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siriusleee · 2 years ago

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adamantine chains | part 2

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader | 2.1k tags: no tw for this chapter, eventual smut, eventual death, idk yet request a fic here | buy me a coffee so I don't have to work overtime and can write more chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

You're frozen to the cracked pleather chair. You're gripping its armrests so tightly that your fingertips are turning numb. König is speaking to one of the police officers, low and quick - too quick for you to make out any of the few German words you do know.

When König had first brought you to the police station, you had wondered if he would take the mask off for the general public, but he'd kept it on. The police acted like it was a normal, everyday occurrence to have a masked giant in their midst; you didn't want to question it. He had already done you so much kindness that you could never repay it - you didn't want to offend him.

You catch part of the conversation - the policeman's quip after hanging up the phone. He'd had a short phone call after König had gestured wildly to the phone, his voice growing louder in the small office. With a terribly confused look, the policeman spoke directly to König.

"Es gibt keine Aufzeichnungen über jemanden mit diesen Namen in Österreich."

You don't resurface until König's hand is on your elbow and he's pulling you out of the chair. Outside it's warm, but you can't help but shiver. König waits until the two of you are away from the police station before turning to speak with you.

"The officer says there is no record of you or your fiance in Austria. How did you get here?"

"We flew in on his private plane."

"Private plane?"

"Yes, he's a contractor for-"

You falter, realizing what must have happened.

A contractor for the government.

You think back on a conversation you'd had what seemed a million years ago. You and your fiance had just begun dating when he made it a point to tell you that he never traveled under his real name. And you didn't have to present a passport when you boarded the private jet - you'd given your passport to your fiance and he told you that he'd have everything taken care of. You had never been in a private jet before and figured that's the way it was supposed to happen.

You start to shake. The concrete beneath your feet dips wildly.

"I have to - I need to sit down."

König helps you to the ground, but he stays standing above you. Your stomach rolls, and you feel like you're going to throw up the breakfast Oma made for you that morning.

"König, what am I going to do? If I'm not supposed to be here, how am I going to get home? My fiance-"

König cuts you off.

"Do not worry, Taube. I will help you figure this out. Do you have family that is missing you?"

"My father. Although he probably won't realize I'm missing for a while - he wasn't even invited to my wedding."

König is polite enough not to comment. Instead, he lowers himself down beside you, eyes cast and fixed on the concrete.

"I don't have an ID or a passport. I don't even have my phone. König, what am I supposed to do?"

"Hush, Taube. We will figure it out. Until then you can stay with Oma."

Your hands pressed against your face, pushing your eyes hard enough to see stars. You aren't sure how long you sit there trying to get over the panic that is slowly peaking inside of you. Eventually, it simmers low enough that you can move your hands; blinded by the sunlight, you squint towards König, thinking back on what he just said.

"You don't live with Oma?"

"Nein. I have my own home, farther into the mountains than Oma's. But I am often gone for work, so it sits empty. You are welcome to stay there if you'd like. I can have food and supplies brought there for you."

You speak before thinking.

"I would like that. I don't want to be a burden on Oma. Who knows how long it will take for me to get home, to get ahold of anyone."

Another thought occurs to you, throwing you off of the small balance you managed to obtain.

"Oh my god - if there's no record of me flying into the country I can't even call the embassy. I don't have a visa or anything. I'm here illegally."

You can feel it: a full-blown panic attack building inside of you. König speaks and you take his quick pace as a way to distract you.

"Speaking of supplies, we should get you some more clothes. You cannot keep wearing my old clothes," König says with a hint of a chuckle. "Komm mit mir. I will take you shopping."

You protest, pushing yourself to your feet.

"König I can't let you do that. I have no way of repaying you for god knows how long; I don't have much money anyway."

"Don't worry, Taube. I have plenty of money. Come, there is a clothing store down the road."

König leaves you there, at the store. You don't know what to expect, but the woman jumping to her feet the moment König entered, her eyelashes fluttering at the sight of König was not it. König promised you he'd be back to get you soon, and he left you as the woman chattered at you in German you couldn't reply to. The pile of clothes on the counter grows until you can't see over it anymore. You reach out to pick up the top piece of fabric; you blush when you realize it's a pair of blue satin panties. The bell above the door rings; you turn to find König there. Suddenly embarrassed, you shove the panties underneath the pile of other clothes - your fingertips feel burnt where they touched the satin.

König speaks to the saleswoman before beckoning you towards him.

"She will pack it up and have it brought to my house for you. Let's get dinner before we go back."

You follow him, magnetized to the one familiar thing in this sea of confusion, your anchor in this thrashing sea.

The two of you don't speak to each other as you eat; you try not to stare when König lifts his mask up just enough to eat. You catch a glimpse of a sharp chin and blond stubble. You eat slowly, your stomach trying to adjust to the situation.

"I forgot to tell you, your camera is fixed."

"What? How?"

König shifts in his seat, you lean across the table towards him, hand outstretched to touch one of his. He draws away from you like you're made of fire, but you don't recognize the action.

"I took it to a camera repair man in town once I brought you home. He was able to dry it out - he said the film was ruined, but the camera should work. I took it home to surprise you."

You feel a rush of warmth toward the masked man.

"König, how am I supposed to repay you for all of this? I would be dead without you. I am-"

"Halten sie bitte an. Es ist nichts. It is nothing."

But it isn't nothing. You spend the drive to König's house trying to find a way to say thank you to him - for everything, but you're not sure you'll ever be able to. The drive is long, twice the length it took to get into town from Oma's house. The small stone houses thin out until the two of you are on a long stretch of road.

For a moment, you think it would be smart to be scared, to be worried about the man in the driver's seat. You watch the way his hands hold the steering wheel and remember how they had held you in the mountain - how his touch had felt so light you had thought it was a West Wind that picked you up to carry you to safety. And you can't bring yourself to fear anything other than a quiet apprehension. Besides, you think to yourself, shifting in the seat to get comfortable, you have no other choice, no other way home.

König's house is almost a carbon copy of Oma's, a picturesque photo of the Austrian countryside. A truck is parked out front and a young man carries in boxes. A box with the same name as the clothing store König took you to early sits outside.

The evening passes quietly: König outside sorting firewood for the fireplace and you put the boxes of food away. The house has a thin layer of dust, and you think that König was only telling a partial truth when he said he was here sometimes. It seems like he was never here.

You watch König from the kitchen window, admiring the way he barely seems to use any strength to swing the axe, the way he almost blocked out the mountainside with his size. He's midswing when he freezes, and you think perhaps he hurt himself until he pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. Even from this distance, you can see how small it is in his hands. He turns away from the house to speak, and when he turns back you can tell he's not happy, his pace brisk as he makes his way back to the house.

"Mein Täubchen, I will be gone tomorrow for work. I do not know when I will be back, but I will try to contact your father for you while I am gone."

Your eyebrows knit together, and you lean against the counter.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I do not know. A week or more. While I am gone, do not worry. If you need anything, just say my name at the store and it will be yours."

You bite your lip, and sigh. You want to protest, to force him to stay with you. But you know you can't - you shouldn't. He is doing you enough kindness by making sure that you're taken care of.

