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echo-of-damnation · 11 days ago

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Love Me Loving You

Tags: Konrad CurzexFem!Reader, body worship, vaginal sex, fluff and smut, slow start, slight power play, possessive reader, biting, love marks, slightly subby Konrad, mention of impregnation

Summary: It was the first time in weeks you got Konrad to actually let his guard down and rest. Admittedly it was like trying to wrangle irritable raptors on their best days, but some how you managed. He demanded you keep awake while he slept “in case of an emergency,” but you both know nothing would be happening, the ship had been sailing through space for the last month and wouldn’t be contacting anything or anyone for another four.

Ooooooooooor Reader finally convinces Konrad to take a little time to relax and "relax" they do.

Echo's echo: This has partly inspired by a thing in saw here about Konrad needing someone to give him a little tender loving care and partly because I felt bad about what I did to him in my other fic. Bat Dad deserves some lovin' and I am here to provide it

Word Count: 4,436

It was the first time in weeks you got Konrad to actually let his guard down and rest. Admittedly it was like trying to wrangle irritable raptors on their best days, but some how you managed. He demanded you keep awake while he slept “in case of an emergency,” but you both know nothing would be happening, the ship had been sailing through space for the last month and wouldn’t be contacting anything or anyone for another four.

He had picked you up like you were a fussy child and sat you down against the headboard of his much too large bed. For someone known for his violent brutality, Konrad enjoyed the softest silk sheets and dozens of the fluffiest pillows the galaxy had. You knew the whole routine by now, it was rare, but you enjoyed these little moments of tenderness you could share with your beloved.

While you moved one of the many pillows behind you to support your back, you watched as Konrad stripped from his armor. If it were any other baseline watching, they would only see the fearsome concentration that seemed to be permanently etched into his features, but you could see the sluggishness in his movements. The way he put the pieces on the table like they were aa touch too heavy for him, how he took a fraction of a second longer to unbuckle the straps around his waist, his eyelids seeming to threaten to close on him the longer he stood. Once he was out of it, he worked on putting on the loose tunic and pants you had sown for him from the softest linen one of the imperial planets had had.

Taking your eyes away to finish getting ready yourself, you leaned over to the small table you had him put in by the bed and pulled out the small bag of selfcare products you had brought for this journey. Opening it you pulled out a bottle of oil you had the apothecaries make to soothe his aching muscles and a different bottle of oil and a wooden wide toothed comb for his hair and scalp. Konrad rarely took proper care of himself, often going to bed in the same bloody underclothes for weeks on end, letting his long hair turn into the equivalent of a rats nest. The first few times after he picked you up from your home planet and allowed you to sleep in his bed with him, you thought you would die from the smell and the sickly sticky feeling his sheets left you in. No one ever fought the Night Haunter for fear of being killed, but you fought him on this. It was like pulling teeth until one day you told him you would not touch him until he did something about it all. To the surprise to everyone but you, Konrad conceded and began to at least shower and use clean clothes and sheets when you were here (which was starting to be more often).

With a loud huff, Konrad all but fell into the cloud soft bed, scooting himself until his head rested comfortably in your lap looking up at you. You had noticed he loved the plushness of your thighs, so you used them to your advantage in moments like this. Once he was settled, you could feel him sink into you as he closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. Looking down at him like this reminded you of how beautiful he was. Many people would and have called you crazy for agreeing to be his bride, but you knew Konrad better than anyone. Watching the tension melt away before your eyes as he finally let himself relax was almost heretical. Relaxed like this, he looked like a different man. Someone who never had to fight for his next meal as a child, who knew a warm bed and a homemade meal. The frown that seemed almost permanent fading away to plush lips, his tight cheeks loosening so that the small bit of fat he had there filled and rounded them.

Not being able to help yourself, you brought one of your hands to caress his cheek, feeling the warmth he radiated just under his skin. Konrad hummed low in his chest, leaning into your touch. You knew how much physical touch soothed him and you were more than willing to give him what he wanted, it was almost impossible for you to keep your hands off of him. “You are staring again, my love,” Konrad murmured as he took hold of the hand on his face, pulling you wrist to his lips to kiss you softly.

“Mm I guess I am. Can I be blamed when the most beautiful creature sits prettily in my lap?” you loved to tease him.

Huffing, Konrad nipped playfully at the pulse point on your wrist, “I know of no such beast.”

The two of you shared a moment, soft smiles sitting on your faces as you took your hand from his. Reaching over to the table you grabbed the oil for his muscles, pouring a generous amount in your hand. As you rubbed your hands together to warm the oil, Konrad readjusted himself to ensure you had full access of his upper body.

The smell of deep lavender filled the small space, easing the tension of both of your bodies just from the smell. Slowly you bring your hands to either side of his neck and begin to work the tight muscles. A low moan escaped his lips as you worked out the knots, pushing firmly with your thumbs down the length of his neck to where his shoulders met. His mouth falling open slightly as you continued to work in that junction where all of the stresses of his life seemed to make their home.

Content with your work once you feel the knots melt away, you begin working on his arms one at a time. Moving his right arm so you have better access, you start working at his shoulder, working the deltoid. You marveled at the strength that hid just under the skin, you could feel it as you massaged and caressed him. Even the scars that littered his body was magnificent, the visual memories of battles fought and won. They had an almost silvery sheen to them against his grey skin as if they were tattoos of the finest ink. Working your way down his arm and down his forearm, you picked up his hand to massage the small muscles there.

He always held things too tightly, either from frustration of the task or from the fear of failing, and it never failed to fatigue his hands. They were large and lean like the rest of him. You took care around the newest splits in his skin around his knuckles trying to keep the oil from them, but it was a fruitless attempt. A hiss made its way out of him as a small drop found its way in, sending a slight burn down his arm. You brought his hand to your mouth and gently licked at the burning knuckle, trying to soothe the pain. It wasn’t a conscious thought; your hands were both coated, and you needed to deal with the issue. A deep and low groan rumbled from his chest as you lapped at his knuckle. Peaking down at him, the pure unbridled want in his eyes sent a shock straight down to your groin. His black eyes watching every movement of your tongue.

Throne he is beautiful, you thought. Letting your body act on its own, you began to run your tongue up his thick finger savoring the flavor that was uniquely Konrad. His mouth fell open a little wider as you took his fingers in your mouth, a moan vibrating in your throat at the warmth and weight of them in your tongue. Looking back down you could see him struggle to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. The thought of this monster from the nightmares of millions across the stars laying in your lap as you sucked off his finger made you giggle. Removing his hand from your mouth you playfully bit at the fat just under his thumb, earning you a hiss and a light thwack on your forehead.

“I was rather enjoying that before you rudely mauled me,” he grumbled, closing his eyes once more as you moved on to his other arm. “Oh, I can see just how much you enjoyed it, my love,” a blush coloring his pale cheeks at your teasing. You took more professional care on his other arm, making sure to work out the knots. Adjusting the pressure or location at the request of the man beneath you.

Placing his other arm down you reapplied more oil in your hands and started to work on his chest. Tucking your arms under the wide neck of the tunic he wore, you started with slow circles around his pecs paying close attention to the outer side of them. Because of the size of your ungrateful client, you had to bend over his face a bit. You didn’t think it was a problem until deep in concentration you felt teeth lightly graze the skin of your breast. Quickly leaning back up, you hadn’t realized that Konrad had been gently pulling and tearing at the neck of your shirt to free your breast.

With a slap to the face a tad harder than you anticipated, the hunger in Konrads eyes returned. “Now sweet thing, you know you can not tempt a blood hungry beast with a supple piece of meat,” a shit eating grin spreading across his face, “I was simply acting on…instinct.”

“Well, if this beast can not behave, then they can groom themselves,” you huffed as you crossed your arms against your chest to pout.

A low rumbling chuckled filled the room and unfortunately sending vibrations against your lower region. You tried to ignore it as you continued to pout as Konrad easily moved your arms away, bringing your wrists to his mouth and tenderly kissing each one. “I jest my love. Please continue, it feels so nice,” if you didn’t know better you could have almost said he was giving you puppy dog eyes to bolster his honeyed words.

“Fine but act out again and you can have Jago do the rest!” you said as you tried to hid a smile. You went to place your hands back under his shirt before he grabbed both of your wrists, “Perhaps you could do this from the other direction to…get a better angle.” You knew what the man under you was alluding to. You saw the way his nostrils had flared when his laugh hit your core and if you were going to be honest, it had been a while since you enjoyed something solid between your thighs.

“I’m only doing this to do a better job. No funny business, okay Mister,” you knew it was an empty threat, but you couldn’t let Konrad think he won this easily. “My honor as a Primarch in my Father’s Imperium permits me from any ‘funny business’,” you made to slap him again, but Konrad easily caught your wrist, running his tongue along the veins before placing a soft kiss on them. A shiver going straight down your spine with it all.

Konrad lifted himself from your thighs and in a practiced motion, picked you up and placed you on his stomach seeming to make good on his “no funny business” promise. He pulled off the tunic and moved the pillow you had been leaning against under his head. As you got comfortable straddling him, you knew he would be able to feel the warmth that radiated from your cunt.

After both of you were settled, you returned to your work massages his chest. Konrad let a sigh from his nose as he relaxed into the pillow and closed his eyes, placing his hands on each of your thighs. A slow pattern emerged as you work the muscles in his chest and on his sides, the warm oil allowing your hands to glide effortlessly across his skin. At this angle you were able to drink more of him in. More evidence of past wars sprinkled across his skin, some larger and darker from times that would have surely killed him if he were a mortal man. But he was not a mortal man, he was Konrad Curze the Primarch of the VIIIth legion. He was the Night Haunter from Nostramo. He was a weapon against the xenos and the heretics that threatened the Imperium of Man. He was yours.

Lost in your adoration for this man beneath you, the feeling of Konrad gently squeezing your thighs brought your mind back to the present. His eyes were still closed as you tended to him, if you didn’t know better you would have assumed he was asleep if not for the steady rising of his hands up your thighs. Deciding to play this game he was starting; you slowly brought your hands back to his pecs and flicked your thumbs across both of his nipples. He inhaled sharply through his nose but kept his eyes closed, his grip on your thighs tightening. Repeating the motion one more time, you felt his thumbs make their way to your crotch, applying gentle pressure at the fat just under the clothes you wore. You began to play with his nipples, rolling them between your thumb and forefinger, watching his face for any change. His jaw clenched as his breathing deepened, still keeping his eyes closed as if to focus on your hands.

Leaning forward you take one of his nipples in your mouth, lovingly taking it between your teeth to suckle at it as you pulled on the other with your hand. A groan vibrating through his body hitting you right in your aching cunt again causing you to involuntarily grind against his stomach. Catching this moment, Konrad moved his hands to the top of your thighs forcing your body to grind against him. The friction and pressure was delicious against you, a moan pouring from your mouth and against his chest.

In one quick motion, Konrad grabbed your chin and brought your mouth up to his, desperate to taste you. You grant him entry into your mouth, feeling his tongue fight for space against yours, licking every inch of your warm mouth. Putting his hand back on your thigh, he started to grope your ass as he continued to grind you against him. You brought your hands up to the base of his neck, it was much too large for you to do any damage but you both loved the attempt of taking power from him. You tightened your hands around his neck, earning a growl into your mouth as you did so. You could feel his core tighten up with his desperate thrusts up with his hips.

A sudden slap on your ass ripped a yelp from your throat that turned into a needy moan as the sudden pain melted into a pleasurable ache. Running your hands up his neck and into his hair, you pull his head up and to the side giving you full access to his pretty throat. Pulling away from the kiss you lick and nip your way down, savoring the flavor of his sweat mixing with the oil you had massaged into the skin. The pulse from his twin hearts slamming through his veins as you followed them with your tender kisses. Konrad shamelessly let out a moan at your loving attention as you left sweet love marks of bruises mixed with your teeth on his skin.

It was a decadent treat when you were allowed to take control and worship his body. Leaving reminders of your love and devotion across his skin for all to see. He was yours and you were his and while all knew not to touch you just by the mere knowledge that you were Konrad’s, you always felt the need to stake your claim on him. To show to the universe that you and you alone were granted access to him in his most vulnerable and animalistic state.

The sound of ripping fabric and cool air kissing your ass brought you back from your thoughts of needing to mark the ethereal creature between your legs. You could feel the spot of wetness you had made against him and now with the loss of any barrier you could relish in the feeling of your cunt slide against him. Konrad gently pushed you away from his neck. You were blessed with the sight of his abused lips and neck, tightening the hot coil in your core. You could never get tired of this sight of his swollen lips and bruised neck. Konrad looked up at you, want clear in his eyes, as he brought his hand up to your shirt.

You leaned back with your hands bracing behind you, as you both maintained eye contact as he slowly ripped your shirt the rest of the way open. Throwing the shredded scraps away to join wherever he threw the pieces of your pants. Like a man worshiping, he ran his large rough hands up and down your sides, needing to feel every inch of you. Bringing his hands to squeeze as the soft fat of your waist and belly, you knew he was imagining you full and pregnant with his sons. You knew because it was the same thing you always thought of when he played with your belly.

Running his hands back up your body, he cupped your breasts in his hands and groped them roughly. You pushed your chest into his hands, letting your head fall back as you melted into his touch. His rough palms scratching deliciously against your hard nipples adding to the wonderful sensations. Konrad sat up then, paying back the attention you gave to him and took your nipple into his mouth. Sucking, biting, and pulling it as if he were a suckling babe trying to draw milk from you, you brought your hands up to hold his head against your breast. Forcing him to stay there as you went back to humping against him, covering him in your arousal.

You knew you were being loud; the walls may be made of metal, but they could have been made of paper with how they allowed your moans echo through the halls of the ship. In a frustrated moment, Konrad ripped his own pants off, freeing his hard and leaking cock. You could feel it bump against your ass as he tried but failed to keep from humping the air. Shoving your hands back into his hair, you took fistfuls in each hand and pulled him away from your nipple, a salacious pop echoing around the room.

You kissed him lovingly this time, melting against his as your arms wrapped around his neck as Konrad wrapped his around your middle. You both stayed like that for some time, tasting each other, feeling your bodies molding against each other. You were in love, and you made sure that with every swipe of your tongue, every kiss, every breathy moan, you showed him. Slowly, Konrad leaned back into the bed, never breaking your kiss.

After a few more loving kisses, you pulled yourself away, a needy whine from Konrad chasing you. “My love. My moon and my stars. No other in the galaxy could ever match the fire in my heart that burns for you,” a blush spreading from his cheeks down to his chest. You moved yourself down his body, lifting yourself over his aching heat. “I had dreamt of the day that I would hold a man like you in my arms,” you positioned his length against your equally aching hole, “and now, I have you.” Konrad threw one of his arms over his eyes, he was never good at taking your compliments and adoration. “My love, please, I want to see you,” you slowly rubbed his tip against your opening, not wanting to take him just yet.

After what felt like eons, Konrad removed his arm and looked at you through eyelashes. The blush tickling his ears, giving him a youthful glow. Once you knew you had his whole attention you began to sink down his length. “I love you,” you breathed out as you felt yourself stretch around him, fighting to keep your eyes from closing as you did. Konrad’s jaw fell open as he moaned, watching you slowly take him in inch by inch. You could feel his heat inside of you and you chased that feeling. You filled yourself full of him, needing him deep within you. Just as it seemed that you could take no more, your body kissed his. The feeling of being this stretched and this full shook you to your core.

Konrad, finally able to move again, brought his hands made to your hips. Lovingly rubbing little circles against your skin with his thumbs. A softness crossed his face and filled his dark eyes, “I love you more.” A needy whine ripped from your throat as you let his words sink into you, filling you up in a way that carnal pleasures never could. Slowly, painfully slowly, you raised yourself up, feeling each bump and vein. You pulled yourself up just enough to feel the ridge of his cock head reach the opening of your dripping cunt and stayed there a moment too long for Konrad’s apparent liking.

Tightening his grips around your hips, enough so that you knew you would have beautiful bruises in the shape of his hands, he forced you back down on him, snapping his hips up to meet your halfway. The sudden fullness had you seeing stars. You relinquished your play on power and let Konrad take back control. He roughly began to fuck into you, desperate to feel more of your wet heat wrap around him. Each forceful push of his hips knocked the breath out of you, causing your moans to have obvious little breaks in time with his thrusts.

