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astonmartinii · 11 months ago

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bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader

band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might

based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

vogue

liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others

tagged: yourusername

vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.

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user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her

user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood

user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv

yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx

vogue: you dropped this queen 👑

user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨

user5: at least lando still supports her

user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her

hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams

yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?

hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime

user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?

user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL

landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here

yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?

landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(

yourusername: that is tragic

landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then

yourusername: you might

user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^

user10: idk but i am excited

f1wagupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others

f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.

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user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass

f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost

user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL

user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well

user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up

user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING

user18: things like that make me glad i'm single

user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?

user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"

user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?

user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?

user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her

user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her

user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?

user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others

yourusername: not much going on recently

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user27: SHE'S SO HOT

user28: i need her to give me one chance please

charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?

yourusername: needed now more than ever

charles_leclerc: trust and believe

user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me

user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage

user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down

danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us

yourusername: why thank you good sir

danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?

yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache

heidiberger: preach

user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL

landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that

yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section

landonorris: i thought we were friends :(

yourusername: always and forever

user33: but he wants it to be more

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo

user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others

landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?

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user34: is that a ... WOMAN?

user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal

user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards

user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭

carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️

landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍

user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift

user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on

oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap

landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone

oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it

landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it

user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers

yourusername: are you coming for my job?

landonorris: you saying i could model 😊

yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number

landonorris: you already have my number babe

yourusername: okay pretty boy

user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life

user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others

yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel

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user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?

user47: reporting for duty 🫡

user46: what car is that?

user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....

user46: thank you for your service

danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰

yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?

danielricciardo: yes he has 😃

yourusername: omg proud

danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick

yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands

danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]

yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?

danielricciardo: funny 😄

user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.

landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel

yourusername: i am a whore for carbs

landonorris: i am a whore for you

this comment was deleted

landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)

maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!

landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING

user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?

liked by carlossainz55

user50: oh i know this man aint speaking

f1teaandgossip

liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others

ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?

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user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me

user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca

user55: you're right and you should say it

user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?

user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months

user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock

user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool

user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?

user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness

user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge

user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this

user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this

user65: i have faith 🤞

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x

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user66: SERVE

user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post

landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️

yourusername: i'll say 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: ENOUGH

landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(

oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/

yourusername: whoops my bad

landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better

yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality

oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP

user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭

carlossainz55: real mature

yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.

carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you

yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app

carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about

landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem

carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando

landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house

user69: the girls are FIGHTING

comments on this post have been limited.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others

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landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family

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user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL

user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing

yourusername: beyond proud of you baby

landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl

yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)

landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)

user74: he already refers to his house at their home

user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes

oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure

yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid

landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too

oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋

danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???

maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop

charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me

yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite

landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite

yourusername: and that's that

danielricciardo: boooooooo.

maxverstappen1: cop out :(

charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅

user76: i am so confused right now

yourusername

liked by bellahadid, landonorris and 3,109,766 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: you are in love, true love.

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user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season

user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?

yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date

user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old

landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance

user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter

user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband

landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much

yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you

landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me

yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it

user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this

danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute

oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them

landonorris: we're not THAT bad

oscarpiastri: i have working ears

yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x

fin.

note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 social media au

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sorrelchestnut · 1 year ago

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I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.

A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!

Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.

Otherwise, your party consists of:

Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;

Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;

Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;

Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,

Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.

Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #some of you people have never suffered through group projects and it shows

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avatar-anna · 2 months ago

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please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

August 2013

In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.

“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.

When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.

“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.

She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”

“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.

“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”

Y/n grinned. “Of course.”

“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.

Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.

Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"

Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.

"Hm."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.

"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.

Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."

"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."

Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.

"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.

Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."

"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.

"Do you not like flying?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."

"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.

"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."

"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."

His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.

Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.

"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."

And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”

“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”

“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.

"We're about to find out."

Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.

When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”

*.*

Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.

Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.

“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”

Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.

He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”

“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.

“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.

Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…

“I can cancel—”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.

She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.

“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“Next time, then,” she offered.

Harry smiled. “I��ll hold you to that.”

Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.

“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”

Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”

*.*

Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.

And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.

For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.

And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.

It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?”

It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.

“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”

“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”

Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.

So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.

“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”

That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.

Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.

Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.

*.*

The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.

"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."

After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.

#harry styles #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n

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iamthat-iam · 9 months ago

Text

"Ego", The Final Boss

Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.

The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.

Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."

She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.

One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."

"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."

Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."

Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."

"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."

"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"

"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"

"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."

"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.

"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"

After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.

- -

One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."

"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"

Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."

Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"

Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.

"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."

Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"

Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."

"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.

Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."

"You're so welcome, sweetie."

Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!

#non dualism #nondualism #consciousness #awareness #self #self realization #another long story but i hope the message was clear

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riordanness · 5 months ago

Text

seven — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.5K

warnings: reader is a swiftie, i know nothing about teenage party games

“Silena, I really don’t want to,” I whine slightly, laying back against the wall on my bunk bed.

My older half sister raises an eyebrow at me. “Girl, I’ve known you for five years now and you’ve never stepped foot in a single party. College parties are part of the experience! You have to at least attend one. And this one is the best one you could pick to come to—it’s mine.”

I roll my eyes. “But there’s… people there.” Like him.

“Yeah?” So he might be there.

“I don’t like people.” Mostly him.

Silena rubs her palm over her face in an annoyed way. “Just come. This one time. Please.”

“Okay,” I groan. “But only because it’s gonna be in our house anyway.” So hopefully he’s smart enough to stay away.

“Great.” Yeah, right.

I regretted it almost immediately. It was being held in our dorm house, downstairs from my bedroom. I wished I was back up there.

Someone offers me a drink, and I politely decline. Not because I don’t drink, but because I don’t trust anyone here to not have done something to it.

Then, I hear Silena yelling for everyone to get their asses to the living room, so I head in there.

People are sitting in a big circle, more and more kids adding to the line.

“What’s going on?” a younger guy asks me, but I shrug. Probably some party game that I've never heard of.

Another girl steps over and says, “Seven minutes in heaven.”

“What’s that?” I ask, frowning.

“You get locked in a closet with someone for seven minutes,” the girl explains. I think her name was Drew, but I might be wrong. “And you get to do anything you want.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ah,” I comment.

“Okay everyone!” Silena claps her hands and flashes a perfect smile. “Who’s ready for a game!”

There’s an eruption of cheers, and I reluctantly decide to sit down in the circle. I mean, chances are I won’t get picked, right? There are dozens of other teenagers here, and…

My thoughts come to a staggered pause as my eyes fall on the one person I never wanted to see again. Especially not here, not now. He’s sitting right across from me in the circle, but he doesn’t even notice me, laughing with a taller blond guy wth glasses as he chugs something out of a red plastic cup. His sea green eyes sparkle with humour, unfortunately still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a navy hoodie and jeans, a fairly lame outfit for a party. Like come on, even I dressed up a little. (I put on a shirt on with my jeans instead of a sweater).

Silena places a empty soda bottle in the middle of the circle. “Okay,” she says loudly. “I’m going to spin this, and whoever it lands on gets to go in the closet!” Her voice bubbles with excitement, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Who the hell came up with this game, anyway?

Silena’s red nails click against the bottle as she sends it spinning. The room goes quiet, all eyes on the plastic. It slows, slows, slows… and stops.

My heart is pounding in my ears, and my mouth has gone dry. The bottle cap is pointing straight at me. Slowly, I glance up at the person on the other side of the bottle. And it’s him. Of course it’s him.

Silena looks both pleased and worried. “Our winners are Y/n and Percy Jackson!”

A smattering of applause and cheers follows her announcement, and she waves us both up. “Come, come. Follow me, guys.”

I force myself to my feet, focusing my eyes on Silena and Silena only, refusing to even glance at Percy, even when he falls into step beside me.

We are led to the closet right in the corner of the big living room, a little while away from most of the party, but still the same room, kind of. Silena opens the door. It’s been clearly cleaned out recently, probably for the sole purpose of playing this game.

“In you pop,” Silena says giddily. “Have fun!”

I climb in, and Percy follows. Then the door is closed, and locked, and an eruption of giggles sounds from the party-goers.

I lean against the wall, crossing my arms.

“Hey,” Percy says awkwardly. “Hey, I’m—“

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.

“What?” He frowns. “Playing the game like I’m supposed to?”

“No, I mean here at the party. The one you knew was at my house.”

His eyes clear with understanding. “Oh.”

I raise my eyebrows.

Percy sighs. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to apologise to you.”

I scoff a little. “A bit too late, don’t you think?”

“You don’t understand—“

“No, I understand. I understand just fine. You didn’t want me, okay. You didn’t want me to be your girlfriend anymore, fine. But you should have said something. Not just—ghost me online. That was lame, Percy. Really, really lame.” My voice trembles ever so slightly, and I have to swallow hard to keep it even.

“I know.” He runs a hand through his unruly dark hair. “Believe me, I know.”

“So why’d you do it?” I ask. “Were you cheating on me?”

He looks taken aback. “What?! Gods, no. Y/n, I would never do that.”

I soften a little bit. “Okay. Good. Then what was the reason?”

“I just—I couldn’t handle it. My mom is going through a divorce right now, and I was swamped with schoolwork—and you know how I am with school, I suck—and I caved. I didn’t want to disappoint you in our relationship, so I just… I don’t know.” He sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair again. “Look, it was stupid, okay? I know that. It was cruel and hurtful and completely unnecessary. I should have communicated with you, actually told you what I was going through. I’m sorry. That was really immature of me.”

I am quiet, studying him in the dim lightning. It’s too dark to completely make out his features, so I can only see his faint outline.

“Can you forgive me?” Percy asks softly.

I don’t want to. My better judgement tells me no. But at the same time, I know Percy. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. He’s being sincere.

I let out a sigh. “Okay. Sure.”

Percy looks so relieved he almost falls over. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really.” I have to bite back my laugh.

There’s a heartbeat or two of silence, and then Percy talks again. “You know that Taylor Swift song you like from that album you like?”

I make an amused face. “That’s really unspecific. I like all her songs from all her albums.”

“Well—yeah, okay. My bad. I mean that one that goes…” He puts on a stupid falsetto voice while he tries to sing (FYI, he can’t sing for shit). “All of the silence and waiting, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you, ah ah ah—“

I cut off his ‘Ah’s’. They sound like drowning fish. “You mean Dress?”

Percy nods. “Yeah; that one.”

“Okay. What about it, exactly?”

“That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

I don’t know whether I should be impressed that he knows that song well enough to remember those lyrics specifically when he relates to them, or whether I should be worried that he listens to Dress, of all songs.

“You do, huh? Why is that?”

“Because we still have almost four minutes. And I’ve missed your kisses more than anything.”

I can’t ignore the butterflies I feel at his words. They overweigh the feeling of apprehension at taking him back. I smile. “What’s keeping you, then?”

Percy grins wide, and doesn’t waste another second. He moves forward, his hand pulling me by my waist closer to him, the other hand gripping my chin gently between his fingers, so my face is tilted up to look at him.

“You sure this is okay?” he checks.

I nod. “Positive. I’ll get properly mad at you later.”

Percy laughs under his breath. “Good that.”

And without another word, he moves down and kisses me. It gives me the exact same feeling it always used to, like I had wings. His mouth still tastes of sea salt and Coke, and it moves against mine like we’d never missed a single day.

My fingers instinctively move to the loose waves of dark hair at the base of his head, intertwining themselves there, holding him close to me.

His grip on my waist tightens, like his entire body needs me closer, which I’m not entirely sure is even possible. He’s kissing me like I am air and he is drowning. Like I am his lifeline, his anchor.

When we finally pull apart, it is only for seconds, before Percy is pulling me in again.

Then there is a crack of brightness in our dark little bubble, and a familiar girl’s voice is squealing. “Oh, my. Gods! It worked!”

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians #walker scobell #fanfic #perseus jackson #book percy #book percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #perseus jackson fanfiction #percy jackson x me

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

Text

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble

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lllivia · 8 months ago

Text

This was never supposed to happen

Natalie Scatarccio x f!reader

Summary: Nat's asshole of a dad ruins everything

Warnings: not proofread, angst, homophobia (might have gone a bit far idk 🫢), modern au

Part 1 of 2

Music blasts through Nat's speaker as you lay on her bed, spread out comfortably as she sits on the floor scrolling on her phone.

10 minutes go by with the comfortable silence before you decide to put down your phone and finally speak up, not completely sure if this was a good idea.

"Hey Nat.. Yk how I told you that I kinda haven't kissed anyone before?" You pause for a second "Well I've been talking to this.. Person for a while and it's starting to get serious... So I was just wondering if maybe you could, idk - this is probably dumb but, teach me?"

You say quickly, staring up at the ceiling and expecting the worst.

"Okay"

"..Okay?"

"Yeah okay, I'll teach you dumbass" She smirks and crawls onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to hover over you.

Nat was always quite comfortable with who she was, openly talking about her experiences with men, while you on the other hand were much more reserved. So you weren't necessarily surprised when she said yes (since it was only going to be two girls practicing after all), but you still feel your hands get sweaty resting on your stomach as you stare right back at her, glancing down at her lips just to notice the shadow of her smirk still imprinted on her face.

"So um, what should I do? " you say awkwardly, fidgeting with your sweater as you struggle to not look away from the girl who's face is now merely inches away from yours.

"Just follow my lead okay?" She responds in a surprisingly soft voice before finally leaning in to where your lips ghost over each other, sighing slightly before gently pressing your lips together. One of her hands slowly creeping up to cup your face like she's afraid you might break if she adds too much pressure.

"Is this okay?" She pulls back to ask, her face flushed and her lips redder than usual as she scans your face for any discomfort.

"Yeah, yes, you can keep going" you respond quickly before pulling her back into you, unable to describe the tingling sensation fluttering through your entire body as your lips meet again in a slightly rougher matter, pent up need for your friend that you didn't know you had suddenly crashing down at you all at once.

"Shit Nat" you groan as she bites down on your lip, both of you forgetting that this was only supposed to be practice as her hands-

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE"

You quickly pull apart, your eyes flying open as you try to scramble away from Nat as her father stands in the now open doorway.

"WHAT KIND OF FAGGOT FILTH HAVE YOU BROUGHT INTO MY HOUSE GIRL??" He yells, pointing a dirty finger towards Nat as his other fist grips onto a half full bottle of alcohol, his disgusting breath seeping through the room as spit fly's out of his mouth.

Nat doesn't know how to respond, seemingly too shocked to answer as her dad continues shouting at her.

"ANSWER ME FREAK! YOU WEREN'T RAISED TO COMMIT SUCH SINS. YOU'RE A FUCKING DISGRACE YOU HEAR ME?? A DISGRACE.

NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I DECIDE TO SHOOT YOU AND YOUR GOOD FOR NOTHING FAG FRIEND"

He finishes, his last sentence barely having left his mouth before you run outside, your heart beating faster than it ever has and tears now streaming down your terrified face.

You turn back towards the trailer as you suddenly hear glass shattering, all your other worries almost forgotten as all you can think about is if Nat is okay.

You were about to go back inside when Nat storms out the door, slamming it behind her as she steps forward.

You weren't exactly sure what to say as you look at her, you'd never seen her in such a vulnerable state before. The usual cool and confident Natalie now replaced with a nearly crying girl, her hair disheveled, her shoulders shaking from the suppressed tears and one of her hands bleeding from a deep cut that you could only assume came from the shattering sound that come from inside the house mere seconds ago.

