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strelles-universe · 1 month ago

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Spark the Light - Chapter 4: A Reunion of a Sort

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The Outpost was a nice enough place - on the side of a taller hill a den had been dug-out and the inside reinforced with thick sticks and long-dried mud. It was something of a miniature camp, with a few hollows dug out into the ground filled with moss, sheep’s wool and feathers to create cozy nests insulated from the chill. Quietpaw explained that most escorts slept outside their camp once they’d been assigned to an Outpost and during the snow-season, it was far too cold to attempt to sleep under the stars.

Quietpaw woke them at dawn, proudly offering them a rabbit and a few field mice she’d caught on her own. She’d already eaten her fill of the rabbit, so she just sat to the side while telling them of how she’d snagged the creature from a Shorerisen patrol attempting to hunt in the uplands. The molly seemed deeply satisfied with how much they were struggling just to adapt to hunting on bone-dry land, mocking their efforts all the while.

“I don’t even know why they’re trying,” she crowed with self-satisfaction. “They’d get better results fishing stars from a puddle!”

When they were done, Quietpaw led them a few fox-lengths away to discard the remains into a pit of already ransacked bones (“Keeps the scavengers from taking an interest in the outposts”) before she led them onward toward the territory limits. Though she didn’t hesitate, Cardinalpaw watched her shiver a little the second they stepped truly outside of Empire territory, Jackdawstripe having a similar reaction.

Well, Empire moggi don’t leave Empire territory often, Cardinalpaw reasoned to himself. The stories the historians tell make it sound like every inch of grass and plot of trees outside their territory is just teeming with evil spirits.

It felt very brave of them to venture out of their comfort zone for the Gales. Cardinalfire didn't say anything with words, he just… trotted forward and fell into step beside Quietpaw. He hadn't left the canopy many times before now either, he could fully admit that but traveling to the Devourer's Chest and visiting the more fringe farms back home offered him a bit more confidence than his friends had.

Even though he had wordlessly taken the lead, Quietpaw's knowledge of her faction was invaluable. Every time Cardinalfire and Jackdawstripe stumbled, unable to find any sort of lead, the escort cadet would look around and call things out - faint pawprints hidden among wild rabbit burrows, disturbed land from various prey buried and even the scattered remains of mud nests near thistles holding tiny tufts of fur. He was amazed and Jackdawstripe had told her as such.

“This is nothing,” the molly dismissed, flicking one of her long ears. She puffed up as she explained, “We Escorts have to be sensitive to any signs that someone could be squatting on our territory. The stalkers will deny it, but we're the best trackers on the moor.”

“You're telling me,” Jackdawstripe said with wonder, sniffing at a patch of upturned earth hidden among a thick sea of dull colored grass that seemed to be from a fumbled hunting expedition. “Any cat can track a rabbit but I've only heard about some of this stuff from the buckers…”

The molly purred smugly at the comparison.

It went on like that for a few more days - one of them waking early to hunt for the others, searching for signs and carefully attempting to avoid conflict with other creatures in the area.

The upbeat mood didn't last long though - on their third day out of Empire territory, they found it. Their first grave. It was sobering to remember what this trip was about, what the Gales had been fleeing. It had been small, easily overlooked but Quietpaw had noticed the lavender stems laying over top, pressed into the earth by mud with a pair of totems on either side; guarding whoever rested within. Cardinalfire could practically taste the devastation in Quietpaw as she tried to control her grief.

“...and I probably won't ever know who's buried there,” she said, pained.

It was then as they turned away from the burial place that Cardinalfire remembered that Quietpaw had a brother.

The graves became more frequent - large ones for fully trained legionaries and small ones for starved and scrawny cadets. Tiny totems guarding each of the places where a member of the Gales couldn't press onward and their faction had solemnly honored their efforts. The worst was a little grove of them, tiny flecks of blood and a few caught tufts betraying the tragedy the moor cats had been forced to live through.

By the time they stumbled upon a heavily scented trail, Cardinalfire was emotionally drained.

“...seems they sought refuge with the packs,” Cardinalfire said, trying to instill some bravery into the two bristled cats beside him.

“Yeah,” said Quietpaw stiffly.

“They must have hoped that anything that would come for them out here would be scared off by the dogs,” Jackdawstripe theorized, evidently trying to see more confident than he was.

“And it’s almost dahiim so the Skulks have already moved on,” Quietpaw murmured, lashing her tail with open discomfort. To her credit though, she said nothing further about it and merely crossed the scent-border, the determination to recover her faction overwhelming any discomfort she felt.

“These are getting more common,” Cardinalfire said grimly, sniffing at another obvious trail - more blood spatters and tufts of fur. This time though, he could smell a musky sort of scent paired with long, thin paw-prints almost like a massive squirrel had run through. Except if it were a squirrel, it was walking around on its forepaws. A patch of brown-ish fur confirmed it. “Ugh… weasels. Better be careful. Explains why hardly any bandits come from this area thought.”

“If this is a weasel-infested land, nothing here is worth staying,” Quietpaw agreed. “Stay quiet and away from holes.”

They walked in near complete silence, reverting to gestures and motions to various clues and hints as to the location of the missing faction as the sun steadily sank beneath the horizon. Their shadows stretched long behind them and they grew tenser by the moment, the legionaries carefully inspecting every bush.

We’re traveling in a group, Cardinalfire tried to reassure himself. Weasels don’t usually attack large prey in groups.

Except, he remembered too late, older weasels who’ve seen what the snowy-season has to offer and still have their siblings around.

One of the reasons fighting weasels was such a horrible experience was how nimble they were, twisting almost endlessly away from Cardinalfire’s frantic jaws. He tried dropping to the ground to throw it off, lashing out with his claws at the tiny beast’s face - its ears were tiny and rounded, laying close to the creature’s head making it harder to capture. Jackdawstripe lunged himself, angling to grasp the creature by the tail only to earn a louder, indignant shriek as the weasel attacked again.

Tiny bites sank into his fur, drawing blood from various locations of his skin.

“Cardinal! Passing a spark!”

Passing- right!

At the same time the thought crossed his mind, the agonized howling of a startled weasel echoed through the air as a warm and comforting current flowed through his body. All too soon - for the tiny predators anyway - the scent of thoroughly charred meat filled the air and the teeth sunk deep into his shoulder, trying to claw its way around to pinch his spine fell away with a soft thump onto the ground. The short furred creature twitched painfully on the ground and Cardinalfire didn’t even spare it a passing flicker of mercy before he lunged, crunching through its neck.