"How are you going to contact my dad?" His eyes, so expressive at every other step of today, are suddenly fragments of the mask, slotted into space to stop you from analyzing him.

"I will be working with some Americans. I will see if they can find a way to talk to him."

His demeanor has changed; the shift is nearly palpable in the small kitchen. He stands rigid, every muscle in his body tense, and for the first time you realize how large he is; you realize that he must have been slouching every moment since you first saw him. The fear you felt when you first saw him starts to creep back in; you start to realize how ridiculous this entire situation is.

You're lost in a foreign country you shouldn't even be in, secluded in the mountain with a man who won't even show his face, and spent the whole day buying supplies to leave you stranded alone.

"I have to leave early in the morning. I will start a fire for you - it is going to be cold tonight. I will leave you my car if you need anything, to go to Oma or to buy something. If you need something, just mention my name and it is yours."

"How do you-"

"Do not ask questions, Taube."

His voice cuts through any other questions you might have - it leaves you frozen, hands gripping the butcher block countertop so hard your knuckles are white as the reality of the situation crashes into you.

True to his word, König starts a fire for you before he disappears into his room (yours directly across). The lock on his door clicks shut.

It's the confusing time of night when the day borders on the night- the sounds of the morning birds mixing with the scent of dew on the Monkshood- when the sound of tires on gravel wake you up from dreams of wolves stalking you through the mountains. You're frozen to your bed, quilt crushed to your chest and a thin sheen of sweat coating your body.

Headlights cut through the bedroom window. You want to peek out, to see who is picking up König, but the chill in the air tells you it's a bad idea.

König's steps shatter the silence outside your door. Wild thoughts of human trafficking have your heart beating wildly, but it slows when you hear König walk past your door, and the front door open. The vague sounds of men shouting can be heard through the window, and your curiosity finally gets the better of you. You scramble out of the bed, tripping on the blanket and catching yourself on the bedframe. Your hands hit the windowsill in time to see a massive black truck, a carbon copy of the SWAT trucks you've seen on television turn around, tires eating the grass and flowers.

You watch the truck disappear into the distance with a horrible sense of finality.

#konig imagine #konig x reader #konig call of duty #könig fluff #könig x oc #könig x y/n #König x you #König call of duty #König #konig mw2 #konig cod #call of duty mwii #my fics

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painted-bees · 7 months ago

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Cortes- Mask

Raf- Mistake

Margie- Pain

Bring on the angst!💜

Cortes: a mask she wears... Well, she's im a place where she should probably shouldn't belong...making her best attempts at becoming a member of various species that -do- belong there. Why? It's hard to say.

Raf: Mistake....oh man, there are so many. I think most recent in his mind, though--of the mistakes he had that he feels he had control/autonomy over...is definately the way he treated his ex. While Margie has never heard him yell, he and Lacey use to yell at each other almost daily during their worst weeks. He'd accuse her of stuff he had no proof of, just based on her tone of voice, or her mood, etc. She had her own basket of issues, and if she ever felt mildly annoyed or inconvenienced by his behavior, she would try to provoke a more severe response/overreaction by doing or saying something that was arguabley benign but that she knew he'd "misinterpret" or read too much into--just so that she could feel justified in being upset with him. Problem is, even when he knew it was bait, he'd feed into it. And then he'd call her out [in no kindly manner] for being manipulative, and she'd get offended, and so on and so forth. But sometimes...a lot of times...his misreadings and consiquent digs at her were unprovoked. And in those instances, her only crime was lacking the emotional intelligence required to diffuse the situation and would spit venom right back at him in defense. Oh, he got so fucking mean.

He's genuinely, really ashamed of how he behaved with her. Moreso since he recognizes he still has a propensitity to make snipey, deliberately hurtful comments/judgements at his loved ones during his more insecure moments and that, perhaps, the only thing preventing him from repeating the same mistakes he made with Lacey--is -Margie's- ability to say nothing and give him the space to sort his shit out. If she retaliated at all in defence, he's not confident enough in his ability to self-regulate to believe that he'd be able to identify himself as the problem on time to avoid causing significant damages. He's trying, though.

Margie: Pain? Margie has never broken a bone or anything like that... But she has been raked over a bed of oysters and swept out into the very, very cold ocean and...nearly[???] drowned from cold exhaustion all in the same night. That's probably the most pain she's ever experienced, haha. She has a high pain tolerance--in that she'll complain just as much about a paper cut as she will about having her hands sliced into hamburger. That is to say, she will complain a lot... but she'll also still make funny little quips about it to downplay the situation and assert that, despite her whing, it's really no big deal lmao

#cortes #rafael #magritte

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blackwolfstabs · 1 year ago

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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 6

TIME

Tara listens to her sister and mother fight… again, but when things get reckless, she intervenes.

Tara - age 11 Sam - age 17 references from my day 3: punishment

Tara sat at the top of the staircase, knees up to her chest with her arms crossed on top, listening to her sister and her mother argue in the kitchen. She should be used to it by now, but she never could shake the anxiety in her chest or the race of her heart. It wasn’t that she feared the shouting or the insults or the aggression her mother showed, as much of a stranger as that made her seem. She was scared that their mother would throw Sam out of the house. The more they fought, the more venomous their words became, and that scared Tara to no end. She couldn’t stay alone with her mother if Sam was kicked out. She just couldn’t. And so, whenever they’d fight, she’d sit somewhere she could hear what was happening. She had already decided that if that threat was made, she would get herself involved.

Over her dead body would anyone take her Sammy away. She didn’t care what she’s done, she was still her sister. She was still her number 1.

“How about an apology for all the shit you’ve put me through?!” Christina shouted.

Then Sam returned with a hot tone, “Me? Me, have an apology? You lie to me for years, drive Dad out, get wasted every night, and then take it out on me and Tara! Where��s my apology? Why am I supposed to apologize?”

“Look at what you’re doing, Samantha!” was the offended reply.

Tara could hear her mother’s hand slap the countertop.

“At least I take my shit somewhere else! I don’t sit here and abuse you or Tara for it! She doesn’t deserve that!” Her older sister spat. “You're a mother, so act like it! Get some damn perspective!”

Tara could only imagine the expression that had just come over their parent’s face at those words.

One more moment of tense silence, and then… “How did you become such a fucking brat?”

Christina’s voice had dropped low, making an icy shiver run down the listener’s spine.

“It’s not ‘how?’, you’ve got that figured out, it’s ‘why?’” Sam’s voice had dropped too, but she sounded more disappointed than offended. “Look in the mirror and you’ll find the answer.”

Tara held her breath.

“How dare you—?”

“No, how dare you?!” Sam started yelling again. “When did you think it was okay to give up on your family, your children?! It’s your fault!”

“Samantha Carpenter!”

“No!” she cut her off. “You don’t seem to get it, so let me spell it out for you! I am not responsible for who you loved and how you loved, and neither is Tara! Stop treating us like it!” She didn’t pause to accept any feedback. “You think getting wasted is going to fix it? You think this is going to fix it?!”

