margarita glass, "oh! i wouldn't take you as a wine owner" i blurt out, "no?", "well you look like a young writer and you're here to get inspired! or maybe it's just the plot of the book i'm reading" i point at the book and play gently with the little paper umbrella on my glass, "i'm not a writer nor young but i'm glad i still look interesting" he seems genuinely content that i just thought he was just a little older than me, "before you ask.. i turn 39 in february", i almost immediately reply "god thats so hot" but i swallow my words, "i'm 23 and i'm far from being interesting harry, look at me im a 23 year old reading romances hiding from glorious spanish sun and im a masters student in theatre arts that is currently doing a thesis in contemporary musicals and performance.. god i need a sip" he's smiling at me, i don't know why because i feel like i just said the most boring phrase for regular people, "that is very interesting, y/n, at 23 i had no prospects for my future so... you're doing good", oh that was it, my stomach felt even more out of my body with that small praise, i feel my cheeks burn and i try to look away from harry, feeling like a shy child.

it's been 45 minutes and we're still talking, i can't help but stare at him more than i should, so much so i immediately said yes when he asked if we could have lunch together on his boat, didn't even have the decency to think for a minute before getting back to him, truth is sometimes my mind slips to my ex boyfriend, we broke up a month ago and when i opened instagram on the airport yesterday, there he was, spending money on a hotel with a beautiful girl and i had to hold my tears from crying on my first day of vacation and now here's this man.. man... a man! asking me to have lunch on his yacht and it gets my brain so intoxicated with dopamine making a little gentle smile pop up in my lips.

on a small boat, a spanish man took us to harry's yacht, that read "brisa parisina" (parisian breeze), i had never been this close to a yacht ever, my times at the sea were always a month in cornwall with my dad after him and my mum got divorced and we stayed back in london so my siblings and i wouldn't have to change schools, but i had never been so close to such a big boat, harry thanks the man and hands him a 50 euro bill and i gulp looking at the big tip for a 5 minute trip from the deck to harry's yacht, but it’s his money so i try to not show my shocked face as he steps out of the small boat to the ladder that leads to what i assume the deck of the yacht, he reaches his hand out for me and i say “muchas gracias” to the man and get on top of the boat with harry’s help. the immediate thing i see is the light brown flooring that has grey cushions on top on the right and left, leaving a small path towards the helm station that controls the boat that has sofa looking like cushions on both sides and a small table. harry keeps walking through that and gets down the most tight staircase i’ve ever seen and been on, there’s a table, a big tv, and more sofas and even art hanging in the walls, a kitchenette with lots of storage place, four oven tops, a microwave, a sink bigger than mine at home and a small fridge and freezer, my stomach starts to hurt, i had realise this man was rich.. but like not i have a huge yacht rich, right after the kitchen (that even has a small wine compartment and a huge cooking space that has me speechless), there’s another small door that leads to a suite, a huge bedroom that i would not say was behind the tiny door and a very decent sized bathroom. “you can leave your bag here” harry points at the bed and i nod, “there’s another two bedrooms and bathrooms on the other side of the yacht but they’re pretty much the same, just smaller”, not one but two bedrooms? i take my phone out of my bag and type in the brand of the boat on google, 1 million pounds, i almost let a scream out of my mouth as i read the price and then the costs of maintaining a boat like this and my asos dress suddenly feels like a potato bag. i can see harry from where i’m standing, he’s opening a bottle of red wine and i’m tempted to google the price of it too.. but i don’t, i locked my phone and threw it to the bed along with my stuff and walked back to him.

“okay you have to try this wine, it’s a cabernet sauvignon from my winery in italy, it has a black cherry and black pepper flavour but i think you’ll enjoy it” he hands me a glass, “do you like mushroom paté? i have some we can snack on as i make lunch” i take a sip of the wine and god, i’ve never had red wine this good, in fact i think i’ve hated all the times i had red wine, “i’ve never had wine this good.. nor mushroom paté.. sorry” i can feel my cheeks flush and i look out the small window above the sink, staring at the blue ocean, harry gets closer to me and he looks way taller when he’s this close, “good thing there’s a first time for everything, right?” he whispers but almost melodically, “can i kiss you?” his tone remains the same, give me goosebumps that led to a broken “yes” and placing the wine glass on the kitchenette counter. his hands met my face, both his thumbs on my cheeks, he firstly gives me a peck and then proceeds to kiss me with more passion this time, his tongue in sync with mine, one his hands that was holding my face drops to my waist, pulling me closer to him, i can feel him smile in between the kiss and i open my eyes, “what’s so funny?” i ask trying to make an angry voice, “you taste good that’s all”, “oh yeah?”, “taste very good” he then kisses me again, this time shorter. “what do you want for lunch?” harry opens one of the cupboards over my head and takes a cream coloured saucepan with a brown wood handle out, “you invited me harry i don’t know”, “what about truffled macaroni with smoked haddock and then i let it bake for a bit?” i’m pretty sure i’ve never had haddock in the first place, “harry.. sorry to ask, what’s.. a haddock?”, i feel embarrassed, telling a 38 year old man i’ve never had.. whatever he mentioned, “oh! it’s a fish.. i can always make it vegetarian if you prefer?” i smile to him, “how did you know i want to be a vegetarian?” i furrowed my eyebrows, “i didn’t but i’m a flexitarian so i have tofu in here”, i’m starting to believe this man is too good to be true, “you know i have to follow the times and eating less meat and fish is a way to help the planet”, okay i need to get into his pants now this isn’t a joke, “wow”, “what?”, “nothing, i’m not used to hanging out with men that are educated on these things” i say honestly, he gives me a shy smile and points to the oven, “want to help me cook?”, “yeah of course”.

after lunch that was paired with a white wine that i honestly couldn’t pronounce, harry sailed the boat to further from the dock, i wouldn’t say we were in the middle of nowhere but we weren’t exactly somewhere i could pin point, my phone even says my location is the mediterranean sea. i’m laying down on the deck sofa’s in the shade as harry is now coming back upstairs wearing only black and white swim shorts and flip flops, “why aren’t you catching some sun, y/n? it’s a great day” he sits next to me, grabbing my legs and putting them on his lap, “i’m terrified of getting a sunburn, i got one a few years ago in sandymouth and i couldn’t sleep for two weeks, i don’t need that again” i sighed closed the book i’m yet to read properly, “oh you’re from cornwall?” harry asks, “my dad lives in plymouth but i’m actually from london, i mean i was born in romford but yeah… you?”, “well i’m from a small town near manchester but i live in london for.. 20 years now”, 20 years… god he was 18 when he moved to london, i was 3 when he was 18 oh my god, “i’ve actually never been to manchester” i admit, i don’t know how is that any interesting but it’s the truth, “whenever you want to, i’m more than happy to show you around” he offers as he stars to rub my legs.. gently, i honestly feel like moaning and he’s not even doing anything too special, “do you mind if i work a little bit next to you?” he doesn’t stop the massage on my right leg, “shouldn’t this be your vacation, harry?”, “it should but-“, “no buts! let me get up lets find something to do” i say enthusiastically, i sit next to him and grab his hand, “do you have any games? we just ate so i don’t think swimming in the cold water is good for us”, “i think my goddaughter left a unicorn cards game when she was here with me” he affirms, “GREAT! let’s play”.