Your first orgasm blew through you, Konrad’s rough pace sending you well over the edge. You could feel yourself tighten around him, trying to pull him in and keep him there inside of you forever. You knew he could feel it too from the way he pulled you back down and held you there with a hiss, trying to keep you from moving too much on him to keep himself from cumming too soon.

He let you come down from your high, rubbing your thighs and your hips and belly. Once you caught your breath, you leaned back bracing your hands on his strong legs. You started to fuck yourself on his cock again, wanting to chase your orgasm with another one. Like this you, Konrad hit just you in the right place deep inside of you. Looking at Konrad, you noticed that all he was focused on was watching your wet cunt swallow his cock whole. The realization of him watching you so shamelessly fucking yourself on him scrambled your brain once again, throwing your head back with a load moan. You could feel Konrad’s legs tense under your hands and his cock feeling like it was getting ever so slightly harder. He was close and you were right there with him.

“Konrad! AH- please! So close!” was all you could get out, but your love understood you without question. Resting one large hand on your lower belly, he started to rub tight and fast circles on your clit with his thumb. Your moans bordering on screams with the added stimulation. Konrad’s desperate grunts filling your ears, “I love you. FUCK I love you so much. SO good. Mine. All mine.” You came a second time, harder with his confession of love for you. Slamming your hips down on him one more time to grind against him to bring him over the edge with you, Konrad roared as he filled you with his seed. The warmth of it sending you straight into another orgasm. You could feel yourself bulge a little from the sheer amount of cum filling inside you.

Konrad kept his hand on your lower belly feeling it slightly swell and you brought your hand to rest it on top of his. The sight of you holding his hand against you as if you were heavy with his child, milked him of the last drop of cum in his body and his he was trying to make this vision a reality.

You two stayed like that for a moment, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes in your shared post orgasmic bliss. Feeling the exhaustion finally hit your bones, you fell forward into Konrad’s chest. Listening to his twin hearts just underneath try to settle. “My love, the sun in my sky,” Konrad murmured into the top of your head as he ran a hand up and down your back. You hummed back, too tired to even speak. You felt Konrad gently pulling himself out of you, the emptiness causing you to whine. “Shh my sweet. I must clean our mess,” was all you heard before you felt him pick you up and carry you to the adjoining bath.

Konrad quickly washed you both off, being careful around your abused hole to try not to overstimulate you. Once done he wrapped you in one of his plush towels. It was so big it almost swallowed you whole. Picking you back up he brought you back to your shared bed, now with clean sheets. A serf must have been waiting for the end to change them, that thought sent a blush from ear to ear. Thankful for the towel engulfing you because you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it from Konrad teasing you.

Once in bed, Konrad arranged you both so that he curled around you, his head resting on your chest, sighing as he listened to your heartrate slowly readying for sleep. Humming, you brought your arms around him to hold his head closer. The only sound in the room was your breathing. Floating into sleep, warmed by his body around yours, the last thing you heard before falling completely was something so soft you couldn’t tell if it was for you or just the start of a dream, “My greatest treasure, my happiest moment. I love you forever and always.”

#one for the bookshelf #warhammer fanfic #wh40k fic #night lords #konrad curze #konrad curze x reader #konrad/reader #my work #wh40k smut #Wh40k fluff #night haunter #this man deserves to have his body worshipped #and i will be his most devout follower #ao3 fanfic

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harrygoeswest · 1 year ago

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Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Hiiiiii! I think I announced this like 3 months ago and never finished it, but we're finally here! I actually really fucking love this story. I've never done this 'one bed' trope before, nor an enemies-to-lovers OU, because EVERYONE loves H man, right? Well, not this YN. And he's not too fond of her either. I'm really excited to share it with you. Again, what started as a one shot grew into a two-parter because I simply cannot contain myself when the ball starts rolling. Anyhoo, to my forever friend @all-things-fic, thank you as always for reading this through and making me snort at your comments and being the ultimate validator <3

Word Count: 13,261 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), vomiting, bed-sharing with a sexy man

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Rain. Persistent, unabated, never-ending, relentless rain. It was all you’d heard and seen all day and you were sick of it. You’d never really minded it until today, but thanks to one shit-show after another, you were ready to relinquish it. You wanted it gone. Your summer holiday was already off to a bad start.

“Bad day?”

Where to begin?

A cabin in the Scottish Highlands had sounded like the perfect escape for a four-week break away from the city. You had work to do, deadlines to meet, but at least you could do it without being interrupted. Without the sounds of pedestrians and car horns and wayward seagulls and bike bells. Yep, the Highlands still sounded perfect, but the endless string of catastrophes made you wonder if it really was perfect or rather just a ridiculous indulgence.

No. You deserved this break. Bad day or not, the holiday was needed.

When your brother had told you a year ago that he’d bought a holiday home in the Highlands you hadn’t exactly been surprised. He and his wife had been talking about it for years, and he’d finally earned enough money through his music career to be able to do it. Sadly, with your own deadlines and packed schedule, this was the first time in said year you’d been able to find time to go.

Apparently the all-knowing entity in your life had other plans.

You were supposed to come by plane first thing this morning, but your car had broken down on the way to the airport and you spent 3 hours waiting for the AA to rescue you. You had then managed to rearrange your flight to a later one, but because of the weather, all other flights out of Bristol had been cancelled for the day. You then spent a ridiculous amount of money on a 10 hour train from Bristol to Inverness with a change at Edinburgh in between, and were now forking out on a taxi to take you the rest of the way.

At that particular point in time, a cabin in the middle of nowhere seemed like a dreadful fucking idea.

“Could say that.” You managed weakly.

The driver chuckled to himself and you tried not to squeal. “Nearly there now. Fifteen minutes or so.”

There is a God!

Forty-five minutes later he finally stopped in the middle of a single track road. Your eyelid had been twitching for half that time, and a headache was forming in your left temple.

He turned over his shoulder and flashed a grin. He was missing an incisor and three of his other teeth were gold. “This is as far as I can get you. Cabin is at the top of that hill.”

You gave him a look, then peered out the window. All you could see was rain and mud and a black night. “What hill?”

“You’ll find it. Fare is sixty.”

“Sixty quid?”

He nodded. “Scottish if you’ve got ‘em. I’m a collector.”

“We agreed on forty. And no, I don’t have any bloody Scottish notes.” A Scottish man collecting Scottish money! On what planet?!

“No, sixty.”

You muttered expletives under your breath and shoved the money at him over his shoulder.

“Y’alright gettin’ your own case, love? Don’t really want t’ get wet.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

In the shittiest, snappiest manner you could muster, you got out of the car and retrieved your luggage from the boot, slamming every door you touched. The driver immediately pulled off once the boot was closed, pipping his horn.

“Wanker!” You yelled after him.

Finding your bearings, you located the ‘hill’ he’d been talking about, forcing down your frustration at the size of the damn thing as you started up the pathway. You dragged your suitcase behind you through the mud, grateful it had a hard and waterproof plastic exterior. At least after all this you’d be able to take a shower and change into clean clothes.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to reach the cabin, thanks to not only the rain but also the brutal wind. When you finally reached the porch you fell onto it, greeted by the most intense relief you’d ever felt. You took a minute to recover from your exercise, and then fumbled around on the dark porch for the stone your brother had left the key under.

“Aha.” Delighted when you found it, you pulled the key out of the rock and shoved it in the door, unlocking it.

Heat floated over your body, as did warm, homey light. Weird. Why were the lights on?

Then did your eyes land on the thing that was most definitely out of place.��

A loud, shrill scream ripped from your body.

A man was in the cabin. A naked man. Mostly. The only thing saving him and you was the towel wrapped around his waist. Shiny back, muscly arms, damp neck, wet hair. At the sound of your wail he turned around, equally as alarmed.

“What the-?”

In his panic, the grip he had on his towel slipped, and you were given more of an eyeful than you ever bargained for.

You screamed again and reached for the closest thing to you, then lurched it across the room at him. Then your brain caught up with you, and you pulled the door closed again, separating you from him. You were back outside in the cold.

That man wasn’t just anyone. He’d never been just anyone. He was your sister-in-law’s friend. He was your brother’s boss, to a degree. He was your worst fucking nightmare rolled into physical human form.

He was Harry fucking Styles.

This was officially the worst day of your life.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You repeated, over and over again as you paced the porch, head in your hands. You knocked into your suitcase multiple times and it ended up falling down the porch steps into a muddy puddle. You tripped over a loose piece of decking at least twice. You caught your hip on the porch bannister, too. But none of it registered with you while your brain cycled between images of Harry’s naked back and his large appendage.

How could this be happening? What had you done to deserve such a catastrophic start to your holiday? You couldn’t stay here. Not with that man. That man that you hated, and who hated you in return. This was a disaster.

You dug your phone out of your sopping handbag. No signal.

“Oh, come on.” You hissed.

Stubborn as always, you tried to call your brother anyway. Repeatedly. Twenty times, at least, each one failing to connect. You couldn’t even leave a voicemail. You raised the phone to the sky like it was baby Simba. Still nothing.

“Fuck!”

The door swung open, and Harry said your name in a low grunt.

You swivelled, glare like a dagger. “You. Why the fuck are you here?”

“Why am I here?” He scoffed. He was clothed now, in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. “Why are you here?”

“This is my brother’s cabin! I have a key! He said I could stay here!”

“Well, guess what?” He leaned forward, arms crossed. “Holly said I could stay here, too.”

You wanted to throw your phone at his stupid face. “Fucking great.”

“There’s obviously been some misunderstanding.” He straightened.

“You don’t say…”

His gaze narrowed. “You’re impossible.”

“At least I’m not the one who’s stupid enough to state the obvious.”

You turned away again and tried your brother one more time. The beep beep beep that told you the call had failed yet again had your stomach in knots.

“There’s no phone signal here.”

“Yes, thank you. Just go back inside.”

“No.”

“For the love of Christ, why not?”

“I’d rather see what you’re going to do with yourself.”

You turned another glare on him. “Oh, I’m so glad that the shitty situation I’ve found myself in is entertaining you, Harry. Please, mock me some more. The resulting anger might actually take the chill out of my fucking toes.”

He looked like he was about to open his mouth, but you didn’t let him.

“You know, this really has been the day from hell. It’s been a categorical disaster from start to finish, and finally getting myself here only to find you, of all people, really is the cherry on top of my whopping slice of shit pie. So please, do me this one favour, and sod off back inside.”

His jaw ticked, and he emitted a low growl before he slammed the door of the cabin and left you in the cold, wet night.

A sob wracked through you, and you flopped down on the top step just to let your body deflate for five minutes. It was so cold you were shivering. Your clothes clung to your body like sheets of ice, your lips were cracked, and a bite ate away at your toes.

You knew you couldn’t do much tonight. You’d have to wait until tomorrow, for when the storm hopefully passed, and you could call your brother to give him a gobful and then walk into the village to find a B&B or cheap hotel. You hadn’t forgotten that your train ticket was a set day return for four weeks’ time. You’d just have to wait until Harry was gone before you took your time to enjoy the cabin like you’d planned.

When you finally calmed down you dragged your suitcase out of the mud and dropped it on the driest part of the deck. You dug around for the jumper you’d brought with you and pulled it over your frozen torso. You also took your shoes and socks off and put two clean pairs on. Once you were wrapped back up in your coat, you settled on the armchair that was the least wet and tried to go to sleep.

After five minutes or so, the cabin door creaked open again.

“Come inside, please.” Harry’s voice was void of any emotion.

“No.”

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here.”

“Rather that than share a bed with you.”

“And you think I want to share a bed with you, either?”

“Then we’re both on the same page. I’m fine out here.”

“You are not fuckin’ fine out here. It’s shitting it down, for fuck’s sake, you could get a flu. Or worse.”

You hadn’t opened your eyes so you had no idea what his facial expression read. “I’m surprised you give a shit enough to care.”

“I don’t particularly, but I like your brother and I don’t want him thinking I didn’t at least try to get you to be sensible when it’s fucking biblical outside.”

“I’ll pass.”

Harry took a deep breath, and he muttered, “Bloody insufferable woman,” before he slammed the door again.

You snuggled further into the chair, shoving your hands under your face. You thought that would be the end of it, but no more than thirty seconds later the door swung back open. You pretended to ignore him, expecting a verbal taunt. Instead, all you got was scuffing noises.

Pushing down the urge to growl like he did at you, you squeezed your eyes shut and faked indifference at his huffy grunting. Until he dragged you out of the chair and hauled you into the cabin in three easy movements.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, scowling at him as he locked the door behind you.

“You can be as stubborn and petty as you like about this, but you are not staying outside in the rain. End of story.”

“I was fine!”

“You were not fine.” He folded his arms again. “Look at you, for fuck’s sake. You’re about five seconds away from catching hypothermia. You think I want that on my hands? You, of all people, needing my attention every day for the next five weeks? I don’t, by the way. I came here for a holiday, too.”

“I didn’t bring myself here to be a God damn burden to you, Harry. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why don’t you go and get in the shower, and maybe you’ll calm the fuck down.”

You inched closer to him. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Me, following your orders like some sycophant.”

He took a step closer to me. “I would, actually. It might make you somewhat tolerable.”

“Get fucked, Harry.”

“Sounds like you need that more than I do.”

You produced a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeal, and shoved at his chest once before you stalked away. “Prick.”

He hummed, entertained. “Try not to think about mine while you’re in there. I’m sure the sight of it has left you with enough to be desired.”

Too tired to argue with him anymore, you threw your middle finger at him over your shoulder.

Whether you’d been forced inside against your will or not, you really did want a shower before a permanent chill settled over you. You turned the water on and let it run hot. The second it swilled over your body you let out a helpless moan.

You stood stoic underneath it for an indeterminate amount of time, just willing your body to warm up. The day washed away from you, worries temporarily forgotten while you soaked up as much heat as you could. Oh, it was glorious. A shower had never been so rewarding.

After a while you realised you didn’t have any of your shower stuff with you, still locked in your suitcase, and you let out a huff. You surveyed what Harry had brought with him and spent too long debating whether it was socially acceptable to wash using your mortal enemy’s shower gel. You decided against it and would properly wash in the morning.

Taking another ten minutes, you decided you were ready to face Harry again and whatever bollocks he might throw your way. You found a towel and gave your hair a dry, then wrapped it around your body. You hadn’t thought this through in your desperation to get away from him.

You stepped out of the room with purpose and marched over to where Harry had abandoned your suitcase after dragging it inside earlier, and carefully picked your way through it to find your pyjamas and toothbrush. Without giving the man even the slightest glance, you locked yourself back up in the bathroom to change and clean your teeth.

“Forget your clothes?” Harry asked at your second reappearance.

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?” You gave a roll of your eyes.

He sat straighter in the armchair he was settled into, “Why answer a question with another question?”

You ignored him. Instead you gave yourself the opportunity to actually take in your brother’s second home. You realised it was tiny. Like Tiny Home tiny. When he said he’d bought a cabin you thought he meant something like a chalet. But no, this was small. A kitchenette had been built into the right-hand wall by the front door with a fridge, a two-plate hob and a stainless steel sink. Two armchairs sat either side of a small birch table, and a double bed at the back of the room with a cherrywood wardrobe. A woven rug gave the space a homey feel, balancing the bare oak that gave foundation for the rest of the place.

A sinking feeling buried in you when you realised there wasn’t a sofa.

You rubbed a hand into your cheek, feeling slightly cheated by your brother and his wife.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Harry said into the quiet, all malice and jest lost.

“I feel like it.” You admitted, turning your stare on the bed. “I’m just tired.”

He cleared his throat and stood. “I sleep on the left.”

You refrained from giving him another eye roll and instead focussed on settling down. You left your phone on the dining table, plugged in to charge overnight, poured a glass of water which you drank in one long swig, and then returned to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

Harry had settled on the left side of the bed but with his head at the foot and his feet at the top. If he slept on the left, did that not completely defeat the purpose of his claim?

“Top and tail.”