Tara jumped with a small yelp that had her slapping her hand over her mouth as the sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the house. She knew Sam had just thrown a wine glass. Something bad was about to happen, she could feel it. And she feared it would leave her alone forever…

“How am I supposed to tell Tara you’ve changed your mind?!” Her older sister screamed, holding a different emotion than anger. She almost sounded like she was about to cry.

Her mother only replied, “You’re just like your father!”

“Maybe. But right now, you’re being more of a devil than he was.”

Devil? The youngest member of the household felt her chest start to burn that led to fresh tears coming into her eyes. Their father wasn’t a devil… Why would she even say that? Sam loved their father, how could she call him such a horrible thing?

All was silent, and for a moment, Tara thought about going downstairs to see what the kitchen looked like now. But then she went cold.

“Go ahead,” she heard Sam dare. “Hit me.”

More silence, but Tara’s heart dropped. ‘Don’t.’

“If you hate me that much, then do it! Hit me!”

‘Don’t do it. Please, Mom, don’t hit her.’ She braced her spine against the wall, biting her lip in anticipation for what might or might not happen.

“You’ve already done it before! Remember last year? When you beat me with a belt in the garage?” Her sister raved on, “So, come on! Hit me! ‘Cause you can’t hurt me anymore than the truth did.”

She had hit her before? Beat her? At that point, Tara couldn’t wait any longer. She bolted from her place and ran down the stairs, nearly skidding as she navigated to the kitchen. “No, don’t hit her!” She got both of their attention, which they seemed taken aback that she had been listening in on their argument. But who couldn’t? They were screaming at each other. She desperately looked at her mother, “I don’t mind if you drink!” Then she looked over at Sam, “I don’t mind if you go out!” Her tears became thicker as her voice started to crack, looking back to her mother, “But please, don’t hit her!”

Christina glared at her. “Tara, go to your room,” she ordered, “This doesn’t concern you.”

Her youngest daughter whimpered, hesitating as she looked over at her sister again. Part of her wanted to obey so she wouldn’t have to be yelled at, but the other part wanted to stay. She didn’t want Sam to be hit or verbally abused anymore. “It’s not fair, Mom…” Now, she began to cry.

Her parent sighed. “None of this is fair, Tara. Life’s not fair.”

Then, Sam snapped, her voice dropping as she stared at the older. “Yeah, but she doesn’t deserve this,” she growled.

“You, keep your mouth shut!”

But she ignored her, softening her demeanor enough to go to Tara. She pulled her in close as her little sister broke down in a small sob. “Shh, it’s okay,” she spoke softly as she stroked her hair. “Just go to your room, it’s okay.”

“Oh, don’t make me out to be the bad guy!” Christina barked, “She’s not a baby, Samantha, don’t pacify her! She needs to grow up at some point.”

“She needs a mother who will be there for her, instead of getting too drunk to even remember she has a daughter!”

Their mother’s eyes went dark and her jaw clenched. If looks could kill, Sam would be gone in a heartbeat. “Get out of this house,” she demanded.

Tara felt her sister stiffen against her.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” she finished coldly.

And that’s when she lost it. “No!” Tara grabbed onto Sam’s shirt and clung to it as she blinked up at her. “Don’t leave!” she pleaded. “Don’t! Please, Sammy!” But Sam just stared at their mother, which made her turn her face to her as well. “I’ll go to my room, Mom! I will! Just please don’t kick her out!”

Christina scoffed. “I’m not kicking her out,” she assured, but her eyes were like daggers as she held her eldest daughter’s fiery gaze, “I just want her out of the house for a few hours.” She moved forward and grabbed her youngest child, tearing her away from Sam. “Let her go, Tara!”

The strength of her grip pinched Tara’s arms as she reluctantly was forced away. Her mother then trapped her to keep her from running back. “You’ll come back, right?” she whimpered, tears running down her face for the fear that she wouldn’t.

Samantha took a step forward, never breaking away from the stare she put on her mother. “If I find out you hurt her in any way,” she warned, everything from her demeanor to her voice resembling the one person that gave her such a dangerous reputation, “You’ll see just how much I really am like him.”

Christina didn’t seem fazed. “She’s my daughter. I’ll deal with her the way I see fit,” she replied.

“Your daughter. Remember that.”

Tara didn’t understand, but she didn’t care. She squirmed a little in her mother’s hold, but to no avail, for the grip just grew tighter. “Y-you both just need some time…” She exchanged glances with both of them. “To calm down… a-and apologize… Right?”

Her mother just sighed, but Tara could see the trembling of her sister’s jaw and the tears glossing over her eyes as she refused to look at her.

Sam inhaled shakily, and the heartbreak could be read clear on her face as she answered. “We’re out of time.”

That haunted Tara. Terribly. A cold, empty feeling drowned her. “S-Sammy?”

But her Sammy couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the desperation on her baby sister’s tear-stricken face.

Time… So much time…

Lived.

Divided.

Destroyed.

Lost.

She turned around and led herself out the front door, slamming it on everything they once were. Happy. Innocent. Beautiful. Connected.

All of that was gone. And they were out of time to try and make it right again.

today's been kind of rough, so this isn't my best work, but I think it's decent enough.

All my best! ♡ - parker

#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #christina carpenter #30 day writing challenge #time #AU: The Way I Am

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years ago

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Here's a hypothetical. Say whatever higher power in the Twilight universe, if one exists, decides that Vampires are just way too overpowered. Seriously, these sparkly crystal demons are stupidly strong. So, time for a balance patch on the universe and that means Vampires are getting nerfed.

When I say nerfed I mean Vampires go from being super predators on top of the Earth's food chain to something where they are still dangerous but can be killed by a sufficently prepared and skilled human.

So, they aren't speed blitzing through forests or throwing boulders, but they are still stronger and faster than an average human, just not insanely so. Edward can get to Bella and stop the truck to save her but it's going to be a close call and he's not going to crush it. Durability's getting nerfed too. They can take a beating from a heavyweight champion no problem but bullets can and will go right through them.

Sunlight still makes them sparkle but it's also painful since the venom within is being heated from the inside. But, it's managable. Put a Vampire next to roaring fire however, then it's a different story. The venom is boiling inside them, the pain is unimaginable. Get a Vampire in the roaring fire, and they're dead.

They're still immortal and they still keep their Gifts, but the physical side of their abilities is getting patched to be more balanced.

So, I guess this is more of a two part question. How would the Twilight saga have gone, if it even happened at all, if Vampires were more balanced from the start or what would happen if one day after Breaking Dawn Vampires weren't at the top of the food chain in terms of supernatural creatures anymore.

I just have to say, I love how in this fandom, the power level of vampires seems to personally offend people.

"No! That's stupid, unfair, and not allowed!" - fandom, who really really really wants vampire hunters.

The World of Nerfed Twilight: It's Not Happening

Twilight never happens.

The Volturi likely never comes into existence as humans can (with difficulty but can) defend themselves against the vampire. Vampires won't survive canon fire, gun fire, dismemberment with swords, etc. And you said it yourself, the point of this post is we can have human vampire hunters in a way that we can't in canon.