“unstable unicorns, build a unicorn army, betray your friends, unicorns are your friends now” harry reads off the box, to explain quickly, you start the game with one baby unicorn of your choice, and then the deck is shuffled and u get 5 cards, those can be basic unicorns, magic unicorns, magic cards, upgrades, downgrades or a neigh (that stops the other players play), i explain exactly the same to harry, i had played this game with my friends and harry didn’t fully remember how to play, “i pick this baby” i say grabbing a rainbow coloured baby unicorn card, harry picks a pink coloured baby unicorn and says, “this is my god daughters favourite baby”, i smile at the thought of harry with children, “how old is she?”, “she’s 8, we spent her 8th here actually” he observes as he shuffles the deck and places 5 cards in front of each of us, i grab my cards and i try to hide the little smirk on my face, “y/n start you’re the one wearing a colourful bikini” he looks over to me and i place a basic unicorn next to the baby unicorn, “look harry it’s you” i point at the unicorn with a beard, “oh are you calling me basic y/n?” he fakes an angry tone, “no! i’m just saying this very cute unicorn is you because of the beard!” i reply pretending to be offended he thought i was offending him, “don’t be upset, little girl, i was just messing with you” oh good grief i can feel my stomach doing flips, he plays a basic unicorn as well and the came continues, with actions and neighs and yelling at each other over downgrades that made me sacrifice one of my unicorns which led to me stealing harry’s baby unicorn, “HA!” i scream, “I GOT YOOOOOU” she giggles as she places the pink baby on her stable, “y/n! not the baby!” he pouts and stares at his game, i didn’t know he was a sore loser but he seriously looked very upset, i got up and stood next to him, “harry i didn’t mean to upset you it’s just a game, i’ll give you your unicorn back” i affirm, “harry c’mon” i squat so i can look at his face from under, “i’m sorry” i place my hand on his thigh and he looks to me, “don’t be” i don’t even have time to process his words because his lips crash in mine and when i realise we are kissing again, i get up and he follows me, going back to my lips immediately after, running his hands through my shoulders and then my arms. “you scared me” i say in between kisses, “sorry.. it was just sweet to see you that worried about me” he whispers against my mouth, “i didn’t mean to upset you, h”, “you didn’t”, he gives me a little peck, “want to finish the game, unicorn robber?”, “HEY! and yes”.

i ended up winning the first game and harry the second so we were even but i couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses, i was putting the cards back in the box and harry was making us gin and tonic, “we could go for a swim don’t you think?” he suggests as he’s finishing the drinks, “i’m scared to swim without feeling the sand or ground harry, i’m not exactly tall like you” i admit, “don’t worry, i got you” he says as he places one of the cups in front of me, “i wouldn’t ask if i had intentions of not being there in case you need me, plus it’s 4pm the water must be so great now” he sits next to me and gives me a small forehead kiss before sipping on his gin, “sooooo”, “fine! but don’t let me go”, “i could never”. so we did end up swimming for a bit, mediterranean sea was warm and it felt good to swim with harry, i ended up sitting at the edge of the boat as he swam a little more, “you know you don’t look 38 right” i think the second glass of gin is making me too honest, “i don’t?”, “god no, you look max 28, i swear i was eye fucking you when i saw you sitting at the bar this morning”, “oh.. you were eye fucking me?” he furrowed his eyebrows as he swam back to me, sitting on the small space next to me, “tell me more” he emphasises on the more, “harry…”, i try not to sound worried, “yes?”, i get up and show him my hand so he can follow me, i sit on the sofa right next to the wheel, “i feel like i need to tell you this, i broke up with my boyfriend a month ago, he didn’t have time for me and he barely talked to me and it reached a point i was doing everything alone and i felt like i was the one fighting for my relationship and without me there would be nothing so i broke up with him” i vomit the words, “yesterday when i landed in malaga, he was posting stories on a hotel room with this girl i had seen comment his instagram posts and it really got to me.. and i don’t want to do anything without you knowing this” i breathe out and i feel relieved but worried about what harry could possibly say, “that fucking sucks y/n, i’m really sorry he did that to you, a real man would never do that” he cleans the tear off my cheek, “and i’m glad you told me, gives me more reasons to treat you like a lady deserves to be treated”, oh god here comes the butterflies again, “harry…can i kiss you again?” i ask and he nods, not waiting for me to make a move and kissing me again, salty from the sea and the small drips from our hairs falling onto our faces, “want to go downstairs?” he asks, “yes, please”.

“harry we’re wet you sure you want to do this now?” i ask mid kiss, “i need you so bad i don’t care”, his hands grab my face, “i just want to make you feel good, bunny”, harry purrs, i immediately press my thighs together to his words and especially the new nickname out of his mouth, “lay down for me, please” he murmured and i laid back as fast as i could, almost desperately harry’s hands meet then my pink high waist bikini bottoms, pulling them along my legs and throwing them to the ground, his hands separated my knees, giving him full view of my vagina, “fuck” he blurted, “can i taste you?”, my legs immediately feel like jell-o when he asks, “yes, yes please” i cried out. he licked his lips and proceeded to kiss my inner left thigh as his free hand massaged my right thigh tenderly, his index finger brushed against my slit, making me whimper to his touch, "god damn y/n" he breathed, "your pussy is so pretty, bunny, all wet... just for me", a couple of words and i was basically melting in front of this man, without warning his warm tongue flicks against my folds, i bucked my hips up and grabbed the sheets, holding onto them, my brain was fuzzy at this point, “harry… harry please” i cried out, i needed him so fucking bad, “hush bunny” i look down and his eyes are filled with lust as his lips part from my pussy, his middle finger slid right in, he eyes me and his mouth finds its way to my clit, gently nibbling on it as his finger thrust inside me, ��harry..” i moan as my vision literally starts to go black, “cum for me, bunny” he grunts and i let go of the sheets at the same time i cum in harry’s finger. he removed his finger at the same time his free thumb keeps stimulating my clit, he sucks his finger and then looks at me with a grin on his face, “you taste so fucking good”, but i don’t have time to reply, he’s cleaning the cum off my already so sensitive cunt.