As she tries to hold in her tears she refuses to meet your eye, her expression changing between hatred, embarrassment, shame and more as she furiously wipes her face with her sleave.

"Nat? Are you o-"

"Go."

"What?? Your hand clearly needs medical attention, we can go back to mine"

"Just go."

"Stop being stupid Nat, I can't fucking leave you like this" you say and step towards her, anger starting to creep into your voice as you can't understand why she's acting this way towards you.

"I SAID GO" she suddenly shouts. "you heard what he said dyke, this was clearly a mistake and it was never supposed to happen!"

Her bloodshot eyes finally meet yours again and all you can see in them is hate and despair, tears spilling out as she bites her bottom lip hard before she looks down at her feet, immediately regretting everything she just said.

"Get the fuck out of here y/n" her voice breaks.

"Nat.." is all your broken voice manages to squeak out as your eyebrows furrow, the tightness in your chest feeling as though it might suffocate you as you finally turn away from her, walking away from who you thought was your best friend only 15 minutes ago - now feeling unsure that you'll ever see her the same again.

a/n: I'm too impatient to wait for the poll to finish, also I can't decide if this should have a sad or happy ending 😜 SEND REQUESTS, MY INBOX IS BASICALLY THE SAHARA DESERT RN CHAT 😢😢😢

#Spotify #natalie scatorccio angst #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #yj #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #yellow jackets #made by lllivia

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abbysimsfun · 10 days ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 91 (Conrad's Strange Trip)

cw: drinking, ingesting a mind-altering substance

Conrad pulled his cruiser through the gates of Bella Goth's estate in Cavalier Cove. The coastal mansion gave little indication of the paranormal-obsessed inhabitant who owned the property, but Conrad still always felt a chill when he walked through the front door.

Bella swore the house wasn't haunted. Conrad had never seen a ghost so he had to take her word for it, but the home did have two new permanent residents since he and Heather had last visited with the kids. In addition to Alexander and Lydia's newborn son, Jagger, Bella had welcomed a new pet.

"She's a gift from Grimmie. He's off reaping so often, but this crow can travel well enough to send messages between us when we're apart."

"She's beautiful, Mrs. Goth. But don't you worry about things like...bird flu? Especially with a newborn around."

"You don't really think I'd endanger Alex and Lydia's son, do you? My own grandson! Crows are among the most hygienic of all birds, you know. And she's a great little mimic. Watch."

The crow jumped from her wooden pedestal and onto Bella's hand. She spoke a few words in basic Simlish, waiting for her new pet to croak back, 'Nay-doo.'

"What's her name?"

"I haven't decided yet. Do you have any ideas? I thought Grimbella was nice, but Grimmie says we shouldn't name her after ourselves."

Conrad broke a smile across his tense cheeks. "I can't help you, Mrs. Goth. I didn't even name my dog. And, Solomon Wolff, my first partner back in San Myshuno, named him after me."

Bella shrugged with a gentle smile for Conrad and her crow. "I'll sleep on it. Maybe her name will come to me in a dream, or maybe Solomon Wolff will tell me what her name is."

(Surprise! Thank you @deardiaryts4 for making this headcanon canon with me! These two helped bust a puppy mill together as young officers, and Conrad ended up raising one of the pups who followed him back to their cruiser. Solo called him Gord because he was attached to Officer Gordon, and the name stuck. How Bella exists separately and prominently in overlapping storylines both totally makes sense and is outrageous but it need not be explained right now. Just enjoy the ride! Also, taking suggestions to name that crow! Grimbella isn't officially off the table, either.)

Conrad cleared his throat. "River dropped by and told me to come see you. But...I don't really know what I need to talk about."

"Conrad, you look tired." The words were accusatory, but there was only concern in her voice. "Let me mix you a drink. Text Heather, let her know I insisted you stay a while to relax. I'll watch your kids soon to make it up to her. Sometime when you're working late again."

"It's been a long few months," he admitted, following her to the long wooden bar in the dining room. "I know everyone's worried about me."

"So why won't you talk to anyone about it?"

He wavered. "Because sometimes the less people know, the safer they are. I shouldn't talk to you about this, especially since I can't figure out how to tell Heather, but if I don't talk to someone I might lose my damn mind...Have you ever heard of Los Tigres de Selva?"

She nodded. "My grandmother, Enriqueta, was from Selvadorada, but her family got her to Sunset Valley when she was small. They didn't want her to stay because of the cartels."

"I walked away from a case involving them today."

"They're in our ports?"

"They don't smuggle much through here. Probably because our ports are jammed with ice too many months of the year and it's not profitable, but this case...it's sorta personal."

"If you keep pursuing the case, will your family be in danger? You've told everyone you were handling it."

"I've tried. But last night Heather noticed how hard it's been to keep the case separate from everything else, and after River visited today I realized what it's been doing to me."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the woman Heather saw sneaking around outside your house before your daughter was born, does it?"

"She told you about that?"

"No, Cassandra told me because she wanted me and her brothers to be careful if there were any dangerous people lurking around town. And it sounds like there were...Are they still?"

"I really hope not."

Bella nodded. "So they are."

"Why do I always forget you spent a bit of time working as a secret agent?"

"Because they spent more time trying to figure me out than letting me do my job so I rarely talk about it. When Dex came along I said, 'Screw it.' Nothing's more important than family, and that's been my life since I quit."

"Well, you got more out of me than anyone else without much effort, so just know you've still got it."

"I don't know all your secrets, Conrad. I still don't know why you kept it from Heather, but my gut says you're ashamed of something."

"I feel shame about my past. And I feel shame because I should have told her months ago and I kept putting it off. I should have told her years ago. It just got harder and harder to say anything because no matter what, it'll look like I didn't tell her because I have something to hide."

"Do you?"

"There's a lot she doesn't know. There's a lot nobody knows, after my father died."

"Secrets are important to keep sometimes, and I understand wanting to keep her safe if the truth puts her in danger, but you know Heather. She likes honesty."

Conrad stared at the empty glass on the bar. "Heather's the love of my life. I can't lose her because I made stupid choices until my dad bailed me out with what amounted to his dying breath."

Bella thought quietly for a moment, taking a seat at the empty barstool. "You're a fascinating man, Conrad Gordon. Your father would be proud to see what you've made of yourself despite any mistakes of your youth, but something is causing you to go backward. I could press and I'm quite sure you'd tell me everything because you clearly need to talk about it, but..."

"But if I tell you before I tell Heather, I'm an even bigger ass than I've been. And still, knowing that, it doesn't make me want to run home and tell her."

"You know who might be able to provide better guidance than anyone who lacks the hindsight of death? The mentors."

He shook his head with snide laughter. "How did I know you were going to suggest travelling? Mrs. Goth, I have to work in the morning."

"And you know it only takes a few minutes!"

Maybe it was the liquid courage, but Conrad found himself agreeing and followed Bella upstairs. The seance table had been moved into their upstairs hall, with the old attic room turned into a nursery for Alex and Lydia's newborn son.

Conrad took a seat across from Bella, letting her lead just like last time. She chanted her Omiscan summons, with Conrad's palms open on the round wooden table draped in purple and gold cloth. A blue flame flickered above their heads, and Conrad was transported to the Realm of the Dead. He knew Bella wouldn't pull him out prematurely, so he walked cautiously toward the flame.

When he'd returned, he asked how long he'd been gone. A cold sweat broke on the back of his neck.

"You were gone much longer than usual - about twenty minutes. What did you see?"

"I need a drink, Mrs. Goth. The strongest drink you know how to mix."

"Don't you work in the morning?" she countered, but his pained expression gave Bella pause. "I know one drink. It clears your mind of all the jumbled thoughts you can't take with you...when you pass on. Only the most important thoughts and memories remain while you're in this state. But I can't let you drive home if I make it for you."

"Mrs. Goth, what I just saw...I don't understand it. If it'll unscramble my thoughts, I..."

"You can stay here for the night, and I'll tell Heather you helped me with a computer virus."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to be lying to Heather."

"Do you want to tell her you're going to spend the next few hours living as a ghost?"

"Living as a what? Are you going to...kill me?"

"Of course not! Think of it a bit like, oh, I don't know, ayahuasca. It's an out-of-body experience, but it can be mentally transformative! It helps give perspective on the things that really matter to us when our world is clouded with too much fear and worry. It's made with gin and crushed death flower petals, but it won't leave you hungover. Once the effects wear off you'll be fine to head to work tomorrow morning."

They headed back downstairs and he called Heather. Because he was with Bella, who they'd come to trust like family, she made no complaint over him taking a night to combat his stress by getting stuck into a computer problem. Though guilt pecked a hole in his stomach, they exchanged their usual 'I love you' before he hung up. Bella mixed him another cocktail - this one bright green and glowing with spectral gases. "When you travelled for twenty minutes, you must have been gone for close to a year..."

"Almost exactly twelve months."

"What could the mentors have wanted to show you for a whole year?"

"I didn't meet any mentors, other than the professors I already had. I relived my first year of college."

"Fascinating! I've heard of this but never experienced it. I used to hope the mentors could show me where I went when I disappeared and lost all memory of my time away. The mentors let people relive the past if they have an opportunity to make amends for something or if they're sending a warning, so maybe my time away was just boring and uneventful."

"Seems pretty unlikely with you, Mrs. Goth."

As she spoke, Conrad sipped the glowing green cocktail. When he'd finished his drink, he looked down. The empty glass appeared to float on thin air, and he could scarcely make out the faint lines marking his fingertips. He really was a ghost.

Bewildered, he set down the glass on the bar and turned around. Bella watched him with excitement, trying to read his face for a reaction. "Jump-scare!" he shouted, and Bella gasped.

"You're getting better at that," she said with a laugh.

"Jump-scaring feels easier without a body to drag around. But I can't let Heather and the kids see me like this. How long does it last?"

"The sofa's all yours until you've sobered up, and you'll be back to normal by then. But tell me: who are you thinking about right now?"

"Heather and the kids, like always."

Bella smiled. "Good. That's the most important thing. Now go ahead, possess some of the furniture and get this out of your system. I know you want to."

He knew it was time to tell Heather the truth, but tonight, his mind - and body - wasn't right for such a serious conversation. After Bella and her family had gone to bed upstairs, he floated around the house with the cats tailing his every move. Finding the piano open and unattended, he grinned mischievously. Bella was right. He felt an uncontrollable urge to possess the sturdy instrument and jumped inside.

Possessing furniture was a lot harder than it looked, with the treble strings catching on his broad shoulders each time he floated upward. Still, he'd rather possess a grand piano than a litter box.

He had his fun before he passed out on the sofa. For a few hours, he had practically forgotten Ximena's name. But as morning came, he woke remembering what Bella had said about the mentors. He thought finding Rafa would make amends for his past, but it had only caused trouble and he still couldn't find him.

As Conrad headed to work, he wracked his brain trying to figure out what the mentors had wanted him to notice. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Thursday's flashback will let us all see what Conrad saw!

NOTE 2: Not the most responsible night for ol' Conrad, but the stress is still there despite telling Ximena to take a hike. Between fearing her and knowing Heather needs to know the truth but fearing how that conversation will go, dude's cracking! We may judge. Also I wasn't entirely positive what the drink would do before I had Bella make it for him. I had an inkling but didn't look it up, so this was technically an unplanned night of dropped responsibilities for Conrad, who's built a very responsible rep!

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #bella goth #reapers rewards

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thought--bubble · 10 months ago

Text

Subtraction

Michael Gavey X (Preacher's Daughter Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,886

Banners by @arcielee

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings:: Corruption Kink, Oral sex (M receiving), Fingering, dubcon, coercion, religious guilt

A/N: This was really fun to write because I'm a math gal myself 🤣

Based on THIS request.

Michael is walking on clouds today. As far as he is concerned, today is a great fucking day.

He has been working as a tutor all semester trying to plump up his resume so he can go for that TA position he knows is going to open up next autumn.

Thus far, every student he has worked with is an airhead. The worst was Farleigh, who didn't actually want to learn anything and would just wait until Michael spoon fed him the answers and take off as soon as the assignment was finished.

But today, today Michael was told he was going to tutor you. The cutest little thing he has ever laid eyes on. With your mid-thigh length plaid skirts, high socks, and little cardigans, it was like you walked out straight out of his dreams and into Oxford.

You were a pastors daughter. Prim and proper, always walking around with that little silver cross hanging from your neck. Michael had spotted you as soon as school had started, and it only took about a month before the dreaded Felix Catton had set his sights on you. As if it wasn't bad enough that Michael's only friend Oliver had already been wrapped up in Felix's little web now, Michael had to watch that web get spun around you.

Which is why it came as such a big surprise when you turned him down. Felix had been trying for weeks to hook up with you. Following you around like a puppy, it made Michael sick. Couldn't Felix see how special you are? How could he treat you as just another name in his little black book?

Michael's vindication came in the form of a very public rejection where you called out Felix for "only wanting one thing" in the courtyard for multiple students and staff to see.

The public embarrassment this afforded Felix only made Michael more enamored with you. He found himself constantly daydreaming of you. He imagined you sitting on his lap as he kissed you. Your pure innocent lips on his never having been soiled by another man's touch. He imagines pushing up that little plaid skirt and sinking his fingers deep into that cunt, sweet. Innocent, and just for him.

Michael was feeling a bit nervous as he sat and waited for you in the library. He knew his personality left a lot to be desired. If there was anyone in this wretched place, he didn't want to scare off with his brashness it was you.

"Just be normal. Just be normal, " he whispers to himself as he continues to wait, fingers tapping on the thick wooden table.

"She was supposed to be here by now," he wonders aloud. She didn't show up because it's me probably. She's heard all the horror stories of me being annoying or weird. I've already ruined it before I had a chance to meet her. Well, if she's going to be like that, then I wouldn't want her anyway. She's just like all these other posh Neanderthals. Judging someone before they've even properly gotten to know them.

Michael's brain continues to rattle off thought after thought bouncing between sadness, rejection, and anger, as he glares toward the entry to the library picking at the table with his fingernail.

Then you walk in, books clung tightly to your chest, a pink and gray pleated skirt, white knee high socks and those cute black shoes with the straps, a pink cardigan and shining in the light the dainty silver cross you're never seen without.

He sits up straighter, clearing his throat, as he subtly shifts his books, notebooks, and pens on the table.

"Michael?" Your voice sounds so sweet to Michael that he has to force himself not to salivate.

"Yes. That's me, I take it you're my new pupil?" Keep calm, Gavey. Don't act like a creep. He repeats these two rules to himself while sporting a look of indifference on his face.

You reach your hand out to him and tell him your name. He takes your hand and shakes it. So small, soft, and delicate. Perfect hands. Just the right size to be engulfed by Michael's rather sizable hands, he thinks to himself.

"Hello?" You look at him questioningly as he stares at you while absent-mindedly continuing to shake your hand for far longer than was necessary.

What you didn't know was in Michael's head he was all over you, he had you bent over this wooden table, skirt pushed up to reveal your rounded bum, him sliding himself in and out of your body while you begged him for more.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, and his cheeks burn crimson when he realizes he is still shaking your hand. "Right.. umm" he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and pulls on the collar of his shirt. The heat on his face has traveled to his chest.

As you sit, he can't help but watch you. You're so gentle from the way you sit to the way you place your books on the table.

"So what specifically are you struggling with?" He already knows she is failing the class in its entirety, but he can't seem to find another way to initiate conversation.