So, we now live in an entirely different world where humans know about vampires. Per the Twilight universe, our entire history can be thrown off course by this and I struggle to imagine that things would be the same enough that Bella shows up at the exact same Forks in 2005.

Even if she does, the Cullens aren't there.

Carlisle very likely never turned anyone else as he couldn't pose as a doctor: humans know what he is on sight and he'd be run out of every town he could enter (Forks, especially, if he tried it would not go well). Carlisle was only able to pose as a doctor long after the Enlightenment in western nations where humans had rejected the idea of demons (notice he did not do so in the 17th century when he very much was a human who believed in vampires).

Actually... Carlisle might have even been successful with that vampire hunt in which case he was never turned at all and neither were the others.

No one is in Forks.

Post Breaking Dawn

No difference occurs

The Volturi rely on their gifts rather than physical strength, and Jane and Alec are working as expected. It's not fun but it makes no difference and makes their job in a way easier as those they have to dispose of no longer are invulnerable and can be destroyed quite easily at a distance. Aro invests in human weaponry.

Vampires are still primarily a secret, so you have vampires hunting humans who are unaware then scampering off. Humans aren't realizing they exist let alone that they can and should fight against them (and even if they do, ordinary people who are targeted may not be carrying guns and may not have the skill to shoot someone who is still moving far faster than they are.)

As it is, you'll have vampires dying in dumbass ways as they don't realize jumping off a cliff will kill them this time. You also have those taking advantage of murdering each other at a distance for territory and having a great time when before it was near impossible to kill each other.

Bella feels like God has cursed her and given her something beautiful only to take it away again. However, she's still hot, so it's okay. Edward and Emmett are the ones in despair no longer being fast or strong.

TL;DR

Nothing happens twice.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the volturi #the cullens #meta #headcanon #opinion

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firawren · 5 months ago

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The Rose Brides: a Beauty and the Beast retelling fanfic

Chapter 6, “Warming,” rated G, now posted on AO3!

Chapters: 6/19 now posted Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (Disney Animated Movies) Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Belle/Beast Other characters: Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, Maurice, minor original characters

Key additional tags: Alternate Universe, Love, Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Shame, Self-Sacrifice, Magic, see full list of tags on AO3

Summary:

Lord Adam, born a beast from an ancestral and unbreakable curse, is determined to live in solitude so that his bloodline and curse will finally end with him. Yet magic intervenes and puts a young woman named Belle in his life, bound to his palace from an enchanted rose she plucked. Adam wants nothing to do with this woman who ruined his plans. He certainly is not going to fall in love with her, no matter how sweet and fun and clever he discovers her to be. Belle is not happy to be trapped at the eerie palace either. She had plans to become a famous author and travel the world. But she’s determined to make the best of her situation by making a friend, or maybe something more, if she can ever get this cranky yet strangely kind beast to open up to her.

Excerpt from Chapter 6:

He looked down at her and smiled back. It was the first time she’d seen him smile in her many weeks at the palace; she had been beginning to wonder if his strange face was even capable of it. But not only was he capable of smiling, it actually looked good on him—a little funny, perhaps, with those tusks of his, but pleasant to look at all the same. It made his ferocious face softer, his blue eyes more human, almost kind.

And then there was a thunk and his face contorted in anger as he whipped it up toward the nearest tree.

“Goddammit, Menace!” he shouted at the branches. Belle saw a squirrel sitting there, chattering and flicking its tail with angry venom.

“What happened?” Belle asked in bewilderment.

Adam rubbed at a spot between his horns as he scowled up at the squirrel. “She threw an acorn at me. She always thinks I’m trying to get her babies. I’m just on a walk, you idiot!” he snarled up at the squirrel. The little thing continued to glare and chatter at him, unfazed by a fanged beast 50 times her size threatening her.

“This is an ongoing conflict with this squirrel?”

“Yes, for three years,” he muttered. “She hates me all the time, but it gets really bad when she has babies.”

“She’s never scared of you?”

“Menace is the one who’s scary. She’s jumped at my face before!”

“Menace is the squirrel?”

The anger on his face faltered and became tinged with embarrassment. “Yeah, that’s what I named her, because that’s what she is.”

Belle stared at him for a second, then covered her mouth as laughter burst out of it. She wasn’t sure if Adam would be offended by her reaction, but she just couldn’t help it. She laughed and laughed at the delightful absurdity of a huge beast having a vicious feud with a tiny squirrel, and yet never hurting her, just yelling at her as she yelled at him, like they were bitter old neighbors.

Adam stared back at her laughing at him, and his tusks slowly pulled up in a smile, then his mouth cracked open and he let out a chuckle, a deep, barking kind of sound, and then it got louder, and soon he was full-on belly laughing with Belle.

The squirrel made a squealing yelp and scurried down the branch to leap to the next tree and rush away from them. “Oh, is that what scares you, Menace, me laughing?” Adam called after her, and Belle laughed even harder, tears springing to her eyes in her glee.

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#rose brides fic #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast 1991 #batb fanfic #fanfic #disney fanfiction #fairy tales #fairy tale retelling #belle x beast #belle x adam #belle #the beast #my writing #my stuff

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imaginesofeverykind · 9 months ago

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And Quite The Love Affair || S.Sallow || Chapter 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Original Female Character (set in post game 1899)

Word Count: 5k

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Implications of abuse, manipulative partner, period typical sexism

—- —-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sebastian asked, seeing Lucinda well deflated and defeated after lunch with her parents. Her back pressed up against the door as if they would be back any second to jump down her throat about her career choice, her decisions to do things that didn’t benefit the family whatsoever.

“No… No, it's okay.” She was flat, completely worn out and not at all the fervent and scattered muggle he had met her as and known her for being - at least in the last twenty-four hours that is. “Sorry you got caught in the middle of all that.”

“Don’t apologize. If it’s any consolation — I can’t wait to wipe their smarmy smiles off their faces when we get that almanac updated.” His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his trousers as he fought the urge to physically show comfort toward her, a hand on the shoulder may perhaps be too much for her all things considered, hells, even a hug would be too out of pocket.

Her lips tugged into a smile, “Right. They might not approve of my work but they will know my success.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The two fell silent for just a moment as Lucinda kicked herself off the door and made her way to the kitchen, “I suppose I should let you in on this grand plan… Now that you’re helping me and all.” She beamed, slowly regressing back to her usual bubbly self after the whirlwind that was her afternoon.

“As funny as it would be to do this entire charade blind, I would appreciate even just a smidge of direction — if you can spare it of course.”

“Well, fortunately for you, my entire research depends on you looking the part of a botanist and acting like you know at least what you’re talking about.” She crossed the room and picked up a small stack of parchment papers that had been thoroughly annotated and handed them over to him with a smile. “If I suspect, we’ll have to meet with the board within the week to plead our case and offer proof of funding… I can handle that, but you need to at least pretend to be interested in plants.”

”I’ve heard I'm quite the crack at acting, your precious research papers are safe with me.” He smiled at her, scanning the page of what looked like utter rubbish in his eyes, for all he knew it very well could’ve been written in Gobbledegook and he’d be unable to tell the difference. “Say, how do you plan on funding the expedition?”