“Yeah, no. Absolutely not.” You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I am not giving you the opportunity to stick your foot in my face at any given point in the night.”

He kissed his teeth and sat up with a scowl. “Woman, you have got some major fuckin’ trust issues.”

“With you I do, absolutely.”

You waited until he was in bed the right way up before you slipped in yourself and turned the light off. The room was cast in darkness and your eyes struggled to adjust. You faced away from Harry on your side, wriggling to find a comfortable position, and you could hear him doing the same.

His foot was definitely on your side of the bed so you kicked it away. He then tried to take the covers off you, but you were quick to snatch them back. He let out a deep sigh.

“Can I have some of the quilt, please?”

“You’ve got some.”

“I have none.”

“Bullshit.”

He ripped the covers away again, and you fought the urge to squeal.

“Give some back.”

“You have some.” He said in the same tone you had.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“I’m cold.”

“You’ve just spent an hour using up all the hot water so I refuse to believe that.”

“What is your problem?”

“You are.”

You grit your teeth. Folding your arms, you scooted as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off. Arguing with him was fruitless, it just left you angry and wired.

Tomorrow, you resolved to find somewhere, anywhere else to stay. For now, you’d try to sleep uncomfortable and coverless.

Had you slept?

No.

For hours you’d imprisoned yourself on the edge of the bed, cold and coverless, hugging yourself in an attempt to keep warm, and squeezing your eyes closed just praying that sleep would come. But it never did. You’d think after the day you had yesterday it would be easy to just drop off. Why would it be that simple for you?

You knew it was light outside now thanks to the inside of your eyelids. You decided then to give up. Sleep wasn’t coming.

As you opened your eyes you realised how close to the edge of the bed you were. At the same time, Harry wriggled again, further onto your side of the mattress, and his knee nudged your backside.

Oh no.

Struggling to find anything to hold onto, your body tumbled over the edge. A panicked yelp tore out of you, followed by a grunt and a thud when you hit the floor.

“Ow.” You whimpered. You’d fallen on your front, knee and toe first followed by your head. You rolled onto your back and held onto your forehead as if it might stop the pounding you felt.

Laughter started, and your eyes flew open to find Harry hovering over the side of the bed, green eyes shining. You were, actually, somewhat offended by how entertained he was. If it was acceptable to hit people, you’d be hitting him.

“You alright down there?”

“No I’m not fucking alright, Harry.”

Your own anger made the throbbing in your head worse so you stayed on your back.

“Alright, was only a question.”

“This is your bloody fault - you’re a bed hogger!”

“Yeah? Well you snore!”

“Considering I didn’t get a single second of sleep last night I don’t know how you’ve landed on that conclusion, and I can only assume you’ve made it up to piss me off.”

“You were snoring.” He said in a flat voice.

“No I wasn’t.”

The throbbing got worse again, so you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then another.

“You’ve hit your head.”

If the thought of rolling your eyes didn’t make you nauseous you’d absolutely do it. “If there was an award for Best Observationist, you’d win it.”

“Do you need ice or something?”

His voice had changed and it somewhat startled you. You peeled an eye open again to find he hadn’t moved - he was still hanging over the bed. His expression, however, was neutral.

“Yes. Please.”

He gave a curt nod and then disappeared. You closed your eyes again, willing the throbbing away.

“There isn’t any ice.”

You refrained from screaming, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. “Okay.”

“Here,” his voice was much closer, and he gave a little pat to your knee, “this might help.”

Peeling an eye open, he flashed a couple of boxes of painkillers. “Panadol.” Of course the man had branded paracetamol. The 95p boxes of Sainsbury’s own shoved in your kitchen cupboard looked shameful right about now.

“Extra strength. And that rapid relief ibuprofen.”

“You brought painkillers with you on holiday?”

He shrugged. “I’m here for a long time. Hangovers need encouragement to get fucked.”

You raised a sceptic brow. “And here I thought some magical mystery Nutri-Bullet recipe would be your saviour.”

“Funny.” He muttered.

Huh. How unlike him not to shove a witty rebuttal at you.

“Do you need help getting up or are you just gonna sit on the floor all day?”

Your scowl returned. “I’m fine.”

On shaky legs and with a fuzzy head, you grabbed the side of the bed and hauled yourself up. You weren’t sure if the sudden ringing in your ears was something you should be worried about, but you persisted.

Once sat, Harry handed you the tablet boxes and fetched a glass of water for you while you thumbed out two of each.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Please and thank you in the space of ten minutes?” He goaded. “Sounds like you’ve got a concussion.”

“My parents didn’t raise me in a barn.”

He stood with his broad arms folded across his chest while he watched you swallow down four tablets, face a mishmash of irritation and something else. You refused to believe it was concern so you attributed it to frustration. You were just ruining his holiday the same way he was ruining yours.

You decided to finish the water, and then Harry took the boxes and the glass from you. You laid back down, shielding the room and your eyes with your arms.

“Sure you don’t need a hospital?” His voice was far away.

“Yes. I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t answer, and you were thankful. Any more talking and your head might have exploded.

You’d fallen asleep. While you hadn’t intended to, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the respite. There was no way you would’ve been able to do anything on zero hours sleep, so a few was better than nothing.

You sat up, noticing that you’d corrected yourself direction-wise on the bed and pulled the covers over you. You must’ve done it subconsciously.

The cabin was quiet. Almost eerily so. There was no sign of Harry anywhere. The only sign that he’d been there at all was his own suitcase tucked away in the corner. No sound came from the bathroom, and all you could hear outside was birds.

Birds. Not rain.

You scrambled out of bed towards the front door and hauled it open, but it was locked. Harry had locked you in. You found the key your brother had left for you on the table and put it to use.

It was glorious outside. Not a cloud in the sky, blue everywhere, green even more so. And it was warm. Summer dress warm. Your feet itched to go outside, but you knew you needed to take it easy. The headache hadn’t completely subsided, but it was tolerable. Barely there. A shower and some food would fix it.

You closed the door and locked it again, determined to start your day. Steadily.

You were about to head straight for the shower when you noticed it. A brown paper bag trapped under a pretty mug, and a jar of instant coffee wedged inside it. The mug lived here - you recognised it from Holly’s old flat. But the greasy brown bag did not. You noticed the letters GF scrawled on the front.

He remembered.

Warning bells started screaming inside your head as you plucked the bag out and opened it up. The smell of cooled buttery pastry wafted from inside, and you pulled out the biggest croissant you’d ever seen.

The message was clear as day. Eat and get some caffeine in you.

This was bad. Angry Harry you could deal with any day of the week at any time of day. You could even cope with jester Harry, because you gave just as good as you got. But this? Base-level concern? It threw you for a loop.

Regardless, you were starving. So you boiled the kettle and made your coffee just how you like it as you tore off pieces of pastry and gobbled it down. While you waited for your coffee to cool once your croissant was demolished, you took a quick shower.

Half an hour later you were out the door and feeling a hell of a lot better than you had done for weeks. You wandered down into the village, the sun a glowing comfort on your bare skin.

You had a mission today: alternative accommodation.

You kept an eye on your phone for patches of signal, and called your brother whenever you found some. He never answered. Part of you wondered if he was ignoring you, and if that was the case you were going to have a very big problem. He only ignored you if he was avoiding you.

And that wasn’t even your biggest problem.

“I’m sorry, we’re full.” The receptionist at the final B&B said with barely an ounce of emotion.

“The sign outside said you had vacancies.”

“I just sold the last one over the phone. Haven’t had time to change it.” She gave me a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

You fought a petulant sigh. “Do you know where else I can stay? I’ve tried every B&B here and no one has any vacancies.”

“Why don’t you try an AirBnB.” She suggested with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “You young people seem to love those.”

Ah, so this was a territorial issue. You gave her a flat glare and left without another word.

Yet again, you found yourself in a rut. Your good mood had been successfully wiped away. Maybe you would check AirBnB, but the thought of spending another obscene amount on accommodation filled you with a sickly feeling.

Your phone started ringing, much to your surprise. Holly. “Is my brother ignoring me?”

“I don’t know, but if he was, he probably wouldn’t tell me.” She laughed, always a fan of your no-nonsense approach. “I thought I’d call since I haven’t heard from you. Did you make it there alive?”

“Alive is not the word I’d use to describe my current state. It’s also impossible to call someone when the phone signal is worse than a World War II air raid shelter.”

Holly cackled. “You’re such a nerd. What’s wrong?”

“Either you’re playing dumb to avoid my wrath or you’re very stupid.”

She gasped your name but she was most definitely entertained. “What do you mean?”

“Harry is here. Using your holiday home.”

An extended period of silence followed, completed with a breathy, “Oh… shit.”

Oh shit, indeed.

“Well,” she seemed to shake herself, “it can’t be that bad.”

This one was truly off her rocker. “Can’t be that bad? Holly, how many times have you been in a room with me and Harry at the same time?”

“Plenty.”

“Exactly. How many times have we had a fight whilst in said same room together?”

“Almost always.”

“Not almost always, just always. We. Do. Not. Get. On.”

“Oh, babe, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”

“There’s only one fucking bed!”

Holly went quiet for a minute, and you realised you’d earned the attention of a few passers by. You sat down on a nearby bench, wary of the throb in your head getting worse.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked.

That set you off. You launched into your shitty day from yesterday, from the car breakdown to the taxi driver to hitting your head this morning. Words without breath had never left you so fast and the feeling you were rewarded with after was less than satisfactory. Deflation. Sadness.

“Oh, hun, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going.” You were certain she was lying about that last sentence but you didn’t interrupt her. “I’ll get in touch with Harry and tell him to rein it in.”

“I don’t need you to curb the man on my behalf, Hol. I can handle him myself. I just… I really wish he wasn’t here.”

“Do you want me to make him leave?”

A rare sight of guilt crept its way into the centre of your stomach. You battled the urge to say yes, because you knew if Holly asked him to, he would absolutely go. “No… hardly fair. He was here first.”

“Yeah but I bet you would’ve been if all those things didn’t go wrong yesterday.”

You grunted. You were supposed to arrive just before 9am yesterday morning, not close to 11pm. “Don’t make him leave. I’m a bitch but I’m not a complete cunt.”

“You’re not either of those things by any stretch. My friend just happens to know how to really rattle your cage.”

Ain’t that the truth. “I’m trying to find a B&B or something but they’re all full.”

“Oh, please don’t spend more money.”

“I can’t stay in your cabin, Hol. I didn’t sleep last night and that man does not know how to share a queen bed.”

“It’s actually a three-quarter bed.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned.

“Look, we wanted it to be as spacious as possible there. We didn’t anticipate two people who claim to hate each other having to share it. It’s for cuddling.”

That urge to smack someone reared its ugly head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She laughed from the back of her throat, and as irritated as you were it did make you smile. “Take a long walk, babe. If you’re in the village there’s a great ice cream place near the church that’ll make you forget all about He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can say Harry, for fuck’s sake.”

She screamed as if she’d been burned, teasing you.

“Shut up.” You actually managed to laugh. “Fine. I’ll go find some ice cream. But if they’ve got WiFi I will absolutely be looking for an AirBnB.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

“Do me a favour and tell my brother to stop being a wuss.”

“Oh, come on, you know he can’t handle your wrath. You can tell him yourself, anyway.”

You started looking around to see if they’d actually come up and were just loitering nearby to piss you off.

“What?”

“We were going to surprise you but I think you might murder us if we did. We’re on our way to you. My Nanna will be coming, too - we’ve got a table booked at the pub in the village.”

Unbelievable. “You little minx.”

One of the reasons Holly and your brother bought a holiday home in Scotland was to be able to spend more time with Holly’s family. While she grew up in London and has never left it, her mum’s side of the family are all in Scotland.

Holly giggled, obviously delighted with herself. “Sorry. We’re set to arrive in about two hours.”

“But where are you staying?”

“My Nan’s house.”

“Not got a spare room, has she?” You mumbled.

“I know you don’t mean that, but she doesn’t. We’re staying on her pullout.”

“Damn.”

“We’re gonna go straight there and then come to you afterwards, alright?”

You took a deep breath and stood up from your bench. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”

“Byeee!”

You were already making a beeline for the ice cream shop by the time she put the phone down.

It was a cute little parlour, like something straight out of a movie. Retro tiles covered the walls and floor in pinks and yellows, two long display freezers to the left full to the brim with every single flavour one could ever imagine. Tables spread across the right and spilled onto the street, and booths in the corner each had a miniature jukebox on top.

“How can I help you?” A man behind the counter asked, dressed in a full uniform complete with the little hat.

“Hi, um,” you gave him the best smile you could, even if you were overwhelmed, “do you have any gluten free cones?”

“Sure,” he gestured to the stand on the top with a variety of cones, from small to ridiculously large in size, “just this one.”

The cone in question was the most pathetic-looking of them all. You did your absolute best to hide your disappointment. “Great, then I’ll have one of those. Chocolate, please.”

“Which type?” He lifted a brow.

You realised then that there were about ten different chocolate flavours. “Er… which is the best one in your opinion?”

That perked him up. He spent the next five minutes listing off reasons why the chocolate and hazelnut flavour was his most popular of all his options.

“I guess that’s the one I want, then.” You forced another smile.

“Coming right up.”

Something made you shiver, but it wasn’t a gust of wind or the freezers you stood by.

“At least try and act like you’re excited about it.” A deep voice murmured, far too close to your ear for your liking.

You practically hissed and took a very purposeful step away. “Jesus, Harry.”

He laughed, but the sound wasn’t spiteful like it usually would be. “Only you could make ice cream seem rubbish.”

“I don’t think ice cream is rubbish,” Was your only retort. You just wished gluten free cones didn’t look so fucking sad.

The owner handed you your cone and you paid him in cash. “Do you have WiFi in here?”

“Sure. Password’s on the wall up there.” He pointed at a laminated sign, and then turned his attention to Harry. “Hey, aren’t you that guy?”

Your cue to leave.

While Harry had an awkward conversation with the parlour owner about which guy he was, you connected to the internet and took a seat on the patio outside with your back to the sun. A satisfied hum left you at the warmth on your skin. You concentrated on demolishing your ice cream before you made a mess of yourself.

Unfortunately, Harry decided today wasn’t the day he was going to leave you alone. He sat down opposite you with a three-flavour cone, the colours unsettlingly unnatural. He looked uncomfortable, and this time it wasn’t because of you.

“What on Earth is that?”

“This is a masterpiece.” At least he could still behave like an idiot even when he’d been ‘spotted’.

“It looks disgusting.”

You watched him with a deep-seated discomfort as he shamelessly licked around his cone. Unfiltered moans came out of his mouth, but you were certain he was acting up for your benefit.

“What flavours are they?” You just had to ask.

“Mint chocolate, bubblegum and ginger.”

“Ginger?” You almost choked on a hazelnut. “Sir, you have a serious problem.”

He laughed again, that same obnoxiously easy sound as before. “Did you just call me sir?”

“I did and I immediately regret it.”

He made a noise, an amused squeak of sorts. “Why did you look so horrified by yours, anyway?”

You shifted in your chair, having just popped the end of the cone in your mouth. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the owner wasn’t listening, pleased to find him distracted by a large family. “The gluten free options for cones was utter shite.”

“How so?”

“Well, he only had one type, and it was poxy as shit.”

He snorted. “I thought it looked small. I don’t imagine it being a lot of fun.”

You were immediately reminded of the croissant he’d picked up for you. You knew that you needed to say thank you, even if it did feel like taking a punch in the gut. “Thank you for the pastry.”

He paused mid-lick as if you’d just spoken a foreign language. He looked ridiculous and almost child-like, green eyes wide and pupils so narrow thanks to the sun they were barely visible. He rescued a drip before he made a mess. “Welcome. How is your…” he tapped his temple.

“Yeah, better.”

“Good.”

You returned to silence, and you got busy looking for a new place to stay. The options were… lacking. You knew the decision to go away during the school holidays would be a silly one anyway, but you wanted the heat. You wanted a summer holiday. Not a cold and wet one. But at such late notice in an area with limited options to begin with, all that was really left were large houses for groups of ten or places miles and miles away that would cost yet more money to travel to. The only other thing you could think of was buying a tent and pitching up on a nearby campsite, but you fucking hated tents and camping.