You whimper, and Michael just about dies

"Everything. Every single thing." You put your hands over your face clearly stressed.

"Oh. Well, we will start from the beginning then." Michael starts with what he thinks will be the easiest, basic statistics.

Even with this, you struggle greatly, the hours spent in the library do prove beneficial but only slightly and the novelty of being with you has started to wear off for Michael due to the sheer shock of how bad you are at this.

Michael rubs his temples, his head just barely hovering over the wood of the library table. "Did they not touch on any of this in secondary school?"

"They did, I wasn't any good there either, but I was able to make it up in other ways"

Michael lifts his head and looks at you quizzically. "Other ways?"

"Extra credit, community service, church duty." You explained this as if it was perfectly normal to pass maths because you picked up an extra shift helping at the church.

Michael blinks as he blankly stares back at you. "Right.......of course...... obviously......"

He looks around the library and sees it's mostly cleared out. "Well they'll be kicking us out of here any minute now" He sighs as he closes the books on the table packing up to leave, relieved that this elongated torture session has come to a close.

You stand up nervously. "No!" You didn't mean to shriek, but you did, voice reverberating around the nearly empty library.

"The quiz is in two days! I..... I can't fail! My father! He will....... oh no, please! Keep going. I'll do anything!"

Michael immediately stops moving and fights the small smirk, clawing its way across his features. Anything. I'll do anything. The words float through his mind like a beautiful song he has been waiting to hear.

Anything.

"Well, you could come back to my dorm, and we could continue......." He starts as he looks around sheepishly.

"Yes! Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you, Michael!" You excitedly collect the rest of your things from the table.

"But," Michael interjects. "We will have to....... make the process more interesting because i was nearly falling asleep a moment ago"

"Sure! whatever you suggest." You beam a smile at him, and he smirks. Oh, he has a suggestion that will keep both of them awake.

Michael opens the door to his dorm, holding his arm out and gesturing for you to go first.

You enter the room and look around. It's extremely neat. No personal effects save for a photo of Michael and his parents.

Michael walks in behind you, closing the door and setting his books down on the small table in the corner.

"Sit." He motions toward the chair across from him.

You place your books down on the table and slowly lower yourself into the chair.

" So I have an idea...... that might give you the proper.... motivation" his eyes travel up and down your form, and he slightly bites on his bottom lip before he continues. "I'm going to show you an example problem. Then I'm going to give you the same type of problem to solve. If you get it right, i remove an article of clothing. If you get it wrong, you do"

"Oh! umm Michael.... I'm not sure. " You nervously wring your hands in your lap. You are terrible at maths you would surely end up naked in no time.

"You said anything, and this will keep me awake. We could always just call it for the night......" He trails off looking to the side.

"Wait! no! ok"

Michael smirks. "Ok, then let's get started.

As expected, you get most answers wrong first, taking off your shoes, socks, and earrings. When you finally get one right, Michael chuckles and takes off his belt.

"Good, good. See? What did I tell you? proper motivation." He scoots his chair forward, a bit closing the space between you.

A few more problems later you are sitting there in nothing but a bra and panties Michael in his shirt and boxers.

As you try to focus on the current problem, you can't help but be distracted by the rather sizable bulge in his boxers.

"T-there," your voice faulters as you slide the paper back towards Michael for his review. He looks it over quickly.

"Sorry darling, that's not quite it." He leans forward, explaining where you went wrong with the formula.

"Oh." You feel the heat pool in your cheeks as you unlatch your bra. Trying to cover your breasts as you remove it.

Michael's eyes light up as he takes in your almost nude form. The bulge in his boxers becomes even more apparent as he races to write you up a new problem.

"What happens when I run out of clothes?" You know, at this point, it is an inevitability that you will end up completely nude, but you are learning and starting to get problems correct. If you can learn just enough to pass the quiz, you could possibly save your grade in this class.

"We will figure something out between the two of us, I'm sure." He brings his hand down to your knee, gently rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You focus completely on the next math problem, trying desperately to hold off the inevitable removal of your panties.

"Bravo!" Michael cheers as you slide a math problem done correctly over to him. "Guess you survive this round" He stands up from the chair and pulls his boxers off, exposing his fully erect cock.

You mean to look away. You should look away, right? That would be the polite thing to do but you can't. He is long and girthy and painfully hard.

He gently rubs at himself, watching you watch him. "Hmmm, next problem," he slides the paper over to you.

"Right, of course." You take the paper and try to focus on the problem as your eyes consistently slide back towards him as he strokes himself slowly.

"I don't mind if you look" He rubs his thumb over the slit and the tip of his cock spreading the precum around the head.

Your entire face flushes with heat. "I wasn't, ummm." You look back at the problem trying to work it out. You feel like you are writing hieroglyphics, as if you have never seen these symbols before.

"Well, that's incorrect, sorry." Michael grins happily as he waits for you to remove your final article of clothing.

"I can't. I can't expose that. " You nervously rub your palms against your thighs.

"How about we just do this?" Michael leans forward and slides your panties to the side.

Your eyes go wide, and you make a loud gulping sound.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Michael runs a finger up your slit feeling the obvious wetness there. "From what I gather, you seem to be enjoying this"

He collects some of your slick and brings it up to your pearl, drawing slow circles around the nerve.

"Oh!" You instantly close your eyes. You have touched yourself before. Something you would always pray for forgiveness for right after, but this felt different. Micheal's large finger and course fingertip make the sensation more intense, and your body instantly reacts, wanting more.

"Ahh." You breathe out as Michael applies more pressure to your bud, increasing the speed at which he applies that pressure.

Michael leans forward, completely kissing up the side of your neck. "It's ok. I won't tell anyone."

"I .... I have to remain chaste. " You moan as he slides a finger into you while holding the pressure down on your bud.

"There are things we can do without....... breaking the seal..... just relax, " He whispers into your ear as he continues sliding his finger against your walls.

You feel the pleasure building up in your lower stomach and instinctually spread your legs wider.

"That's it, good girl, I'm going to make you feel really good, ok?"

Your head rolls back as the pressure continues to build, the guilt in your mind losing to the pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Micheal moves his thumb quickly against your clit and pushes against the spongey spot inside your walls and sends you into a tailspin.

"Oh, Michael! Michael!" You gasp as the pressure in your stomach pulls taught, threatening to snap at any moment.

"I got you, let go for me, beautiful." As he whispers these words into your ear, the band snaps.

"Ahhhh, Mich-" You can't get the words out as your jaw goes slack and your entire body vibrates.

Michael continues his movements while you ride out your high, only pulling his hand away once you whimper at the overstimulation.

Michael takes your juices and rubs them on his cock as he slowly strokes himself. "That was glorious, you look so pretty when you cum"

You watch him touch himself with curiosity. "I can teach you more than maths." he says suddenly as he increases the pace of his movements.

"Come here." He motions you toward him, and like a puppet on a string, you go to him. You have already gone this far. What is stopping you now?

"Get on your knees." You quickly comply, dropping to your knees before him.

"Good, think you are going to learn this much quicker" He brings the weeping head of his cock to your lips.

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip you had heard of oral sex before. Kind of had a decent idea of what it entailed.

Michael groans. "Open up and flip your lips over your teeth."

You follow his instructions and he slides his cock into your mouth pushing past your lips. "Good, good, breath through your nose."

He grips the hair at the top of your head slowly dragging you forward pushing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Use your tongue beautiful" He sighs with pleasure as you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So fucking good." The grip on your hair tightens as he pushes further hitting the back of your throat, earning him a gag.

"What a pretty sound," He coos as he starts to move his hips while holding your head in place.

"Just like that." His breathing gets heavier as his speed increases. "Fuck, yes. Look at me" He grunts as he starts to batter the back of your throat with his cockhead.

You look up at him with tears streaking down your face and drool slipping from your chin.

"Almost there." He wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "So pretty when you cry"

Michael grips your hair tight, pushing himself fast and hard into your throat.

"You're gonna swallow what I give you" You do your best to attempt to nod while he fucks your face, pushing himself as far as he will go, the hairs at his base coming in contact with your nose and chin.

"That's it right there...... FUCK!" Michael spurts directly into your throat. You hardly have to swallow at all.

He pulls himself out of your mouth and smiles down at you, wiping the drool off of your chin.

"Think we can call it a night, yeah?" He pulls his boxers up and collapses back in the chair a look of lazy satisfaction on his face.

"Yeah, that might be best." You wipe the tears from your face and gather your clothes.

"There are still two more days before the quiz. Come back tomorrow, and we can continue." Michael gets out of the chair and wraps his arms around you from behind, gently kissing your neck.

"I love teaching you. Tell me you'll come back tomorrow."

You blush at his words, "Yes, I'll be back tomorrow"

Micheal sees you out and watches as you walk down the hallway and disappear out of sight before going back into his room and flopping onto his bed with a contented sigh before he chuckles to himself.

"I got what Felix couldn't"

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#ewan mitchell verse #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x reader #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #jess fics #my smarty pants bf

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thefiery-phoenix · 8 months ago

Note

Hi I have been reading all your works and I'be got to say that its really good I mean like wow anyways I would like to request a platonic y'know fix with the oldies of lookism I mean Charles and tom Lee meeting up and Charles bragging about his child (the reader) there new awards , involvement in the business or you can do the geniuses instead of the reader being a genius she's named as the prodigy and is literally so smart like 400 IQ type shit and she literally saves the company's reputation, every genius admits shes smart and kinda like a learning genius where she doesnt have to copy it but masters whatever she wants to learn isnt a copy genius btw but can you like make the personality of the reader a bit like James like reserved nonchalant etc anyways thank you

Hello and thank you for liking my work, it really does mean a lot to have your support❤️

THE PRODIGY

"Long time no see Choi'' spoke a hulking and imposing man that stood tall and towered over the frame of the CEO of the HNH group as Charles glanced up from his newspaper to see none other than Tom Lee, the owner of the White Tiger Job Centre (Baekho HRM), known for being the best in the business to get rid of people in a sneaky and quick manner. "Oh please, you act like we haven't seen each other in years when we just met 2 months ago'' scoffed Charles slightly but a small amused smirk formed on his face. "You look happy...whose life did you screw over, you old crone?" chuckled Tom as he took out his grey bottle from his trench coat pocket and gulped a large sip of his alcohol from it. "Oh come now, you act like I'm a criminal or something...but I didn't screw anyone over yet...for now'' said Charles as he headed over to the table nearby and shuffled a few papers till a picture of you fell out from the stack of papers as Tom's interest piqued up and peered at your picture in an interested manner

"I didn't know you started hiring girls to do your dirty work Choi...props to you for following gender equality and such'' grinned Tom as he stared at the picture. "Ah, that's my newest recruit. One of the prized gems I've had the fortune of stumbling upon. Her name is Y/N L/N'' spoke Charles proudly as the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly out of pride for you. "This is the first time I've ever heard you praise someone other than those brats Gun and Goo...I wonder what makes this one here so special that has you singing her praises'' questioned Tom as he raised a brow in curiosity, awaiting for Charles' explanation. "In a way, she's kind of like James Lee...an exceptionally skilled and talented fighter, I daresay even stronger than Gun and Goo... she has training of the Indian martial arts called Kallaripayyatu along with Krav Maga which makes quite the deadly combination when used in combat. The advantage of her using her skills is that no one can predict what she might do next. She's even more unpredictable than Goo and James because if someone faces them a couple of times they'd be able to read their attack patterns with ease. But it's different for Y/N, you'll never know when she'll whip out a chain or a knife or just fight with her bare hands... that's what makes her quite the enigmatic fighter, she isn't afraid to fight dirty as well''

"She sounds like quite the catch then...'' muttered Tom as he continued to drink his drink and stared at your picture. "She's even won an award for her literary works as a writer, the Lindenberg award and is quite the over achiever if I must admit...a real prodigy of a girl. My daughter took an instant liking to her as do I. She simply cannot stop singing her praises'' replied Charles as Tom had an amused smirk on his face. "Neither can you and the amount of stalking you do makes me look sane'' answered Tom with a cackle. Charles smirked as he replied "That was mere research...her personality is a literal carbon copy of James, completely reserved and shy and nonchalant'' "Ah, so you're dealing with a touch me not of an introvert then eh, good luck getting that one to open up to you'' said Tom as he snickered and gulped down the last sip of his drink before he stuffed his bottle back into his pocket and glanced at Charles

"Doesn't matter though, I'll have to make her open up...what she's achieved to do for my company was more than what any of the Worker's affiliates could do, they're all mere useless inexperienced children in front of her...'' scoffed Charles as he hummed slightly and his gaze left your photo to focus on the view of the night city before him, several feet below him, taking pride in the fact that he'd gotten to a point where people had to look up to HIM. "You better be careful though...a little birdie told me that Steve Hong was looking forward to meeting with Y/N L/N'' said Tom with a slight grin as Charles' posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone laced with malice and hidden fury. 'That old bastard...if he ever thinks he can have Y/N and steal MY prodigy from me, he's got another thing coming...he can't have her..no...I'll make sure of it...' Charles thought to himself as Tom smirked, looking like he'd just read Charle's thoughts. "You look awfully nervous of losing your beloved little prodigy...wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to snatch her up like the little feather that she is for someone else to use?" asked Tom, his cheshire cat like grin evident on his face and his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, enjoying the sight of Charles Choi on the verge of losing his cool and his patience on the line

"Let me enlighten you with a little story...a while ago Eugene tried to recruit Y/N to join the Workers and he somehow thought he could keep it quiet from me but failed. Why else do you think I decided to meet with Jake Kim, the son of Gapryong Kim that night? We both know it wasn't out of sheer pity...Y/N is my ticket to destroy the crews and the Workers and expand my empire'' said Charles as he continued to stare at the city beneath him, just how he liked it, everyone underneath him, serving him. "I sometimes forget you're more unhinged and ruthless than me...I can't say if I'm shocked or proud'' spoke Tom as he trailed off and looked like he was pondering about something. "This is coming from someone who strips his clothes off and challenges his employees to a fight to the death. It's a miracle your so called employees lasted for so long'' replied Charles as he smirked at Tom. "Touche old Choi'' grinned Tom

"I'm planning to make sure she stays close to us...to me...at my residence. Of course, I shall fund for her schooling and such'' said Charles after a few moments of silence. "Doesn't she have parents?'' asked Tom with a quirked brow as his amused smirk grew even wider. It was such a sight to see someone like him be so obsessed about someone like you, and rightfully so, Tom could understand his friend's obsession with you. You were a natural gifted fighter, the sort of fighter people would literally KILL and spill blood to have on their side. "Do you think that concerns me? Her father is a software engineer and her mother is a stay at home housewife...hardly what I call a challenge. Her potential will be wasted if she continues to live with them. I've tried to convince them before to send her to me and they had the guts to refuse me even after offering them a fortune...I am Elite...if it means I have to get rid of her parents and have their blood spilled then so be it. It will also prove as a warning for anyone foolish enough to attempt to lure her to them. Besides, I've already spilled blood before, it's nothing new. What's a bit more going to do?'' answered Charles, his eyes glinting with malice as his smirk widened. Tom was now convinced you really were the prodigy he'd heard so much about from the people around who kept on yapping about you. He was just glad he managed to wring out the information from Charles which saved him tons of amount of research as he mentally decided to pay you a visit some day...even if it meant dealing with Choi's wrath which he could always deal with later. The main goal on Tom's mind now was how to get you on HIS side...