He rolled to his paws, the second weasel that had gone for him flopping to the ground having been overwhelmed by the current buzzing through its muscles. Cardinalfire looked up in time to witness Quietpaw gripping her own attacker by the tail, spinning shortly then yanking her head to slam the creature against a nearby rock. A sickening crunch rung out as blood smeared the stone and Quietpaw dropped the now dead beast.

The three of them panted for a long moment exchanging equally weary glances. Quietpaw caught his gaze and Cardinalfire took the chance to glance between the weasel discarded on the ground and the molly herself.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbled, shaking out her short coat. “Weasels are the biggest prey-thieves on the moor. And they always target the outposts because there’s less of us than in camp.”

“Bit like us and raccoons then,” Jackdawstripe snorted.

“Every faction has their own thieving bastards,” Quietpaw agreed, glancing towards Cardinalfire inquisitively.

“White gulls,” he agreed. “They’re supposed to stay on the coasts but the bastards try to devour anything and everything given the chance. They’re so annoying - especially when we have ducklings.”

Jackdawstripe snickered at whatever mental image he’d formed in his head as Quietpaw smirked a little and led them on once more. They didn’t go too far, the scent of canine growing stronger as they left the clearing of dead weasels not wanting to risk being accused of poaching within pack-territory of all places. Their newly acquired wounds stung, twinging with every step they took deeper into these uncharted lands and it was without speaking that they began seeking a decently place to rest for the night.

Pushing through another series of tangled bracken, they came upon a little tucked away den. It was surrounded by thorny bushes, pressed halfway into the side of a rock wall that turned into a series of ledges. More importantly, was the collection of still mostly fully assembled mossy nests that carried a familiar scent.

“Gales,” Quietpaw breathed with awe. “It’s stale but it’s there.”

“They must have stayed for a while,” Jackdawstripe agreed, his ears flattened nervously against his head. “It looks nice - I wonder why they had to leave.”

“Well, it’s too late to keep walking,” Cardinalfire pointed out to them both. “There’s hardly any trees out here - if we keep going, there’s a chance we run across an owl. Or worse, one of the pack-centers without the aid of sunlight.”

Both of his friend shuddered at the idea of coming across a dog in the dead of night while technically trespassing in pack territory.

“...well it doesn’t smell like fear,” Jackdawstripe sighed, reluctantly stepping inside and padding towards one of the largest nests near the back of the den overhang. The dark gray tom nervously turned in circles a few times, settling down against the farthest wall of the nest, leaving plenty of space for both Quietpaw and Cardinalfire to join him. The ruddy tom led the way towards his best friend, climbing in without hesitation and snuggling against Jackdawstripe’s belly. Quietpaw loitered on the outside of the nest for a moment before stepping over the border to settle in with them. Jackdawstripe wrapped his large, fluffy tail around them both in a comforting manner. “So they must have left for their own reasons.”

“I can’t wait until we find them all,” Quietpaw mumbled. “Then I can go home, sleep in my own nest without any smell of dog.”

| | | |

“More cats? By the Howls, what is happening in that forest…”

Cardinalfire’s eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice and even less familiar sights and smells around him, landing on a pair of large but dull-clawed gray paws directly in his vision. He moved his gaze up the powerfully shaped canine’s form and to the dog’s face, a dark gray mask around serious hazel eyes. Standing just to her hocks was a brown-furred wolf, with an obviously pregnant belly, leaning against who Cardinalfire could only assume was her mate watching the sleeping cats with stress.

He lashed out with his hindleg, making Jackdawstripe grunt and fumble into sitting up visibly confused which bothered Quietpaw into waking as well. Both cats yelped, reflexively scrambling behind Cardinalfire who sleepily stood up as his lessons kicked back in. His mother’s voice whispered in his head - hold his tail up but keep the tip loose, point his ears forward and attentive but his whiskers have to remain relaxed. Skies, did he have enough time to groom the mess that was his coat? No they were looking at him already, he had to hope that he could look presentable enough without it.

“My apologies for trespassing in your territory,” he told the dogs, dipping his head in the regal way he remembered his mother doing. “I am Cardinalfire and this is Jackdawstripe, we are members of the Stormborn sent to accompany Quietpaw of the Galespun in an effort to recover one of the lost factions.”

The she-dog returned his greeting with a light nod of her own, “Intato-ru, cats of the Empire - I called Kindred, one of the alphas of the Caladamel - may I request that you remove yourself from the birthing den for the sake of my pack-mate?”

“Of course,” Cardinalfire said, quickly moving to leave the nest with his friends. The pregnant dog didn’t even wait for them to fully clear the den, her mate helping her limp over into the nest as quickly as she could move. As soon as she was properly inside, she sank down into the warm moss with heavy, relieved sigh while her partner fussed, licking worriedly at her muzzle.

“You said you came for the cats of the moor?” the alpha, Kindred inquired as she began walking. Cardinalfire took the silent hint for what it was, leading his much more petrified friends after the commanding canid. “That is good - they came to us bleeding and hungered, hiding within the birthing den as well. Their alpha reported cruelty committed against his republic by a tyrant leading another and claimed to have been driven out?”

“That is correct,” said Quietpaw when Cardinalfire nudged her a little. “A tyrant leader led his faction to war against mine - luckily with help from the other factions, we were able to drive him and his loyalists out.”

“A joyous day that must have been,” the she-wolf said, her voice ringing with what Cardinalfire assumes is approval. Not that he expected much else - the Republic of Courage was all about honor and strength from what he remembers of his lessons. They took losses surprisingly well and approached victory with the sort of grace that made other winners look embarrassing and uncouth. They believed that all lifeforms had a certain sense of pride and propriety that they were due and to see the Gales stripped of it must have rankled them.

When Quietpaw had finished filling her in on what had happened to lead the Gales to where they were, Cardinalfire took the opportunity to warn the pack of the weasel bodies laying in their territory - to which the alpha thanked them for not poaching, sounding pleased as she noted aloud that she'd be sending a group of scouts to collect their efforts.

Before they knew it the she-wolf had brought them to a mostly abandoned looking area of rocks and crunchy grass, her short nails clicking against the stone. Cardinalfire almost asked where they were when Kindred stopped walking.

“Here is where me and my fellow alpha agreed to allow the cats of the moor to rest,” she announced, pointing her muzzle in the direction of small, cat-sized hole in the side of the cliff that would likely lead into a cave. “This is where I leave you cats of the forest. I have duties to attend to though I do hope your song remains powerful and true.”