As time wore on and Harry’s ice cream disappeared, you noticed him growing more restless. You glanced up a couple of times to find him with his head down, but you eventually figured out the source of his discomfort. He was shooting looks at something over your shoulder while constantly readjusting his ball cap.

You straightened in your seat and twisted yourself slightly to get a better look.

“Don’t turn around.” He muttered without looking at you.

You frowned. “Why?”

He never gave you an answer so you did it anyway. A couple of tables over someone was doing a very bad job at hiding their phone.

For God’s sake.

“Do you want to swap seats?” You offered.

He gave you a startled look, and admittedly you were surprised at your own suggestion. “No.”

“You sure? The back of your head is way less appealing than the front of it.”

You could see the confusion spread across his face and you wished immediately that you could take your words back. He was too wound up to mention it now, but you knew he definitely would in the future.

“They’ve already got about fifteen minutes worth of pictures, there’s no point moving now.” He huffed and readjusted the hat on his head once more, eyes downcast.

You pursed your lips in thought. After a moment you readjusted your seat so that you were hopefully positioned right in the way. Harry gave you a blank look, eyes still darting to the people behind you.

“Do you want to go?”

“Not particularly.”

You knew what he meant. He shouldn’t have to leave just because other people didn’t know how to behave like normal human beings.

A minute later the table behind you stood and left, so something had at least worked.

“Thank you.” He said it so quietly you nearly missed it. “Your lack of subtlety was almost entertaining.”

You weren’t offended by that. You hadn’t meant to be subtle. “I know we don’t get on but I respect your privacy. You should’ve asked them to delete it.”

“Then it just makes me look like a prick.”

“But you are a prick.”

He broke into another laugh. That laugh that held no malice or spite. The one he’d only debuted today. Then he slid back to stoicism. “I’ll be all over the Daily Mail again tomorrow anyway.”

Something weird happened. Anger materialised in your chest, and it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling in the slightest. What was unusual was that it came on Harry’s behalf. Usually you felt this way because of Harry, not for him.

You cleared your throat. “It’s okay to tell people to fuck off every once in a while, Harry.”

“Not when you’re me, it isn’t.”

“It is when people don’t know how to set boundaries.”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” He readjusted his cap again and sunk further into his seat. “Not the first time I’ve been spotted on holiday.”

“With a mystery woman, no less.”

He snorted. “Sorry in advance.”

“For what?”

“You’re about to become the most interesting person on the planet. I’d privatise your Instagram.”

“It already is. Nor is it very interesting.”

“Just… I don’t know. I know what they’re like.”

“You think I give a shit what a bunch of people on the internet think about me?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Have I ever given a shit what anyone else has thought about me?”

He tipped his head. “No.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s their boundaries I’m worried about.”

“Don’t be. If those pictures do make it anywhere, I’ll have no problem telling the next person to fuck off if it comes to it.”

The smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Then I really hope for their sake that there isn’t a next time.”

You hadn’t left the parlour until you’d come up with a solution to your living arrangement. It took longer than you’d like, but eventually you settled for the only option; in two weeks you’d let Harry have the cabin and move into an AirBnB a few towns over. A bungalow this time with a very big bed. You’d had to fork out a deposit since it was a booking of more than 7 nights, which put another lovely dent in your bank balance. You were really trying not to think about it.

Harry hadn’t passed comment when you told him. He just gave a blank stare and a curt nod, which was very unlike him. When it came to you, he’d never had any problem parting with his opinions.

You’d been ambushed on your way back to the cabin by your brother and Holly. After changing and freshening up you all walked down to the pub together to meet Holly’s Nanna. You had met her at the wedding but only briefly. Your brother and Holly’s special day had been somewhat dampened by the fact that Harry materialised again whenever you forgot about him and ended up drinking yourself into an early bedtime. The next morning you were rewarded with the worst hangover of your entire life.

Nanna was amazing. One of those larger than life women who weren’t afraid to drop the c word a couple of times without so much as batting an eyelid, and using Malibu as an excuse for a good time. You’d been seated on a round table which relieved you to no end. You were sandwiched between Nanna and your brother which meant there was a decent amount of distance between you and Harry.

“I need you to tell me something.” Nanna patted your arm, giving you her full attention.

It was like being addressed by royalty. “Anything.”

“I hear there’s a story about your brother involving nappies and toothpaste. A serial offence. He won’t tell me and Holly conveniently doesn’t know about it.”

You gave your brother a look.

“Please don’t.” He begged.

“But Nanna asked so nicely.”

“You’re about to embarrass me in front of the man I work for?”

You don’t look at Harry. “It’s not like you haven’t managed that all by yourself on previous occasions.”

“Yeah, don’t stop on my account.” Harry coughed, battling laughter.

“Great, we’re all on the same page.” You grinned. You turned back to Nanna, “Once upon a time, my little brother had to sleep in a crib and wear nappies just like all the other babies. He was cute, it should be said. I have a picture on my phone somewhere of him running around the garden with no clothes on.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and sunk into his seat with a scowl. Holly gave him a patronising pat on the shoulder.

“Anyway, beside the point. Like most toddlers he was an absolute tyrant, compared to me - I was an angel.”

“Hard to believe.” Harry muttered.

“Aye,” Nanna shot him a look. She’d been smitten with him all night until that point.

“Don’t worry about it - we’re in an ongoing feud.” You brushed the matter away and continued with your story. “During his reign of tyranny, he adopted a very obscure but passionate obsession with toothpaste. Colgate Cool Stripe only - no other product lived up to his expectations. It all started when, one day, our mother accidentally used adult toothpaste instead of the toddler stuff. An uphill battle began.

“Any time he had to clean his teeth, he’d try and use Colgate instead of the kiddy stuff, and mum or dad would fight with him until he surrendered in a screaming fit and had a toothbrush forced into his face hole.”

Someone sniggered, and your chest inflated. Making people laugh had always pleased you.

“His addiction got so bad, one night he managed to escape from his cot and into Mum and Dad’s bathroom. They found him on the floor with an empty tube and Colgate smushed all over his cute little face. Hours later he had a terrible accident. I won’t go into graphic detail since we’ve just had our dinner.”

Nanna started laughing, a throaty and hoarse sound. Given the amount of times she’d excused herself for a cigarette, you attributed that habit to the unique noise. “And this happened more than once?”

You nodded. “They tried locking it in the cabinet a few times, but he’d always find it. Eventually they changed tactics and just bought Aquafresh instead.”

Nanna hummed and gave him a pointed look. “I’ve always thought you were a picky bastard.”

“Nanna,” Holly gasped, shaking with laughter. She leaned her forehead against her husband’s shoulder.

“I can’t be that picky if I ended up with your granddaughter.”

Holly threw her hands up. “Does anyone else want to bully me today? Between that and being called very stupid I think I might have room for one more insult.”

“Your shoes don’t go with your dress.” Nanna said.

After a beat of silence, the table erupted into laughter.

The waiter returned to offer dessert, which you would usually forego since pubs rarely tended to offer gluten free choices without putting up a fight. You’d learned to live a sad, dessert-less existence. But everyone else was having one so you succumbed to peer pressure.

“What ice cream flavours do you have?”

“For the sundae?” The young girl asked with a confused frown.

“No, I’m coeliac so I can’t have it.”

“Oh,” her cheeks turned pink, which was not your intention, “sorry. Um, just the usual flavours, then.”

Neopolitan.

“Great, can I have two scoops of chocolate.”

“Sure.”

She was very quick to hurry off. Something bothered you about that whole exchange but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Aren’t you bored of chocolate ice cream?” Harry asked, but he was fiddling with his napkin rather than looking at you.

“Never.”

Holly kicked his leg under the table but you pretended not to notice.

After the bill was settled, which Harry tried to sneak off and pay for without telling anyone, you bid goodbye to each other and sent your brother, Holly and Nanna off together in a taxi. The waitress hadn’t stopped giving you wary glances ever since you asked for ice cream, and you still couldn’t place what went wrong. You might have been a little short with her but it wasn’t meant with any malice.

It didn’t really dawn on you what was wrong until you were walking up the hill to the cabin with Harry.

A curdling feeling in your stomach had you feeling very queasy very quickly.

“Oh no.” You mumbled, keeping your gaze on the grass below you. Your vision swung and you struggled to keep your balance.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, turning back to you. He’d been a couple of metres ahead of you for the entire walk so you didn’t have to force a conversation.

You sat down on the grass to keep yourself gravitated, but it was no good. You weren’t nauseous because you were dizzy, you were dizzy because you were sick.

You spent the next ten minutes vomiting into the bushes.

Harry had kept a relative distance from you while you were sick, only handing you a bottle of water when you seemed to give up the last of your stomach contents and take a big breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a cautious voice.

Unattractively, you swilled your mouth out and then necked the remaining contents of the bottle. “Yeah, fine.”

“What happened?”

“I think something went wrong at dinner.”

“What do you mean?”

You gave him a levelled look, trying to communicate with your eyes. It seemed like a ridiculous idea considering you could barely communicate together with words, let alone silent glances.

“Ah… did it say gluten free on the menu?”

You nodded.

“Did you tell them?”

You shook your head. Sometimes you liked to put faith in humanity and believe you’d be fine putting yourself in the hands of others. When you were dining with practical strangers, making a fuss about your condition made you feel like a twat, so you kept quiet about it. Now you wish you’d said something.

“Are you gonna make a complaint?”

You shook your head furiously and readjusted yourself to sit back on your arse rather than your knees. “Happens all the time, sadly.”

“That girl knew they’d fucked up, didn’t she?”

“You saw that?”

“I saw you looking at her a lot after the ice cream thing.”

You made a strange noise. “It is what it is. I don’t blame her for not saying anything. For all she knows I could be going home unscathed.”

“But you’re not.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’m not into making a scene.”

“You could’ve been seriously ill.”

“I know that.”

“If you don’t tell them they fucked up, how are they going to know to stop it from happening to someone else in the future?”

You took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. You and Harry had made progress today, on some weird level, but this was not part of that progress. “Fine. I’ll do something about it tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.”

“Leave it alone, Harry!” You finally snapped. “How I handle my health issues is none of your fucking business, especially when you haven’t got a fucking clue what it’s like to have them. Just drop it.”

His jaw ticked. “Fine.”

He disappeared up the hill and into the cabin without so much as another word.

You collapsed onto your back and let a tight sob wrack through you.

You contemplated what the fuck you were doing. This holiday had been nothing but a shit show from start to day 2 and you didn’t want to do it anymore. You should’ve gone home this morning. You’d refused to quit so early on given how long it had been since you had any real time off, but the universe was clearly working against you and you wished you hadn’t bothered.

As it always did, a second round of vomiting ensued, and you were back on your hands and knees hacking up bile while your stomach protested. You cried more as you threw up.

As the convulsions subsided you collapsed onto your back again, but the smell of it was starting to affect you. Slowly, you stood on shaky legs and attempted to make your way up to the cabin.

You hadn’t realised, but Harry was standing at the top of the hill wearing a frown, hands shoved into his pockets. When you caught sight of him you were ashamed. You knew what he’d said came from a good place, but it just really ground your gears when people who had no idea what it was like tried to tell you how to handle it.

He made his way back to you and silently placed his hand on the small of your back. It was warm and unfamiliar, but you couldn’t work out if the trembling from you was because of that or because you were just sick.

“How much more did you see?” You asked, helpless.

He gave you a startled look, like he was shocked to hear you so vulnerable. “Enough.”

You sighed and kept your gaze on the floor, trying not to fall over.

“Do you have any medication or anything?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t really work like that.”

Once you got to the cabin you headed straight for the bathroom and changed into your pyjamas. You then poured yourself a glass of water and took it to bed with you. You were asleep within seconds.

You slept through the night that night. When you woke you felt a shit-ton better than you had the night before, and it left you with a smile on your face. You wriggled your legs and toes underneath the sheets and stretched your arms.

You realised the bed was empty, but when you peeled an eye open it was obvious Harry had slept on his side at some point. You sat up to an empty room. There was no sign of Harry, again.

You didn’t know much about Harry’s daily routine but you would put money on him being an early morning runner. You shivered at the thought.

He appeared whilst you were in the middle of your second round of toast. It was the only thing you could think to try and stomach after yesterday’s disaster. Harry was in regular clothes, not running attire. You owed yourself a fiver.

“Ah,” he paused at the sight of you eating toast, and limply lifted his hand. The same greasy brown paper bag rustled in his grip.

“Don’t be shy.” You patted the table after swallowing your mouthful. “I’ll still eat it.”

“You’re that hungry?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what happens when you’re forced to empty your entire stomach contents.”

His nose wrinkled. “Right.”

You took a sip of coffee while he made himself comfortable in the seat opposite you.

“How do you feel?”

“Well, I slept the night through and didn’t hit my head this morning which is a major improvement on yesterday.”

“That’s something. Do you feel right enough to go out?”

“If I weren’t on holiday I’d be right back to work, Harry. No rest for the wicked and all.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Okay. I was gonna go down to the lake… it’s really warm out.”

“Are you telling me, or is that an invitation?”

He picked his pastry apart. “Both? I don’t know, it might do you some good.”

Concern? From your nemesis? This was bad. “Oh, don’t go coy on me, Harry. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Knew I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“That’s more like it.”

His mouth lifted at the corner for the shortest fraction of a second.

“Is it pebbly or sandy?”

An olive branch.

“Both?”

The worst kind of lake beach, then. “The type that calls for a special type of shoe.”

He grimaced. “I know.”

“It’s fine. We make do.” You pronounced, and stood from the table with your dirty things. “Give me 20 minutes and we’ll go.”

“That alright?”

You peered up at the man blocking the sun with a pinched look. He stood before you in a faded white t-shirt and board shorts, holding an ice cream cone with a single chocolate scoop on top.

“As long as it’s the right cone, it’s perfect.”

“I double checked.” He promised as he handed it to you, and then sat with his own.

This was day four on the beach by the lake. While you and Harry spent the time there together, you did your own thing. He spent most of his time in the water like a fucking fish, and you spent yours on a towel with a book and enough food to feed the 5,000.

You’d found a tolerable medium with Harry. In the day you gave each other your needed space, and at night time you tried not to touch each other in bed. Or smother each other. So far it had worked well.

You hadn’t seen Holly or your brother since that night at dinner. They’d actually been visiting for a relative’s birthday party and had already gone home, leaving you and Harry to suffer together.

“I think you’re running low on your special bread.”

You snorted and covered your mouth. ‘Special bread’ made you sound like some kind of escaped lunatic.

“I don’t know why I said it like that.” Harry shook his head. “But the fact remains.”

“We’re running low on a lot.”

“Maybe we should go shopping.”

You groaned. This is what your life had come to: grocery shopping with a celebrity.

“I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

“Where even is the nearest supermarket?”

“I don’t know - I went shopping on the way here.”

“So did I.”

Has there ever been a more ridiculous conversation?

Harry found his phone and checked for signal, soon letting out a soft sigh. “Five weeks without WiFi was a stupid idea.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

You decided to check a map on the notice board outside the public toilets on the lake site and decided there must be a supermarket in the nearest town. Harry drove you out into the Scottish countryside following his sat-nav’s directions to the closest town.

It was a little odd being in the same car as him. While your brother’s work relationship and subsequent marriage had brought him into your life for many a family gathering, you’d never found yourself in quite such a confined space as this. Apart from the bed situation. You were certain he was being quiet on your behalf, because silence was better than small talk. The decision to go shopping had proven that much.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered the second you entered the supermarket.

You followed his nervous gaze to a man with a camera doing a shitty job at hiding. “Go back to the car if you want to.”

“Hardly fair.”

“Being uncomfortable isn’t fair.” You insisted. “Go take a drive and be back here in half an hour. I don’t mind.”

He sighed and handed you the list you’d prepared before leaving. “I’ll be back.”

“Yes, please don’t use this opportunity to abandon me here.”

He smirked. “Don’t put ideas in my head.” He took his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his card. “Use that.”

You frowned at it, and then him in turn. “I don’t mind paying for it.”

“Pay with my card and then send me half when you find signal or internet or whatever.” He turned away, but threw, “Half an hour,” over his shoulder.