he moves his body up to kiss me, there’s saliva running down his chin and falling onto my chest, “see how good you taste, y/n? fuck you’re driving me insane”, he untangles the straps of my bikini top, that ends up on the bedroom floor as well, “your tits are perfect”, he hungry says as he pinches my nipples, a hint of pain all over my body when he does that but it feels to good, his mouth is busy getting to know my other nipple, “i love that you taste like the sea” he admits. in a swift he takes his swimming trunks, his cock is pressed against my pussy and i’m so close to begging him to fuck me, hard. “harry.. i need you, please”, he kisses my lips one more time as his cock pushes in inside me, slowly, inch by inch, i was already so sensitive that whatever game this man was trying to play was making me dizzy, speechless. once he was all in, his thrusts became more rapid and in sync, hitting my g spot, his index finger was back on my clit rubbing it frantically, he kissed me and i could feel my heart racing and my pussy clenching around him, “harry, harry i’m gonna cum” my legs start shaking, “fuck fuck wait for me” he pleads and i hold onto his back, pressing my nails against it, my eyes roll back as he collapses inside me with one last thrust. shockwaves through my entire body feeling his warmth inside of me.

“has anyone ever told you..you give the best orgasms ever? fuck, you’re such a good girl” harry cooed, making my already flushed cheeks burn even more, “actually i.. i had never had an orgasm with anyone if not… myself”, harry looks at me dead serious as he carefully removes himself from inside me, “a day of firsts, huh, bunny?” he kisses me, “if you keep calling me bunny i fear i need you to fuck me again” i blur out, “oh yeah, bunny? how about we talk about it in the shower?”

by the time we were done in the shower it was too late to come back to the port deck so harry ended up giving me one of his t-shirts and briefs, “what do you want for dinner?”, he asks, grabbing the already opened bottle of red wine, “is it bad that.. i want to say you?”, “okay i know you said i don’t look old but twice in a day almost put me on cardiac arrest, little girl”, i giggle to his response and hug him from behind, “sorry! i think i’m intoxicated by you, i just need you so fucking bad”, he looks at me, pensive, “jesus christ, y/n…you’re a filthy slut aren’t you?” he turns around, looking me in the eyes, “you’re probably ruining my briefs just by thinking about me fucking you, am i right?”, i stand immobile, i can’t even find any words to describe how wet i am or how he’s completely right, “aw, did i make my princess speechless?”, he gets his face closer to mine, “if you behave like the good little girl i know you are..maybe just maybe, daddy will take care of you before bed” he turns around getting various vegetables out of the fridge, “care to help me, princess?”, i gulp and quickly reply, “yes of course”.

i woke up to harry’s typing on his laptop, i groaned as i stretched my arms and legs next to him, “harry… you told me you wouldn’t work c’mon” i sit and place my head on his shoulder, “sorry, my ex wife sent me an email saying she wants the yacht for the 21st of august and i was telling her no because i got the yacht on the divorce”, my smile fades and it’s like i’m close to throw up, ex.. ex wife.. he was married? oh. “oh.. your ex?.. wife?”, he closes his laptop and places his hand on my thigh, “yeah, we got divorced 5 years ago” he squeezes my thigh as he speaks, “you don’t need to worry y/n.. 24 hours with you made me feel more alive than 2 years with her”, he kisses my forehead and i smile to myself, god what is this man doing to me, i’m here jealous over an ex wife and happy i won something she’s not even in the race for, “harry” i say, “yeah?”, “can we go back to marbella? i really want my clothes” he laughs and nods in agreement.

back at the hotel, harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, “harry i’m not sure i should join you to golf.. you’re golfing with santiago hernandez, my literal boss!”, “and have u ever met him?”, “no he has never been to the london hotel in the 2 years i’ve worked there but that doesn’t mean it’s not weird” i turn my back to him, “zip my dress up, please?” i ask, he zips the yellow sundress up carefully, “y/n just join me, princess, if he asks just say you work for me”, “yes, because i’m a great wine expert!” i mock him as i gesture my hands, indicating that harry is insane. “i can always say you’re my wife, my very sexy wife”, he pulls me closer and buries his face in my boobs, “i can even mark you up, so he knows you’re all mine” i feel my panties soaking already, “harry.. fine! but just because it’s a very good argument” i try to hide the smile on my face, “but care to explain how are we married without wedding rings?” i raise his chin up, “we can always buy them”, “harry i have £64 on my account, i can maximum buy a claire’s ring that will turn my finger green” i give him a gentle peck, “oh no no you’re MY wife, i’m buying you a wedding band… if he asks your engagement ring is getting cleaned”, “you really thought this through, huh?”, “when it comes to you, i don’t see money, princess, i’m spoiling you for as long as you want me to” he kisses my neck, “about those marks… can i please?” i let out an “mhm”, i loved how harry constantly asked me for consent but at the same time was assertive and a couple of words would literally make me ruin a pair of panties.