Cardinalfire thanked her quickly as Quietpaw perked up.

“I will send a scout to escort you all to the border,” she added, beginning to slip away. “Farewell pups of the Great Forest.”

Quietpaw darted forward the moment she’d left, leaving Cardinalfire and Jackdawstripe to take a moment to pluck up their courage to enter the dark and ominous looking cavern. She was kneading the ground impatient when they followed her in, turning and marching swiftly the moment they crossed the border. The ground was hard and cold, sheltered from the sun allowing the semi-damp stones to leech the warm from the bodies. Thin layers of moss created a slick covering in the cavern, tiny bits and shards of rock sticking out and pricking their paws with every step they took. It only took a few moment for Cardinalfire to be hissing with annoyance, his paws complaining with every instance he had to shake the debris clear.

Ugh, he thought to himself with disdain. He missed his home-den more than ever - even the Stormborn dens weren’t so craggy.

Still, the miserable scent of nervous cats filled his mouth as they padded deeper into the tunnel. He was also most surprised by how deep they’d gone inside - the stories his dad had told him about Galepsun cats was an overall hatred of being hidden away from the sky, reporting that even their digging cats slept under the starry expanse above them whenever possible.

Jackdawstripe’s pelt brushed against his, the gray tom had been growing more and more visibly uncomfortable the longer they spent in pack territory and being underground was seemingly taking whatever remained of his courage. Cardinalfire understood - the protective shelter of the forest canopy guarding both the Stormborn and the Sun Regency from the elements was a completely different sensation to the cold, damp tunnel walls closing in on them from all directions that only allowed sparing bits of sunlight to grace them through the occasional deep crack.

It was almost too dark to see anything, and the last time the Galespun had been approached by another faction it had been a hostile take over. For all they knew, the cats of the moor could be surrounding them as they approached while the tunnel carried their scents away from the retrieval patrol.

When Quietpaw stopped, so did both toms as the suffocating tunnels opened up into a much wider clearing where one of those deep cracks that allowed a thin ray of sunlight the partially illuminate the cavern. The silhouette of cats - a whole faction’s worth of cats - remained crouched just on the edge of the light, half-starved bodies bristled in a defensive manner while their eyes flashed in the limited amount of light. A low growl filled the cavern, echoing loudly off the walls in a frankly terrifying fashion even as the fallen faction pushed their weaker cats behind them.

Why are they growling? He wondered, frazzled. Didn’t they recognize Quietpaw? Of course, the moment the thought crossed his mind, the answer followed. It was possible that… they didn’t. Moons had passed since they’d been chased from their home and glancing back at Quietpaw… well, she didn’t really look the part of a paw anymore. Unlike her faction, she’d received regular meals while hiding among the Stormborn so she was still at a healthy weight, her pelt glossy and clean compared to theirs which were smeared with earth. She had grown into her long slender legs and the large, swooping ears that rested upon her head all of her features having thoroughly matured into that of an adult.

Worse, she’d spent all of her time among the Stormborn - she probably didn’t even smell like them anymore.

Just as he broke his own heart with that train of thought, the cats began shuffling moving and shifting as something pushed their way through the throng. At first, Cardinalfire assumed it would be Magpietail and he perked up straining to see if he could spot that signature tail of his.

Instead, a long-legged ginger tom with white paws and a white tail jumped out panting, locking yellow eyes on their friend.

Quietpaw’s eyes pricked with tears, “Swallowtailpaw?”

He released a laugh of joy, “It’s Swallowtailstride now, sister.”

Cardinalfire couldn’t stop his own smile as his friend broke down in grateful tears while the rest of her faction raced forward to greet her.

#strelles au #fanfiction #fanfic #warrior cats fanfic #spark the light chapters #strelles cardinalfire #strelles jackdawstripe #strelles quietpaw #strelles swallowtailstride #blood

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ilikereadingactually · 5 months ago

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The Witchstone

The Witchstone by Henry H. Neff

this book is such a charmer! fast-paced, funny, emotional without being devastating, and i unwittingly picked it to read while on a family vacay in the Catskills, very near the area where part of the story is set. a really compelling and satisfying read!

as may be clear from my reading history, i always love a charming devil, and the demon Laszlo is a prime example of the species. he's a smooth talker, a gadabout, glowing when he succeeds and hilarious when he fails—and he's got one of those secret soft hearts essential to a good hopeful story. he shares the spotlight with Maggie, the human bearer of the monstrous curse Laszlo is supposed to be in charge of, brilliant and badass in extremely relatable ways, determined and clever and loyal! and little brother Lump, who is just precious, and in my mind looks like a ten-year-old Elton John, rounds out a perfect trio for rollicking adventure.

this story is so well-paced, and so carefully wrought, imo! it's just predictable enough to be intensely compelling and satisfying; it's just touching enough to make me cry a little; there are just enough twists and turns to keep me guessing, and it ends with much-awaited triumph that really soared. for me it never tips too far over into its tropes, and always takes itself just seriously enough. on reflection i think this is partly because of the excellent character development, but also there were moments in here that truly surprised me, despite the structure of the story being a very familiar one.

truly a hidden gem, and i hope Neff is planning a sequel!

the deets

how i read it: an egalley from NetGalley. i am once again way behind, but i'm determined to catch up this month.

try this if you: enjoy whirlwind magical capers, love a non-romantic lead duo, find demonic bureaucracy deeply entertaining, or just like to see everyone get what's coming to them in good ways and bad!

some bits i really liked: i laughed so much reading this book

"Clarence, have you been crying?" The shark nodded and fumbled in his waistcoat for a handkerchief. As Clarence blew his snout, Laszlo could not help but admire his colleague's wristwatch, a vintage Breguet. ... The demon began to hyperventilate. Laszlo reached out a hand to steady him. "You're a good Keeper, Clarence. I know that. You know that. Most importantly, they know that." Clarence could only nod. Tears were welling up. Laszlo clasped the shark's moist and spongy hands between his own. He patted his colleague's wrist. ... "Meeting?" said Laszlo. "What time?" "Ten minutes ago." He consulted his new watch. "You're joking." "I'm not. And where did you get that?" Laszlo shoved the Breguet in his pocket. "Estate sale."