Her face scrunched up into mild disgust as the thought crossed her mind, it was all the more unpleasant the longer her thoughts remained on the answer, though her mouth hadn’t moved, nor had words formed out loud. Sebastian, however, had read the ministrations on her face as something perhaps less innocently and flushed red in the cheeks, “well before we resort to such drastic solutions, we can think of a better way to get money that doesn’t involve you… well…” he trailed off, thinking of a word that wasn’t going to insult her. “Sharing yourself around.”

”Pardon?” She nearly choked on her own spit, a strangled laugh falling from her lips and only getting louder the harder she thought about her poor companions derailed train of thought. It was quite preposterous but at the very least in her mind, whatever it was Sebastian had thought she was referring to seemed to be much more pleasant to her than the alternative. The reality.

“Oh absolutely, I assure you the alternative is much worse… I appreciate your concern, truly but no. Unfortunately it means I will have to muster the courage to see Kenneth.”

The venom in her voice didn’t go amiss, and while Sebastian was relieved that she one; didn’t get offended by his misguided attempt to read into a situation, and two; wasn’t resorting to desperate means to make ends meet, he very much was intrigued at who this so called Kenneth was that garnered so much of a visceral reaction from her. “I’ll take it we don’t like Kenneth,” he jested, watching the faintest hint of a smile ghost her lips.

She nearly visibly shrunk, it seemed, hugging her torso with slumped shoulders as she refused eye contact, “he’s who my parents engaged me to, so no. I don’t like him, but for the purpose of this research expedition. I love him — most importantly his money.”

—- —-

Lucinda Cornwall was a refreshing surprise, Sebastian deducted. Having spent a week in her company he had come to know the woman far quicker than anticipated due to her outspoken and friendly nature. At first he thought it was dim of her, to be so candid and honest to a stranger, then he questioned internally whether or not she was being truthful. Since the last person he knew was so ‘open’ and ‘honest’ was that ruddy Leander Prewitt who he had despised as a teenager. Yes, it was 10 years ago, and no he still held disdain for the Prewitt boy - now man.

But he had come around to accept rather quickly that, no she wasn’t naive or stupid for indulging in facts about herself so freely, nor was she trying to manipulate him to perceive her differently.

“No! What are you trying to do, drown the poor thing!?” She yelled, slapping Sebastian's hands that held the watering can over top of her cherished Bird of Paradise.

Well, he thought. She had her moments.

“How am I supposed to know how much ‘enough to soak the soil’ is when I’ve soaked the soil?” He countered, a smile on his face despite being reprimanded. He wasn’t fond of being told off or quite frankly, told what to do - it reminded him of being a boy again and the egregious amount of times he was sent to detention for not following rules or sneaking about.

However, getting to know his companion, he knew she was being earnest and was gentle when helping him learn basic Botany knowledge.

She sighed and gently took the watering can away from him, teaching someone what naturally came to her was something utterly new and proved to be difficult, despite this she constantly reminded herself to be more tender when handing feedback to Sebastian considering he really need only look the part and not be as adverse in Botany as she was. “You watch me –,” she turned to the side and began trickling water over her ‘overly dramatic’ - as she put it - Pothos, “watch as the roots soak up the water and the leaves start to lift just enough…” she trailed off, eyeing the water level and then stopping. “And see the small puddle, it's slowly draining which means the roots are getting a good drink in.”

Sebastian stared at the plant, wondering what on earth she was exactly talking about, but the minor movements of a plant would look far different to someone who knew what it looked like, versus a simpleton like he was. “If I have to be honest – didn’t really see a difference.” He offered a shrug as she merely rolled her eyes at him in response, he might have thought that she was annoyed at him had it not been for the slight smile she wore as she moved around him with grace.

“You seem rather content this morning considering you were in utter shambles last night,” he commented, the image of her late night meltdown where she wallowed over her research and fretted over inviting an unwanted guest in her home burned into the back of his mind.

Her eye seemed to twitch and he immediately regretted saying anything, it was a mere observation and nothing more, but he perhaps spoke too brashly to her, finding each passing moment with her comforting and safe to speak his mind without thinking. Though it was not his prerogative to upset the woman who graciously housed him for free and was an absolute delight to be around.

“Don’t let the smile fool you, I am unbelievably beside myself with stress this instance,” she gritted through a near perfect smile, and continued to inspect her indoor plants. The select few she kept in her home required a little more attention than in her greenhouse shack, and despite the impending doom (Kenneth’s Arrival) she was relatively normal seeming.

“Well — I think you’ve got it all handled, you’re clever and brilliant. I don’t care what that ignorant sod says to you or what your parents say. If this falls through we can find something else to fund the expedition.” He assured her, listening to his own words he himself found it hard to believe it came from his mouth and so succinctly as well. Given his track record, he was well aware of his own manipulative tendencies, especially when wanting things to go his way. Though that aside it was more a suprise given that he said it wholeheartedly and not even an edge of a lie caught in there.

He tried to keep in mind what he was really doing, keeping her from learning too much and intervening if it got that far …Out of… Concern? No, he wasn’t entirely sure why just yet. He’s had numerous chances to wipe her memory, even found himself clutching his wand on several occasions with the intent to do so, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it and not an iota of reason as to why he simply couldn’t. Perhaps, her passion and never ceasing curiosity was something he could relate to, or maybe it was the way she beamed when she spoke in great detail about her work that he truly believed she deserved a breakthrough like this.

Why not? It wasn’t the first time a muggle had gone into grave detail about the Wizarding World, if he recalls correctly that several muggle poets and writers like Edgar Allan Poe and more recently Arthur Machen had to have been exposed in some essence to the magical world to write such close accurate accounts of magic. Why couldn’t Lucinda Cornwall be amongst the revered few?

Despite his hesitancy, Sebastian outstretched his hand, offering it to her for comfort and she surprisingly took it, giving it a gentle squeeze, however what most caught Sebastian off guard was how soft her hands were all things considered. They were covered in dirt or ink most of the time and yet they were delicate and as soft as velvet. Her nails, however, were absolutely destroyed as he noted how often she bit into them out of nervousness.

“If this doesn’t work I don’t have any other options.” She sighed, a slight tremble of doubt in her voice.

“Perhaps, but I can always try something.”

”No — I’ve already asked so much of you,” she smiled at him, releasing her grasp from his and not a moment too soon, as if she willed him into existence the front door opened wide to reveal the man she dreaded seeing the entire morning. Her stomach opened up like a never ending pit of unease, filling her with a type of nausea beyond compare. He stood tall and stout, slicked back black hair that looked immaculately placed atop of his pale and square head. Kenneth Bradbury was by no means unattractive, he had deep brown eyes and a thick wispy mustache that he styled to keep his appearance tidy, but it was never about looks for Lucinda — he was rotten from the inside.

“Darling!” He drawled, closing the door behind him promptly as he spotted his dear fiance through the entrance inside the kitchen. She hadn’t moved a muscle, feeling as though she was glued to the spot or being held by a force beyond her understanding. She blinked merely once, or so she thought, and he was right in front of her, standing ever so imposing on her small figure and pulled her into a tight embrace, “you haven’t slept a wink, have you! What have I told you about staying out in that shack so late?”