i looked in the mirror before leaving, noticing the hickey on my left boob, i tried to brush off my thoughts but i just couldn’t. harry was matching me, yellow pants and green polo, looking way too good for my thoughts to go away, i can’t play golf, in fact i think i’ve only played mini golf my entire life, “sweetpea, do you prefer gold or silver?” harry asks, looking at a collection of wedding bands, “i personally like gold more” i say, looking at a pair of golden hoops with daisies dangling from it, “do you like them?” harry looks over my shoulder, “yeah they’re pretty…. don’t even think about it” i give him a “mean” look, “fine! just choose the band you like the most” he says pointing at the golden wedding bands, “that one is pretty and simple”, “then that one it is”. he’s purchasing the wedding bands and i stand next to him just staring, “it’ll be those daisy earrings too”, he points and i gasp, “harry no?”, “y/n yes.. it’s my money, just let me get them.” he hands in a black card to the salesperson and i hold his free hand, still a little upset. harry drives us to the los naranjos golf club, before we get out of the car, each of us puts the wedding band, i feel so weird at first, i’ve never been a good liar and this was a big fucking lie. at the reception harry shows his membership to the club and then points at me, “she’s my wife”, i press my lips together so i don’t say something i shouldn’t and i stand there eyeing the red haired woman, “oh we can put your wife down for a membership”, she points at a computer screen, “maybe later, would that be okay?” harry’s arm is wrapped around my waist, tightly. “yeah of course, mr. styles, here’s your wife’s pass for the day”, she hands me a laminated pass that proves i can he there for the day and we make our way in, harry gripping onto my waist still, “oh hello harry” a tall man with brown hair a beige hat speaks up as he walks in our direction, “santiago! hey man”, i gulp, to be totally honest i had never seen the man that pays my paycheck so i just hold harry as well, hoping he does all the talking, “you got remarried?” santiago asks laying his eyes on me, “yeah dude, it was a very spontaneous thing but i couldn’t wait any longer”, harry smiles at me, “this is y/n.. y/n this is santiago” he introduces us and i reach my hand but santiago comes in for a kiss on each cheek, “it’s how we do it in spain” he exclaims. “will y/n be playing with us?” before harry can reply i let out a laugh, “god no i’ve never payed golf”, “play with us sweetpea, i’ll teach you”.

“i’ve only ever played mini golf with my nephews”

“you have nephews?”

“yes two and they always lose”

“it would be bad if you lost mini golf to children don’t you think y/n?”

“oh yeah? i bet u a thousand kisses that i win mini golf back in london”

“you’re on, princess”

it’s been an hour and a half, i’m sitting on the golf cart, drinking a mojito as i wait for my turn to play, a woman that i assume is santiago’s wife is also sitting here, she’s not playing though, she’s on the phone talking about pta meetings and dentist appointments, she sometimes glances at me and does a very disgusted face, “y/n! baby! it’s your turn” harry screams, i place the mojito on the cart and i run to him, “help me?” i kiss him and he places himself behind me, “i know exactly what you are doing y/n and it’s not funny” he whispers in my ear and puts my arms in the correct angle, “be a good little girl for me, yeah?” harry then kisses my cheek and moves my arms so the club hits the little white ball. “i think santiago’s wife hates me” i mention it to harry, grabbing his hand, “what? why? did she say anything to you?” his relaxed expression is now a worried one, tensing his eyebrows, “no.. she just looks at me weird” i sigh, “is she.. friends with your ex wife?” i regret the question the moment i ask it, “yeah.. she is, i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t even think about it when i asked you, she usually doesn’t even come to our games.. i’m really sorry, princess” i frown as he explains, his lips kiss my forehead, “it’s okay” i lie, walking back to the cart, drinking the rest of my mojito.

harry’s pov

after the game y/n ran to the bathroom, the mojito really took a toll on her bladder, so i’m outside with santiago and phillipa, i feel tense just thinking that phillipa could’ve possibly mentioned lauren to y/n or mentioned y/n to lauren, “so harry, santiago told me you got remarried… i asked lauren and she had no idea” phillipa says with a cynical tone, “that’s because lauren is my ex wife, she doesn’t need to know what i do with my life” i snark back, “and isn’t your new wife.. kinda young” phillipa strikes again, santiago touches her arm and i breathe in, “she looks like she’s still university… oh wait she is! isn’t that weird, harry? marrying a woman that is maximum 24?” her words ringing in my ears, “phillipa mi amor, don’t” santiago says sternly, “what? santiago she’s much younger than him, would u go for a younger woman?”, “he’s divorced he can do whatever he wants, pipa, c’mon!”.

and then i see her, with two ice cream cups on her hand, “they had the absolutely disgusting mint chip” y/n hands me the cup, “yuck” she exclaims, “oh.. sorry guys i didn’t know what flavours you liked”, i don’t know how this woman does it, has me grabbed by the throat, completely whipped when i’ve known her for a little over 24 hours. “oh that’s okay y/n” santiago says, “pipa and i were just leaving… i’m sorry harry” he says as he shakes my hand and leaves, semi yelling at phillipa. “what happened?” y/n asks, grabbing a scoop of her pistachio ice cream, “nothing, want to go back to the hotel?”.

the next 5 days fly by, y/n moved her stuff into my room and we have been doing everything together, so much so we have not taken the wedding bands off, y/n asked if we could keep wearing them and i couldn’t say no, i could never say no to her. so we are now at the málaga airport, y/n is going through a romance section of books in english and telling me how she has read at least 90% of the books in there, “harry my tummy hurts, do you have any paracetamol with u?” she asks and i get out of my daydreamy state of mind, “i think i do, what’s wrong?” i open my tote bag and hand the tablet to y/n, “my period must be starting soon”, “oh nooo my sweet princess, do you want a kiss?” i don’t wait for her reply and start kissing her face, “are you sure you want to.. continue this back in london?”, “what? y/n, i’m so sure of this.. of us.. i’m still wearing a fake wedding band for you..i’m 100% sure.”

y/n’s pov

life back in london has definitely been special, minus the fact that whenever i say i’m sleeping over at willow’s i actually mean i’m staying at harry’s and i use the name of his cat.. but other than that, things are good, harry presented me to some of his friends, goes to musicals with me, ended up meeting my younger sister milly, to drop off a christmas gift at my house, making my youngest sister jane force me to facetime harry on christmas day so she could meet him too, a very persuasive 15 year old.. and god the sex, i don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun in my life ever, this man just knows exactly how to treat me right, driving me completely insane at times.