___

"That was diplomacy," Laszlo said with a sniff. ... "Face it, Your Highness, I'm the MVP of this squad. Without me, you'd be fixing butter churns back in Stinkerball." "Schemerdaal." "Whatever." Laszlo braced for another volley, but none came. Instead, Maggie merely sat quietly beside him and fiddled with her sleeve. "You're right," she finally said. "Without your help, we wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't be any closer to breaking the curse. I was wrong to say you're incompetent. Thank you." Laszlo swallowed the retort he had at the ready and checked his phone instead.

___

A glint appeared in the ageless eyes. "You are loyal." Maggie sighed. "I suppose I am. Sometimes I wish I wasn't." "Loyalty is an admirable quality," said the Signora. She looked at Lump, and her demeanor softened. "Those glasses are fabulous—where did you get them?" Lump cleared his throat. "Milan."

pub date: June 18, 2024! Go get it, it's out!

#books and reading #booklr #bookblr #book recs #book reviews #queer sff #the witchstone #henry h neff

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secret-third-thing · 1 year ago

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Fictional Part 3/3

A massive thank you to @azrielshadowssing for putting the Acotar Writing Circle together! I had so much fun and met so many lovely writers. Congrats to everyone involved!

Here's part three of Fictional, started by @mercarimari and continued by @rosanna-writer! This was a lot of fun (and a bit cathartic) to write! Hope you enjoy! 💕

Be sure to check out Part One and Part Two FIRST! My part (part 3) is under the cut!

Summary: Nesta has always hidden herself in books. Most if not all of her real life relationships had ended in fire and chaos. She was an expert in self destruction after all. But when a birthday gift from her sister brings a touch of magic to the world, and a piece of fiction into her reality--- Could things really change for the better?

🚨 Warning: Smut ahead. Also, mental health struggles. 🚨

When they entered Nesta's apartment, she didn't bother turning on the lights. After fucking so many men, she had memorized the way through her kitchen, how to avoid the couch. And if they made it to her bedroom, Nesta already knew how many steps it took to reach her bed.

But tonight, Nesta didn't have the patience to make it to her bedroom. In the cab ride home, she had all but climbed onto Cassian to continue kissing him. However, the driver insisted that Nesta take her seat for safety reasons. Instead, she had to settle for Cassian's teasing touch as he rubbed her thigh, skimming his thumb under the hem of her dress. He bore an infuriating smirk as Nesta squirmed in her seat.

So the moment they were alone, Nesta grabbed Cassian's face to continue the devastating kiss from before. He had chuckled then, the bastard, letting her bite his lower lip and take control. It was exasperating how willing he was, how he easily met Nesta's challenge. She was used to men insisting she submit, sometimes grabbing her and forcing her to her knees. And how eagerly she obliged, like some wanton slut.

But Cassian wasn't shoving her down or pulling at her hair. Instead, he had her pinned against the kitchen counter, the cold granite biting into her thighs. His kisses turned lazy and teasing again, moving across her cheek and jaw until he was by her ear.

"You like this, Nes?" he asked. His breath sent shivers down her spine.

"You fucking tease," She hissed, spreading her legs and wrapping them around him, pulling him toward her so that the front of his pants were pressed against her soaked underwear. Cassian groaned at this, rolling his hips against her. Nesta bit back a whimper and ran a hand up his chest.

"Go on and fuck me already," she said, pulling his jacket off him and tossing it to the floor. She reached for his pants next, fumbling with the button. Cassian clasped a large hand over hers and pulled it to his lips.

"Not here," he said, pressing soft kisses against her wrist. "I want you on your bed."

Nesta shivered at this and swallowed hard. She could imagine him behind her, hair in his fist as he railed into her from behind.

"Fine," she said, biting her lip. Cassian wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips once more, lifting her from the counter and taking her to her room.

Cassian placed her on the bed with too much gentleness. Nesta locked eyes with him for a moment, the passion in his face giving way to something far softer. He climbed over her and stroked her face, thumb softly running across her flushed cheeks and lips.

It made something in Nesta churn, the tenderness eating away at her. So she took his thumb into her mouth. Cassian's eyes widened briefly before he groaned as Nesta began to lick across the top of his thumb. She smiled and sucked it deeper into her mouth, watching how Cassian was palming himself through his pants. At last, he pulled away to unbutton the denim.

Nesta eagerly crawled to him and grasped him through his underwear. He was impossibly hard and very thick. She wondered how it would feel to have him pounding into her, to feel him stretch her so wide she would break.

Nesta looked up and squeezed Cassian. He let out a sharp exhale and flexed his hand.

"You sure about this, sweetheart?" he said, meeting her gaze. His voice was low and filled with promise.

"Shut up," she said, pulling his length from his boxers. Her mouth went dry. She hadn't realized just how big Cassian was. His cock was thick with veins running along the underside and so thick that Nesta could barely hold him in one hand. She let go for a second and watched Cassian's cock bounce against his toned stomach. Carefully, Nesta took him in hand again and pumped him once, admiring the bead of precum welling at the tip of his angry, red head.

Cassian watched her, eyes glazed and swallowing as she experimented with him, squeezing and pulling at his length. She knew it was torment, looking up at him with a saccharine smile. She didn't break her gaze as she paused to run her thumb over him, smearing the bead of precum against the silky head of his cock. Cassian's breath hitched, eyes rolling back into his head as Nesta worked him.

Nesta chose to take him into his mouth then, pressing forward until her nose brushed his pubic bone. Cassian let out a guttural moan and grasped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair.

"Fuck, Nes," he started, "you don't have to-," but Nesta ignored him and began bobbing her head. She hummed, memorizing the flecks in Cassian's eyes. Watching him, watching her.

They stayed like this, Nesta tormenting Cassian with her mouth as he twitched and groaned under her touch. She saw the telltale sign of his oncoming orgasm, the rippling of his abdomen, the twitching of his cock. Nesta took his balls into her hand and rolled them gently in her palm. At this, Cassian pulled her head off without warning. A line of saliva still connected them.

"On the bed," he ordered in a low voice.

Nesta didn't budge, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She flicked her eyes between his face and his cock. Cassian's eyes darkened.

"I said, on the bed." He whipped her around and bent her over, pushing her face into the mattress and pulling her short dress over her ass. He kicked her legs apart and wasted no time pulling her panties aside and pushing his cock into her.

Nesta yelped and gripped the sheets. She felt so full, unable to help how her cunt spasmed around him. And yet Cassian kept pressing in and in and in.

She arched her back further to coax more of him into her. And as he pressed forward, so agonizingly slow, he rubbed the curve of her ass before reaching down to spread her so he could watch himself press himself in the rest of the way.