Lucinda stood unmoving while he fretted over her, heart racing like it had always done around him and not in the way it did in those poems she sometimes read or the books she used to read as a young girl, but in a way that urged her to run to get away. Her eyes flicked over to Sebastian who stood in awkward silence at the display, to him, nothing thus far indicated the wretched man he was described in great detail about.

It wasn’t long after their embrace ended that Kenneth finally noticed Sebastian off to the side, his expression melting from one of delight to confusion that a stranger was in his fiance’s house without him knowing about it, “You didn’t say you had a guest, who are you?”

“Sebastian Sallow. Research Partner.”

”Research Partner? My, you always do leave such grave details out of your letters don’t you?” Kenneth’s voice gritted through a polite smile that could also be mistaken for a scowl. What was most damning was that despite their last conversation she still seemed hellbent on her plant research. ”Darling, I thought you promised you’d get that job sorted at the Hospital? You spend all that time fretting over a hobby, you need a real job.”

She frowned, taking a step back and brought a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose while her thoughts went absolutely wild. There was nothing that came to mind for her to speak on or defend herself with, merely opening and closing her mouth until Sebastian came to her defense, “Luce is quite gifted in Botany, you’d do well to remember that when she becomes world class after the find she’s discovered.”

Luce. His betrotheds nickname, that even he wasn’t allowed to call her at the request of her made him do a double take. So how is it that a stranger he had heard nothing about until this very moment was allowed to call his fiance by that? “I think you ought to leave, Sebastian. It’s getting late and my dear fiance needs her sleep.” He reached over to grab onto her arm, but she batted him away in distress.

”It’s not even half two, and I don’t think you can dictate what she does or doesn’t do.” Sebastian raised his brow at the man, obviously catching a glimpse at what Lucinda had warned him about.

Anxiety filled her.

She knew this is how Kenneth would act but she needed to not let him walk all over her like he always did, she needed to assert herself and what she wanted but by heavens did it strike the fear of God into her to even think about asserting herself. Incessantly, she picked at her poor thumb once again, re-opening the scab that was barely healed from last night's meltdown, “be quiet — both of you.” Her composure wavered, but it got her the peace she desired while mustering up the courage to say what she needed to, “I’ll make you a deal… You let me do this one expedition and after that, no more plants, no more obsessing over all of this. I’ll get a job at the hospital but please let me do this.”

Sebastian folded his arms impressed at his companion, she was quite the manipulative little vixen when she needed to be, not that he minded, rather he admired her for it. The way she made her voice softer as she all but pleaded for Kenneth to listen to her, no doubt doing that trick he had seen girls from his school days pull — up turning their brows which made their eyes wide and also made it virtually impossible to say no to.

“Expedition? You never said anything about going anywhere?”

“W-well it's actually up in the air right now — I need funding to get it approved but once that's done we can be out across Europe within the fortnight.” She rambled, head tilted down at her feet as she drew on, losing the steam she had built up a moment before, feeling Kenneth’s unsettling gaze on her, not to mention what Sebastian must think of her. He must be so upset with me. She fretted, feeling isolation pull her into the depths of nothingness as she stood in her own kitchen bearing the weight of two mens stares.

There was nothing more Sebastian wished to do than to go to her and offer a hand, seeing her shrink into herself, offer her something that she could squeeze reassuringly but he knew it was not appropriate given the current situation. Though he’d rather enjoy how her betrothed would act if he did so, feeling rather spiteful he half considered going out of his way to do that but steeled himself.

Kenneth walked over to her, grazing his hand on her cheek before cupping the point of her chin, forcing her to head and gaze to look at him, “promise me. No more of this childish dream of yours. I won't hear anymore of this when you’re finished with this, straight to the Hospital where you can finally do some real good. I won’t marry some halfwit floozie, you understand?”

He held her gaze, there was promise behind his eyes and there would be nothing she could do to convince him after it was all over. She swallowed hard, nodding in his grip but he didn’t let go nor say anything, it was clearly written in his stern face. I need to hear you say it. Is what she could very much discern, “I promise. No more.” Her voice was barely audible, getting tangled in her throat as it came out.

Finally, he relaxed, his grip dropped and she felt as though she could breathe properly once again. “Good girl,” he muttered, adjusting his two piece suit and the cuffs around his wrist, “let me write to the bank, I’ll even fund it for you, my dear.” His voice had a timbre that irked Sebastian, who stood horrified at the scene he just witnessed moments ago.

“Brilliant! Thank you! Sebastian, pack your bags, we're going to have to meet with The board in London before embarking. We’ll get the first train tomorrow morning.” Lucinda could barely contain her excitement, as if washing away her previous nausea and anxiety by focusing solely on the news in front of her.

”Wait, he’s not going with you is he? Darling, I don’t even know him and you expect me to let you run off with him?” Kenneth looked between the two, unsure what exactly compelled his dearest fiance to work so closely with another man, one he knew nothing about no less. He couldn’t let his beloved simply waltz out of Mansfield to London in the presence of another man, what kind of fool he’d look like to everyone who knew him.

“Did you miss the part where I said I was a research assistant, or are you simply too dim to understand the meaning?” Sebastian’s words came out quicker than his brain could keep up with the filter in place, he honestly hadn’t meant for it to come off as bitter as it did — well actually, he did mean it, but not for Lucinda’s sake.

“What did you say?”

”Nothing! Kenneth, he said nothing. But yes he’s coming, who else is going to document the travels?” She sprung immediately into damage control, standing by her fiance’s side and placing a hand on his arm as if that may ease the tension between the two men. “Sebastian, can you give us a moment?” She eyed him apologetically, not particularly open to the idea of being alone with Kenneth but needing it nonetheless.

He wasn’t overly fond of leaving her alone either, but relented simply because she asked. It was the least he could do considering he had quite literally spoken out of turn, not wanting to make things harder on her anymore he simply nodded and left the ever ‘happy’ couple alone in the kitchen. The longer he was of even close proximity to Kenneth, the easier it was to heed Lucinda’s warning, though the aristocrat was very sly in his misdoings to her. Had Sebastian not been forewarned prior, he might have even not noticed the slight passive aggressive nature toward her which was troublesome at best.

“I don’t like him,” Kenneth seethed, placing two hands on her shoulder and holding onto them firmly as if scolding a child. “He’s far too comfortable around you.” He added, searching her eyes for even an ounce of guilt behind them, but there was none, she had nothing to feel guilty about, housing a man in need who was equally helpful to her own cause.

She blew out an exasperated sigh, her mind swimming and stomach dropping all because the man in front of her was someone she couldn’t stand yet in the same breath also feared. “He’s been really helpful, truly.” She defended, though she didn’t want to, she still found her hand come up to caress the side of his face in an attempt to give her words more care and impact.

”I believe you my sweet,” his voice was soft but still as deathly sinister as it was at a normal volume, he brought a hand to meet hers on his cheek, moving it down as quickly as a predator strikes for its prey to her wrist and jerked her forward, “but I don’t trust him. I’ll fund your trip, but allow me to join you.”