#yandere charles choi #platonic yandere charles choi x reader #platonic yandere charles choi scenarios #platonic yandere charles choi imagines #platonic yandere charles choi oneshots #platonic yandere charles choi headcanons #yandere charles choi scenarios #yandere charles choi headcanons #yandere lookism #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism x reader #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months ago

Text

King&Prince 10

After his foot was deemed fine, Dustin dragged Steve to a sitting room and pushed him onto a couch.

"Wait here. I need to get everyone", he beamed before running off.

Steve really didn't understand what had gotten into him, but figured that he might finally meet this enigmatic Eddie. It was odd that he hadn't made himself known. From how the kids talked, he seemed like a larger than life personality. Dustin must have sent his friends ahead first, because Max, El, and Lucas arrived, and then Will and Mike.

"Where were you this morning?", Max asked, arms crossed.

"I...went on an outing with the king", Steve answered. He didn't think it wise to admit that while on the outing, he had smacked him and ran off up into a tree. Now that he thought about it, the whole thing was embarrassing. Steve rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"What's wrong?", El asked.

"I think my father was right. I'm an absolute idiot."

"Yeah, but a useful one", Robin said, coming in, following behind Dustin. "If our liege is going to be taking you out like that, I suggest we draft up some kind of sign out sheet."

Steve brought his hands down from his face. "What? For me? Like a piece of equipment."

"The music room looks great now, thanks to you", Will pointed out.

"Dustin. Why are we all here?", Lucas asked.

Dustin really looked like his face would break from how hard he was smiling. "You guys aren't gonna believe this. Steve says he's never met Eddie. Ever."

Steve wondered when he got comfortable not hearing the title 'prince' before his name. Probably when people spat it out to him like a curse word. While he was meditating on this, the rest of the group shared confused looks.

Mike spoke up first. "But he-"

"I know!", Dustin giggled.

"Does he-", Lucas stammered, pointing to Steve. "Does he not know-"

"How is that even possible? Is he brain-dead?", Max asked.

"Starting to seem like a real possibility", Robin said.

"If you all came just to insult me, I'll be heading back to my room now", Steve said, standing when El grabbed his arm.

"Wait. Sit", she ordered softly, so he did. Then she looked to the others. "Don't be mean. It's not his fault he doesn't know."

"Know what?", Steve asked.

"Certainly the things a Harrington doesn't know could fill a book", the king announced his presence with that quip. "Perhaps several books."

"Perfect. We're all here", Dustin grinned.

Steve didn't get what he meant by 'all'. "You all were talking him up so much, I thought I was finally going to meet this Eddie." He didn't miss the way the king's eyes got wide.

"This is probably the funniest thing I've ever seen", Will grinned.

Dustin cleared his throat. "Steve, why don't you tell us about Eddie?"

"Why would I tell you about your friend?", Steve crossed his arms.

"Just, tell us how you'd describe him", Lucas urged.

Steve glanced at King Edward, always wary of him, even though there was a small table between them. "He's always hanging around you guys. Telling you stories that you like, playing with you."

"Which was your favorite story?", Dustin asked.

"Depends", Steve shrugged. "If it's the one he does with you guys, I sort of liked that one about the missing friend. I don't believe in leaving anyone behind and I can't believe you argumentative shits actually worked together long enough to find them."

"You gonna let your prisoner call your wards 'shits'?", Robin smirked at the king.

"If the boot fits", he replied, face unreadable.

Steve didn't actually know how the king felt about this band of children. They seemed to enjoy the benefits of having the king's favor, despite at least one of them being a servant's child. Not for the first time, he wondered what they were all doing here.

"Anyway", he continued. "If it's my favorite story about Eddie, probably the one you called the uh, what was it? The ribbon incident?"

The king shot up to his feet and pointed an accusatory finger to Dustin. "You told him about that!?", he squawked in a very un-kingly manner.

"I didn't, Max did", Dustin ratted right away.

"I did. It was funny", Max said.

"What about the nice things about Eddie?", El asked.

"Who's saying nice things about Eddie?", Robin asked, brow raised. "Like, out loud?"

"Great gusts, you'd think they worship him", Steve groaned. "Half the things they told me about were how amazing Eddie was."

"Okay, Steve you can shut up now", Mike warned.

"'Eddie did this and it was great', 'Eddie did that and we fucking loved it'. 'Eddie's the best', Eddie is-", Steve paused when he saw the king smiling. Not just smiling but looking...well and odd combination of smug and bashful. Why would he...wait...

"I'm going to ask a stupid question", he started.

"My word, I think he's got it", Robin said.

"Shh, birdie. There's no such thing as a stupid, little prince", the king looked to him.

There was something different about the way he said 'little prince' this time, but Steve forged ahead. "King Edward...are you Eddie?"

"That I am", he answered.

"You just-you just let these random children call you that?"

King Edward-no Eddie-no, he was still King Edward, looked around the room at the gaggle present. "I wouldn't call them 'random'."

Steve couldn't take it. He was looking at them with...well it could only be described as fondness, as adoration, something like love. He shot up from his seat and marched towards the door, needing to get away. This time, El didn't hold him back. But he did hear Dustin running after him and calling for him. Steve didn't stop until he was back in his room. Not his room, a cell. He might have a better bed and a window now, but this was still very much a prison.

"Hey, what the shit?", Dustin demanded, coming in without so much as a knock.

"You all just expect me to believe all of that? That King Edward is Eddie?"

"Yeah", Dustin jutted his chin out. "Why's that so hard to believe?"

"That man is the same one who cried when his favorite lute broke? The same one who used to sing El to sleep? The same one who ate so many strawberries that he passed out?"

"To be fair, he was shifted into a bat at the time, so it only took like ten strawberries", Dustin clarified.

"You're asking me to look at red and see blue."

"Huh?"

"King Edward is not the same as Eddie. Those are two different people and I won't believe that they're the same." Steve turned to look out the window. He was wasting his time here. He had to think of an escape. It was far up but with enough sheets, this might be a viable option.

"Maybe I don't want you to see blue. Maybe I want you to see purple."

Steve's brow furrowed. "What?"

"You knew about one side of Eddie. Let's call that red. Now you know the other side, his blue side. Now you just need to put them together to make purple", Dustin explained.

"You're asking the impossible." Steve sat down on his bed but kept his eyes trained on the window.

Dustin came over and sat next to him. "Have you ever had someone look at you and only see one thing?"

"It's different with him. He's a tyrant."

“Did you ever think it might be time for you to get rid of that narrow worldview of yours and broaden your horizons?”, Dustin tilted his head like he was talking to a child.

Steve, ever stubborn, didn’t respond and kept looking out the window. He couldn’t see his kingdom from here, and at this point he was wondering if he’d ever lay eyes on it again. He didn’t know whether that would be a bad thing or a blessing. He didn't want to admit it, but Dustin had hit the nail on the head. Back home, he'd only been one thing or the other. People rarely got close enough to see the whole picture of what he was.

“Seriously, what’s the worst thing that can happen?”, Dustin urged, frustrated.

“I’m not going to be toyed with by your king.” At the end of the day, they were mortal enemies. There was no common ground wide enough to change that. A few stories of him not being a menace meant nothing. At least that's what he was telling himself.

"Henderson, leave us alone", the king said, also coming in without knocking.

Steve expected to hear protests, but Dustin got up and left without a word. Apparently he did actually respect the king's authority sometimes. Steve turned, knowing it wasn't wise to have your back towards the enemy.

"Suppose you're here to tell me how nice you actually are."

The king closed the door but didn't step away from it, keeping the distance between them. He looked uncertain and that enough threw Steve off. What did he have to be unsure about?

"There's something I need to tell you. Something I should have said days ago."

"What? Your nickname? I would have figured it out if those brats had any sense of awareness."

"They talk about you the same way."

Steve stood slowly, feeling somehow vulnerable even though neither of them were positioned to fight. "What?"

"Ever since they started talking to you, it was always 'Steve this, Steve that'", the king smiled in much the same way he had before. "'Steve knows so much, I learned a lot from him today'. It was kind of annoying to be honest."

Steve crossed his arms. He could relate, but he wouldn't let that show.

"I didn't want to believe that the son of my enemy could be good with kids. That he could be kind and gentle."

"Why are you telling me this?", Steve asked.

"Because I know you're not like your father. Or your grandfather. As much as you pretend to be."

"You don't know anything. And if you think being nice to me is going to get me to defect, you've got another thing coming."

"You're that loyal to your father?", he felt the words rising up out of his mouth like venom but couldn't decide if he wanted to poison the prince or protect him.

"I'm loyal to my kingdom", Steve said, voice full of sincerity. He knew he wasn't the perfect prince, but his father wasn't infallible either. But Steve's allegiance had been to his people for a long time. He felt as though he'd said too much though, when he saw the king's expression slip.

“Your king…Your father…”, Eddie looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t he say it? “When I sent the ransom letter, all I asked was to negotiate. Only then could I guarantee your safe return.”

Steve’s face showed no change. No realization. If anything, he looked resigned.

“King Alric has refused to sit with me.”

“So you can no longer guarantee my safety”, Steve surmised.

There was an even deeper resignation as his shoulders sagged and Eddie knew that Steve believed he was here to execute him. He shook his head frantically, making a decision right then and there.

“Your safety is between you and I now. It has nothing to do with that man.”

Steve frowned. "But you just said-"

"I said you're not your father."

"...So you'll let me go?"

Eddie could hear Nancy berating him and even Jeff giving him some choice words for releasing what should be a very valuable hostage without consulting them first. He pushed their voices away.

"If that is what you wish."

Steve didn't know if he felt a weight lift off his shoulders or a heavier one bear down on him. Before, his father had decided where Steve would go and he obeyed. Then he had been shackled by King Edward, only allowed where he let him. But now he was being giving a choice. To return home or to...to what? Stay here? Was it even a choice?

He felt completely unmoored and didn't know what was right.

"If you stay...", Eddie started, looking unsure himself. "If you stay, you won't be a prisoner anymore."

Steve let out a breath. "Then what will I be?"

Eddie grinned cheekily and Steve thought of the color purple. Dammit, Dustin.

"You'll be one of my little shits."

Steve laughed so sudden and loud that Eddie startled. Everything he'd been feeling had bubbled up and overflowed and finally found its way out. When he finished, he wiped a stray tear and caught his breath.

"Can we think of a better title while I think about it?"

"At your leisure, little prince."

Holy cow can you believe we're nearly done with the first arc?

Part 12

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #the party #dustin henderson

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

Note

Story request

Reader is a maid to Donna, she is very much good at her job that's why Donna let's her stay. Little did Donna know is that Reader has mind of a psychopath and she is clearly very obsessed with Donna, she always looks at her from afar without Donna knowing and whenever she cleans her clothes she sniffing it to try and smell Donna's scent. Donna doesn't know because reader acts innocent all the time. Reader loves how timid and shy Donna is and is thinking some nasty stuff she would do to her in bed. One time reader couldn't take it anymore so she put Donna in her bed. Donna is afraid in what's happening. Reader then does all the nasty stuff she is thinking. Donna is not supposed to love it bit she does. Reader is very dominant, she does everything to please her lady. Their love making lasted for an hour, Donna is clearly exhausted but satisfied. Reader seeing Donna satisfied is very proud of what she had done. Reader then confess her feelings to her. Donna told her to stay with her forever. Reader kisses her deeply and they slept.

Note: Can you make it very naughty(only if it's okay with you)? Also their love making lasted for probation 7 hours(if you're uncomfortable about this it's okay). Not gn Donna

Smut plsss

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Losing my mind

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem Maid! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark reader, Reader's POV

Word count: 6,897

Summary: I don't know if I'm in love, or obsessed...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Okay, you can stay...”

Those words still resonate in my head when I'm alone, when I think about what I'm doing here, why I was granted the privilege of having you so close to me.

Well, like everything in life, it was a coincidence. I was never a model villager, one who followed the rules of the benevolent Black Gods. I was always one step ahead of that stuff. Mother Miranda, the Lords, the village... Everything was nothing but the universe that surrounded my disturbed mind.

Rebellious, irreverent and problematic, that's how my family defined me. That doesn't matter at all anymore. Despite saying that I had no talent, saying that I would end up being one of the many concubines of the lady of the castle, that never happened.

As a cold and calculating person, I managed to ensure that none of those fates people talked about for me were true. None of their predictions came true because I, always determined to be right, to get those ideas out of their heads, specialized in a job just as boring, but with other objectives.

I was always clear that I was not a piece of meat for someone to use as they pleased, if anyone had to use someone, it would be me, even if it seemed crazy in a place like that. My face is innocent, my mind is not.

Perhaps that physical superficiality granted me the privilege of having a much better job than the rest of those who called themselves my friends. Castle concubine? Never.

Maid? Maybe, that didn't sound so bad, but not just any maid.

I liked risks, always putting myself on the edge of the abyss, risking everything recklessly, and that's what I did when I entered the forest, walking towards an almost forbidden place, the Beneviento Estate.

Showing up like that, without warning, claiming my right to work for one of the bosses was crazy, but I don't regret it.

Donna Beneviento, the youngest of the Lords, the most disturbed, the strangest, the loneliest. No one had ever seen her face. No one had been close to her without feeling the slightest terror. Of course, I've already said it. I was never like the others.

The smile graced my face when her dark figure appeared in the doorway. I was surprised I wasn't afraid. I didn't tremble when she appeared. Again, I came, I watched, and I conquered.

Despite the reluctance the lady in black had with me, despite telling me over and over again she didn't want a maid, in the end, she accepted. Insistence? No, not at all. She could strike me down with just a wave of her hands. Loneliness? It could be. Curiosity? Then we would have something in common.

Sometimes I think that I had very high confidence in everything I did, or maybe I tried harder to maintain that curious job. At first it could well have been like that, at first.

Cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, making tea... A boring job in a not so boring place. I definitely liked that job. I felt exactly how I wanted, alone, or almost.

The appearances of the lady in black were few, her words nonexistent. She only spoke through that sinister doll, never with her own voice. Dry orders, absurd rules and infrequent thanks, that was all my communication with her, at least the first few weeks.

But just when I thought my life could become normal, the opposite happened. Suddenly I saw myself going up to my room slowly, with my gaze riveted on that portrait, a portrait of the lady in black, with her face uncovered, with her beauty exposed to me.

I was never made of stone. I never denied my attraction to women, especially dangerous women, but that beauty... That went much further than other times. It could be the mystery, that small feeling of intrigue of not knowing how that beauty had been spoiled, of not knowing what was behind that black veil.

Curiosity little by little became obsession, the worst of my sins, the worst of my flaws.

“Here is your tea, my lady,” I said kindly, while the lady in black was studying a book on her desk.

My words bounced off the walls, as if the mansion itself was longing to retain them, as if it had been longing to hear a human being speak for too many years.

She, as usual, shook her head in gratitude. It could have been just another day, another empty interaction, but my hands were already trembling in her presence and my mind had been imagining her for days, near me at night, very close to me.

“Do you need anything else, my lady?” I asked politely, trying to sound like always, like the innocent girl I pretended to be. She turned her head towards me, puzzled by this strange behavior. Maybe it was too obvious, maybe not.

“N-No...” She murmured hoarsely, almost silently, making me freeze on the wooden floor.

That mysterious, whispering, melodic voice, reached my ears to disturb me even more. It was the first time I had listened to it and I knew, to my dismay, I didn't want to stop doing it. But no, I couldn't let my obsession be seen, I couldn't stop being the innocent maid, her innocent maid.