"You look so good," he said, tracing a finger around her rear entrance until he was buried in her cunt. He pulled out a bit and pushed himself back in until he was as deep as he could go. "And you take my cock so well."

Nesta whimpered at his praise and rolled her hips, chasing the friction he was denying her by waiting. She took deep breaths against the bedsheets, feeling exposed as Cassian waited behind her, watching her stretch, teasing her with his finger.

She was sure she would lose her mind when he finally grabbed her hips to stop her and set the pace.

"Please," she moaned as he slid in and out of her, too slow for her to chase any kind of release.

"Hm?" Cassian teased. He pulled out, leaving only the head of him at her entrance. "What do you want, Nesta?" He reached around her to lazily rub circles against her clit.

"Move. Please. I-" Nesta ground out. Her hands clawed at the white bedsheets. She couldn't get the words out. Wanted him to know for her, to take like the others had.

"If you insist," he said and then plunged back in.

Nesta swore she saw stars as he hit the deepest part of her. He was relentless, pushing in and out of her so rapidly that she could only ride the wave of what he gave her. She sank to the bed, her face pressed against the mattress as Cassian held onto her hips. He snuck his hand between her legs and rubbed her clit again until she felt herself spasm, gripping his cock so fiercely that Cassian hissed behind her.

After the ripples of pleasure had subsided, Cassian pulled her up so that she was leaning against his chest. He was sticky with sweat, but Nesta didn't care. She relaxed into his warmth, ignoring how her thighs trembled. Nesta turned her head so that when she was tucked into his neck, the faint scent of black pepper and citrus hit her nose. She wanted to bathe in the smell.

If Cassian noticed, he didn't seem to mind. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and rubbed his thumb along her stomach as she caught her breath. They rested that way for a moment, her body pressed against him. It was comforting, but the poke of his cock against her ass reminded her that they weren't finished.

Nesta bent over again, spreading her legs for him, and glanced back.

"Again. Harder this time," she said. Cassian met her gaze, pupils blown wide, and plunged back in again without warning. Nesta's arms nearly buckled under the force.

Cassian's pace was slower but brutal, hitting deeper than before. She grimaced as a rush of pain seared through her as he reached the back of her. Then again. Nesta crawled a bit forward to give herself a reprieve until Cassian pulled her back, keeping himself buried in her.

He leaned over her, pressing his front to her back, and kept going, this time faster. He nipped at her ear as she whimpered incoherently, the pain finally blurring with the pleasure. As she was going to cum again, Cassian pulled out and turned her over, hoisting her legs onto his shoulders.

Nesta watched him from hooded eyes, admiring how Cassian's brows knit together as he thrust into her. She wanted to trace his lips, kiss along his jaw. To remember every detail of him when he left her. Her heart skipped as he finally looked up at Nesta and smiled.

Nesta felt herself clenching around him as he picked up the pace. It was brutal and rough and everything she craved. When she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was another one of the men she had found in the bar, smirking and marking her, thoroughly using her until they had met their satisfaction. It was a small, shameful thought, one that brought her barreling towards release as Cassian shifted his hips and pistoned into that part of her. Her back bowed of its own accord, and she felt herself fall off that anticipatory cliff into a blissful nothingness.

Cassian kept going, kept pushing in roughly, beyond whatever was rippling through her. Nesta lay exhausted, letting him continue to use her. He looked so lovely above her, his hair falling out of his bun.

Cassian, however, slowed and lowered himself to hover over her, so close she could almost lean up to kiss him, his eyes meeting hers and the thrusts slowing to a glacial pace. He carefully pulled her hand from where it gripped the sheets and wove his fingers through hers.

They stayed like this, the languid pace burning a hole in Nesta. And then Cassian pressed his mouth to hers again, coaxing her into a tender kiss. He then kissed her jaw, her temple, her forehead. It was too gentle, too much, and Nesta froze, glassy-eyed. She felt it then, the sadness, fear, and rot in her bubbling up until a tear finally fell down her cheek.

Cassian stopped the moment he spotted the evidence of her shame. He wiped the tear from her face.

"Nes?" he asked. She didn't respond, his voice a faint buzz as her mind reeled. You don't deserve this, a voice taunted in her mind. You aren't worthy of this.

Cassian pulled out of her and sat back for a moment, eyes scanning hers.

"Nesta, can you hear me?" he said again. The corners of his mouth turned down. He took his hand and squeezed hers. "Come back to me, sweetheart."

At this, Nesta grimaced, tears brimming her eyes. She felt like she was breaking, splitting in half. She feared he could see right through her and would learn to hate her soon enough.

Nesta pushed herself up and covered her face with her hands, burning with shame, wanting to will herself away to some faraway place. Her tears leaked from between her fingers.

Cassian tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her against him when she didn't flinch. Nesta wept, wept for the relationships she couldn't seem to keep, wept for the hatred she had for herself, wondering if she really had earned someone kind and gentle and soft. Cassian rubbed her back the entire time.

Finally, Nesta stopped and sniffled, wiping away a stray tear falling down the side of her nose. Cassian pulled a tissue from her bedside stand and handed it to her. She dabbed her face and sat back, away from him.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. Nesta avoided his gaze. It was too concerned, too laced with care. She stared at the floor.

"It's nothing," she said.

"Nes," Cassian said, ducking to catch her gaze. "I don't think what happened just now was nothing,"

Nesta sighed and felt herself tearing up again.

"It's just... She started. This was too much. She barely knew the guy. But somehow Cassian seemed to know her, at least book-her. But Book-Nesta wasn't as fucked up, wasn't as damaged.

Cassian waited patiently for her to finish.

Nesta shook her head again. "I don't deserve good things. I- I'm not that Nesta, you know. I've done awful things. I've-"

"Stop," Cassian interrupted gently, touching her cheek to halt the onslaught of her self-deprecation. Nesta tried to pull away, but Cassian held her gently, didn't let her retreat into herself again. He tucked her against him and stroked her hair.

"I get there's a lot going on, Nes, but we all deserve some kindness."

"It's not that easy," she whispered. "I've messed up so badly."

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "It's okay, you're going to be okay. But it's late, and we've had an exciting day. How about we talk about it tomorrow after we've gotten some sleep?" he said.

Nesta's breath hitched. She pulled back to look into Cassian's hazel eyes. He pushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled, the same smile he gave her when she first saw him at the bar. The smile that made her heart flutter in adoration and pain and shame. She blushed and looked anywhere but at the man in front of her.