6 months later

today is harry’s birthday, i spent my morning in class and basically prayed the tube would be fast as fuck so i could be at harry’s house by lunch time, i got there around 2:13pm, starving, i opened harry’s apartment door and was greeted by willow, “oh hi my sweet girl” i say enthusiastically, “where’s your dad” i chase willow to the kitchen, harry is naked, only wearing an apron as he cooks what i bet it’s his tomato and beans pastry, “i don't know what looks better, my husband naked or your famous pastry” i giggle as i put my bags on the floor and run to kiss him, “happy birthday my love”, i kiss him again, “to your question, both are great things, second, thank you, princess” he kisses my forehead, “okay! i have your gifts, do you want to open them now?” i ask grabbing the bags i put on the floor, “three bags? y/n i told u to not spend money on me” his tone is demanding, almost mean, and i can’t help but love it, “oh one of these i have to put on and you take it off, ya know?” his eyes widened, “oh i do know” he smirks. harry’s gifts are an intimacy card deck for us to play on our stay in date nights, the lingerie set with hearts that he said and i’ll quote “would love to fuck you in this” so..i got it and an electric wine opener, personalised with his name, “fuck princess, you treat me so good” this kiss is more passionate than when i got home, “do you want me to put this on?” i question him, innocently, “yes fuck yeah baby please”.

sex with harry is always a religious experience, doesn’t matter if it’s morning, afternoon or night he always finds a way to exhaust the life out of me… in a very good way, harry is on his laptop looking for the same lingerie set, because even though i asked, he ripped the bra trying to get it off, my legs still feel wobbly, i check the time on my phone and it’s 5pm, our dinner reservation is only at 8pm so i have more than enough time to rest, i look at myself in the bathroom mirror, god i look like i’ve been through a tornado, i take my eyeliner (or the rest of it) off and brush my hair putting it on a ponytail, i pee and i go the bedroom to get a new pair of panties, “harry where’s my care bears robe?” i ask mid yawn, “behind the bathroom door, love” i nod and put the fake wedding band on my finger, i see harry smiling to himself, “oh shut up” i say walking into his bathroom again and putting on a dark pink robe with various care bears drawings that matched the care bears slippers, this was one of harry’s christmas gift to me, he said he had never met anyone that loved care bears as much as me, i smile at the memory. the doorbell rings and i get out of the bathroom, “get dressed harry it’s likely a friend of yours to wish you a happy birthday”, “oh when did you get so demanding”, “c’mooooon get dressed old man!”.

i run downstairs and i open the door, “..you’re not harry” the woman grunts, “no….i’m his-“, “oh you’re the new wife.”, “um.. i’ll go get.. harry” i’m so confused by this woman i just rush upstairs again, “there’s a woman at the door” i sit in bed, petting willow, “a woman?”, “yeah.. mid 30s.. brunette.. brown eyes, gucci bag” i try and describe her, “oh” that’s all he says. “oh? why oh? who is that- oh” i put two and two together, i had always told harry i didn’t want to know who his ex wife was and that came right after me, “come with me, please, i don’t want to be with her alone” harry lets out a loud sigh, “of course harry” in reality i’m shitting myself. he goes ahead of me and she has made herself at home, sitting on the sofa, “what do you want, lauren?”, she gets up and goes to hug him but harry immediately stops her, “oh is that how you greet your ex-wife?.. didn’t take you for a rude person, harry. i guess your new wife has changed you” bitch, bitch, BITCH, is all i can think, my blood is boiling so hard, it feels illegal to be angry in care bear clothing. “you’re my ex wife for a reason, can you please tell me what the fuck do you want?” harry puts himself in front of me and i clench my fists out of anger, “came to wish you a happy birthday, baby”, “my god lady will you please get the fuck out” i yell, i don’t know where that came from but i feel angry and upset and close to beating her up if she doesn’t leave my home, i mean, harry’s home. “what? are you gonna let her speak to me like that?” she looks offended, good. “yes, get out of our home, now”… our home. our home.

harry and i don’t talk about what happened until we’re at the restaurant, he’s wearing a white shirt that isn’t buttoned all the way up, black pants with golden buttons and black loafers, he had a big heavy black coat on top that is now on the back of his chair, i’m wearing a ruffled light blue dress with spaghetti straps, the dress reaches my mid thigh and it’s freezing in february so i have tights on, my white doctor martens and a puffy jacket that is on my chair as well. he holds my hand on top of the table, “y/n.. i only love you, please know that.. well you and willow”, “i love you so much harry, i’m sorry this day isn’t your best birthday”, “don’t be silly, i spent 38 dreadful birthdays, i’m glad 39th is with the love of my life.” harry orders the wine for us, as usual, we both happen to go for pasta dishes… which let’s be honest is also the usual, “harry i’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” he nods as he’s munching on garlic bread. as i get out of the bathroom i see my older brother, angus, standing in front of me, “angus??? what the fuck” i whisper-yell at him, “y/n? what are you doing here? did mum and dad invite u?” that question almost made me die in front of him, “mum and dad are here?? fuck no! angus, angus do not tell them i’m here please! i’ll babysit jacob and matthew anytime u ask me to, u don’t even have to pay me anything” i’m desperate at this point, “heeeeeeeeey okay that’s a very big promise y/n.. oh good lord are you here with that older guy? IS THAT A WEDDING BAND” he just yelled that to the entire restaurant, “angus shut up!” as i yell back to my brother. i see my dad staring at the both of us causing a scene in a restaurant, my dad just recently got remarried…to his husband… paul and things in the family haven’t been easy, especially between him and my mum, which led him to flee the table looking for my brother for some peace, “y/n cookie, what are you doing here?”, “dad i’m here with my boyfriend but can u please, please not tell mummy?” i hope he can sense the panic in my voice because i’m literally about to throw up. “okay cookie, breathe love” my dad side hugs me, brushing his fingers through my cheek, “angus and i won’t tell mummy okay? go enjoy your dinner, cookie” i breathe out the air i was holding in and go back to the table. “i was going to look for you, y/n, i was getting worried” harry sits back down, “why are you shaking, what’s wrong?”, “my brother, my dad, my nephews…and my mum are all here..we are so fucked harry, my brother saw the wedding band and i’m pretty sure my dad did too but he promised not to say anything to my mum………..that is walking in our direction right now” this is it. i’m fucked. i’m so fucked, i don’t even know why i’m fucked at almost 24 but i’m fucked because i hid my relationship with a man 16 years my senior from my entire family but my siblings and i’m fucked. “y/n y/s/n y/l/n why are your brother and your father trying to lie to me? who is this?” oh god, i only have time to hide my hand under the table and breathe in and out. “hi mummy… um i.. this is harry” i’m stuttering, “hello ms y/l/n” harry gets up and stares at her, not knowing exactly what to do, “and what are you to my daughter?”, “i’m.. her boyfriend”, “y/n what is this?” i try to speak but nothing comes out of my mouth, i had nothing planned, i was thinking of maybe introducing harry to my family on my birthday party so it would be easier, “um.. uh.. well.. you know.. he..” i take my hand from under the table and hide my face in both my hands. bad idea. “oh my god, you got married to this man? how old are you? 50?” she starts yelling and i feel small, if i didn’t have words before now i just don’t want to be here anymore, my brother is trying to calm her down, harry is explaining they’re promise rings and he’s 39 which in my mum’s head is now 50 and my dad is holding the twins by the hand.