You had to take a moment to collect yourself. Now you weren’t grocery shopping with a celebrity, you were using one’s credit card.

Before you started your shopping, you had one more thing you had to do. Stalking the man who was stalking your reluctant companion was easy because he didn’t try very hard to be subtle. You tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around with a bewildered look on his face. “Yes?”

“Delete them.”

True to his word, Harry returned half an hour later with a confusing smile. “Guess what I found.”

You let him take the bags out of your hands to shove them in the boot of his car. “What?”

“A fucking Costa.”

“No way…”

“Yes way.” He grinned.

“Where?”

“Literally around the corner.” He thumbed in that general direction. “I got two ‘cause I didn’t know which one you liked.”

“As long as it’s got coffee in it, I’ll consume it.”

Sure enough, two starkly different iced coffees sat in the cup holders in his central console.

“Which one do you want?” You asked. He did buy them after all.

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

“Please pick one.”

“No.”

“Harry.”

“Fine.” He plucked one at random and started drinking as he pulled off. “Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you.” And you meant it, too.

Silence settled between you again as you slurped away at your coffee. It was comfortable this time. You put the window down and stuck your arm out to feel the breeze through your fingers.

“Do you ever wonder how we got so…”

You looked over at him with a curious expression, but he never finished his sentence. “What?”

Harry shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Oh, come on, Harry.” You poked his arm. “You’ve never been one to mince your words in front of me before. Don’t start now.”

His lips twitched with a smile, but it was quickly replaced by something else. A kind of sad contemplation. “I don’t want to ruin a rare nice day.”

Now you were the one struggling to find words. Animosity was just the default practice for you and Harry when you were around each other. After so many years of battling over often ridiculous things, he was right. This was a rare nice day. You hadn’t argued once. Come to think of it, you hadn’t argued at all since the day you were sick. That little spat on the hill was the last one.

But curiosity ate away at you. What was he going to say that had the potential to ruin your good time? Knowing Harry, it could be any number of things.

“I promise I won’t lose my shit if you tell me.”

His face lit up with amusement, but he never laughed. “Shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Right there, in that single moment, you were reminded just why the world had an obsession with the man sitting beside you. Even in the blandest setting, Harry Styles looked like the man who would promise you everything you’ve ever wanted and be able to deliver it to you. The man who held enough charisma both on and off stage for a hundred other men. The man with pretty eyes and pretty pink lips. The man who looked damn good whether he was clean-shaven or harbouring two weeks of scruff like he was now. The man who would spoil you to no end, who would give you a life of comfort and stability, who would drop everything at a second’s notice to be yours. Fuck, he looked like the man who might even die for you.

You’d seen Harry in love and the man gave his whole fucking heart and soul to the person he was with. His inherent attractiveness was just a bonus.

“Tell me, please.” You tried again.

He considered it for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. Eventually he sighed, “Do you ever wonder how things managed to get so bad? Between us?”

Ah.

A loaded question, indeed.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

He glanced your way, jaw suddenly tense. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t tend to wonder about it because I haven’t forgotten at all how we did.”

“Walk me through it.”

“Are you sure you want that?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from the most honest woman I know.”

You were biding your time, mulling over your response. Perhaps this would ruin your nice day, but this was the most open conversation the two of you were ever going to have. Not talking about it would be both a missed opportunity and a disservice to yourself.

“Okay. You’re not going to like it, though.”

“I didn’t expect to.”

You took a deep breath. “The first time I met you didn’t go at all how I expected it to. In hindsight I guess, to you, I would’ve just been a footnote. Your friends have other friends you probably meet all the time and I was just one of the next hundred. Holly and my brother had only just started dating, but Holly and I got on so well we started doing things together as friends without him. She invited me to lunch with… you know, the usual suspects.”

He nodded once, slowly. The usual suspects he wasn’t speaking to anymore for various different reasons. You didn’t keep tabs on Harry’s life by choice, but Holly and the internet provided more about it than you cared for.

“Maybe you were just young. Or maybe there was something different that I just missed or didn’t understand, but you weren’t at all like I expected you to be. Everyone - my brother, Holly, my parents -, everyone said you were amazing. ‘The nicest boy you’ll ever meet’. And sure, you were nice. Charming, even. And you had everyone’s undivided attention, including Holly’s. And mine. But Holly’s more so.

“That girl loves you. And I watched her love you up close and personal and it was amazing and beautiful and I really wanted her to give just even a portion of that love to my brother. And she did, but it didn’t come without a fight.

“I didn’t care that you spent most of that lunch ignoring everyone else at the table. Or maybe I did. I just knew that you only cared about Holly’s undivided attention and she had no quarrels giving it to you. There was a time I thought you might be secretly in love with each other,” you laughed at the reminder because it seemed stupid now, “but when I brought it up with her she laughed so hard she cried and then pretended to vomit.”

“Damn,” Harry produced an offended laugh. “Didn’t know I was that repulsive.”

“Anyway, it didn’t stop her from loving you. Never has. Soon after, I spent a week with her and my brother in Spain on some all-inclusive thing. Before you ask, I was forced to go. Being a third-wheel is absolutely not my style.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think it sounded like you.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Anyway, I watched Holly send constant photos, messages, gifs, any and all digital media to you while we were on that holiday, cataloguing the entire thing. I don’t think you realise how many times I heard oh Harry’s gonna love this. But what got me is you never replying to her. Not once. Her phone screen was just a sea of blue messages against a backdrop of silence. At one point I considered she’d got the wrong number, but then you texted her the day we left with something really dull and generic and I really wanted to hit you.”

“I don’t remember this at all.” He admitted, face paled.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re a busy man. I reminded myself of that a lot to start off with, but the whole thing became a recurring pattern. Maybe you think I’m stupid and it’s a bit of an overreaction for it, but I’m quite observant when I want to be. You’re Holly’s best friend, even if she’s not yours. Every time she says it, it’s like she’s been given the greatest gift in the entire world. And she’s such a bright, incredible person. She’s my best friend. Not just because she’s married to my brother, but because she’s the best person I’ve ever met and nothing will ever change that.

“Over the years I’ve watched countless messages and phone calls from her to you go unanswered, seen her face turn down with sadness when you don’t call her back or text out a reply. She deserves more than that.

“I’ve noticed you do it to my brother, too. I know he works for you so maybe it’s not the same, but it’s safe to say that in their house, Harry Styles isn’t a name that lights up their phone screens very often. Ever.”

Harry fidgeted a little and cleared his throat. “All this time I thought I’d done something to you.”

“No. Worse. You continually managed to upset my best friend, even if you didn’t know it, and in turn you upset me.”

“Then I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to, Harry. She’ll never admit that she’s hurt by your silence because she doesn’t want to lose you. This is why we’re so very different. I don’t hang around for people who don’t appreciate the good they have in their life. I’m a good person, and Holly is an even better one. She deserves more than your attention when she’s only sat in front of you.”

“You’re right. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are.”

His lips twitched again. “The next time I’m in the village with signal I’ll call her. Promise.”

“Don’t promise me. Promise yourself, and her. One day she might snap and decide she doesn’t want to wait for months at a time to hear from you. Because hearing about you through my brother doesn’t count.”

“I know. I get it, I really do…”

“Good. Now, my turn.” You let out a long breath and turned in your seat. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you-,”

“You called me both insufferable and intolerable in the space of five minutes when I got here.”

“Let me finish.” He said, exasperated. “I don’t hate you, I’m scared of you.”

“Calling someone intolerable because you’re scared of them doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, let’s put it this way. While perhaps you were right, at first I thought you were just another friend of a friend who’d made an appearance for uncertain reasons, it became apparent very quickly that you weren’t going anywhere. It also became very apparent that you were not my biggest fan. That first lunch was one of a kind because you barely said a word. Every other time after that, which I now realise happened to be family-oriented, you hardly shut up.

“I’ve always noticed it. You command the attention of everyone in the room. You’re a storyteller. You could turn an anecdote about a trip to the petrol station into a fairytale. You give everyone in the room your undivided attention, and when I realised you never gave it to me, well… safe to say I was wounded. Holly talked you up to high heaven. Your brother loves you. My own mother loves you even though we don’t get on.

“There’s something about you. And the fact that the only attention you ever gave me was a dirty look or a snippy remark made me petty. So I started giving it back, and I think the more I did it, the more I lost sight of the kind of person you actually are, because I only focused on the side you showed to me.”

He turned into the driveway of the cabin, and you thought he was done. But when the engine shut off, he said one last thing.

“In one of your many little outbursts you said I’ve got a severe case of oosoom syndrome. I never bothered to look it up because I didn’t want to know what kind of idiot you thought I was, but it’s just clicked.”

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

He nodded and turned to you with a calm gaze. “I get it now.” He wasn’t just talking about the idiom.

“Good.”

The rain was back and heavier than ever. The ground surrounding the cabin was a swamp, the hill that led down to the village was indiscernible thanks to the downpour, and the day was dark and moody. Inside the cabin it was muggy and humid and you felt ridiculous sitting at the dining table in a vest and denim shorts, but you were.

Harry sitting opposite you looked more rugged than usual. His hair was pulled back with a clip, his stubble was shifting into a beard and his clothes were wrinkled.

“Hmm…” He gave an obnoxious tap on his chin.

You rolled your eyes and sunk into the seat. “Just put me out of my misery and show me your cards.”

He laughed, peering at you with a lightness in his eyes that was so unfamiliar it almost had you shell shocked. “Fine.” He placed his hand on the table showcasing his win.

It was day three of this charade. It hadn’t stopped raining and all you’d done was cycle between card games and Monopoly. He always won. You were so fed up of him winning that this was the last straw.

You stood and swiped his hand off the table so that they landed in a flurry on the wooden cabin floor.

“Hey…” he pouted.

“That was childish of me, I’m sorry.” You groaned, and crouched down to pick them up. “I’m so bored, Harry. I think I’m going mad. We don’t even have a TV. We’re in the middle of nowhere with a pack of cards missing the Ace of Spades and Queen of Hearts and an old beat up Monopoly box with half the properties missing.”

He blinked at me. “I know this. I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Sorry.” You muttered. “When I’m frustrated I just state the obvious.”

“But I thought that was my job.”

You rolled your head back and sighed at the ceiling. “I need to do something. Anything. I don’t want to sit in here anymore. I need air.”

“It’s pissing it down.”

“I’m aware. You have a car… just humour me for a bit. An hour tops.”

“You want me to drive you around for an hour? In a smaller space than we’re already in?”

“Okay, fine,” you sat back down in your chair and attempted to plead with the normal side of him, the non-celebrity side, “what if… when me and my brother were little and we went away with Mum and Dad, if the weather was crap like this we’d get in the car and drive to the nearest supermarket. And we’d have lunch in the cafe and then do a bit of shopping and then come back. And we’d all get one thing to bide the time before the weather got better again. Why don’t we do that?”

A smile was forming on his lips. “You want to try shopping with me again?”

“That prick and his fancy camera won’t be going back there, trust me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why, what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” You patted his hand. “Please, Harry. Rescue me from insanity.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

“Yay!” You stood and clapped your hands together. “I’m gonna change.”

Half an hour later you were back at the supermarket in the town over and ready to find as much new entertainment as possible.

“Do you think we should buy them a TV?” Harry contemplated aloud as he stood in front of a large flatscreen.

You gave him a scrutinous look. “And put it where?”

“Good point.” He sighed. “We’re missing Love Island.”

You barked a laugh and carried it down the aisle with you. “That is not what I expected you to mourn over.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

You found your way to the games and books. “Can we get a jigsaw puzzle?”

“Why are you asking me? Get whatever you want, mate.”

You perused the options with as much interest as a car fanatic in a vintage car garage. “Farmyard or harbour? Or circus? Or mountains?”

“Whichever will keep you occupied for the longest.” He said absently, moving down the aisle to the board games.

The circus one had the most pieces and highest level of difficulty, so you plucked the box off the shelf and followed after him. “Have they got the Game of Life?”

He started laughing but never answered you.

“Oh,” you pouted, tapping the spin-off version that was much shorter and way less entertaining.

“Bop-It?”

“When I was little I completed that.”

He raised a brow at you. “Can you even complete Bop-It?”

“Yes,” you snatched the box off the shelf, “and I will prove it to you when we get back.”

“We’ll see about that.” He whispered, smirking. “We need an actual board game.”

You gazed over the options with the same level of interest as the jigsaws. “You choose. I’ve picked the last two.”

“Absolutely not, I’ll only pick wrong.”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Cluedo.”

“Then get Cluedo.” You pointed at it and walked away.

Two hours later and three books heavier you were back at the cabin and starting your jigsaw puzzle. You and Harry sat on your claimed sides of the table, box lid propped against the window and a selection of snacks between you.

“Where the fuck is the fourth corner?” You grumbled, digging through the box like a cat in a litter tray.

Harry glanced at the box lid, then at the jumbled selection of tiles, and plucked it out without hesitation. “There y’go.”

You blinked at him. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” You pinched it from him and placed it in the relevant corner. “Thank you.”

“A compliment and gratitude? It is a good day.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m not very good at the splits.”

That made you laugh, right from the back of your throat. “Have you tried?”

“Many times.”

“For what purpose?”

“I had a thing for my yoga instructor once and she was convinced I could do it so I kept trying just to impress her.”

“My God, you are a sap.”

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“It’s nice to know you failed at something for such a pitiful reason.”

He gave you such a megawatt smile you had to look away. “I’m just like any other boy.”

“I can’t believe you had to try hard to impress anyone. It almost doesn’t seem natural.”

“You make me sound like a robot.”

“I don’t think you’re a robot. I just think sometimes things seem to come a little too easily to you. Skills. Work. Friends. Women. Probably men, too. Some of us have to try really hard to get those things.”

“You have friends. A good job. And I refuse to believe people aren’t interested in you… romantically.”

You lifted a brow at him. “Refuse?”

“Are they not?”

“Have you ever known me to be ‘romantically’ involved with anyone?”

“Yeah, that lad you took to your brother’s wedding.”

Colin.

“He’s gay.”

“Oh.” He scratched his nose. “I wondered why he kept eyeing up one of the groomsmen. Your cousin?”

“Also gay.”

“Have you never had a boyfriend?”

“Not since school, no.”

“Have you… are you… you know?”

You gave him another raised brow. “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

He rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. “I’m sorry. Ignore me.”

“Just because I haven’t had relationships, doesn’t mean I’m a virgin, Harry.”

The tips of his ears turned pink. “I think we’ve gone a bit off track here.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

He slotted a piece into place next to one of the corners. You slotted another one in after that. The pattern repeated itself, in silence, for the next twenty minutes.

“When do you go to your AirBnB?”

You met his gaze with a calm expression. “Six days. Five nights.”

“Okay.” He said as he stood. “Are you hungry enough for dinner yet?”

“If you are, we can eat.”