Cassian leaned to her, his lips nearly brushing hers. "I promise we'll figure it out." Then he kissed her. His lips pressed against her tentatively, featherlight and cautious. Then they deepened, his tongue sweeping over her bottom lip.

Nesta reached down to his semi-erect cock, but he caught her hand.

"But you didn't…" she trailed off as he brought her hand over his heart.

"We have all the time in the world for that later, Nes." He kissed her nose. "Let's get some rest."

Nesta nodded, her body feeling so heavy and warm. She let Cassian wrap the blankets around them, and she fell asleep curled against him.

Nesta woke up the following day with a pleasant soreness between her thighs. She felt okay despite a mild headache from her drinks last night.

When she looked to her right, her alarm clock displayed 1:02 p.m. She let out a groan. Just how late had she and Cassian stayed up last night? She reached over to jostle him awake but met with empty air. She looked over, and the book that Elain had commissioned lay there instead.

"Cassian?" Nesta said. No answer. She called out his name again but was met with silence. She felt bile rise on the back of her throat. No, he couldn't have gone back? She grabbed the book and stumbled through her apartment, not bothering to put on clothes. The living room was exactly as she had left it yesterday, books piled high on the coffee table. He wasn't in the kitchen either.

"Fuck," she said, "fuck, fuck, fuck," She scoured the counter for a note but found nothing.

"No," she hissed. Everything looked like before she had left for the bar last night. She rushed back into the bedroom and tossed the pillows from her bed. He couldn't have left. Not all that they went through last night. He promised.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" came a voice from the doorway. Nesta whipped her head around so fast that she was almost dizzy.

Cassian stood there, leaning against the door frame. His hair was wet and twisted into a bun, a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

"You were in the bathroom," Nesta stated plainly, still staring at Cassian. Her heart was racing.

"I didn't want to wake you. We had a long night," he said. Nesta nodded, shoulders dropping. She let out an exhale and put the book back onto the bed.

"I read it by the way. At least to where you were," he said, nodding towards the book.

"What did you think?" Nesta asked. She let her eyes wander across his body. He was just as beautiful in the daylight as he had been last night. Cassian took a step forward.

"It's cheesy," he said. Then, another step. The towel around him loosened, and Nesta felt herself flush.

"It is cheesy," she said in agreement, watching his hips.

"But... it has its merits," he said. He was smirking now.

"Yes," she said, a smile tugging at her lips as he finally stood directly before her. The towel fell.

#acotarwritingcircle #nessian #nesta x cassian #cassian acotar #nesta archeron #acotar au #acotar writing circle

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finnpoerebelscum · 2 years ago

Text

FALLOUT - Chapter 11

Chapters Posted: 11 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Summary: Still reeling in the aftermath of Crait, Poe Dameron and Finn are sent to a secret Resistance base tucked away on Lothal to serve as acting generals. Their numbers dwindled to barely a handful, and with General Organa’s order grounding all surviving Resistance personnel to heal and regroup, morale is at an all time low. Poe grapples with his inability to sit still; the First Order looms, an ever-encroaching threat to what remains of the Outer Rim’s free space; intimate feelings grow impossible to ignore and a shocking return promises devastating consequences not only for those stationed on Lothal, but for the Resistance and galaxy at large.

A/N: An AU adventure, a side-quest of sorts, to account for some of the time between TLJ and ROS. Stormpilot centric. Canon up until the end of TLJ (but does not take into account Resistance Reborn or the Finn/Rose arc).

Masterlist

CHAPTER 11

There was no gradual return to wakefulness.

Karé was nowhere, suspended in cold, all consuming oblivion, and then she was very suddenly awake. Dry and gnarled trees snapped into focus above her. Urgent, pulsing pain in her left leg, her head, her neck. Flat on her back against cold, hard ground.

The sky above was a rich gridelin, streaked through with wispy red clouds. Was it night? Dawn? A soft bump, bump, bump against her right ankle. She lifted her head with difficulty and saw BB-8, rolling backwards and forwards into her leg in an attempt to rouse her. His durasteel exterior was singed black on one side, but he seemed to be functioning fine.

“I’m up, Beebee-Ate. I’m up. You okay?”

BB-8 meeped uncertainly.

An odd sound had filled her ears; harsh, ragged whooshes of air. She realized, belatedly, that it was her own breathing.

A face appeared above her, blotting out the sky and the scraggy trees. Strange, yellow eyes deep set in a wrinkled, cyan face peered down at her, two lekku swinging against broad shoulders. The Twi’Lek bent in closer.

Karé’s ragged breathing sharpened, her hand fumbled to where her blaster should have been strapped to her thigh.

It was gone.

The pain in her leg was everywhere now, traveling through her foot, up her side, burrowing deep into her hip. She could not escape it. A distant ringing muffled BB-8’s warbling and white swept into the edges of her vision—

A swell of warmth and calm spread outward from her chest in one great ripple, through her arms to her fingertips, mercifully dulling the pain in her leg, and out to the tips of her toes. The adrenaline punch subsided; the world cleared.

The Twi’Lek offered his hand, and in a soft, accented baritone asked, “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He pulled her to her feet, and when he seemed satisfied she wouldn’t keel over, took two steps back, giving her space to assess herself.

Nothing broken, as far as she could tell. She spun in a slow circle, taking in the barren surroundings. Behind the Twi’Lek, the pod was still smoking, its bulbous helm embedded in the dirt. It had crushed several parched trees on its way down, carving out a ditch in the desert floor. The dust had not yet fully dissipated. She must not have been out long.

If the Twi’Lek meant her harm, he really was drawing it out. Maybe he had just been waiting for her to wake up. No fun killing someone already half-dead… Who knows what psychos living in the desert do for fun?

BB-8 rolled up to the Twi-Lek and bleeped up at him once. He crouched down in front of him.

“Well, hello. You look quite different than I remember.” He turned to Karé. “Is it just you and your astromech?” He strangely seemed to have expected more.

Karé struggled to grasp the slivers of moments just before the crash. Most dissipated as soon as she tried to pin one down long enough for it to make sense. The pod had held up as they made their jump… Poe and Finn… Lost control of the G-9. An explosion of light. Iolo flinging his hand out, activating her seat eject. Then nothing.

The Twi’Lek momentarily forgotten, she lurched toward the pod. BB-8 raced after her. A hole gaped where the stabilizer fin and back engine had been torn away.

“Iolo!”

The familiar figure was slumped over the flight-stick in the pilot seat.

“Iolo?” The frantic beat of her heart jumped into her throat as she slid her hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to her. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs across the skin under his eyes. Still warm. Still breathing. She forced herself to slow her own.