“Okay, I'll leave then,” I said, lowering my head as a sign of respect, the respect she deserved. I turned around, ready to find a corner of the house to clean, a place where I could let myself be carried away by my thoughts, where I could think about that voice, her voice.

“Wait,” the soft, hoarse sound of that voice interrupted my walk and I had to take a deep breath to not get nervous, or rather, to not seem nervous. I composed myself in less than a second and turned around slowly, with that kind look that I knew how to fake that well.

“Do you want anything else from me, my lady?” I asked, slurring my words, feeling the blush creeping up my cheeks.

Maybe I hadn't chosen my words well but no one could blame me, not after hearing that beautiful voice. No, surely my disturbed mind caused me to misinterpret my own words.

“Come,” she ordered me, gesturing with her hand for me to come closer again. I nodded slowly and obeyed immediately, having complete control of my emotions, putting on that innocent maid face.

I got close enough for her perfume to enter my body again, like the few times I managed to get close enough for that to be possible.

Lavender, a beautiful flower, beautiful like her. I could get lost in a lavender field. I wanted to do it, just to live with her smell attached to my body, so my brain wouldn't forget it, so I could feel her close to me. I was rambling again, I had to stop it.

The lady sighed, as if she herself were confused, as if she didn't know what to say. I shouldn't be surprised. She had never spoken to me directly.

“Is the tea not to your liking, my lady?” I asked again, with a look of concern. I wish it had been like that, I wish I could have gotten so close again.

“The tea is fine, (Y/N),” she replied after clearing her throat and shaking her head. “I would like to ask you a question.”

A question. How curious. Since I arrived, Lady Beneviento, Donna, didn't want anything to do with me. She knew my name because I told her. She didn't show the slightest interest. That was something that tormented me, until that moment.

“Fine,” I said, smiling kindly, with my hands in front of my body, playing with each other in a subtle way, thus channeling my nerves, the sensations the lavender perfume sent to my body.

“You don't have to answer, but I would like you to,” Donna whispered, maintaining that mysterious tone, the look that her veil prevented me from seeing, but not intuiting.

“I will be delighted to answer, my lady,” I said, lowering my head again, showing her dominance over me, the superiority that she should have with a maid, with her maid.

She nodded slowly, playing with the tea spoon, pondering what to say, or what to ask. If she didn't know what she wanted to know, why talk to me?

“Why me?” She asked after a few moments of hesitation, making me take a breath and breathe deeply, in an effort to maintain the innocence on my face.

“Excuse me, my lady, but I don't understand you,” I said, curious and confused by that strange question, taking care of even the smallest detail of my voice.

“You are an excellent maid, (Y/N),” she responded, lowering her gaze, removing her invisible eyes from mine. “You cook well, the house is better than ever... Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted with you, you know, being here... But I can't stop thinking about the reasons a girl like you could have to work for me instead of going to the castle.”

Those compliments filtered into my ears, echoing in my mind again and again, almost ignoring the rest of her words. She was delighted with me, but she never showed it, maybe I should have learned to interpret her vague gestures and the Angie doll's words better.

“The castle?” I asked automatically, as if my own mind was giving me a hand so as not to spoil everything, so that my obsessive thoughts would not give me away. Donna nodded slowly again.

“All the girls in the village who want to be maids always go to the castle,” she murmured, pushing aside her veil a to take a sip from her cup of tea. Everything I saw only fueled my dark thoughts more.

Those lips, that pale skin, that woman in the portrait who came to life before my eyes, everything had to be reason enough for my breathing to become heavy. But I couldn't do it, I was her maid, her innocent maid, not the obsessive girl who thought about her every night.

“Well, I'm not like the most of people,” I said amused, with a smile that feigned shyness, that feigned embarrassment because my lady was talking to me. I was always good at pretending, but I didn't know how long I could keep doing it, how long my mask could stay on, having that lavender perfume so close.

“Aren’t you? Why?” Donna asked, curious, gesturing for me to sit in a nearby chair. “Explain yourself.”

I obeyed, sitting in that chair. I was so terribly close to her. Love and obsession are only separated by a very fine line and I didn't even know where that line was, for a long time.

“Well...” I murmured, not knowing exactly what to say, or what she expected me to say. “I never liked doing what others did.”

Donna nodded curiously, tilting her head, as if she were studying my gestures.

“That doesn't answer my question, (Y/N),” she said in a whisper, one that seemed dark, but was surely as innocent as my expression, as my expression was intended to be.

“Well, I...” I said, a bit insecure, trembling involuntarily, seeing myself cornered in my own trap.

“You're nervous,” she interrupted, bringing her body a little closer to mine, as if she had discovered the trembling of my hands, one that I tried to avoid, without success.

“A bit, my lady,” I admitted, much to my regret. It probably wasn't the nervousness she was thinking of, but it could serve as an excuse.

“You’re afraid of me,” the lady in black stated, resting her back on the chair, impatiently tapping her desk with her fingers.

“No, my lady,” I said immediately, removing that idea from her head.

Donna shook her head strangely as if she were thinking my words were a blatant lie. They were not.

“You will be,” she said in a hoarse voice, as if she were trembling, while she brought one of her hands to the black cloth of her face, moving it away so I could look at her.

My eyes widened as I contemplated her beauty, my mouth opened to say something as my memory fixed each of those features in my head. Beautiful, precious, dazzling, those were the words that came to my mind. No, that small defect on her face was not a reason to be scared, but the feelings that began to run through my nervous system were.

But I couldn't stay like that, I had to be innocent, I had to be good, her good maid.

“You're not running away,” she murmured strangely, removing the cloth completely and leaving it on the desk. “Have you been paralyzed?”

I shook my head, realizing this was nothing but a small trap, a test to continue being a maid, her maid. My cold and calculating mind had discovered it on its own and my breathing and trembling relaxed to demonstrate the truthfulness of the words I was going to say.

“Yes, because of her beauty, my lady,” I said with a sweet voice, revealing no other intentions than those of a kind and accommodating maid, although I didn't know if that was really what Donna was hoping to hear.

Her expression changed, as if she had heard something strange.

“Sei una bugiarda...” she whispered, with that darkness that accompanied her gaze. Fortunately, I was prepared for everything, I had been preparing for a conversation with her for too long. “Io sono orribile”

“Non è vero,” I said, bringing out my weapons, demonstrating how valuable I was as a maid.

“You know Italian,” she said, relaxing her expression upon hearing my clumsy and probably terribly mispronounced words.

“A little,” I answered proudly, under her attentive gaze, one that I could already see, one that I could already imagine, that I would no longer be that cold portrait on the stairs. “I learned for you, my lady.”

“For me?” She asked, blinking repeatedly, trying not to get lost in the confusion of your answers, or in your shy look, I didn't know exactly what she could be thinking.

I nodded, with that innocent smile on my face, sighing, indicating that my words were true.

“I like to do my job well, my lady,” I said proudly, to which she finally smiled. She let me see that beautiful smile, one that only appeared in my dreams.

“I've kept you enough, (Y/N), you should get back to your tasks,” Donna said, looking away from me suddenly, frowning, making my smile fade. Just thinking about not smelling that lavender made me sick, but I had to obey, I had to be good, good for her, her good maid.

“Fine, my lady,” I said politely, getting up from the chair and slowly walking away from the desk, repressing the temptation to turn around, to imagine her bright eye was still fixed on my body.

That night was horrible.

Now that I had seen her face, my obsession worsened. And not only had I been lucky enough to contemplate her beauty, but I had been able to have a conversation with her, a real one, a close, although strange, conversation.

As I tossed and turned in bed, I imagined what our future conversations would be like, if they would be about trivial topics, if they would simply be words of gratitude, if I would see that smile again.

My thoughts remained stable, thinking only of innocent acts, of quiet closeness, of simply staying close to that lavender perfume. I knew, I knew that it wouldn't stay that way, I knew what I was like, I knew how damaged my mind was, how that small attraction would lead to the most psychopathic obsession.

For a moment I thought about giving up, about running away from that house so as not to lose my mind anymore, but it seemed impossible. Just as my dreams had predicted, those conversations came, becoming a routine of seemingly empty words, but full of meaning for me.

Love or obsession, what a dichotomy. I didn't know where my limit was, what my real thoughts or feelings for Donna were, I just knew that they were there, that they had been hidden in my subconscious for too long. Love at first sight didn’t exist, but obsession did. So... Was I obsessed? Isn't love an obsession itself?

I should have learned that lesson in time. I should have stopped thinking about Donna at least for a moment and returned to the reality of my world. I was her maid, her good and innocent maid, who hid a demon inside her, a demon that would soon want to come out, and that I had to remain locked up.

But I was always weak to my own desires. My trust with Donna grew so much that I couldn't tell if I was truly serving her or worshiping her. Always keeping my subtle smile, always being the innocent girl she seemed interested in.

Love or loneliness? What was in the feelings of the lady in black? Was it possible that she thought of me in some way? No, it seemed unlikely, not at least in the way my mind strayed from the right path, stopping imagining what her kisses would be like, and starting to think about what her naked body would be like, about the marks that would be on her skin, in those places that my lips wanted to rest on.

The nights became a continuous nightmare, one that I didn't want to leave. My mind imagined places, scenarios in which I got what I wanted, in which our bodies hugged each other naked. I imagined what it would be like to feel her wetness, her arousal as she felt my touch worshiping her skin. I imagined her moans, surely soft and shy, like her. I wondered if she had ever felt that way, if some hateful person had been lucky enough to taste her honey.

Just the fact that this was possible made me burn with rage. No, Donna never had that luck, or that misfortune. She was shy. I was her only human contact, apart from her siblings.

Thinking, recreating in my mind those scenarios in which Donna begged for her release, in which my fingers curled around her body while the sweat covered my back, they were too powerful, so much so that I began to stop dreaming, to act.

Every night my hands traveled over my body, grabbing my clothes as if they were her delicate fingers, as if Donna were the one undressing me. Every night I murmured her name as I pleasured myself, with the image of her in my mind, with her beauty clouding my rational thinking, if there was any left.

Innocent on the outside, sinner on the inside. That was what my conscience was telling me after imagining those events, after imagining what it would be like to have that perfume on my body, what it would be like to scratch her skin while she writhed in pleasure under my gaze.

I was going completely crazy. So much so that I began to notice a lack of inspiration in my nightly binges. Even conversations like the ones we used to have weren't enough anymore. My head memorized each of her words, each of her gestures, but it was no longer enough.

Donna had become a drug for me, and that made my dependence on her grow to the point of spying on her, of looking at her through the crack in the door. Watching how she worked on her dolls, how she handled the porcelain between her fingers, wishing that material would be replaced by my skin.

Like a dangerous stalker, I became her shadow, one that traveled behind her wherever she went. Nothing could stop my obsession, nor my madness. Only her, only Donna could calm my fears, just seeing her act independently, oblivious to the fact that my eyes were watching her, could be a relief for me.

And then, it was time to do the laundry, another problem for me. The lavender perfume was always present in her clothes and I, desperate, obsessed, addicted to it, smelled it in a disturbing way, wishing to never forget that scent, to have it close to me. More nights of self-lust, more thoughts, more lavender, more stalking. That's what I became, sin itself, the complete opposite of what my smile represented.

“No, I couldn't drink any more,” Donna said amused, one night when the fire in the fireplace crackled as if nothing was happening. My innocent look was still on my face as I poured some more liquid into her wine glass.

“Come on, my lady, some more wine won't hurt you. They say it's good for the heart,” I said, kindly, blinking effusively and offering her glass, which she reluctantly took. That late-night talk, adulterated by wine, was the worst thing that could happen to my obsession.

“Is it? Who says that?” She asked, her voice intoxicated by alcohol.

“Me,” I said amused, pointing to myself, bringing my own glass to my lips, but not drinking. I wanted to stay awake, I wanted to see how Donna would behave if she lost a bit, just a bit of her usual shyness.

“You...” She murmured, with a suspicious but childish look at the same time, leaning back on the sofa in an awkward manner, thus revealing her incipient state of intoxication. “You say many things…”

“What things, my lady?” I asked amused, also settling down and raising my eyebrows.

“Lies... You know... Things about me being beautiful, and good...” Donna drawled, finishing her fifth glass of wine in one gulp, making a face of displeasure.

“That’s not a lie, my lady,” I said, maintaining the composure that I was beginning to lack. My gaze became dangerous when I observed her erratic gestures and her nervous laughter, her cheeks flushed with wine.

“Yes, yes, yes... Whatever you say,” she said, nodding comically, looking for the bottle with her hands, something that you prevented, pretending to worry about her.

“I think you have already drunk enough, my lady,” I commented amusedly, moving the bottle out of her reach, making her protest with a moan that I found amusing and exciting... No, I couldn't get carried away. Her condition was my fault.

“My lady, my lady...” She mocked, putting a finger on my chest and pushing me against the sofa. I laughed, surprised, but I let her act on her own. “Why so many my lady?”

“Because you are my lady, and I’m your maid,” I explained in a calm voice, sitting up, studying her state calmly.

“Oh, really? I thought we were friends,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone, completely distorted by intoxication. I remained thoughtful, trying not to react to those words as my body asked me to.

“Well, yes, we are friends, but above all, you’re my lady,” I said, with a calm tone, observing her erratic movements, her shy laugh that shook my nerves again.

Donna looked at me, her eye shining with alcohol, but with a strange expression, approaching little by little, crawling along the sofa until she was very close to me, so close that the delicious aroma of lavender mixed with the wine clouded my senses, again.

“I like that we're friends,” she whispered, too close to my lips, too close to allow me to think with any clarity.

“Me too, my lady,” I said, trying not to look at her tender, half-open lips, trying not to get lost in her closeness, in her intoxicating perfume, adulterated by the wine.

“If you say my lady one more time, I'll fire you,” she said with an amused voice, pushing me again. I remained calm, raising my eyebrows, but not moving.

“What do you want me to call you?” I asked politely, letting her hand travel to mine. Donna had a lost, lowered gaze, looking at everything and seeing nothing. Her warm hand passed through mine, her fingers played with mine. I couldn't think it was a dream, it wasn't.

“Donna,” she whispered, looking at me sharply, with a confused expression, blinking, as if she were about to lose consciousness.

“Donna...” I repeated, letting my intentions reveal themselves. She wasn't going to notice. I doubted she even knew where she was.

She was too drunk, and I was too in love, or obsessed, or both. Her confused face gave a small smile and her lips came dangerously close to mine, tempting me, making her have to pray to the Gods not to make that mistake, that much-desired mistake.

“I like the way it sounds…” She whispered, just before placing her lips on mine, just before her temptation stopped being so. It hadn't been me, it had been her. She was kissing me. My torment, my relief, my drug and my salvation was kissing me and I couldn't react any other way.

The smell of lavender mixed with the taste of her lips, with that touch of wine that made me regret that she was really acting involuntarily. Her lips were soft, heavenly caresses that mingled with mine, with my experience making up for her lack of it. A first kiss to be ashamed of, endless sensations, food for the thoughts of my disturbed mind.

She grunted, after a few moments that I wanted to be eternal, after some messy and clumsy kisses, but that seemed sincere, they seemed. Donna collapsed onto my chest, being held by my arms. As if those kisses hadn't happened, her body shifted in mine. Donna was drunk. She kissed you because of the wine, not because of her feelings. That phrase my conscience repeated was like a sharp dagger to my heart.

“Do you feel sick?” I asked politely, not mentioning what had just happened. She shook her head with another grunt, getting more comfortable on your chest.