He gave a stiff nod. “Okay.”

~~~

Part 2

Talk to me?

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles ou #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles fluff imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles angst imagines

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dianadiaries · 6 months ago

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ateez’s reaction to you wearing waist chain. bet theyre going crazy over it as if they hadnt been obsessed with your waist already 🤪

-- mono diana ask!!

aa I love this idea soooo much, so I don't have an idea for all of ateez but for yunho!!

You have been scrolling for quite sometime, till you saw this cute swimsuit idea! You decided to text Yunho to come to the beach with you! After doing so you find out everyone is coming, not that it bothers you they are your friends to! You find your swimsuit that matches your skin perfectly. But you were missing one thing, what was it that the girl had in the video. After your mind pondered for a while you figured it out again, waist beads! You had a couple only around three, two were a pearly look-a-like and other matched the color of your swimsuit.

★

You look in your lengthy mirror, and smile. You had the looks of a mermaid in her own little lagoon. Ethereal. After finding a cute cover up to put over your swimsuit, you decided to make a picnic basket. You looked in the fridge, and packed up watermelon, bubbly soda, and some sandwiches. But you being you, you brought some other snacks for the members! After a while you got a ding from Yunho, he was here with all the boys for the beach! You giggled and put on your sandals, and walked out your house. "Hi /your name!!" Wooyoung says happily as you enter the car with your cute little strawberry basket. "Hi woo!!" You say plopping down next to him.

★

"what is that basket for?" A husky voice questions, "o—oh uhh it's food I got it for everyone!" You say a tad bit startled from Mingi's rather deep voice. You all have a bit till yall get to the beach so you sleep with wooyoung while Seonghwa is helping yunho with directions. Yeosang and Jongho are talking. Hongjoong, San, and Mingi are arguing about what flavor of cheetos are better. But sooner or later yall get to the beach. "/your name, wooyoung! Wake up we are here!" Seonghwa says. While everyone is still getting out the car, Yunho stares at you a bit while your sleeping before waking you up. After your little sleepy haze you are walking to the beach with everyone. Yunho is holding on to your waist while you have the basket in your hand.

★

finally that ocean breeze, you place everything down as Seonghwa is starting to cook, a nice barbecue. Everyone else except you, Yunho, and Mingi are playing volleyball. You, Yunho and Mingi are about to swim, as you take your cover up off you can feel a certain someones eyes on you. That someone being Yunho. Your waistbeads falling ever so gently on your curves, making them shine even more. "Is there a problem?" You say making sure he is okay. "Uh uh no no don't worry!" He says stuttering a bit. He really is like a wondering puppy, you relish in your mind. As you finish up that conversation, Mingi groans and yall head to the ocean. It was so pretty, and clear. Until Mingi started to splash water on you. Yunho watched from a tad bit a far. Watching the way when you jumped the waist beads would to. They just fit you so well, how can he not look.

★

After you and Mingi's interference, you walked back to Yunho. Yunho looked at the way when you walked the beads would go up down up down. He was in love or something. But he would never tell. You examine his face, very close. "Are you okay? You seem hot." You question him once again. "Uh—uh... I'm fine!!" Yunho brushes it off. You shrugged and walked away. Yet he stilled, and turned to watch that effortlessly gorgeous waist, and the of course pretty beads on it.

-----> author note : aaaa I love summer what about you guys!!

#ateez smut #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x reader smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #atz smut #yunho fluff #ateez drabbles #song mingi #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #san ateez #jongho #wooyoung

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soap-ify · 1 year ago

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hi ruru! thank you for your kind words on my post today 🫶🏼 can i please get a little something about soap x reader who’s been working really hard lately (to the point where she can’t pull herself away from her laptop at the end of the day)? how would johnny boy help her relax/ take her mind off work?? could be fluffy or smutty 💛

CHERRY!! reader is just like me... i overworked myself so much yesterday and aa we should take more care of ourselves!

cw — fluff, praises !! he is so in love, fingering and lots of smooches.

johnny had experienced it all before too numerous times, being overworked to the point where one just loses themselves in their work.

he tried to catch your attention throughout the day, either by poking your sides or just sitting beside you on the couch, earning nothing but dismissive huffs from you while your fingers furiously typed on the keyboard, glazed eyes frantically reading the stuff on your screen while your brain constantly thought about all the other work you still had to finish.

“ye need to leave tha’ shite alone for a minute, hen.” his voice was quiet, laced with concern while his hands acted more firmly, snatching your laptop from you and saving the file, ignoring all your protests. he didn’t care if you’d be mad at him, the only thing he cared about at this moment was you and your health.

after making you drink a glass of water, considering you didn’t drink one at all throughout the day, he gently led you to the bedroom and eased you on the bed, your muscles starting to ache as soon as you collapsed on the bed, head feeling dizzy and too active.

“johnny…” a weary groan left your lips, watching him get on top of you, his callused hands gently cupping your face, pressing sweet little kisses on your temple, easing the tension beneath your brows. you hadn’t even realised how tired you were, and all this attention from him was making your heart heavy with emotion.

“ssh, i know…” he nuzzled his nose against yours, your eyes getting all droopy while your hands lazily tugged on his sleeves.

“ye work so much. nae takin’ care of yerself at all. hurts my poor heart.” he mumbled in a playful manner despite his words being very much true, his stubble tickling your skin as he peppered kisses on your cheeks before finally meeting your lips, kissing you in such a sickeningly gently manner that it made your heart ache in a good way, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the way he comforted you, strong hands rubbing your hips soothingly while he lightly nipped on your bottom lip, his blue eyes half-open, filled with undying affection.

“lemme help ye.” he cooed softly, his hand sliding down in between your bodies, caressing your stomach before going down to gently tug down your trousers and panties. you shuddered at the sudden contact of his skin against your skin, goosebumps forming quickly while your hands gently held onto the back of his neck, wanting him as close as possible.

“gonna make ye stop thinkin’ so much.” his hand slowly caressed the plush of your thighs, coaxing your legs apart.

his fingers made contact with your puffy folds, gently gathering some slick before beginning to rub up and down your slit, loving the way you were starting to get wetter, slowly moving over to focus on your clit that was basically begging for attention, your body aching for a release. his fingers begin drawing soft circles over your clit, causing a broken whimper to leave your lips, your hips bucking forward to somehow get a bit more pressure.

“so perfect and so smart… always doin’ great in everything ye do.” his face was so close to yours, lips repeatedly pressing soft kisses on your temple, whispering soft praises into your ears. “m’so proud of ye, y’know.”

his words made your insides warm up with love, blood rushing to your cheeks as you leaned your head forward slightly to nuzzle it against his neck, breathless noises leaving you while his fingers continued to give your clit the attention it deserved, rubbing and tugging it gently.. “i love you so much johnny, love you so much…” you repeated over and over as if it was forever ingrained in your brain, which it probably was.

johnny didn’t pull any of his playful stunts this time, his actions full of tenderness and care he craved to give you, his other hand gently holding onto the side of your hip. “ah, i love ye too.” he chuckled under her breath, his blue eyes softening up even more.

heat pooled between your legs while his wet fingers continued to glide on your slit occasionally before focusing back on your twitchy and hard clit, loving the way it slid so easily across your cunt.

“ye close, hen?” he asked once he felt the tremble of your thighs, your breathing quickening up while your lips were parted in awe, head nodding.

“s-so close… need to cum so bad, johnny.” you voice was quivering and laced with need, your chest rising and falling gently.

he gently eased a finger in your tight cunt, and then another, given how you were already soaking wet, curling them up inside you while looking for any signs of discomfort on your face. when he found none, he gently began to thrust his fingers inside your weeping cunt, finding all your spongy sweet spots with ease. it was insane how his fingers were enough to quickly push you over the edge.

your eyes rolled back once his thumb begin rubbing your puffy clit once more, your walls tightening around his fingers while your legs tried to wrap themselves around his hips, the pleasure getting sweetly overwhelming with each thrust of his fingers until you finally came apart, your orgasm hitting you in waves that lasted for a good few seconds, your body trembling underneath him as you moaned shakily and hid your face against his shoulders, fingers clinging onto the fabric of his shirt tight while he helped you ride your orgasm, fingers gently sliding out of your fluttering cunt, giving your clit a few more rubs before he stopped and pulled his hand back, looking at the way your slick coated his fingers, his mouth cheekily wrapping around his fingers to taste you. a satisfied hum left him before he began pressing repeated little pecks on your lips, causing you to whine and squirm.

“did so good f’me, hen. feelin’ better?” he asked softly, earning a nod from you, a blissful smile adorning your lips while your brain felt all fuzzy and dreamy.

he definitely didn’t stop at that, fully intent on making you forget about all your work. his fingers were quick to stuff inside you again, determined to pull a few more orgasms out of you.

the night ended up with you fast asleep in his embrace, head craddled against his chest, his heartbeat soothing your nerves.

#you overworking yourself is a crime in johnny's eyes #like how dare you!!#soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic #ruru mail

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asterlae · 9 days ago

Text

Hey i finally finished Apollo Justice :D and with it i have finally played by myself all the ace attorney games i had watched a gameplay of

Fun fact i actually came in contact with ace attorney first throught apollo justice, it was the firs AA game i watched a gameplay of

So here are my thoughts after experiencing it by myself

I liked it if im being honest, like a lot , i missed the feature of being able to present profiles to people, and also wanted more characters to reacto to me presenting the attorney's badge, also would have loved to mantain the prints dust, luminol testing for all the cases, instead of like, trying out a different tool to investigate every case, but I still enjoyed it

Im still mad about the logic of turnabout serenade and turnabout corner, wtf is that, the cases were fun but i mostly tried to ignore their logic for acussing the defendant, specially with machi tobaye

I love trucy a lot, as a character, like, she acts so childish and yet you can see that she understands almost everything happening around her far better than the majority of people around her. One of my favorite examples of this (i consider this as an example taking in consideration what we learn about her trhought the game) is on scene at the beggining of turnabout corner, when phoenix its trying to get apollo to work for him and he goes like "oh well, if you dont help, trucy wil have to change of school, again" and then trucy its like "oh no, i just had started making new friends...", like, i have a feeling trucy understood very well what phoenix was trying to achieve there and decided to act her part bc she is a performer, and I actually think that bc of that she and klavier understand each other quite well

Like he was the one acknowledged trucy the most during the trials whenever she demostrared to have a deep observation of the case, not only that but we have the fact that we know Klavier also acts as a performer, showing a smile, acting all relaxed, but then being really perfectionist.

Anyways i could go all day talking about klavier and trucy but, the post its not about them and it would have to be in spanish bc I dont think i can express everything i think about them

Then we have apollo as a new lawyer. I like him, i like his chords of steel, i like that his color is red, i like his design, i love the bond he crestes with trucy, i really want to see him develope in the same way we saw phoenix grow as a lawyer

As i said in other post a love this phoenix, he has this so morally dobious and depressed energy around him that i like so much, and his tension with kristoph its just great

I will maybe draw krisnix in the future but i cant assure anything bc it kind of feel like phoenix being a cheater

Now i finally will continue with the great ace attorney!!!

I stopped mid game bc im the kind of person who likes to leave the tasty thing to the end, and although i love apollo justice my obssesion with tgaa its bigger, and also, it has misteries i dont know anything about (mostly), and my new wife, kazuma

About spirit of justice and dual destinies... I dont think i will be plsying them in the near future, for various reasons, jut the main three are:

1. I dont have the money for that, like i was able to afford tgaa bc it was the cheapest of all the collections, and it was on discount, like yeah, no, i cant afford that, and even if i could i think that investigations would be my priority

2. Its bc im not very convinced by what i saw when i watched a gameplay of DD, mostly bc I wasnt expecting phoenix to go back so quickly to baing an attorney, like, I was watching the first case, and was like "ooh cool, we have a new lawyer along side apollo", and when athena had that kind of panic attack and phoenix appeared i was like "cool, we will have him as a co-counsel, helping athena ground herself and giving her some asistance throughout the case", but then i saw him take the lead as the defense, and have athena as co-counsel and I was left so disapointed, like this is a tutorial case, why arent we continuing it the rookie new lawyer?, so yeah, i will probably watch a gameplay of it, but Im not sure i will try to play it

3. Is that im way to used to seeing these characters of the main games in pixel art style, im fine with tgaa bc they arent characters I have met before, with them its still hard, but its easier to get used to see them in 3D, but im not ready to do that transition with, phoenix, trucy or apollo

Anyways this is my comentary of apollo justice, we will soon continue with me getting all excited over a dance of deduction

#my art #fanart #sketch #apollo justice #trucy wright #phoenix wright #aster rant

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thewastes-clangen · 11 months ago

Text

Plagueclan Founders

Before the infection, 3 clans filled the valley; Shoreclan dominated the beaches by the ocean, Peakclan teetered on the edge of the mountains that shadowed the valley, and Meadowclan populated the flower fields in between. When the infection began, it started in Shoreclan. As the survivors moved into Meadowclan territory, they brought the illness with them and it spread further and further, even making its way up the mountains to Peakclan where the survivors made their last stand. When the dust settled, only a handful of cats remained. Battered and bruised they headed back into the valley and created a camp, hoping to find a cure to fight the disease and survive.

The Survivors:

Hailstar-A medium-furred black tabby and white she-cat with pale green eyes.

She/Her;106 moons;Insecure, Incredible Runner, Steady Paws

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:10,INS:13

Originally from Peakclan, Hailstar was once an average senior warrior. That is, until the infection began and swept through the other clans like a wildfire. When Peakclan finally faced the plague, Hailstar, then Hailheart, ran in fear and left her clan to defend itself without her. Now, Starclan has chosen her to lead the survivors to the confusion of not only her new clanmates but herself as well.

Tigershadow-A medium-furred dark ginger and black tortie she-cat with yellow eyes.

She/Her;78 moons;Wise,Valuable Insight

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:8,INS:16

Tigershadow was once a warrior of Shoreclan. She was a well-loved cat amongst all three clans and thankfully survived the initial outbreak. She lost many loved ones and as the first clan to fall, she watched the entire first wave play out in horror. She survived through it all, though, and while many others think she should've been made leader of the survivors, she is thankful to not have the heavy weight of their survival on her shoulders as Hailstar does. She supports the other she-cat loyally and backs her up on every decision.

Nettlebloom-A medium-furred light brown and dark ginger tortie she-cat with green eyes.

She/Her;96 moons;Bloodthirsty,Trusted Advisor

aa (immune);CHA:14,INS:17

Nettlebloom was once the medicine cat of Meadowclan and served them loyally for many years. However, once the plague began something inside her seemed to change. She became colder and didn't seem to have the same fight for helping her clanmates survive as she once did. Through the protection of her clanmates due to her status, however, she managed to survive the initial outbreak. Now she is intent to find a cure, no matter who she must experiment on to do so.

Tawnystripe-A short-furred gray and golden brown mottled she-cat with hazel eyes.

She/Her;56 moons;Thoughtful,Fast Runner,Talented Swimmer

aa (immune);CHA:8,INS:14

Tawnystripe was a warrior of Shoreclan alongside Tigershadow. She found Cricketkit on the way to Meadowclan after Shoreclan had been defeated and decided to take care of the kit herself. She followed the survivors all the way up the mountains to Peakclan, however she was horrified when they were attacked and Cricketkit was bit. She was not going to sit back and let anyone harm the kit, though, and stood over her with her claws and teeth bared at the ready for days, waiting for a sign that it was the end and vowing to finish her off herself if it came to that. But it never happened, and Cricketkit recovered, proof that there was some sort of defense against the infection. She tends lovingly to the kit still, treating her as a child while giving any cat who comes too close a vicious glare.

Icequill-A long-furred dorsal-striped silver she-cat with blue eyes.

She/Her;54 moons;Playful,Unusually Strong Fighter,Great Kitsitter

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:13,INS:7

Icequill was a strong and well-liked warrior of Peakclan. When Peakclan was attacked, she watched in horror as Hailheart ran away, leaving only her and two other warriors to protect the survivors. She fought viciously and was the last one of Peakclan standing. Once she saw that Cricketkit was bitten, she decided she would take the heavy burden of killing the poor kit, a merciful task. However, she was viciously attacked by Tawnystripe and was strangely beaten by the maternal she-cat, something that had never happened to her before. She was shocked when Hailstar was made leader, and angry that Starclan would choose a coward to protect the survivors, however she does respect Tigershadow and hopes Hailstar gets what's coming to her quickly.