Oh dear. This was most not ideal.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you — what about the factory, they couldn’t simply let you leave on such short notice.” Her eyes flitted to the gorilla grip he had on her wrist, debating whether or not to say anything, deciding rather quickly that it was in her best interest to not provoke him further. She was indeed right about his work, however, her motivations were strictly on ensuring he doesn’t muddy the important research taken and would rather deal with him in a much more suburban setting than out in the wilderness.

He watched her gaze, carefully releasing his grip, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss atop her head as if it would make up for him being rough. “They will understand, who knows? You’ll be off galavanting into the wilderness and I don’t want anything bad happening to my sweet. I don’t want that man taking any chances with you alone—”

”The academy sends us two academic escorts, one of them will possibly be my old Professor. Truly, it is not like I will be stolen away and never to be seen or heard from again.” She forced a smile, one that was supposed to display caring and empathy but her eyes were solemn and told a completely different story. Perhaps Kenneth was right to worry, she hadn’t even fully known Sebastian herself, but it wasn’t like it was going to be the two of them alone for however long the expedition takes.

”Ah, more men to add to the trip? Really, you sometimes are as daft as you look darling. I’m coming and that's final, I don't want any other men ogling at what’s mine.”

She sighed in defeat, there was no changing his mind whether she was the most persuasive woman around — he had made up his mind and she was simply going to have to honour it no matter how frustrating the prospect was. “Well, alright. But we are leaving tomorrow for however long it takes us to find what I’ve started.” Her words came out frimer than intended, shocking even herself, possibly there was a fire to stoke within her if she only had the right utensils to keep the blaze alight.

”Of course, I’ll be at the station first thing tomorrow,” he brought a hand to cup her cheek, delicately brushing a thumb over the collection of freckles that decorated the apples of her cheeks. “I’m only so hard on you because I love you, you know that right?”

Failing to meet his eyes, she opted to stare at his forehead before looking back down, “I know.” She wished he didn’t, wished her parents hadn’t gone ahead and promised her to a man she didn’t love or like for that matter, wished that she could do much more with her life, wished she was born a man to receive the privileges she so often had to work double effort for.

Kenneth gripped her jaw, forcing her head up before giving her a small and quick peck on the lips, “see you in the morning, darling.”

Positive that she had mumbled a response she stood suspended in time, as if stuck in a stasis of sorts while trying to process what had just happened. Everything was so quick it was nearly impossible to register the feeling of nausea properly, or the excitement followed by disappointment and eventual dread. There was utterly no chance she could complete the research with him around chastising her everytime she would partake in something that wasn’t ladylike, hells, there was the highest chance he’d give her attitude for only packing hiking appropriate attire.

Not to mention that chaos that would ensue by her ignoring him in favor of discussing research notes with her traveling companions.

Deep within the recess of her mind, trapped in a never ending spiral of thoughts, conclusions and outcomes — so intently transfixed she hadn’t even noticed Sebastian leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen once Kenneth had left. Respecting Lucinda’s privacy wasn’t totally in the forefront of his conscience when lingering nearby, eavesdropping on their conversation, rather he was far more concerned for her safety if anything.

He wasn’t sure why the man got his bonnet in such a mess over Sebastian — well, actually no, he was sure the reasoning had been because unlike others, he was not afraid to bite back when ordered around. And he certainly didn’t like the tone or way someone who was supposed to be her fiance spoke to her so of course he would speak up.

“If you asked, I could hex him.” Sebastian blurted out, a simple phrase that came naturally but immediately made him nervous upon saying out loud to a muggle. Stupid, Sebastian, you’re an idiot.

She snapped out of her daze at the sound of his voice and snorted halfheartedly, “if it were possible, I doubt a hex would deal with him. Sorry you had to hear that.” She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples and applying slight pressure to ease the oncoming headache. Between her parents and her betrothed she was heading to an early grave. Leaning on the counter she finally released a full breath of air, feeling as though no air had escaped her lungs the entire time Kenneth invaded her sacred space.

”Stop apologizing for the people in your life. I’d say they have your best interest, but clearly I see it otherwise.” He assured, folding his arms over his chest, still leaning on the door frame and inspecting her body language. Aside from the day she made that telephone call he hadn’t seen her this closed off physically, shrunken down and hunched as if a cowering dog expecting to be hit would. With that association in mind, he’d hate to imagine what’s occurred in the past for her to behave in such a timid manner.

Half expecting her to shy away, she merely smiled in response and softly nodded, “thank you, truly — Sebastian, I don’t have anything to give you to show my gratitude, but believe me, it’s there.”

“I know.” Once upon a time, he would have relished in the fact someone was indebted to him, something he could use to dangle precariously over their heads when the time called for it. Perhaps, he may even feel the same way currently. With Lucinda as it stands, she has nothing he could possibly want and despite him questioning whether or not he was helping her out to prevent exposure of the wizarding world; He still found himself at a loss of how this benefits him.

Maybe the ministry would pardon me for my efforts. An unlikely scenario, especially when it involved something as benign as a muggle botanist. For the first time in quite a long time, he yearned for someone - and that someone was his dearest friend Ominis - when everything in the world didn’t make sense or if Sebastian was stuck with anything, it was always his dear friend ironing out the kinks, pulling apart theories and explanations so that Sebastian could understand.

If Ominis was here right now, he’d know what to do.

But he wasn’t, Sebastian Sallow was lonely as he was completely and utterly out of options. Lucinda Cornwall was doing more for him than she could ever hope to provide with her companionship alone.

“Where’d you go?” She was close, far closer than he had anticipated being lost in his thoughts. A head shorter than he was yet she somehow managed to command the air out of his lungs as though she were imposing (she wasn’t imposing in the slightest). Her bright hazel eyes scanned his face with a concentration that could be mistaken as her attempting to read his mind, alas she was merely searching for any sign of her companion behind the glaze of memory that trapped his thoughts temporarily.

“Far away.” He murmured, processing her closeness, the way it made him practically seize up but not in a fearful way. His equilibrium thoroughly waned with her not entirely unwanted intrusion of personal space, after all, she had shown compassion and concern toward him where many others failed to do so. Though, when his thoughts started to stray into the blanket of despair that was his memories, it was best he retreated. “I need to go—,”

She took a step back, as if startled by his abruptness.

”—F-for a walk… I’ll return I just - I just need to clear my head.”

She laughed. Not loudly or a lot, more like a chuckle that she tried to conceal with a hand over her mouth. When his eyebrows cocked in question she simply smiled, emanating such warmth and kindness, “of course, you needn’t tell me what it is you get up to, if I'm not in the house when you're back I’ll be in the greenhouse.”