“I'm… Sleepy,” she murmured, yawning, making it clear that none of those kisses were really sincere.

For once in all the time you had been in the mansion, your good side, your side lacking psychopathy, prevailed over the demon. No, you weren't going to take advantage of that opportunity, you couldn't do it. At least you had some humanity left.

“Come, let's go to bed,” I said, helping the lady in black to get up, to which she protested with more childish grunts.

That night I cried.

I cried for those kisses, for that impulsive act that Donna did involuntarily. Those kisses, the taste of her lips, the lavender, everything was so perfect that it seemed unreal, and in part, it was.

My mind had saved my soul from committing an atrocity, but the demon inside me screamed louder than ever. Only I had two options left: run away, or give up.

Neither was acceptable, but a third way appeared again in my thoughts, one that had the same voice as the devil, one that screamed at me to take what I wanted, to stop pretending to be the good girl and take out the light my true personality.

It was afternoon, so the clocks said. Donna had a hard day and I decided to leave her alone for the moment. It was the first time I failed to fulfill my maid duties. My mind schemed, plotting the best way to carry out my desires. The sensations of her kisses, the images my mind had created, all of it broke the last thread of sanity I had left. You should never have kissed me, Donna.

I walked quickly, following my intuition, following the steps I knew I had to take to find her. I grabbed her wrist, fighting not to hear her questions, or her protests. I guided her towards the bedroom, furious, letting myself be carried away by the evil inside me. I couldn't hear Donna, I couldn't tell if she was protesting or quiet. Her body was weak compared to my pulls. It wasn't difficult for me to drag her to the bedroom.

Once there, I closed the door and pushed my lady against the wall, cornering her with my body. Her eyes were scared and her chest was rising and falling quickly. She had no escape, she couldn't escape me anymore.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” She asked with her voice broken by fear, by the change from my innocent look to an evil one, by the vision I had of the demon that had dominated my body.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore. You can kill me, fire me if you want, but you couldn't stop me from taking what I want...” I whispered, getting closer to her lips, dragging the words, which came furiously from my mouth.

“What do you want?” She asked, trembling, cornered. I, (Y/N), a simple villager, had put a Lord on the ropes. Surely songs would be sung about me if I didn't survive.

“I want you,” I said quickly, wasting no time, throwing myself at her soft lips, enjoying them like the night before, knowing that the wine was no longer in them, knowing that both of us could feel everything that was going on.

It could be my imagination, but if you asked me, I could swear that she kissed me back, that her lips tasted mine the same way. It was a shame that my desire was stronger than those sensations.

Quickly, leaving no room for doubt, not allowing Donna to escape my clutches, I roughly lunged for the buttons on her dress, making them disappear under my experienced fingers. She just panted confusedly, not knowing what to do or what to say. She shouldn't want it, she shouldn't like it, but somehow, she did.

Her hands grabbed my face, bringing it closer to hers, pulling it until our lips collided again, more fiercely, without the feeling of not knowing if at some point she was going to get rid of me. She didn't seem to want to do it, but I didn't care, I kept working on her clothes, sinking into her neck, moving my body against hers, covering myself in lavender.

My leg landed between hers, causing her head to tilt back, giving me the room to push that dress of hers away from her skin, to reveal her pale, beautiful, naked torso to me.

I couldn't entertain myself, but still, I did, I stopped to contemplate her unmatched beauty, the softness of her skin as my hands brushed it. She trembled, but she no longer did it out of fear. Her eye was closed and her breathing was rapid, her body moving involuntarily against mine.

My madness was unleashed, but so was my desire, and so was hers. The kisses bounced off the walls, the hands wandered over her body, over my body. Feeling the softness of her touch on my skin made me want more, much more.

“(Y/N)...” Donna murmured, moving away from my wild actions, looking at me with an expression that I couldn't interpret.

Trying to silence the voices in my head, those orders that the demon was giving me, I gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her until she fell on the bed, crawling, as if she wanted to escape from me.

“You don't know how sorry I am...” I said, also climbing onto the bed, grabbing her wrists, putting them on either side of her head so she couldn't move. “But I have to do it…”

“Do it,” Donna said, with a firm, confident look, with her fists clenched and breathing hard.

I wasn't expecting that answer, I was confused, thinking more rationally, thinking that maybe I should stop following the delusions of my mind. But that look, her half-bare chest, her glowing skin, the lavender. Everything made me let her wrists go, just to caress her arms, to climb onto her hips while my lips devoured hers again.

Her hands, now free, traveled along my back, searching for the closure of my maid's dress, which soon gave way, with a growl from my lips, removing that fabric from me, the fabric that separated my body from hers.

Clothes flew across the room and I was about to thank the Gods that I was still alive to see what was in front of me. Her naked chest, her womanly forms that were not of this world and that were now at my mercy. My lips acted before my mind, traveling to her breasts hungrily, devouring, licking her flesh like a beast, like a predator that hunted her prey.

Like a chant I remembered from dreams, Donna moaned as my teeth made contact with her most sensitive spots. Her hands moved erratically over my body while mine had a clear goal.

The bottom of her dress gave way quickly, aided by a gentle movement of her hips.

Suddenly, my lady's shyness returned to her gaze, causing her hands to leave my naked body to cover her shame, that which was still hidden by her underwear. I blinked and took a breath, relaxing my dominant attitude for a moment and removing those hands from my target.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Donna, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” I whispered, very close to her ear while my hands moved hers, moving them to either side of her hips. She looked at me, as if in silent supplication. I didn't know exactly why she was pleading and I didn't want to know.

“(Y/N) I...” She began, interrupted by my hand on her mouth. No, I didn't want to talk. There would be time to talk, to die, to flee… Now was not the time, my body didn't want to stop, neither did hers, shaking her hips against mine, making me close my eyes from the contact.

“Shh, my Donna... I'll take care of you...” I said with a somewhat perverse whisper, but that made the lady nod, closing her eye while my fingers removed the black fabric that covered the last part of her naked body, that obvious humidity I imagined possessing in my dreams.

She didn't protest anymore, she simply moaned when one of my fingers had the courage, or the audacity, to run through the moisture lying between her legs, caressing her superficially while my gaze observed her gestures, the blush of her cheeks.

That made me smile, adding another finger to that lustful way, going deeper, savoring with my fingers the humidity of her folds, each and every one of the sensations she felt with it.

I tried to say something, something to accompany my gestures, something that would help Donna stop shaking, so she would stop fearing what was to come. I smiled again when I realized, when I knew that only I had come this far, that no one else had been able to enjoy that touch, that her body was mine, only mine.

I leaned down to kiss her slowly, while my fingers continued playing between her legs, gently making circles on her clit, causing my lips to vibrate with her moans.

“Wait, please,” Donna said hurriedly, pushing you away from her lips. I looked at her furiously, just when I believed that there were no longer any doubts, that I would be free to do as I pleased.

I didn't say anything, I just waited for her to speak, which she didn't do. She just looked at me with curiosity, with fear.

“I won't hurt you,” I said, thinking that maybe it would be her fear, that her fear of her first time was overshadowing the pleasure. “I promise.”

Donna shook her head, cupping my face in her hands, scratching my cheeks with her nails.

“Be gentle, I’m begging you,” she whispered to me, with her eye closed, with her nails damaging my skin, with the trembling of her body making mine move involuntarily, seeking the contact of my bare hips with her thigh.

“You are my lady, I couldn't be any other way,” I said with a cold, impatient voice, with a disturbed look that made her sigh in fear, letting my hand rest on her chest, pushing her roughly against the mattress. “Lie down and shut up. I promise you that you will enjoy it,” I ordered with the demon inside me guiding my dominant words. She nodded scared and that was more than enough for my hand to return to her wetness, for my fingers to continue gently stimulating her.

“But...” She murmured, squirming involuntarily with pleasure.

“Taci, Donna,” I said with a stern voice, pushing her body back onto the mattress. She looked at me with fear, with real fear, but her face relaxed, stopping looking at me, closing her eye to suppress her shame.

Before having to get more serious, before bringing to light all the desire I had to dominate her, I decided to take the step. I decided to gradually introduce the tips of my fingers into her, into her eager humidity, excited despite her doubts.

Donna grimaced strangely, surprised by the sensation, but not in pain, or so it seemed. Dark thoughts came to my mind again, deducing that just as I suspected, she was a human being with the needs of a human being. Yes, it was obvious that she had enjoyed her own body. It didn't matter if she denied it to me. I knew she did.

That made me moan, lunging at her neck, rubbing filthy on her leg as my fingers did their work at her entrance, sliding in and out of her, making her arms, erratic and trembling, embrace what they could of my body.

There were no more protests, no complaints, no fears. Only moans, only the wet sound of my fingers playing inside of her, running along her walls, enjoying that unique softness, the scratches of her nails on my back.

But, like lavender, that sensation had to be better, I had to feel it more, to taste it until my smell was confused with hers.

Devoting one last look to her expression, which betrayed the immense pleasure she was feeling, I moved down her torso, covering her pale, shiny skin with kisses, making her beauty mine.

The taste of her arousal was overwhelming, as was the movement of her hips when my tongue made contact with her skin. I wanted to drink her, eat her, devour her, possess her, make me her mine. My mouth moved furiously, eagerly, accompanied by her faithful moans, almost exhausted. My fingers didn’t stop moving, harmonizing with my kisses, with the caresses of my mouth on her folds, with those moans that I myself made when I felt all the essence of her covering my body.

Little by little, her body began to move in a different way. Her instincts had taken over, her release was close. Leaving aside my own desire, I focused on making her feel that way, on seeing that expression that I could only imagine, that I could only dream of.

An indiscreet moan, possibly audible throughout the mansion, let me know that the end had come, that her ecstasy was coursing through her body while a firm and curiously mischievous hand kept me in that place, as if she were the one who didn't want me to escape. She wanted me to continue with my kisses, with my caresses.

There was a moment of silence and I closed my eyes, catching my breath. The sight of her body, of her chest rising and falling quickly dispelled my evilness. It wasn't regret, but it was a wish to give her an explanation, for her to know why. I gave her one last kiss on her wetness and climbed up her body, settling next to hers, not daring to look at her face.

“(Y/N)...” The lady sighed, moving my face to meet hers.

“I love you,” I said, with a sad tone, with a regretful tone but at the same time satisfied, proud of having made her feel that pleasure. “I'm sorry, Donna, I'm in love with you.”

“Why are you sorry?” She asked, snuggling into my chest, tired, drowsy from her release.

“Because I made a mistake and you will never be able to forgive me,” I confessed, with eyes full of tears, knowing this was the beginning of my end, although really, my fears were not letting me see the reality of the situation.

“I won't forgive you if you abandon me, (Y/N)” she said, with a pleading eye, looking at me with a different face, one I had never seen before, one... In love?

“Do you mean...?” I asked a bit confused, also tired from passion. She nodded, intertwining our fingers.

“Yes, I love you, (Y/N), I love you and I don't want you to leave, I want you to do more things like this to me, I want you to live with me, not be my maid, I want you to stay with me, forever.”

My lips didn't wait to hear more. They kissed her deeply, showing how happy it made me not to have made that mistake, showing that with her, my sanity would return to my heart.

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

Text

Traditional XI

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. She and Harry have definitely turned into one of my favorite couples I've had the pleasure of writing about. As an aside, I will be posting a long overdue "how my taglist works" (because I a tumblr-elder and don't know what I'm doing anymore). But for those of you that have been tagged throughout the series, please check out the message at the bottom.

This is the final part (not including the extras I have lined up.) There's a bit of angst and a good bit of fluff. It follows part ten immediately and I also continued with marking the days/time because I think it made it a bit easier to follow.

Truly, really, thank you so much. Part 1-11 is 67k words and I’ve enjoyed typing each one. I hope you continue to enjoy reading. Without further ado:

“She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).

Monday

“I’ll kill him,” Louis shouted, almost proudly as he entered the apartment. She shook her head and just burst into tears as she told him about all the things Harry did. While he was prepared to murder him, Louis’ heart softened with each task Harry completed to make sure his best friend was cared for. It was everything he ever hoped for the girl he thought of as one of his own sisters. He wouldn’t kill Harry. He couldn’t...not if he did all that for her.

Eleanor combed her fingers through her hair while the poor girl cried in her lap. Louis was frowning, glancing at Eleanor every so often as she spoke. “Babe,” Louis whispered when she finished her story.

She sniffled. “I don’t know why I did that,” she croaked. “That was so stupid, who does that? You should have seen the look on his face. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Of course, he will,” Eleanor said easily shaking her head. Her voice was so solid, like she had already talked to Harry about it and knew with every fiber of her being. Louis crouched beside her wiping the tears out of her eyes as comfortingly as he could. “Harry loves you, darling,” Eleanor reminded her.

“Why was I so mean?” She choked on another sob. “I’d hate me. I was so heartless.”

“You were overwhelmed, love,” Eleanor promised. “That was a lot to take in, all in one day. But he meant the best and brightest for you. You have to believe that. Harry has never done anything but try to make sure you’re taken care of.”

She took in a shaking breath as more tears poured out of her; she was so unhappy with how she handled the whole day. Maybe she was overwhelmed. That would at least have made some sense. There was so much to be overwhelmed about. Everything she had been bottling up. All of which was threatening to burst because it just had to be one of those weeks where it all just piled and piled until it all crumbled down.

“Babe,” Louis whispered trying to stop the tears from falling but failing because they kept coming faster than he could swipe her cheeks. “C’mon.”

“I know you all went to the funeral for my dad,” she sniffled. She may as well have wallowed in the hurt a bit more. They needed to know she knew. “I know they had one...I saw it in the online obituary.”

They were silent for a minute. Louis didn’t move his eyes from hers for a moment. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. So of course, she knew she was right. They did hide it from her.

However, Louis wasn’t going to forget that she let them hide it. He stared at Eleanor for a moment; having some silent conversation that only the two of them could have. The entire time she continued crying. Eleanor gave her a comforting squeeze as best she could with her sprawled across her lap.

“I think you’re scared,” Eleanor whispered without addressing her comment about the services.

“El,” Louis’ voice wasn’t a whisper like it had been directed at the sobbing girl. His tone wasn’t gentle. It was like he was warning her not to continue.

“Scared of what?” She sniffed because she may have heard the warning in Louis’ voice, but she was already miserable. It couldn’t be worse than what she felt.

“Tell her, Louis. Tell her,” Eleanor begged. She turned her attention back to her best friend.

Louis reminded her so much of her brother, she wondered if he would have been as wise as Louis was if he were still around. Even for the goofball he made himself out to be, Louis was nearly sagely at his age. He was the one she went to for advice. The one she asked for help when she needed to get Harry a birthday gift. If she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, she was pretty sure she would still call Louis first. He was her best friend because he always knew what to say to her and even if it was hard to hear he always told her the hard truths.

She could see on his face that it was going to hurt to lay whatever he was about to say in front of her if only because she was already so heartbroken. “Being cared for,” he bit the inside of his lip, but he didn’t break his gaze with her. “You think it’s a death sentence,” he told her. His tone was soothing, even though the words were not. “Because when your brother came to get you, he tragically died. Don’t think I’m forgetting that. But then, your parents stopped caring for you...so it was like...you associated the two,” he explained. “And then, you didn’t tell me. So, in your mind, caring for you is a death sentence for those that love you.”