what. a. fucking. birthday.

i’m sitting on a bench, crying, harry is talking with my brother and my nephews and my parents are sat, one on each side, “amelia, let me do the talking, okay?” my dad snaps at my mum, “we just got expelled from a restaurant because of you, let ME do the talking” i had never seen my father this mad, “cookie, i understand your mum’s point by seeing you with a much older man, but i don’t understand why you didn’t come to us”, he’s now doing the cheek thing again, “because mum would make the exact same scene and harry would just see me as the stupid little girl that still needs her parents approval though she’s 23” i pout, i truly feel like a child with my reactions, “listen y/n.. i didn’t mean to cause a scene, bubs, i saw the rings and you know harry looks much older than you and i thought he was trying to hurt you” i swallow my tears, “how.. how long have you been dating this man”, “since august”, “AUGUST?”, “yes i’m so sorry”, i let my tears out again, “no, y/n don’t say sorry.. i feel so hurt with myself that you didn’t felt like it was safe to tell us for 6 months.. do milly and jane know?” when she mentions my younger sisters my expression changes from sad to guilty, “angus, milly and jane all knew… but only milly met harry”, “milly met harry?”, “yeah harry dropped off my christmas present at home and milly was the one that helped him…remember my friend willow.. the one i sleep over a lot and got me the care bears robe.. well willow is the name of harry’s cat” i just sat there in silence, i looked over at harry and the twins and i was no longer listening to my parents, “harry” i call out, “please come meet my mum and dad”.

i get up and stand next to him, “mummy, dad, this is harry, my boyfriend” i hold his hand tightly, playing with his wedding band.. i frown my eyebrows, i had never realised, his band was engraved with our initials.

the end (or not)

taglist: @psicostyles@behindmygreyeyes@your-local-lesbian-on-lexapro@mvaldez7821@tiktokandtvismylife @silvermistwannabe @harrysgoldenhome @subbbyharry @buckybarnessimpp@gabshouse��@sassqwn @thegirlnextdoorssister @theanxietyqueen17 @michellekstyles

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xmenimagine · 7 years

Text

Imagine: Can I Have This Dance?

Requested by supershewholock. Includes: Charles Xavier x Reader. Request: • I have a Charles x reader imagine where someone at the school puts on a dance contest and the reader wants Charles to be her partner but he doesn't feel good enough because he doesn't have his legs. Can I have fluff please? You are a fantastic writer! Ability: Illusion- Ability to alter or deceive the perceptions of another. Can be sensory, a light or sound-based effect, or an alteration of mental perceptions. May overlap with reality warping when it is possible to interact with the illusions.

Note: My knowledge of any kind of dance only covers dad dancing, so, I won’t be writing much about it. I’m also the least romantic person I know, so, I’m going to wing it with the fluff. I hope you enjoy, Alex, sorry about taking so long. Also, I didn’t know how to end.

Somehow, Jubilee had roped Peter into siding with her on the idea of wanting a dance contest. It was almost midnight when they ran down the stairs of the mansion and into the kitchen—when they should have been asleep—knowing where you would be. Upon hearing their footsteps, you looked up from your laptop, coffee cup raised to your mouth, with a startled expression. Both of them tried getting through the doorway at the same time, both evidently getting stuck, grumbling to each other. After they tumbled into the room, skidded along the tiles, straightened themselves up, and made their way over to you, explaining their plan, they began asking if you wanted to join them. When you placed the coffee cup down, turning away from your laptop—that you had been previously staring at in order to finish off a paper that was due soon for your university—you raised an eyebrow, reminding them that Charles was the one who had to agree to it, not you.

Some of the students forgot that, even though you didn't attend the school at the mansion, you were a still student at a university nearby. Charles had offered you a place at the mansion while you attended for your course. It was mainly so you didn't have to look for a place to live, you didn't complain because everything seemed to be overpriced and working an average job just didn't pay for everything that you needed in order to live a semi-decent life while being a student and because you were a mutant too.

When Charles had found you, it was purely by accident. He had offered to make a speech at your university for the science department and stumbled upon you in a, supposedly, empty lecture hall. It was while you were getting ready to make a presentation for your morning class. There were no students on the campus and when he saw you, standing at the front, with your flash cards in your hand, talking to a hall full of students, he knew you were different. When you finished, he watched as the students seemed to fade away before you were the only one left. He moved into the room startling you while talking about how fascinated he was with your mutation. You were worried he would expose you to the school board, but he simply offered you a place to live, and a place to work on your ability.

That was over two years ago, and you were now nearing the end of your course, you only had a paper to complete, even though you had already finished your exams, your professor still wanted one last paper. Over the two years, Charles and yourself had grown closer, almost to the point where you could say that you were in a relationship, but neither one of you had said anything about it out loud.

Jubilee and Peter groaned, almost forgetting you didn't work at the mansion and agreed to ask Charles in the morning, leaving you to finish your paper in peace.

The next morning, just like they said they would, they pitched the idea to Charles, pretty much cornering him in his office and blurting out their ideas and plans. He simply smiled, leaning his arm against the armrest of his wheelchair while mulling over the suggestion. They had all been through so much, and just the prospect of having them act like children and simply relax and enjoy themselves for a night seemed to be something that Charles also wanted for the students.

When you arrived back to the mansion, after handing in your final paper for good, Jubilee made her way over to you, zipping in and out of the other students, making a direct beeline to you. You didn't even have time to set your bag down or get a drink before she linked her arm with yours, pulling you up to her room, claiming how she needed you to judge how her choreography was going so far. Her room, painted a bright yellow despite Charles' protests and warnings that the walls were not to be painted, was rearranged differently to the normal dorms. She had pushed her bed and desk chair out of the way to give herself more floor space. Jubilee pushed you to the bed, brushing her hair out of her face while she got the music ready. A small laugh bubbled from the back of your throat as you crawled onto the bed, leaning against the wall, with a pillow in front of you to rest your head on while your arms hugged it to your chest.

"Okay, so, I don't want you to speak until I'm done, okay?" Jubilee asked, turning around to face you.

With a smile, you nodded. "Of course."