A strand of hair flopped down over his eyes and joined the mess that was matted to a nasty gash in his forehead. Blood oozed in a lazy line down to his right eyebrow. Finally, his eyes opened.

“So much for… sticking the landing.”.

Karé puffed a heavy sigh, sinking down against the flight console behind her. The Twi’Lek had entered the ship as well, and hung back in the shadow created by a mangled piece of ceiling. His long, tawny robes looked so out of place, yet so familiar at the same time. Echoes of her childhood bedtime stories swirled in her mind. The stories of mysterious Force-strong beings who could manipulate people and surroundings with their thoughts. It wasn’t possible.

Karé watched Iolo gingerly unclip the four point harness. His right hand was burnt, the skin shiny and red.

“Where did we end up? Hey—!”

Iolo registered the Twi’Lek before Karé could warn him. His hand went to his blaster as he whipped around to face the stranger.

“Iolo, wait!”

The blaster rocketed across the ship, knocked free by an invisible momentum. Karé gasped.

The Twi’Lek emerged from the shadows, both hands up. “I am not here to hurt you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Iolo backed up to shield Karé with his body. She stepped out from behind him.

“I am Ira Nyx. I saw your ships go down.”

“You just happened to be out here at that exact moment?”

“I live here.”

“Iolo…” Karé began.

He silenced her with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes off of Ira. “You live here, huh?”

Before Ira could answer, Karé cut in. “Hang on. Did you say ships?”

Ira nodded. “I watched two ships crash. The second not too far from here.”

BB-8 gave a happy chirp, lights blinking in a frenzy. Karé felt a small twinge of hope, and with it newfound urgency to get to Poe and Finn. Their ship had been in much worse shape than the pod to start and there was no telling how it had fared in a crash. The throbbing in her leg returned insistently.

“We must tend to your injuries first,” Ira said, as if reading her mind.

Iolo’s next words stopped hers in her throat. “You survived Order 66.”

Youthful and eager, Iolo could be somewhat idealistic, but he was quick and wicked smart. He was also, apparently, a war history enthusiast. Order 66 happened long before either of them were born. Most of their generation knew of the Jedi from bedtime stories, not that they had actually existed, and were eradicated by the Empire decades ago. A look of immense sadness filled the Twi’Lek’s face, fleeting, but so tangible Karé’s throat and eyes pricked with it, too.

“I would like to help you.” Ira was quiet when he spoke again.

Iolo’s shoulders drooped a fraction, though whether it was apprehension receding or his adrenaline deserting him, Karé couldn’t tell. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” His voice was breathless. “That was decades ago. You’ve been here since then?”

“Yes. I knew this day would come.”

Karé and Iolo waited. BB-8 burbled. Ira offered no further explanation. Instead, he continued, “Your ship is wrecked and you need medical attention. Let me help you. Once you are well, I will lead you to your friends.”

Iolo opened his mouth to protest, but the words trailed off as he swayed. Karé grabbed a fistful of his flight suit and propped him up as best she could. As far as she could see, this was their only option. They wouldn’t do Poe and Finn much good if they couldn’t make it to them.

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Finn knew what was coming, and, no, he wasn’t. He stared at his right arm, limp in his lap. A hands-length longer than his left, it hung like the busted tubes dangling from the ceiling of their wrecked craft, detached and alien. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated a shoulder. Or the second.

Mental conditioning as a stormtrooper cut out the middleman between “jump” and “how high?”—stormtroopers just jumped. The physical conditioning was to make sure they survived the jump. In reality, it was hours of training off the battlefield, where they killed each other at the same rate they died in actual combat.

He was fifteen the first time, and it was his left. His days were spent corralled from training rooms to combat simulations, like herding bantha to slaughter. It was their third exercise of the day; hand to hand combat. Down and dirty. Finn learned quickly the name of the game wasn’t winning, just surviving. The gargantuan trooper he was paired with didn’t even have to try. He grabbed Finn’s forearm with bone-crushing force as he weaved out of the way, and yanked. It left the socket with a sinuous pop and he blacked out.

The next thing he remembered were two troopers pulling him from the mass into a galley off the main corridor as they were herded to their next training. One took off Finn’s helmet and clamped a hand over his mouth. The other grabbed his useless left arm and tugged. Barbaric, but with practiced precision. His shoulder slid back into place.

“There. Now you’ll survive the rest of the day. Hopefully.” Then they had shoved his helmet back on his head and pushed him back into the group filtering down the corridor.

“Finn?” Poe’s voice brought him back.

“Yeah,” he grunted and urged his muscles to shed any tension. It would only hurt more.

Poe, crouched in front of him, gave him an incredibly charming, “Here goes nothing” look and braced the palm of his hand against Finn’s armpit. He slid his other hand around Finn’s wrist, and using the wall behind Finn’s back as counter-pressure, yanked. Finn bit back a yell, but was relieved to feel the shoulder slide back into its socket with a snick.

“Damn. It worked.” Poe grinned.

Most of the lights in the downed G-9 were dead, with the exception of the few that hung down in a tangled mass of wires in places where the ceiling was crushed in. The strange glow underlined the bruises and smattering of bloody gashes along Poe’s hairline and cheekbones. Most of his injuries looked like they came from the shattered transparisteel on the pilot’s side. The co-pilot’s window had held, but the impact with the earth had contorted the metal, pinning Finn’s right shoulder to the seat with it.

They were nowhere near the capital city, let alone any settlement or outposts. Finn had briefly exited the ship to search the landscape. The ship had come to rest under a thick patch of the skeletal trees that dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see as well as a cluster of the jagged rocks that jutted out of the cracked soil. It went for miles in every direction he turned, meeting the sky in a continuous loop, until he got dizzy squinting to see where it ended.

The cluster of trees and rock the G-9 was jammed into offered some protection, if only concealing them from overhead visibility. But it was freezing. The cold seeped steadily into the cramped shuttle, chilling the durasteel all around them.

Poe came out of his crouched position and sat back, stilling himself.

He was in pain, Finn realized.

The outer physical signs weren’t there, but Finn knew it. Somehow.

His own shoulder had dulled to barely an ache; it definitely wasn’t his pain he was feeling anymore.

“Think you can get the comms up and running?” Poe asked him, voice tight. “I’ll take the engine.” He brought one knee up to stand, then stopped. The lines in his brow deepened.

“Poe? Hang on.” Finn pushed him back down. “Let me make sure you’re not injured first.”