#imagines #fanfiction #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #original work #sebastian sallow x ofc

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no-romo-hoes · 2 years ago

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I hate VENOM as a film. I hate it. It sucks. But I also love it. It's great. I'll never watch it again. Let's back up a bit. (Before we begin, No I haven't watched the second VENOM movie, so this is from what I remember from the first one)

I love Venom because it's so fucking funny. The symbiote itself, not the film. It's so strong, it's blood-thirsty, it's horrifying to look at, it's an alien, it's murdered and eaten dozens of innocent civilians, but it's got sass, it's easily offended, it likes tater tots and chocolate, and it provides the funniest commentary of any marvel film. It's like having a really freaky roommate that'll tease you all day if you get flustered by an attractive person, then demand you buy them food, then murder your highschool bully because they called you a mean name. He'll even "leave the apartment" for a night if you wanna do something privately. But he'll tease you endlessly afterwards. And the fact that he explained to Eddie how he was considered a loser on his planet makes their duo that much more lovable. Two outcasts from different societies meeting and becoming best friends/in love (whatever your view on their relationship is 'cause it's kinda vague). I seriously love Venom as a creature.

Next, I love how different the hero is to other marvel heroes. Iron Man is a billionare weapons designer, Black Widow has been trained to kill since she was 12, Thor is a literal god, Black Panther is the freaking king of the most advanced civilisation on the planet, Captain America is a super soldier and the textbook definition of a "good person". And then look at VENOM. Eddie Brock is a stressed, unemployed, drug-addict in a shitty apartment that just got dumped by his girlfriend. He is the textbook definition of a "loser". Then he meets this random glob of alien black-cat-energy and he's just like "aight". The most relatable superhero in the history of superheroes.

But I hate VENOM. I was so disappointed when I watched it. The writing of the dialogue was good, but it could have been way better, we didn't really get to see the development of the relationship between Venom and Eddie, nor the character development we would want for Eddie now that he has something to fight for. We see the classic sacrifice-yourself-for-your-friend-but-oh-turns-out-you-survived trope, but there was no time for Eddie to properly mourn. Basically, there wasn't enough angst. There wasn't enough time for it. I think it would have been better as an episode series instead of a film, that way we could have a lot more time for character development, awesome battle scenes, as well as general Roommate Comedy™. To add to this, I was disappointed at the lack of a training montage. Cliché as it is, they went from having just met to "we're unstoppable and have codes and battle strategy and shit", so having some training time on screen would have eased that transition significantly, and the flow of the film would have improved.

This is the most irritating part of the film; the fact that the concept and characters are brilliant but were executed poorly. I would have no issue with a film that was just bad, but to have such a fun and new idea written in such mediocre fashion is infuriating. Now I feel no shame when I say I have searched for reader-insert fanfictions that include the symbiote (not x readers though, I'm not a monster fucker) and there are very few of quality. If you can correct me, please do. So my appreciation of Venom must remain tucked away in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the front saying "beware of the leopard".

#we are venom #venom #marvel venom #marvel #venom symbiote #eddie brock #venom movie

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kcyars99 · 2 months ago

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Who’s excited for Kendrick Lamar to perform at next year’s Super Bowl halftime show ? I know I am

Sport

Kendrick Lamar at the Super Bowl hits Drake where it hurts

The Compton rapper performing at America’s big ball game is the final insult to someone who loves being centre stage

Any fans of the University of Arizona Symphonic Marching Band out there? How about the Grambling State University Marching Band? While these brass-heavy ensembles might not be much known beyond their respective college campuses, they share a distinction with Madonna, Michael Jackson and the Rolling Stones – headlining the Super Bowl halftime show. America’s big American football match used to book traditional brass bands for entertainment. But in the 1990s, worried about ratings, it started hiring pop stars instead.

The latest of these is Kendrick Lamar, who will headline the next Super Bowl in New Orleans on 9th February 2025. In a wry announcement video, we see Lamar standing on a sports pitch in front of a huge American flag, firing footballs out of a practice machine to some imaginary off-screen athletes. “My name’s Kendrick Lamar and I’ll be performing at Super Bowl LIX,” he says. “Will you be pulling up? I hope so. You know it’s only one opportunity to win a championship. No round twos. Then he exclaims “Let’s get it!” and fires another ball, following it up with “Boom!” and a soft chuckle.

This isn’t the first time he’s played the Super Bowl: in 2022, he was part of a guest-packed show overseen by Dr Dre. But Lamar’s headline slot has got the online rap world very excited, largely based on a line from his spiel: “No round twos.” Hip-hop oracles see this as a reference to Lamar’s beef with Drake. You lost, Aubrey, seems to be the message. Now I’m going to call you a sex offender in front of a TV audience of more than 100 million.

The prospect of “Not Like Us”, one of the catchiest and yet also most venomous diss tracks in rap history, blaring out of TVs across America and the world is, surely, the final, XXL, platinum-coated nail in Drake’s coffin. It’s bad enough that “Not Like Us” became a song of the summer – now it’s got a second wind timed for just when we would otherwise be forgetting about it. Lamar has been commended across the internet as the most accomplished, dedicated hater to ever hate. (The fact that Jay-Z’s record label, Roc Nation, plays a big role in booking the show has also been taken to mean that Drake is rapper non grata to Hov himself.)

For Drake, this will hurt. But how much, exactly? One irony being gleefully picked over online is that the Drake-J Cole collab “First Person Shooter” has a Drake-delivered chorus running: “Big as the what? / Big as the Super Bowl”. In the song, Cole mentions the “big three” – the pair plus Lamar – which was taken as a slander by Kendrick, who responded on “Like That”. Then the beef properly got going and the rest is history. Lamar upending a very specific Drizzy boast is essentially him firing another few rounds into the Canadian’s gently decaying body.

That said, “Big as the Super Bowl” doesn’t mean quite the same thing as “Big enough for the Super Bowl”. Maybe Drake’s too big for the half-time show, just as Taylor Swift is too big for Glastonbury. The stats partially back him up: at the end of last year, Drake’s It’s All a Blur surpassed Kendrick Lamar’s Big Steppers as the highest-grossing rap tour of all time. The 2024 leg of It’s All a Blur, for which Drake brought along J Cole, was even subtitled “Big As The What?”, implying the shows were more momentous than any halftime performance.

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Text

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding.

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought.

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning.

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding.

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations.

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong.

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour.

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date.

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area.

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures.

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment.

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly.

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being.

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives.

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often.

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day.

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red.

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting.

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way.

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were.

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models.

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow.

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much.

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous.

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that.

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London.

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on.

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner.

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar.

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant.

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them.

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

“I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date.

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him.

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so.

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight.

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones.

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition.

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment.

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after.

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

Hair and makeup went fast.

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving.

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding.

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing.

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about.

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design.

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family.

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle.

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony.

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***.

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm.

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off.

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless.

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple.

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

The reception is more of a dinner than a party.

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect.

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry.

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle.

There is not much more to say than that.

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough.

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night.

To have someone laid out underneath him.

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek.

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay.

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers.

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them.

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would.

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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chippedaxe · 3 years ago

Note

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

#tw stepcest #stepcest cw #karl jacobs x reader smut #karl jacobs smut #c!karl smut #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut #dreamsmp x reader smut #dream smp x reader smut #dreamsmp smut #dream smp smut #dsmp x reader smut #dsmp smut

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