Jubilee grinned, pressing play on the CD player. The music echoed around the room. The curtains to the window were pulled open and the sunlight shone into the room as Jubilee began her dance. She had cartwheels, twists, turns, a lot of complicated jumps, and strange hand movements choreographed into her dance, just watching her made your limbs ache and grow tired. By the time she finished, you could barely remember if she had made any mistakes—not that you would have known if they were mistakes or moves made on purpose—and simply told her that she was amazing. Jubilee seemed happy enough with your answer and let you leave, but not before she grabbed hold of your arm and smiled widely.

"You should enter too!"

With a nervous laugh, you shook your head. "Oh, uh, I don't—"

"Yeah! Yeah!" She ignored you. "You could dance with the professor!" Jubilee caught wind of your uncertain expression. "Oh, c'mon, it would be so romantic! Just imagine it! Think about it, for me," she told you, finally letting you leave for the rest of the night.

As you walked to your room, you couldn't help but think about it. It would be nice to just be carefree and join in, even if it wasn't the greatest dance, it could still be fun. The more you thought about it, the more you did want Charles to be your partner, but you doubted he would ever agree to it, he would have been too busy, or maybe he would be tricked into being a judge. Before you made your way to your room, you looked down the hallway—you were now on the ground floor where some of the other professors at the school had rooms—and saw Charles sitting in his office.

With a burst of confidence or possibly sheer stupidity, your feet moved away from your dorm room and towards his office. Your knuckles gently tapped against the dark wooden door, bringing his attention from the papers on his desk to you. A smile rose on his face as he ushered you in.

"How did it go?" He asked, referring to your paper.

"Good, good." You nodded. "I think I got carried away with how much I wrote, but, I can only hope for the best."

Charles nodded. "I'm sure you did fine. When I read over it this morning before you left, it seemed perfect." You couldn't help but smile, nodding in appreciation. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Charles," you breathed out. "And thank you, for, you know, allowing me to live here and use the library whenever I needed to, and for helping me with my mutation."

"The pleasure was all mine." He nodded back and watched you shuffle on your feet, playing with the ends of your sleeves that covered your hands. "Was there something you wanted to ask?"

"It's about the dance."

"What about it?"

"I was—" Your face scrunched up, rethinking it. "No, never mind," you mumbled, shaking your head.

"No, tell me," Charles spoke with a light laugh, obviously at the expression you pulled.

"Well, it's just…" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish. "Jubilee got me thinking, which I know is never a good sign, but maybe it would be fun to take part, you know?"

"You're more than welcome to take part, I see no problem with it," he replied.

A sigh escaped your lips. "I wasn't done."

"Oh," he commented with a shy smile.

"I wanted to ask if you would be my partner?" You bit the inside of your mouth, your heart picking up speed as the nerves got the better of you. Which was meant to happen during the contest, not now.

Charles looked down at the papers on his desk, picking them up to tap them against it, straightening them. "I see," he finally spoke.

"I was just wondering, you don't have to be my partner if you don't want to—"

"It's not that." He sighed.

"Then what—?"

"My legs," his voice grew quiet. "I can't move my legs, I wouldn't be much of a partner, you deserve someone who has the mobility of their legs."

With eyebrows furrowed, you moved around his desk to kneel in front of him, placing your hands on the armrest of his wheelchair. "Charles," you whispered, causing him to turn the chair to face you, still not meeting your gaze. "Look at me," your gentle voice made him look up at you. You placed your hands on top of his, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I don't want anyone else."

"Why?"

"Because nobody else is you."

"I don't—?"

"Just let me show you something, okay?" You asked quietly.

He nodded. "I'm trusting you."

"As you should."

Charles laughed to himself, watching you get up to close the door to the office. "What are you—?"

You held a finger up to your lips, he got the idea and remained quiet, only leaving a smile on his lips as he watched you edge closer until you sat on his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. "Close your eyes," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

When Charles did as you asked, you closed your own eyes, visualising the large empty room that Jubilee had been decorating with Jean for the dance. It was dark, but the large windows across one side of the wall still had the light from the moon shimmer through. Charles let out a breathy, mesmerised chuckle, being able to see what you were showing him. The ceiling in the room began to fade and was replaced by the sky, painted with small stars, shooting stars, and the edge of the moon. With a smile, you visualised him, standing in front of you, his hand outstretched and a loving smile brushed upon his features.

Taking his hand gently, he slowly pulled you close to his body, one hand around your waist while the other encased your other hand. The sound of soft melodic music began to rise. Charles smiled down at you and began to move with you in his arms. You could hear the thumping of his heart in his chest, underneath the crisp white shirt that he wore. You could hear his breathing, inhaling and exhaling. You could even hear him humming along quietly to the music that played.

Charles sighed softly, smiling to himself, watching as you showed the two of you together.

After a few minutes, it changed. He was no longer standing, but instead in his chair. From where your foreheads were touching you could feel him furrow his eyebrows together in confusion. But you didn't stop. Instead, you showed him how the two of you were now, simply holding each other in a warm embrace. His wheelchair slowly moving as if nothing had changed, the two of you still dancing faintly, together. You could hear Charles' breathing falter as you showed him that he didn't need his legs in order for him to dance with you. There was more than one way to dance with him.

You opened your eyes, slowly having the illusion fade to black. Charles still had his eyes closed, a blissful expression was left behind as you pulled your forehead away from his.

"Mobility doesn't matter to me, Charles," your voice was soft and barely above a whisper as you watched him reopen his eyes.

"Thank you," he spoke just as quietly.

"The pleasure was all mine," you repeated him from before.

Charles' hand slowly lifted from your waist, gently pushing the hair from your face, resting upon your face. "Thank you," he told you again, pulling your face closer as he pressed his lips to yours.

#Charles Xavier #professor x #x men #charles xavier imagine #professor x imagine #x men imagine #imagine

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frogsandfries · 5 years

Text

I was gonna write a blog, but I forgot why

I guess I can talk about a couple things.

I decided to start taking the dog for walks. I just started yesterday, but I feel good, and she loves it. We started out walking about twenty minutes and I'm still working out how to cover more ground without stressing her out walking next to traffic. I guess I never realized how walking helped me wake up, because with my friend from Arizona, I only ever walked to work, usually on a weird schedule. I feel a lot more aware, a lot more vibrant. Elevated. I like to walk hungry.

Oh, I don't think I mentioned, the other day, I got a referral when I was eating out with my dad and sister. The place we were eating is desperate for help; I have very recent food service experience and I'm desperate for a job. I'm going to see if I didn't lose that app, and maybe I'll take it back yet this week. If it's part-time, that leaves time to keep working on charms and if it's full-time, that'll be awesome for saving.