Goldenrose-A long-furred white and speckled pale ginger she-cat with gold eyes.

She/Her;27 moons;Calm,Talented Swimmer

AA (susceptible);CHA:9,INS:11

Goldenrose and her brother, Daisypaw, are the last survivors of Meadowclan other than Nettlebloom. Goldenrose is terrified of the she-cat, knowing what her goals are and what she would do to any of the survivors if she had the chance. She stays far away from the medicine cat and quietly tends to her brother, who has been traumatized from the plague and the loss of the rest of his clan. She is uncomfortable amongst so many strangers but knows if she strikes off alone with Daisypaw there is little to no guarantee they would both survive.

Daisypaw-A short-furred white and speckled cream tom with green-yellow eyes.

He/Him;10 moons;Compassionate,Formidable Fighter

aa (immune);CHA:16,INS:11

Daisypaw sticks close to his sister, Goldenrose, who also forced her way into being his mentor. He is a bleeding heart and is overly attached to anyone who shows him any kindness due to the loss of his clan. He has a great interest in Nettlebloom due to her familiar face but is constantly dragged away from her by a terrified Goldenrose. He keeps to himself unless speaking to Goldenrose, but Cricketkit seems to be one of the only other cats to be able to get him to crack a smile.

Cricketkit-A short-furred white and masked silver tabby she-cat with pale yellow eyes and a bite scar on her neck.

She/They;3 moons;Compassionate

aa (immune)

Cricketkit was abandoned at the start of the plague. Tawnystripe found her and took care of her as the remainder of the clans gathered in Peakclan. However, during the attack on the last fortress she was bitten. Sure the worse was about to happen, Icequill stepped forwards to do the sorrowful task of killing the young kit. Tawnystripe defended her brutally, however, wrestling Icequill to the ground until the she-cat and all the rest of the clan agreed to wait. How much damage could an infected kit do, anyways? It was a miracle and surprise when nothing happened and Cricketkit recovered from the bite. Tawnystripe tends lovingly to the kit, defending her from any attempts by Nettlebloom to use her for "experiments".

#clangen #warriors #warriorcats #plagueclan #Hailstar #Cricketkit #Daisypaw #Goldenrose #Tigershadow #Icequill #Tawnystripe #Nettlebloom

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elf-osamu · 2 years ago

Text

“WOW, I REALLY CAN’T SPEAK, HUH? MUST BE BECAUSE OF HOW PRETTY YOU LOOK”

[ masterlist ] [ event ] [ reblogs are v v v appreciated ]

fluff, romantic relationship, lucifer, mammon, barbatos x gn!reader

warning(s) : mammon’s one is kinda sad at first ?? mostly bc he’s overthinking things ☹️ probably he’s a bit ooc but idc he’s gorgeous regardless (let’s say you two are at the start of your relationship in this one-shot).

words count : 2587 words

request: “howdy may i rq an obey me scenario with this prompt —> “wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look.” gn! mc says it ! would like it to be with lucifer, mammon and barbatos. maybe something like them rambling and asking if mc is listening and they drop that line ^ thank youu”

a/n : AA FINALLY AN OBEY ME REQUEST 🫶🏻 i love those characters with all of my heart, aND THIS PROMPT IS SO GOOD, it’s one of my favorites !! thank you for requesting btw <33 and i apologize for the long wait :( i had no time to write between school and personal matters. anyway, just so you know, lucifer’s and mammon’s ones are soooo long while barbato’s is auite short, i kinda rushed it because i felt bad since i’ve been neglecting requests lately 😭😭 (yeah this is the second time i’m posting this)

LUCIFER :

as the student council vice president, lucifer is well known among the royal academy of diavolo’s demons and angels: although being a composed individual most of the time, he has also an intimidating and almost cruel side to him because of his status, hence why many demons fear him. his fierce, self-assured demeanour is somewhat entrancing, capturing everyone’s gaze in an unbreakable trance, plus his aura of pride is something inevitable in everyday life.

this is not to mention his complicated past and the authority he possesses thanks to lord diavolo, which — according to many demons and a few angels — give more might to his persona.

although sometimes you were the main cause of many troubles in the past, now you can consider yourself quite privileged to be in his good graces. as his partner you have access to a vulnerable part of him that not everyone has a chance to see, where his pride comes off and his insecurities and annoyances emerge, and you can afford to be bold with him.

this very day, he is complaining about a bunch of ‘inferior’ demons who have caused a rather bothersome fuss during curses and hexes class, knocking out a student, giving a headache to your beloved: lucifer knows perfectly well how to put someone in their place, even forcefully if necessary, however it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel pressured and tired after doing his duty.

the stress derived from all of his responsibilities, and from the piles of paperwork stubbornly sitting on his desk nearly every day, highly increases over time.

now the two of you are in his study, lucifer is rereading the report about today’s incident he just finished to write while you intently watch him work, helping him here and there. frowing in displeasure, he keeps changing a few sentences, wondering how the hell he’s going to survive this afternoon.

however, you can’t help but admire his handsome features: his black eyes shine with a reddish light, they are a little jaded but also alive; his rosy lips form a straight line, emphasizing his concentration, but no less beautiful; his cheeks are covered with a slight sheen of blush, probably due to his weariness; what to say, his demonic beauty is undoubtedly striking.

being too busy with your thoughts, you don’t realize he’s trying to get your attention to what he has been saying for the past few minutes.

“[name], are you listening to me?” he asks, lips slightly parted at your silence.

it’s almost funny, the fact that he completely ignores the reason of your quietness.

“[name].” at this point, lucifer’s voice is filled more with worry than irritation. why aren’t you responding to him? is something the matter?

as he’s about to ask another question, you snap back to reality, slowly turning to your senses.

you try to say something to seem completely nonchalant, but your voice �� hoarse from nervousness — betrays you, and you can’t help but observe again your partner, who is frowing even more than before. if that’s possible.

you sigh, in defeat with yourself, and a genuine grin makes its way onto your face. “wow, i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look”.

at first, he doesn’t really process those words.

although his gaze is fixed on your figure, his mind is fuzzy from all the work he’s currently doing, almost as if he were in a dream-like state, not at all focused on the present world. there’s silence for a few seconds in the room you two are in, and you’re asking yourself if you need to bring lucifer back to reality. but when you’re about to talk to him, you shift slightly on your sit, and his brain registers the movement.

so, suddenly, realization hits him. perhaps, too suddenly.

if it weren’t for his majestic pride, he’d cover his face, now completely red — but, doing so would be admitting his confused (but contented) mood derived from the sound of your words, which is inadmissible to him. so, all he can do is pretend that he’s not impressed by what you have said, even if his body is betraying him: in addition to the blush on his face and neck, his eyes are filled with astonishment and his lips, slightly parted again, form a small circle, defining his astonishment.

finally, he glares at you — taking back a part of his self-control — and seems to be lost in thought, probably wondering how he should face the situation without feeling too embarrassed; you can almost see the gears of his brain working wildly, desperately trying to find a simple solution.

and then, his eyes sparkle.

never underestimate a demon, especially if it’s lucifer. have you flustered him? well, be prepared, because he’ll pay you back in the same coin.

he adjusts himself on his scarlet armchair, which highlights his shimmering eyes, and leans towards you, over his desk. you can tell by his look that, if you let him speak, his words will be the death of you. and there’s no way you’ll allow it.

“too bad i need to be in another a class in, like, five minutes,” you blatantly lie, checking your wristwatch, and getting up. you lean just a little to give lucifer a quick peck on the lips. “well, see you later, pretty boy”, you wink at him and leave the room in a hurry, without giving him enough time to process what has happened.

yet again, he’s stunned by how you’ve called him.

the avatar of pride may be confident and assertive, but his heart can only flutter when someone is genuinely complimenting him. especially if it’s you.

MAMMON :

“… and so he blamed me! me, do ya understand? he, without hesitation, cursed the great mammon in front of the whole class! what an outrageous thing to do, don’t ya think!?”.

one interesting thing about the avatar of greed is that, despite his attempts to play it cool, he’s not confident about himself. thinking about it, it can’t but make sense: he’s driven by his multiple desires — money, for example — and craves them every time there’s a minimal absence of those, including external approval; he needs to be seen and accepted by everyone.

admitting it out loud would probably never be an option, considering his stubborn nature, but mammon would do anything to make you smile or laugh at his jokes — anything. he wants to be worthy of your attention — because in his mind he’s not deserving of love, particularly yours. of course, if you asked him something about this matter, he’d say the opposite — he’s everything but good at communicating his needs.

getting to know the demon hasn’t been an easy task, but with time you’ve managed to discover that there’s a soft side to him — a kind, warm heart behind his usual carefree mask.

despite all these thoughts spinning in your head, in this moment you are still fascinated by mammon’s temper and gestures: his hands, shaken, are moving quickly in the air, a slight pout is adorning his face, and his eyes are glimmering in bitter frustration — the sky of the devildom is reaching his darkest shade of colour while he looks vigorous yet ethereal.

“… handsome”, you murmur, as if talking to yourself.

mammon suddenly stops in his tracks, a slight embarassed expression appearing on his face.

“oh? what did ya say?” he asks, confused yet hopeful, thinking that maybe he has misheard you — because how could someone like you view him as nothing but that? sure, you’re his partner, however the fear of not being seen and loved for who he really is… is always present.

you sigh and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “wow, i really can’t speak, huh? ah, must be because of how pretty you look…”.

the noises of the night fill the atmosphere between you two in this moment; mammon’s brain has stopped working and, honestly, you can’t blame him: saying that he’s taken aback by your remark would be a great understatement to describe the current situation.

the avatar of greed is feeling so many emotions in so little time — his heart is pounding stronger than ever, you can almost hear its soft sound, and a reassurance which he has never felt so intensely is hugging his chest. these sensations are something he would gladly immerse himself into, a new type of greed to add to his long and interminable list, a new need.

unfortunately, the clock is ticking and mammon doesn’t want you to see his true self, not in a moment so embarassing for him, not like this — though he would love to indulge in this sweet pleasure for a while longer.

“you— human! what are ya thinking, speaking like that to your first demon? ya sure are bold! i’ll close one eye for this time, so consider yourself lucky tonight, because the great mammon won’t be so gentle in the future!”

a quick laugh escapes from your lips and, before he can question it, you grab his jaw with one of your hands, so his eyes can only be directed towards you.

“mammon, sweetheart, drop the act. you are making a fool of yourself and, although you’d be so entertaining to watch right now, you need to realise that i love you, truly.”, your gaze softens and you smile at him, making his heart melt. “it’s okay to not understand why you are cared about — but i want you to know that you are important to me, so, so fcking much. we’re in this together — aren’t we? then, will you allow me to show why and how i’m going to love and take care of you, mh?”.

mammon remains still as you finish your speech; his unsteady breath, however, betrays him.

“[name], i… thank you”, he says, unsure on how to continue his response.

“talk your feelings out, if you feel like it. i’m not a judge here,” you reassure him.

his gaze shifts for a moment, symbolising his indecision, but then it returns to yours. “i’m… i am glad to have ya in my life, [name]. but, well, i suppose i have one request to make”.

your smile turns suddenly into a smirk, finally happy to see your boyfriend taking courage to express his feelings.

“yes, dear?”.

“be greedy with me,” he pauses, slowly breathing in and out to not mess up his next words. “indulge in my sin whenever you can, day by day, and don’t leave anything behind. spare nothing, let the greed take control over you, like i’ll do with you from now on”.

“oh now, now, who is the bold one?” you murmur, getting closer to him. “you’re extremely covetous, mammon, and this is one of the many things which i appreciate about you. i already made a pact with you, so i don’t see a problem with your request. i accept it”, and you kiss him, as if you’re sealing the deal.

who would have thought that one of the greatest demons of all the realms could feel such things for a human?

BARBATOS :

despite being barbatos’s partner, it’s not quite often that you’re invited over lord diavolo’s castle to spend time with two of the most powerful demons in the devildom. the reason why is actually pretty simple: your lover’s life is full of events to attend and favors to give. his presence is requested by every kind of beings, alongside his trusted services to the devildom’s prince, resulting in little to no space left for your meetings. the same can be said for you, since your school life isn’t exactly giving you energy to talk to him either — so you could say you two are fair.

this evening is different from the usual, since you were invited for dinner — a rare, but pleasant occasion to find yourself in. the one who has arranged it all is, nevertheless, lord diavolo himself: though he often acts oblivious of his requests, he has a keen eye for his butler’s mental state — so it would have been only a matter of time before he found out about barbatos’ single desire to relieve his stress… you.

using the “celebration” of your school achievements as an excuse, diavolo set up these hours in his magnificent mansion just for the two of you — saying that he’s attended elsewhere and oh so unfortunately he won’t be able to remain with you even for a while longer.

this is the premise of the current moment — you are quite literally squeezing your boyfriend, hugging him from behind, while he prepares his nightly skincare routine. he’s looking at himself in the mirror, dark green eyes are inspecting his state: his hands are on both sides of the sink, slightly supporting his robust and elegant figure; his torso is covered by a black tank top — something you’d rarely have the chance to see, considering barbatos’ extreme care for a professional appearance; his cold but soft skin seems bright, almost shining, under the tender lamp’s light.

his lips are smartly moving, giving life to his thoughts, however you are too focused on him to pay attention to his words.

“[name]?”

the sudden call of your name wakes you up, but only for a second.

“mh?”

his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “are you listening to me?”.

“mmh mh”, you nod, not registering his question at all, and continue to admire him in silence.

obviously, he’s completely aware of it — after all, he’s the demon who can see through both the past and future.

with a swift movement of his body, he turns to face you, making you cling to his waist.

with his right hand, he gently holds your chin between his fingers. “would you like, my love, to share your thoughts on the matter? you seem rather unfocused tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”.

you swallow, waiting for your confidence to come back. then, you try to give back the same energy of his — since you wouldn’t like to lose to his antics, not again.

“damn, i really can’t speak right now, huh? must be because of how pretty you look, barbatos. it’s actually not fair”.

although you don’t look nearly as self-assured as him, you regain a bit of your control when you notice a hint of hesitation and bewilderment on his face.

he scoffs, looking away from your eyes — and doing so makes it evident that his ears are bright red. you catch the opportunity right away, moving his hair away from the sensitive skin.

“ah! if only the others saw you, the formidable barbatos, right now! you wouldn’t be feared so much,” you teasingly comment, preparing for his next move.

“i wouldn’t be so daring if i were in your place, [name]”, barbatos remarks jokingly — but you can never be so sure when it comes to him: as proof you have his piercing gaze fixated on your face, which conveys a message that you couldn’t otherwise pick up.

“well- i guess i’ll make it up tomorrow! aren’t you tired? it’s been an exhausting day — let’s watch a movie!” you suddenly suggest, not resisting to his towering yet fascinating aura.

he sighs as you quickly evade from his arms, though he’s suppressing a smile.

barbatos supposes he can let one person to make fun of him.

[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #gn!reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #mammon x you #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #barbatos x reader

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quietlyimplode · 2 months ago

Text

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 14 - Left for dead

Warnings: attack, blood, violence, being jumped/being beaten

Word Count: 1.2k (gif not mine)

Summary: Maria and Clint sort out the mess that is Shield and Clint goes to make amends for not visiting Natasha.

Masterlist.

Whumptober Masterlist.

<3 thank you for the comments - I hope you know who you are. You all get a very big hug and/or a crisp high five. <3

Clint knocks twice.

Maria opens the door, rolling her eyes when she sees his offering.

“Really? Kung pow chicken?”

Clint waves it in front of her face.

“Fine, you can come in,” she concedes.

“How’d you go?”

Maria shrugs, closing the door behind them.

“I’ve been working with Fury, more so than before, and I like the way he operates. He’s methodical. We think we’re getting closer to a full list. He’s been working with the WSC, but I fear Thompson knows something is up.”

Clint nods.

“Coulson said the same thing, there’s been less debriefs and we haven’t been sent on any more missions. He said it’s because of Natasha’s intel, but I don’t think so.”

Maria opens the box and the smell infuses the room.

“God I’m hungry,” she sighs, “have you seen Natasha yet?”

Clint shakes his head, guiltily.

“I don’t have an answer. I don’t know what I want from her. I know what I want for her, but I don’t know what I want for me. How I fit.”

Quieter, he whispers, “I don’t know if I’m up to helping her.”

Maria throws a pen at him.