She was speechless. Her sniffles slowed, which allowed her to sit in the upright position, but Eleanor still had her arm wrapped around her shoulders. She swallowed as she listened to him speak without hiccupping on her breath. “Do you really think we wouldn’t have let you live with us?” Eleanor asked softly from beside her. “The only one that thought you needed to get your own space was you...and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you got Harry out of the deal, but you could have lived with us for forever,” she smiled gently at her.

She stared at the two of them and Louis looked at her tear-stained face with a frown. “Love,” he said so gently. “You have spent so long building up walls making sure you take care of everyone in your life because the last time you stopped taking care of someone else and had fun of your own, something horrible and tragic happened,” She looked away from him, sniffling uncontrollably. “But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. No matter how many times your mum says it was...no matter how many times you sit next to his gravestone and feel guilty for it. He would have gone and got you and he would have turned that steering wheel to protect you over, and over, and over again,” she couldn’t look at Louis when he talked about it. It was his best friend, and she just took him away forever...all for a party. “I would have done it for you, babe,” he promised. She hated the idea of that too so much that she let out another whimpering sob. “Now, so would Harry,” he told her, and the pang of anxiety at the mere idea Harry would fatally hurt for her rippled all through her body she felt sick at the idea...it hurt all the way to her toes and made her fingertips feel numb.

But Louis pressed on making it hurt even more but with every intention of making it better. “You can’t keep your guard up forever. You can’t stop people from taking care of you because you miss him and worry about the consequences of them taking care of you,” he said. “We all take that risk for someone we love,” he brushed the tears off her cheeks once more as they were finally slowing to a pace he could keep up with. She refused to look at him. But Louis wouldn’t accept that. “Babe,” he said turning her chin back to him. “Let someone else take care of you. Let Harry do it. You’ve done it for long enough.”

Tuesday

Niall found Harry throwing the lamp on his desk against the wall of his office so hard he was surprised the wall didn’t shatter. But the lamp certainly did. Nearly splintered into a hundred pieces. He flopped into his desk chair and hung his head practically between his knees.

“Christ, the two of you today,” he grumbled hoping to find Harry in better shape than his typically better mood intern. Obviously, that would not be the case. “What’s wrong?” He asked, closing the door.

Harry ran a hand over his face. He wanted to cry but he was at work, and he shouldn’t have. “She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

His gaze snapped up to Niall and he mouthed the word whoa. If Niall said it out loud, he didn’t hear it. He was shocked by the redness of Harry’s eyes, the withdrawn look. He knew it was bad when she could hardly keep track of what she was doing this morning. It was worse than when her coffee spilled all over her things a few months ago.

But seeing his best friend so distressed…

He was awarded the slightest bit of relief to hear the word “no” at the other end. It washed over him as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, alright. Thanks,” he mumbled hanging up. He sat in his chair, and he glanced at Niall balling his hands into fists. “She gave back all the money,” he mumbled.

Niall did the easy and quick calculations in his head regarding the last eight or so months. “Whoa.”

Harry told him all about the reference calls, the graduation ceremony, and the lawyers’ meeting with her mum, and the good news. He told Niall how he paid for her student loans and kept all of it hidden from her. Harry tried to hide the tears in his eyes, but Niall knew they were there in his voice as he listened.

“Harry...you gotta just talk to her.”

“M’pretty sure she hates me.”

“That’s a load of shit, alright,” Niall said knowingly. “She loves you.” Harry felt his heart hoping a bit by way of fluttering against his ribs. He shook his head. He didn’t want to hope because she looked betrayed, and it was all his fault. Niall shook his head. “She’s all snively and you’re all angry. You two are quite the pair. You could have a show.”

He wanted to throw something at Niall, but he was too exhausted to hold his head up, let alone hold anything worth throwing—and he wouldn’t really throw something at his best friend. So, he sat there, devastated that she gave him the money back. It worried him to the core. It seemed his new fear of her leaving that apartment was going to be real, sooner rather than later.

And if she left Styles Incorporated…

“She said that you needed this today,” Niall shrugged and put a folder on Harry’s desk in front of him. He winced knowing she was still helping even when she was upset with him. “Tragic that I have to play messenger,” he shook his head. “I hope you talk to her.”

But Harry didn’t want to press. It was obvious he pressed too much and now he had to wait for her to forgive him.

Maybe.

Wednesday

She didn’t come to work.

There was nothing else to say.

There was nothing he could think about except that she didn’t come to work.

He didn’t get to see her. All day and an entire near-sleepless night. He impulsively shopped for items scheduled to be delivered the following day. Items he didn’t need but he needed to get for her...even if she never set foot in his house again.

There was nothing else he could think about.

Thursday

Niall brought his tea to him that afternoon.

So, a new nightmare plagued him, and he continued to think of nothing else but the distance she was putting between them.

Friday

For the second time in his life, and moreover, the second time within a year, Harry left work early. Niall was insistent. He was agitated beyond belief, his one meeting he was completely distracted that Niall did most of the talking. Harry’s company was substantial, but surely, she couldn’t avoid him on the entire floor.

But she did. She managed somehow to avoid him even when he kept going in and out of Niall’s office and thereby walking through her little space. But she wasn’t there a single of the seven or so times he walked through. At one point he walked in for the sake of walking in. Niall was on the phone with a client. Harry just shook his head and left before even registering the fact Niall was there.

It was after the meeting that Niall encouraged him to leave for the day. “I don’t need to,” he snapped at his friend. “Jus’ get on with it,” he muttered.

Niall sighed, blew a long breath out his mouth. He packed his belongings from off the table and patted Harry on the back. “Meeting’s over, Harry,” he said and left him alone in the conference room.

He knew he was in tough shape but not even realizing the meeting was over seemed bad even for the way he was feeling. Rubbing the back of his head, he headed once more to Niall’s office. This time he wasn’t surprised she wasn’t there. Harry apologized to Niall quickly, returned to gather his stuff from his office, and left for home.

“Harry went home, so you don’t have to keep hiding,” Niall rolled his eyes as she tentatively tiptoed into her office. He didn’t look up, so he didn’t see the way she nearly dropped all of the papers in her arms at Niall’s sudden (accurate) accusation that she was hiding.

She bit her lip and put the papers on her desk. Niall didn’t look up as she walked toward his desk. “I yelled at him,” she whispered.

“Good, he probably deserved it,” Niall said simply. “People don’t yell at him enough. Think because he’s CEO, he’s without a flaw,” he shrugged. “He’s not, I’ve never seen him finish one document on his own because he never remembers how to fill it out. The man can’t multiply to save his life—I always do the tip at the restaurant. He has a terrible signature on contracts. It’s embarrassing to sign my name next to his. Also, he has a terrible handicap even though he’s been golfing for at least seven or so years now,” he said as if that should be the reason that she could yell at him. He looked up and smiled at her because it was an attempt to make her laugh but didn’t seem to do the trick.

“He’s also really cranky when he doesn’t see you at night now,” this was much softer said. His voice quiet as he further explained this. “And he bothers me. Called me at one in the morning last night asking if I wanted a porch swing. Do you know he has an online shopping problem? It’s worst when he's upset. He panic-ordered three sets of dishware when you got burned,” he continued. Her heart fluttered at the mention of a porch swing. It shot through her like a bolt of electricity. That was because of her. She knew it. But Niall’s attempt still got him not even a smirk. “You should probably go after him,” he smiled at her sadly once more. “You need to talk to him.”

She shook her head. “He won’t forgive me.”

Niall rolled his eyes again. “Would you forgive him if this whole crazy scenario was reversed?”

She looked at her feet because she wouldn’t even need to forgive him. It would be a non-issue. “I see why Harry made you his sous-chef around here,” she muttered...because yes, of course she would. Probably before he even tried to apologize, at that.

“I knew there was a reason,” he winked at her. “Have a lovely weekend, darling,” he said going back to the documents on his desk.

“Are you sure?” She whispered after a moment.

“He loves you. I promise.”

“But all the other interns...the...companions. I’d be no different falling all over him.”

“He fell for you long before you did,” he told her simply.

She swallowed, blushing at the notion. Her stomach flipped with hope. “Do you know he went to the funeral?” She whispered.

Niall frowned because he didn’t know that, but he did know that had to hurt her. He looked back up to meet her gaze and he smiled gently at her. “Another reason you should yell at him.”

“You’re a really good friend, Niall,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can’t wait to be one of your best friends, love,” he winked.

She took one more deep breath, hurried over to Niall’s desk. She kissed his cheek as he worked. He smiled. “Sorry I’m taking your job,” she whispered to him.

He threw his head back a bit and laughed. “I’d like to see you try,” but he didn’t mind, really. It would be worth it to have her around.

The driver was waiting at the edge of the cemetery. She took her wedges off so she wouldn’t get them covered in dirt as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She fiddled with the flowers—Eleanor probably planted them. Or maybe even her mom. She was surprised because there weren’t as many weeds pushing through the ground as there should have been—especially when she took notice of the other stones nearby. “I think you’d really like him,” she whispered. Of course, there was no response. “Louis likes him,” she told him. “So...there’s that,” she shrugged. “And he has a porch swing,” she added. “We’re not even together and he still didn’t cheat on me, so he beat the last guy, y’know?” she smirked sadly. “I wish you could’ve met him...”

She paused, looking around the grounds for a moment before she continued. “If you look, you can see a car over there, yeah? That poor man has to follow me everywhere because Harry doesn’t want me to get stuck without a ride in inclement weather or something,” she whispered, smiled sadly. “I’m so in love with him, I swear I can feel it in the atoms of my heart,” her eyes watered. “I gave him all the money back. I want him to know that I’m not...I don’t want money. I just want him,” she told him. “I know you would probably hate the idea of me being in love with anyone...but at least I waited until college...poor El stuck with Louis for the rest of her life,” she sighed as if it really were a tragedy. But it wasn’t. She loved Eleanor and Louis so much.

“Niall said he’s really bad at golf though, so you could still make fun of him about something,” she let out a watery laugh. “I miss you...so much,” she whispered. “I hope Dad is happy again,” she glanced over at the nearby plot of land. “He missed you,” she sniffled. “We all miss you,” her voice cracked. “Okay...I’m gonna go grovel for forgiveness, now,” she said. “I’ll see you soon,” she kissed two of her fingers and pressed them over his name before getting off the ground, brushing the dirt off, and headed for the car.

“Are you alright, Miss?” He asked with the utmost concern. He was opening the door for her as she approached.

She nodded, sniffling, and wiping her eyes. “For now,” she sighed. “Can you bring me to Harry’s?” She asked.

Harry didn’t want to answer the door. But whoever was on the other side knocked, then rang the doorbell. Knocked again. Doorbell again. Persistent.

If it was Niall coming to console him, he was going to kill him, simple as that. “For fucks sake,” he grumbled marching to the door in an angry fit. “Niall, y’made me leave early, and I did. What d’you want?” He snapped loud enough to hear through the door before ripping it out of the way.

She flinched at his harsh tone. Her eyes were puffy and red. She looked so defeated as she turned her gaze to the ground. His heart hammered against his ribs in total shock that she was there. Left him utterly speechless. “I know this is stupid...” she started. “I’m sorry. It’s not enough because you deserve so much more than sorry. It’s never going to be enough, but I am so... very sorry. I was...” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I was. What I said was so hurtful and so untrue. You have to believe that,” she was staring at her feet while she spoke. “Harry,” her voice cracked, and she was so worried it wasn’t enough. He didn’t make any noise and she was certain if he didn’t forgive her, she would die in that spot. “I know you didn’t mean anything by what you did other than to help me. But I don’t accept help very well... in case it wasn’t obvious. Especially when it comes to something like...my career or my...past,” she explained. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I shouldn’t have said such awful things and I would time travel back to that moment and slap myself for even thinking about speaking to you like that. It was horrible,” she shook her head. “I’ll beg every day for as long as you want if you’ll forgive me,” she whispered. “I am—”

Harry pulled her into his arms suddenly, one arm around her waist, the other snaking up her back to hold the back of her head. He clutched her against him as tightly as he could without hurting her or inhibiting her breathing. “You were already forgiven,” he murmured breathing deeply into her hair. He kissed the side of her face. She released a long breath and buried her face against the side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily,” she sniffled clinging back to him like he was a buoy. Of course, he kept her afloat.

“I’ll yell at you later if that’ll make you feel better.”

She nodded. “It really would.”

He smiled, kissed the side of her head again. Harry wouldn’t yell at her if his life depended on it. “I jus’ want t’take care of you,” he promised. “That’s it.”

“I know, you told me that first day you messaged me.” He smirked thinking about how a year ago, she wasn’t in his mind at all. He didn’t even know she existed. Now, he thought about spending one second without her beside him and it seemed like full-blown torture. “Louis said I take care of everyone else because the last time someone cared about me, they died,” she said bluntly. “Seven years of therapy and Louis was the only one who said it,” she muttered. Harry was glad she was tucked below his chin because he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. It was incredible she could make a joke in even the saddest of circumstances. She took a shivering, heaving breath. Harry tried to pull back so he could see her, but she squeezed him in place. Like she didn’t want to say it while looking at him. He nodded in encouragement for her to continue. “People will know if you hire me. You’d literally be making a position for me. And so… I thought if I got a job elsewhere... we could…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. She tucked her face deeper in his shoulder. “I…uh...”

He pulled back this time and didn’t stop when she tried to hold him in place. He pressed his hand to the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Thought we could be a real couple?” He asked softly.

Her cheeks turned red as ever and she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

He didn’t pause for even half a second. He didn’t want her to make her feel embarrassed or worried about anything regarding their future. “Kitten, m’so in love with you, I don’t care if we tell the entire world. I don’t care if everyone knows or if no one knows. All that matters t’me is that I love you so much.”

Her eyes watered and her heart melted. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him so much it hurt but he said it so beautifully and without a care. She didn’t know how to articulate it as perfectly as he did. “They should really put a warning on that site about how you may accidentally find your soul mate.”

He managed to smile this time for just a mere moment as she spoke; his heart skipped beats waiting for her to say she loved him back. While she didn’t say it exactly as he thought she would (but when did she ever do what he expected?), it was exactly what he wanted her to say and meant just as much if not even more.

Then he kissed her so deeply he thought he might bruise her lips. But if he did, he thought she might not even mind.

Harry lifted her legs, so they were wrapped around his hips. He carried her all the way to the kitchen, pausing only to kick the door closed. He settled her on the counter and started looking for some medicine. He didn’t ask if her head hurt because the redness in her eyes told him it was aching.

“You have t’take the money back,” Harry said leaning down to take her shoes off as she swallowed the medicine. He tossed them toward the TV room. “I shattered a lamp over it,” he stood back up and kissed her again on the forehead.

“Niall told me,” she smirked at him. He stood between her knees.

“Can’t have any secrets with him,” Harry muttered.

She giggled and Harry pressed his lips to hers again then pulled back so he could hold her face between his hands. He smiled at her with a shake of his head. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.

“Mm... the bloodshot eyes? The tired dark circles? The gray skin? That does it for you?”

“M-hmm,” he pressed his nose along the side of her face inhaling the mixture of her hair and soap. He didn’t cater to her insults to herself. “Take the money back,” he mumbled into her ear and pressed a series of kisses down the length of her neck. She shook her head trying to ignore the dizziness she felt from his lips on her skin. “Please kitten,” he was begging. Objectively, it was adorable. But she couldn’t accept it.

“Baby, you can’t pay me a salary, pay my student loans, and let me live here all—”

“You’re going t’live here?” He pulled back from her neck suddenly with a sparkle in his eyes that made it look like he was a little kid. Like it was Christmas, and he was getting the sled he asked for.