My dad has decided to keep Knuckles, the white van that I sunk so much effort into, and he's just going to sink in whatever expense he feels like, take on the whole project, finish the interior. I wasn't really planning to go back to that van. In my opinion, something newer, something I don't have to worry about struggling to catch up on mechanical stuff, is a better match for me. I only want to focus on the interior. Also, I'm willing to pay a little more for room to stand, which will be essential for at least my shower, but I also really would prefer the option to stand at my desk. I'm almost definitely going to make any custom furniture(and honestly, it will probably all be custom) from EPS, because as I've mentioned previously, I want the furniture to be as lightweight as possible. The less the furniture weighs, the better my mileage will be.

It would be kind of awesome to have my desk in front of the door, to be able to work on the verge of the outdoors. Additionally, after my time in Arizona, my belief in those thermal felt curtains has been redoubled. The trick may be moot in humid Wisconsin, but somewhere like Arizona, light=heat.

I'm so incredibly homesick for mountains. Ever since I was little, I wanted to see the mountains for myself. As an adult, I figured I probably wouldn't like the mountains as much as I had imagined as a kid. I figured it would be one of those things where you build it and build it in your imagination until reality has no way to match your anticipation, but this was probably impossible. For me, I don't think I had a way to over-anticipate how it would be to live in the mountains, so actually being there ended up being absolutely nothing like I imagined, but better than I ever could have imagined.

Additionally, I'm an absolute nut for the stars. I had no idea, no way of imagining, how vibrant and amazing the view of the stars could be. I'm definitely hooked.

Right now, from my state of chronic instability, having money for a decent semi-stealth van seems like a fantasy. I haven't had a stable job since Wal-Mart--just over two years now. I can talk big talk about how I could've stayed at my job in Arizona, but from this perspective, we'll never know. I did put in proper notice, and I did express interest in coming back, so maybe after I finish my degree, I can test my theory. For better or worse, I think my van combined with a part-time job is really optimal to let me get my charms off the ground, but also keep some cash in my pocket.

Honestly, when I get the van, I'm really hoping for a stripped out van. I'm going to do the same insulation sandwich as last time, but I'd rather do half-inch foil foam. Of course, foil out, maybe one-inch pink foam, and another half-inch foil foam, foil in. Once it's insulated, I'm hoping to have the curtains done. Then literally, when the interior is finished, I will move in with just a counter, toilet, shower and bed. I will eat dry cereal if that's what it takes to finally have my own place and space. I kind of can't wait to put together my power supply and all that. It's just a majorbummer that I'm going to have to start entirely from scratch. Also, it's annoying; I didn't even benefit financially from every last thing I sunk into Knuckles.

I think this time, instead of trying to buy all the materials as I have the money, I might buy a stash of gift cards and label them for the material. Then, maybe when I've bought a van, if I have to, I could rent a storage bin and work. But it would obviously be preferable to have at least a driveway next to wherever I'm living. Especially during summer, if I don't have the power going. Oh, that's right, I was going to put the power in first, so I wouldn't run into the same issue with dangerous temperatures inside the van while I'm trying to work. I am very attached to the idea of the electrical cabinet over the cab.

I so badly want to start my family, like right now. It's at the fore of my thoughts all the time--and more with my friend wanting to go off her birth control and her wishes to finally have a second child. I'm definitely jealous that she's planning her second, and I don't even have a husband--let alone one who makes enough to support a family. I feel like my wishes for a life-partner are too specific. My "friend" from Arizona is definitely great inspiration for my ideal partner. He was tall, which I loved, with a long ponytail. I also loved that we got along so easily from the beginning. Things between us were usually very lowkey and mellow--except the sex. The only way I'll get over that sex is to have even more amazing sex, which I'm not sure is possible. I didn't think it was possible, and maybe it was a fluke or my imagination, but it was incredible to feel that magnetic attraction from almost the beginning.

As for personality, I liked when my friend was being dominant. Don't tell anyone, but I liked being taken care of. I also loved that, even after all that bonding was done, if either of us had something to talk about that sparked strong feelings, the conversation was so lively. Of course, you can't go wrong with a guy who at least tries to be thoughtful about what he eats, a guy who likes to cook. I don't want to be talked down to, but a guy who can teach me how to be better at the things that I struggle with.

In my friend, I could have done without the copious drinking. Also, getting mad at people for doing things he doesn't like in himself. Oh, and that pesky fantasy barbie. It also would have been nice to be working with someone who has better money sense, and someone who is willing to learn from others, take others' advice. Someone whose parents like me, who has the common sense to see, no matter how rough his relationship with them, that if his parents like me, that's a good sign. Additionally, my "friend" had an issue with empathy as in autism. The ability to see that he's not the only one struggling his struggles, and he's not the only one with thoughts and ideas.

Let's circle back to that part where I liked being dominated. I really liked it. I craved it so badly when we were living with his parents and it felt like I had to nanny him. I crave it almost worse, now, than sex, but that might be because I might have come to somehow correlate joblessness with wanting to serve and earn my keep. However, now, there's no one to serve. I feel more like a child. Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea how to find a good dom for me--I don't really want to fuss around with someone who's not interested, but less than that do I have any inclination to mess with a bad dom. I would say my friend was a poor dom. He was unfaithful to his sub in the first place. I would say, at least for her, at least from my perspective, he sounded like he was phoning it in.

He helped me build a very clear visual of what I want and need in a partner. It is very much his loss that he let me go. I'm pretty well past the parts where I didn't want to be apart from him and the parts where I would have given up my ultimate goal of living somewhere that I own completely and have complete control over. It does of course, hurt to feel like I'm not even worth messaging. It makes me feel a little more lonely than I felt before I moved. However, when someone holds you at a distance like that, and even kind of pushes you further away, it's hard to deal with the confusion. In the unlikely event that he wants to come back into my life a third time, he's going to have to work very hard to with me back over. But I would love to be part of his family. That would be amazing.

While specific, I don't think my standards are unrealistic.

Anyway.

I think for now, I really need to strictly focus on me and my personal goals, at whatever the cost. I need my foundation under me now more than ever. I absolutely cannot afford ever again to live in fear of the stability of my living arrangements. I can't let someone else decide whether or not they like having me in their home. Also, I really do need my freedom. If I want or need to be somewhere, I want to be able to get to that place.

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