“You’re an idiot.”

Clint rubs the spot where the pen hit.

“Ow.”

“You’re an idiot,” she repeats.

“Of course you’re not up to helping her.”

The bluntness makes him stare at her.

“What I mean to say is, that no one is up to that task. Why do you think in AA it’s one day at a time? None of the problems that lead to the addiction can be solved overnight, none of the problems that have come from her trauma can be solved in a day, a week or a year. It’s never ending. So if you help? Even a little? It all adds up. Just be consistent. This will be long, but it's not forever.”

Clint eats thoughtfully.

Her words reverberate in his head, and hold a truth he hadn’t considered.

“Yeah.”

Standing Maria offers him a drink.

He accepts and sips it, looking at the paperwork she’s compiled.

“Shrike’s dirty?” he asks, surprised.

Maria nods.

“Yeah, that one surprised me too. I liked him.”

“How do you know?”

“Money,” she sighs.

“I hate this,” Clint replies, flipping through the pages.

“Better to have them out, rather than relying on them and getting us killed.”

“I know.”

There’s a mutual silence that envelops the room as both finish eating and start sorting evidence.

Fury furrows his brow.

The hologram on his left flickers, then his right, and finally the one in front of him.

“This is highly unorthodox,” the one in front of him frowns.

There’s a sense of unease, and Fury hopes that none of the people in front of him are in cahoots with the Russians.

It was unlikely, but not impossible.

He presents his evidence.

The pictures of Dreykov standing and shaking hands with Thompson, and the one where they’re sitting at a table seemingly in a meeting, feel particularly damning.

Maria had done a good job making the information simple and concise, explaining the impact on the Council and all it stood for.

They’d need their resources if they were to have any chance at deposing Thompson.

Fury finishes on the plan for quiet infiltration. That each member would just… disappear and be replaced, to serve as a warning; he hoped.

The woman seated for the Oceania region nods along. She also fills in some gaps.

“We’ve long since suspected there was a mole in SHIELD,” she announces. “I am willing to back your cause.”

“Seconded,” comes another voice.

“Your motion is passed. We will provide the munitions and men you have asked for. The Raft will be set up for interrogation and imprisonment.”

Fury nods, pleased.

This was a good play, and he would tell Maria as such.

“Be careful,” the faceless woman tells him.

“We will be in touch.”

Clint walks the familiar route to see Natasha. The bag of donuts in his hand is a peace offering for not seeing her the past week.

Guilt presses down on him for it, but the reprieve and recalibration of himself was needed.

Now set up with a therapist, again, he knows that he can do better because he can show up for her.

It’s not an excuse. It's a fact.

Sharon isn’t on watch and a man he doesn’t know waves him through.

Clint doesn’t like it, but he hasn’t been here enough lately to know all the guards on rotation.

He continues on, wondering how she’s going.

A week had probably felt like a lifetime.

Maria had checked in, so had Coulson, even Fury; their report visits were minimalistic because of the circumstances.

Maria had said she was quiet.

He hopes it’s been okay.

He rounds the last corner and finds her sitting on the floor staring straight ahead.

He would say that she’s meditating.

She doesn’t move as he comes into view, she doesn’t even acknowledge him.

He waves to open the door, but nothing happens.

He looks up to the camera and waves again, not wanting to go back to see what’s happened.

Natasha is watching now.

Sharp eyes look on as he holds up donuts and smiles.

Clint hears footsteps down the hall. Automatically, he turns and sees it is the guard from down the hall, another man with him.

“Hey,” Clint greets.

They don’t return it.

The first lengthens his baton, the second shoots a taser, hitting Clint in the chest.

Pain and electricity alights his body as he tips forward.

He watches as it happens with a detachment, unable to react except to drop the donuts.

Natasha moves to the glass.

They close on him quickly.

The baton hits him, first in the body, then in the legs.

The second man just using fists.

They hit hard. They hit fast.

The beating is rough. Clint feels his breath taken away between blows and he curls himself up into a ball.

If he can wait...

If he can get control of one of them...

A blow to the head distorts time, and pain, never ending pain, radiates out. White, hot, searing pain.

He can’t hear their yelling.

His nose is bleeding, blood in his throat.

Natasha, he thinks idly, they’re going after her.

He hazards a glance up and sees her pounding on the glass. Her lips are moving, knuckles split and bleeding as she tries to break it.

It’s no use, he wants to tell her, it’s too thick.

But still she tries.

There’s a break as one of the men pauses. Clint has enough wherewithal to grabthe baton and pull it towards him.

He knows his ribs are broken.

Probably his face too.

His arm maybe from protecting his body.

Still he tries.

But the next blow feels like a car hits him.

He yells out.

As he fades into darkness, all he sees is Natasha yelling and punching the glass, blood on the wall, blood on the floor.

#whumptober2024 #day 14 #left for dead #violence #Clint Barton fic #natasha romanoff #Clint Barton #clintasha #natasha romanoff fic #black widow #my fic #Clintasha fanfic #hawkeye #clintasha fanfiction #clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff #Maria hill #Maria hill fic #marvel fic #avengers fic

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littlejuicebox · 10 months ago

Text

Midwinter Carol 7 / The Interrogation

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.3K

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot "A Midwinter Carol."

Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur's Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of "A Midwinter Carol," Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover? Or will he ultimately fall victim to his pride and desire for power?

Preview:

Another surge of acid through his veins. Another healing potion. The Lord sits quietly next to Ani and watches the slow rise and fall of her breath as if in contemplation. Her fever finally broke not long ago. Her arm is still deteriorating. Astarion leans forward and brings his bloodied, cracked hand to gently stroke her cheek along that tiny patch of vitiligo. And then he lifts two fingers to his lips, kisses them, and presses those fingers against that same spot, thinking about how he used to kiss it morning and night.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore / Violence / PTSD / Astarion's past trauma

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE.

A/N: And here comes AA with some absolutely unhinged behavior.

-----

At first, Astarion hires Delilah for several hours at a time. Typically, a half day, but sometimes more.

It’s always the same experience.

He pays her to morph into a likeness of Eirianwen, based on sketches from the Baldur’s Gate Gazette and his own descriptions. She never gets the vitiligo quite right, but the Ascendant, in his desperation, will take what he can get.

In the beginning, he simply lays in bed as Delilah runs her fingers through his silver curls and hums. Sometimes he trances, sometimes he watches her without saying much at all.

For the first time since Ani left, he experiences uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep.

And the woman is smart enough to simply follow instructions and not pry. At least at the start..

Eventually, Astarion has Delilah make private calls to the Palace. He pays a ridiculous amount of gold for this, but it’s no matter.

Most nights, she’s still a glorified sleep aid; other nights, he becomes more physical. But the voice and the vitiligo are wrong every time, and it takes weeks before he’s able to fully commit to the act. Even then, something feels not quite right. But it’s as close as he can get.

And then finally, several months after their peculiar agreement first began, Astarion, after far too many bottles of wine, reveals he’s a vampire to the shapeshifter.

“As in a true, blood-sucking vampire?” Delilah asks, eyebrows furrowed as she assesses the Lord. It’s a rare moment in which she’s in her own chosen form, rather than the likeness of Ani that he pays her for.

“Something like that,” He laughs, though it comes out quite wry, “I can drink blood; I no longer need to for survival.”

“Show me,” She responds, her curiosity getting the better of her. Delilah is wholly aware she is flirting with danger, but she’s never been one to shy away from an opportunity, especially one that comes with the allure of money or power.

Astarion stares at her for a long while, finishing off the final bits of his goblet, his thoughts entirely imperceptible. He taps his cup with his index finger as he tilts his head and watches the woman. She thinks he’s going to reject her request.

And then, surprisingly, he nods, “Very well. But you must morph, first.”

Delilah obliges, and at first the Lord brushes her hair from her neck and moves to sink his fangs there. But he retracts at the last moment, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

It’s not really Ani, he reminds himself.

After a brief pause and a sharp inhale, Astarion takes her hand and turns it, finding the pulse point on her wrist. He keeps his eyes locked onto the distorted appearance of his ex-lover as he bites into the changeling’s flesh.

And what a terrible decision that was. He’d just invited a devil onto his shoulder and a snake into his bed.

The constant bashing of Astarion’s fists sounds like a poorly played drum as he repeatedly swings into Edmund’s hanging body. The human is strung up by his arms in the office, dangling so that his toes barely brush the white marble floor.

The bastard is annoyingly sturdy, and manages to stifle most of his grunts as the Ascendant continues his torment. This only angers Astarion further, and he begins to hit harder, now intentionally aiming for the man’s face every time and splattering dots of crimson around the room.

Great. He will have to call the servants into his private office to scrub the floor and walls. He might have to replace the curtains.

It’s clear that whoever turned this vampire has conditioned him quite well. It’s been an hour of repeated strikes and the human seems nowhere near his breaking point.

Between the physical exertion of pummeling Edmund and the draining effects of his ring as Eirianwen continues to burn the poison through her system in the next room over, Astarion is beginning to tire. He is sure he must escalate his methods to rip any information from Edmund, but he refuses to give the spawn a single break in his torment.

So he barks an order at one of his own spawn standing guard not far behind him, “Thrak! Continue where I’ve left off. I have more important things to attend to than beating this disgusting vermin.”

A final blow to Edmund’s face and then Astarion spins on his heels with a sneer, flicking his hand up to examine his cracked knuckles and bloodied nails in distaste.

Thrak is a large half-orc with slashes running vertically down his chin. The marks are an intentional, cultural scarification, Astarion is told; his sister, Melga, has the same ones.

Astarion focuses his eyes on Melga, where she is now watching her brother assault Edmund with mild interest. A few gestures of his hands, and the Vampire Lord communicates to the female orc that he wants to be informed if Edmund breaks.

Melga quickly gestures her understanding. Astarion is not fluent in the sign language Thrak and Melga speak; it appears to be a mixture of Thieves Speak and something else he does not recognize. Perhaps they made it up themselves. But over the years, he has learned enough to get by and Thrak has always willingly worked as the translator.

When the Ascendant first offered immortality to Thrak, the half-orc indicated he and his sister were a two for one deal. He would change with his sister or not at all; he hoped vampirism would restore the hearing she lost as a child. And the Ascendant, still thinking himself better than Cazador in that he did not change people against their will, agreed.

Unfortunately, there are some conditions vampirism cannot fix.

Jaheira took leave to return home and check in on her wards. The druid indicated she needed to delve into her medicinal stores and confer with Halsin on the matter of Eirianwen’s affliction.

Mention of the wood elf’s name instantly caused Astarion to bristle. If Halsin had a solution, it would not be the first time the oversized elf helped Eirianwen in a way the vampire could not. The Ascendant is quite sure he loathes that man more than any of his other former campmates; he idly thinks it’s a bit of a shame it’s Edmund instead of Halsin strung up next door.

Astarion leans forward and brings his bloodied, cracked hand to gently stroke her cheek along that tiny patch of vitiligo. And then he lifts two fingers to his lips, kisses them, and presses those fingers against that same spot, thinking about how he used to kiss it morning and night.

Thrak continues to pound his massive fists into the foreign spawn next door, and now the Ascendant can hear the sounds of Edmund's resilience breaking. The pained grunts and sobs are music to his ears, and he smiles in sadistic delight at the spawn’s suffering as he simply lounges in his chair, continuing to watch the sorceress breathe.

“We’ll figure this out, little love.” He whispers before he brings his hands together as if in prayer and analyzes the cries of agony from the next room.

Not long now.

He’s on the freezing marble floor. Cazador is straddled over him, pinning Astarion’s arms down with his knees. They’re in the spawn dormitory, in front of all his brothers and sisters. No one steps in to help him.

In the end, it’s all about self-preservation, isn’t it?

His master yanks at his silver curls and bends so close to Astarion’s face he can feel Cazador’s hot, disgusting breath on his skin.

“Where is it?!” The older vampire questions, pulling Astarion’s hair with vitriol and forcing a pained wail out of the spawn, “Where did you hide it?!”

“H-hide what? Master! Please, I don’t know what you’re–”

A solid strike to Astarion’s face causes him to stop his defenses mid-sentence.

“Petras! Leon! Bring me a barrel of water, rags, and a pillow case.” Cazador orders coolly, as his eyes briefly flicker to the elf’s siblings. The two other spawn quickly run to retrieve the requested items for their enraged Master.

“You traitorous leech. Where is it?” Cazador asks through gritted teeth, gripping Astarion’s chin so tightly he is convinced the bones in his jaw are cracking under the force.

He doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know where it is. If Astarion knew, he would’ve already spilled all his secrets. It never takes this much to rip a confession out of the elf nowadays.

He’s stunned into silence, staring wide-eyed at the older vampire, unsure what to do or say to make this interrogation stop.

Nothing. There’s nothing he can do or say. Astarion knows it and the thought fills him with dread.

Cazador growls and spits in the elf’s face before shoving a cloth in Astarion’s mouth and completely shrouding him in darkness with the pillowcase. Leon and Petras are instructed to hold the elf’s limbs as he emits gagged screams of anguish. He tries to break away from his brothers, but it’s to no avail.

He was always one of the weaker spawn.

Astarion’s screaming is stifled by a shock of icy water filling his nose and throat as Cazador begins to waterboard him. He doesn’t need to breathe, but the sensation alone is terrifying. The silver-haired spawn continues to thrash against his siblings as their Master enacts his violent punishment. It feels like it goes on forever. The entire barrel is emptied over him before Cazador stops.

Astarion knew it was mostly for show. Cazador often made an example out of him to deter anyone else from committing the same act he was blamed for.

In the end, Astarion was thrown into the kennels for further torture. He never truly knew what it was, though he suspects he found it much later.

The Ascendant is straddled over Edmund as Thrak and Melga hold onto the foreign spawn’s bound limbs. Long, pale fingers grip the vermin’s jaw, prying it open with nearly enough force to rip the mandible from its joint.

“Last chance. Who is your master?” Astarion asks, tone low and coming across as far too bored for the violence that has recently ensued within this room. He’s watching Edmund with expectant, cold eyes.

“Fuck you!” Edmund responds in a venomous hiss, glaring up at the Vampire Lord with what little expression in his face he has left after the hours of repeated blows.

“Wrong answer.” The elf sighs, and then he procures a spoon from his pocket and forces it into the spawn’s mouth.

Astarion chuckles sadistically as Edmund begins to thrash and twist against the half-orcs. The spoon is quickly wedged underneath the spawn’s gumline, and the Ascendant begins to slowly pry out the traitor’s left fang, grinning all the while.

He could do this much faster, of course, but what’s the fun in that? The bastard deserves to suffer.

The bastard deserves to die. And he will. Just not yet.

First, Astarion gets to have his fun. A chance for him to make someone bleed was a rare, delectable thing nowadays. The temptation was difficult for the Ascendant to resist.

Edmund is screaming now, flailing around in agony and fighting for an out. But it isn’t going to work; three on one is never truly a fair fight.

Especially as a starved spawn.

“WHO. IS. YOUR. MASTER?” Astarion bellows over the tortured, terrified wails of the spawn. His curls are falling out of place, dangling in front of his narrowed scarlet eyes and obscuring parts of his vision as he continues to slowly peel fang from flesh, undeterred by the useless, pitiful crying and bucking underneath him.

Eventually the left fang pops out with a spatter of blood across Astarion’s hand and he scoffs in disdain before cleaning his hand on Edmund’s barely recognizable, heavily swollen face.

Disgusting vermin.

“FUCK YOU!” Edmund screams, but his voice cracks at the end and he is no longer able to hold in the tears rolling out of two swollen sockets.

Astarion tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as if disappointed. Then he sighs a long, belabored breath as he rolls his eyes at the spawn, “You are strong, Edmund, I must admit. But what you have in brawn, you certainly lack in brains, don’t you?”

And then the Ascendant abruptly plunges the spoon into the human’s gum line just above his right fang. Edmund jerks his head at the last moment and the dull instrument slices against his mouth and tongue, still causing a laceration due to the amount of force Astarion is using on the manufactured weapon.

Blood quickly pools in Edmund’s mouth and he spits it at the silver-haired elf in a final act of defiance.

The switch is instantly flipped.

Astarion’s face contorts with pure, unfiltered hate. His heart starts pounding in rapid fire. Whatever modicum of control he had over his violent desires instantly slips from his hands as his grip around the spoon tightens.

He doesn’t realize he’s wrapping his hand around the spawn’s neck and crushing it with the full force of his Ascendant power. He cannot think past his red, blinding rage as he’s stabbing into Edmund’s chest with the blunted instrument.

He pierces through the spawn’s flesh over and over and over and over.

When the Ascendant finally gains control of his senses, the first thing he sees is Edmund’s mangled body beneath him and his hands coated in scarlet. The first thing he hears, however, is a woman’s scream ripping through the office.

When Astarion jerks his head toward the source, he sees Ani standing in the doorway, both hands clasped over her mouth.

He hates what he sees.

Terror. Pure terror.

She’s terrified of him. And she runs.

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