Her face was definitely not gray at that moment. She was completely blushing almost beyond recognition at her mistaken words. She shook her head quickly, trying to backtrack (uselessly). “No! I meant the apartment! I didn’t say that—”

“Please, please, please,” he now for sure, full-on begged. “Please live here, kitten.”

Her heart fluttered and she bit her lip trying to recover from how much she had revealed by accident. “Well...what am I supposed to do with all my great IKEA furniture?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes and pressed his face back into her neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him clinging to him. “Throw it out, of course.”

“You’re so mean.”

He nodded against her and sighed, so happy she was there. So happy she was all his. “The meanest,” he assented. “Please live here,” he mumbled kissing the curve where her shoulder and neck met.

“You do have a porch swing,” she amended verbally but as if she were weighing the consideration in her head. His lips on her skin had such an effect on her it was hard to stand her ground or concentrate on joking around with him about the idea. “Speaking of—Niall told me you asked if he wanted one. Are you getting a new one or someth—what’s that?” She asked, glancing out the window as she spoke. She pushed him away immediately, rushing outside. She stood on his porch in total shock staring at his newest purchase before she turned back to him with a curious expression.

He followed behind her and stood in the doorway. “You said you would sleep out here if you could,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d make it possible...in case you ever came back.”

Where her favorite porch swing used to hang, was now a spacious, gorgeous, porch bed with so many pillows, so many blankets, and it nearly looked comfier than her lovely mattress back at the apartment. Her eyes watered and she swallowed so hard because she knew she had said that nearly three months ago in passing. And he remembered. So even when she wasn’t speaking to him, it was enough that he did something for her without knowing if she’d really be back. “You are something else, Harry.”

“Wait till y’see my new canopy bed,” he smirked feeling his cheeks warm at her compliment. Her heart nearly stopped because the canopy was mentioned almost nine months ago and the idea that he remembered anything from nine months ago was...well it was very Harry and very perfect.

“Baby, I love you and your impulse shopping so very much,” she whispered unable to look away from that beautiful reminder of how much he adored her. It made her feel so light that he cared for her so much. Now that he did, it was hard to imagine not feeling like this ever again.

Harry had other ideas though. He twisted her so quickly, her breath caught in her throat. He turned her back to face him and not the new bed. One arm wrapped around her waist, and he brought his other hand to her cheek in the one instant that she couldn’t even stumble because Harry had such a tight hold on her. He smiled at her, as if he was just told he won the lottery. Truly, he felt like he did. “Say it again,” he mumbled pressing his forehead to hers, his lips almost brushing hers as he spoke. She smiled shyly, the heat coming from her cheek warmed Harry’s hand.

“Say what? I love you?” She asked looping her arms loosely around his neck. He nodded silently and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you,” she grinned so cutely Harry thought he would burst.

“Again,” he mumbled smiling as he carefully squeezed around her waist to lift her just so her toes hovered above the ground. She giggled.

“I love you.”

He kissed her left cheek. “More,” he inched toward the new outdoor bed.

“I love you,” she whispered, giggling more at his sweet request as he kissed her right cheek.

“Again,” he repeated.

“I love you, so, so much Harry Styles,” she whispered, holding his face between her hands, and Harry laid her back on the bed and kissed her again, fully on the lips with no intention of leaving that space for the rest of the weekend. Or until she asked to go see the canopy bed.

Whatever she wanted.

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hollowed-theory-hall · 7 months ago

Note

Any HC's on what's going on with Luna?

Hi, so I really like Luna as a character, and I've seen various theories about her being a seer, which at least used to be popular in fic, but I never got that impression from her. Personally, I don't think there's anything magical going on with Luna. I think she's just a girl with imagination, a sense of whimsy, and some trauma of her own who chose to handle it through her internal little world rather than anger and other more externalized ways to cope.

So, this kinda ended up being a bit of a character study on Luna...

Pandora Lovegood & Luna's Trauma

One of the major moments in Luna's life that really changed her worldview and approach to people and the world was her mother's death:

“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve known ever died?” “Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.” “I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. “Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.”

(OotP, 863)

I want to talk about her mother, her death, and Luna's general outlook on death and tragedy which explains a lot of her characters.

So Pandora Lovegood experimented with spells and one went badly enough to kill her in front of her 9-year-old daughter. This is why Luna can see Thestrals and hear voices from beyond the veil like Harry and Neville. But Luna, at her soul is an optimist and a very brave one at that. This is something that she doesn't share with her father, which I'd get to, so I think her outlook on life and death is actually something she learned from her mother.

Luna prefers to look at the half-full part of the glass. She is choosing not to get too sad over things or bothered over her bullying (which I'll get to). The main point is that Luna's way of dealing with the hardship and trauma of watching her mother die is to feel the sadness of it, but not let herself wallow in it. She keeps pushing herself forward.

I headcanon Luna took her mother's death to embrace her mother's outlook on life. That things will always be fine, that they'd always work out. I don't think Luna knows for certain everything will be fine, but she chooses to believe it will be and you see it with her later in the books as well.

“I was saying, what are those horse things?” Harry said, as he, Ron, and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting. [...] “It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach’s dark interior. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them too.” “Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes. “Oh yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.” Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

(OotP, 198-199)

Again, this shows her way of dealing with death and loss that ended up helping Harry. She sees the Thestrals and instead of being discomforted by them and the loss they remind her of (like Neville and Theodore Nott), she tries to smile, to take comfort in the reminder of her mother. "It's sad that she's dead, but it's okay, things will be okay", it's not a direct quote, but I feel it summarises Luna's outlook on loss and negative life experiences in general.

Xenophilius and the Quibbler

As I mentioned above, Xenophilius is much less brave and optimistic than Luna, hence why I think she learned her positive outlook from Pandora and not him:

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally, he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She . . . she will like to see you. I’ll go and call her and then—very well. I shall try to help you.” He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. They looked at each other. “Cowardly old wart,” said Ron. “Luna’s got ten times his guts.”

(DH, 347)

I understand him, I really do. He lost his wife, and his daughter is all he has, of course, he's scared of helping Harry. He doesn't want to lose Luna too. But, I headcanon Pandora was like Luna in that regard. She wouldn't have let fear stop her. I mean, she had to be brave to experiment with the kind of dangerous spells that'll kill her.

The other thing I want to note about Xenophilius and Luna is how close they seem to be whenever we see them:

Bidding the wizards farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look—one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today—perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish—do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”

(DH, 124)

They seem very affectionate and close, both with words and I'm sure also physical affection. Luna even mentions she still has her dad when she explains how she handles her mother's loss. I think both of them grew closer and more dependent on each other after Pandora's death. And I think that's what really pulled them both through it. Each other.

I write about it more later in this post, but Luna tends to comfort a lot of characters. Hermione, Ollivanders, Harry, and I think the first person she practiced this with was her father. She is a very empathetic person and she watched loss affect her father first-hand. I think, that after they lost Pandora, Luna did more of the heavy lifting in terms of emotional comfort rather than Xenophilius, who was probably a bit of a wreck.

Now, the third major thing I think Luna learned from her father is his various odd beliefs. To name a few Quibbler article titles from the beginning of OotP:

How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?

CORRUPTION IN THE QUIDDITCH LEAGUE: How the Tornados Are Taking Control

SIRIUS - Black As He’s Painted? Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

We all know they have some odd ideas, and are both very convinced of them. Luna never strays in her belief in the things her father writes about:

Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly. “No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. “Yes, he has,” said Luna. “What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank. “They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —” “They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. “Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily. “I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione. “There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

(OotP, 345)

She actually shows a dislike and anger toward Hermione at first because of how Hermione treats the things she believes in. Luna doesn't get angry often, but when her beliefs are ridiculed in the way Hermione does so, is one of these few times. She doesn't mind being called "Loony", but she cares about her, and her father's beliefs are aggressively questioned. She wouldn't have minded it if Hermione just didn't believe her (like Ron and Ginny) what bothers her is that Hermione doesn't even entertain the possibility of these creatures being real. What angers her is Hermione's closed-mindedness, not that she doesn't agree with her. Luna doesn't mind being alone in her beliefs, she minds closed-minded people who think they know everything, that's what gets her annoyed with Hermione, I think.

Now, I kind of want to discuss why Luna and Xenehpilius believe what they believe. Well, more Xenephilius than Luna, because he taught her most of it and gave her all the evidence she is basing her understanding of all these creatures and conspiracies come from.

Because that's what a lot of these are — conspiracies — and mostly about the Ministry of Magic. These article titles are somewhat like farfetched conspiracy theories like: "NASA hiding a second sun at the center of the Earth" or "Did you know the Earth is actually flat but the government doesn't want you to know" or anything to do with Area 51 and aliens. The articles from the Quibbler sound awfully a lot like that. And it seemed the main reason Xenophilius and Luna believed Harry was because the ministry didn't.

Xenophilius and Luna also believe in miracle cures like gnome venom (as quoted earlier), Gurdyroots and Plumpies:

“May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?” said Xenophilius. “We make it ourselves.” As he started to pour out the drink, which was a deep purple as beetroot juice, he added, “Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plumpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.

(DS, 348)

They are essentially wizard conspiracy theorist hippies.

Basically, Xenophilius and Luna distrust the ministry (rightfully so, as the ministry sucks) but they took their distrust to the extreme. Essentially believing any information from the ministry, or ministry-sanctioned textbooks and newspapers to be false (some of it definitely is false, but not all). If it comes from the ministry it's false in their eyes and therefore everything the ministry doesn't live in is true, even if it doesn't make sense. So what I think is going on with the Lovegoods, and what they are supposed to be, is just conspiracy theorists, who rightfully distrust their government, but took this distrust too far beyond common sense. It doesn't mean all they belive is false, they are actually correct often enough, but not always.

Now, I think, as I said, they have a good reason to distrust the ministry, they just took it a bit far. I actually have a bit of a headcanon about how Xenophilius came to the conclusion that they can't trust ministry.

My headcanon is that it has to do with Pandora's death. We don't really have any indication that Xenophilius believed in everything he did before her death. Neither do we know how exactly the spell killed Pandora. I think the ministry either hid information about Pandora's condition, used some spells she created in their books without giving her credit, or the ministry never sanctioned her spells (we know the ministry does approve spells, Hermione mentions as much in HBP). I'm not sure what exactly went with the ministry, but I headcanon Xenophilius has a personal reason related to Pandora to distrust them.

Loony Luna

We know Luna gets bullied. Her belongings get stolen, other students call her "Loony". And it isn't surprising she gets bullied. children are mean to anyone who is weird and different and Hogwarts has no anti-bullying measures. Literally none, the faculty doesn't care.

What is more interesting is Luna's outlook on her own bullying. It's the same optimistic acceptance of how she treats death.

“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked. “Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “People take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I really do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.” She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough, she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea for their return. An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna. “How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning. “Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd, you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.” Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully. “That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly. “D’you want help finding them?” “Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . . why aren’t you at the feast?”

(OotP, 862-863)

Other Ravenclaws steal her things and hide them, they call her "Loony" and at no point is Luna angry or scared. She is calm and serene and she declines Harry's help because she believes it will all work out. It's the same outlook on death and sadness: "Everything will be fine, just keep your chin up and believe things will be good" That just really seems to be Luna's life philosophy. She faces every problem with optimism and serenity.

Instead of being concerned over her own situation, she actually goes a step further and ask how Harry is doing. Luna goes out of her way to brighten up other people's lives and help them see the good in situations like she can. She is really sweet.

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” said Luna serenely. “It was like having friends.” This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

(HBP, 138)

“Oh, it’s been all right,” said Luna. “A bit lonely without the D.A. Ginny’s been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me ‘Loony’ the other day —”

(HBP, 311)

These are two more examples of Luna's being bullied. She is lonely and didn't really have friends before the D.A. But just like with her missing things, while it makes her sad, she doesn't wallow in it. She looks at the good parts. The happy memories, the fact that Ginny defends her now. Honestly, it's a healthier coping mechanism than what we see with other characters, I'll give her that.

The other interesting note is how honest she is with all of it. She always says things exactly how she believes they are. She doesn't lie or hide information from people, even for their own comfort. I think this has to do with the distrust in the ministry her father and her share.

Essentially, she was raised being told how awful the ministry is for lying to everyone and how it's horrible they hide information from the wizarding world. I think this is part of why she is so honest and straightforward. She really sees hiding information and lying as awful things to do. And, I mean, she's a Ravenclaw for a reason, she likely believes information should be accessible to know and learn, not hidden in the bawls of the ministry. It's all part of her honesty.

Luna's Empathy

Luna is one of the more empathetic characters in the books. I mentioned before how she goes out of her way to encourage and comfort others, and here are some examples I picked up:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you look for your stuff?” he said. “Oh no,” said Luna. “No, I think I’ll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up. . . . It always does in the end. . . . Well, have a nice holiday, Harry.” “Yeah . . . yeah, you too.” She walked away from him, and as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.

(OotP, 864)

Luna is the first person to make Harry feel better after Sirius' death, to tell him life goes on and actually convince him of it. She can empathize with people really weel and tell them what they need to hear.

He finally tracked her [Hermione] down as she emerged from a girls’ bathroom on the floor below. She was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back. “Oh, hello, Harry,” said Luna. “Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?” “Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff. . . .” He held out her books. “Oh yes,” said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case. “Thank you, Harry. Well, I’d better get going. . . .” And she hurried off, without giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any. “She’s a bit upset,” said Luna. “I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley. . . .”

(HBP, 310)

Even with Hermione, whom Luna tends to argue with most due to Hermione appearing closed-minded to Luna, when Luna hears crying her first instinct is to go help. And she actually seemed to have made Hermione feel better, she found the right things to say.

Her mention of Moaning Myrtle makes it sound like Luna knows the ghost well. My headcanon is that in Luna's first years, when she was lonely and had no friends, she sat and chatted with Myrtle, and they had a cute little lonely friendship.

“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., “That’s right, Harry. . . come on think of something happy. . . .” “Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked. “We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .”

(DS, 548)

Encouraging Harry to cast a Patronus when they need one.

“I’m going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander,” said Luna, approaching the old man. “And I you, my dear,” said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder. “You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.”

(DH, 437)

And even comforting Ollivanders.

Luna just brings comfort to everyone she meets. Knowing what to say to make them feel better.

About her supposed seer-like abilities

As I said, I don't think Luna is a seer or anything like that. I think she's intelligent, open-minded, incredibly empathetic, has some extreme distrust in the ministry, and has an overall life philosophy of looking at the full half of the cup.

When I searched for scenes that had "extra-magical" potential I found only two:

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. [...] The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.

(OotP, 185)

I think this is more Luna being awkward because she never had friends more than anything. I think she is just honestly shocked and confused that Harry and Co. want to sit with her; of like, their free will, and not just to say mean things.

As much as Luna holds her head high, she is hurt by her bullies and loneliness, she just chooses to not internalize any of it and never stop to be herself. Honestly I really appreciate this aspect of Luna, I adore her ability to stay afloat.

The second scene:

He led a party of warlocks into the marquee as Luna rushed up. “Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er—my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know—?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said.

(DH, 123)

I don't think this is being a "seer" or anything like that. I believe this is an extension of Luna's intense empathy. She says she recognises Harry's expression. Also, she's smart and he acts around Ron the way he always does, Luna would be able to recognize it...

So, yeah, these are my thoughts about Luna.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anon asks #anonymous #luna lovegood #harry potter meta #hp headcanon #hollowedheadcanon #hollowedtheory

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