“I’m fine.” Poe gave him a lopsided grin, but didn’t try to get up again. Finn reached up to pull one of the blinking lights closer. Finn guided his palms over Poe’s extremities, checking for blood after each one. A hush fell over the two of them as he searched, the only sound the frigid whistling and the increasingly clipped in and out of Poe’s breath. Finn felt more than saw that Poe was favoring his left side, even as he sat. His hands hovered over Poe’s chest for a moment.

Poe nodded, perhaps as much for himself as for Finn’s sake. “It’s okay.”

Finn peeled back the left side of Poe’s jacket and it stuck to his hip and side. Dread laced its way around Finn’s gut. It was blood. The shirt went up next, soaked through and tacky. There was a significant gash in the skin of Poe’s left side, it wound its way around his ribs down to his hip. Finn was frozen in place, heart hammering.

“That’s way worse than I thought it was.” Poe’s words caught in his throat. “Okay. Minor setback.” Hand shaking, he gestured to a panel above Finn’s head. “Check in there for a medpac.”

“That’s going to take more than a bacta patch.” Finn found himself saying. Clamping down on the panic climbing up his throat, he forced himself to stand. His fingers padded along the edge of the tarnished panels until he found the pressure opening and pressed. The panel popped open. Sure enough, a tiny medpac was tucked in next to a few rolls of gauze. He scooped them up and dropped them on the floor next to Poe.

The gash was deep. Scary deep. Down to several layers of red tissue and muscle closest to his hip and more superficial around his ribcage. The deeper parts still oozed, albeit in a lazy rhythm. Slow, but not enough to quell Finn’s panic. He didn’t have any medical knowledge. Troopers weren’t entitled to first aid. Anything a bacta patch couldn’t fix—you were as good as dead.

He picked up a roll of the gauze. It dropped from his numb fingers. He struggled with the zipper on the medpac. Inside were a pair of surgical scissors, some tape, a comically minuscule bacta pack, and some pills.

“This is just a bump in the road.” Poe’s hand came to rest on his. Finn dropped the medpac altogether and grabbed Poe’s hand.

He was almost dizzy, overwhelmed by the pain he could feel rolling off Poe in waves.

“We’ll figure this out. Just help me throw some bandages on so we can get to working on the comms, yeah? Hey.” Poe slid two fingers under Finn’s chin and made him look up. The touch was electrifying, circumstances be damned. Finn’s hand went to Poe’s face, and he leaned into the touch. They sat for a few moments, in silence punctuated only by the icy gusts that whistled through cracked transparisteel and the clipped in and out of Poe’s breaths.

Then, Poe straightened abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Finn’s heart dropped. This was it: he had overstepped. Misread the moment and crossed the line. “Nothing. I’m so sorry. I was just—”

“No, no, no.” Poe squeezed Finn’s hands in fleeting reassurance. “I mean you did something.”

The realization dawned on them both at the same time. Poe’s voice was stronger and his breathing had evened out.

“I—I don’t know,” Finn said. His eyes flicked down to the hand that had been holding Poe’s face, then back up to meet Poe’s gaze. “But you look better.”

“See? Just a bump in the road.” Poe gave him a brilliant grin that made Finn’s legs tremble for completely different reasons. “What do you say we get those comms up and running?”

The bacta pack, predictably, had barely been enough to cover the deepest grooves of the wound, but Poe insisted he felt better. Finn pulled him to his feet and he was steady, so for the time being Finn believed him. They wound the gauze around Poe’s midsection together, hands catching on each other, fumbling then resuming their twisting rhythm. Several times, Finn found himself on the cusp of telling Poe, the words burning on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding. He just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

Once they finished, Poe found the panel that housed the communication equipment, bashed in from the impact. Together, they dislodged it. Wires spilled out, some sparking, others, fried beyond recognition. It was the perfect distraction, and Finn chalked up his momentary bravery to the last dregs of adrenaline. Ill-timed love confessions aside, they had one hell of a job ahead of them.

* * *

The landscape of Garel was varied, but the blasted quadrant they’d crashed in was a cracked, flat expanse that stretched on endlessly, only occasionally dotted with scraggy trees. Garel City was nowhere in sight. You could see for eons. Karé was beginning to doubt her choice to accept help from Ira Nyx. One of his strides took nearly three of hers, and she was half-dragging, half-carrying Iolo at this point. He’d stopped making sense miles back. An overgrown thicket of the skeletal trees sprung up in the distance. Iolo stumbled and nearly sent them crashing into the dust.

“How much further?” Karé grunted. Her leg was fire, screaming for her to stop. With a glance over her shoulder, she could still see the smoking husk of the pod behind them, now a tiny gray dot in the distance. Ira eclipsed into the thicket.

“We are here,” his muffled voice floated through the dense brush.

The branches clawed at her and Iolo, the path now too small for the two of them. Iolo’s knees finally folded under him, dropping them both. Before they hit the earth, Ira reappeared, lifting Iolo off of her. The sudden weightlessness was disorienting, she stumbled after him through the brush.

The copse opened up into a clearing. In the middle, stood a small dwelling, handmade with a combination of earth and branches and trunks of the Garel trees. A misshapen chimney jutted out of the top. It looked like a giant, lumpy bowl turned upside down. Beside a window carved in the front was a taller opening, where a tattered cloth hung in place of a door.

A fire blazed inside, and only then did Karé realize she was shivering. Ira lowered Iolo onto a makeshift bed in the far corner, a piece of fabric filled with leaves and twigs. Then he returned to where she was hanging off the door frame. BB-8 hummed inquisitively at her heels.

“Come. Sit.” Ira took her by the shoulders and lowered her into one of the chairs at a little table opposite the bed.

“Why are you helping us?”

“You look like you could use it.”

“But you’ve been hiding for what—forty years? Why now?”

“That time has ended. I have been waiting for you. All of you.”

Karé couldn’t focus through the white-hot burning in her leg and her eyes dropped down to look at it. The world shimmered and tilted as she took in the damage. Her flight suit hung in tatters around her left thigh, the flesh a seared and peeling mess. “That…” She swallowed with difficulty. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Ira’s palm came to rest flat on the worst of her ruined flesh. Before she could recoil, a familiar rush of warmth pooled from under his hand, numbing the agony as it went. Then, slowly, he lifted it again.

The burn was gone.

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sadhorsegirl · 1 year ago

Text

been more quiet on here for season 2 bc a) im drastically more employed this time around (rip) b) it felt like so much of my opinion of events in this season were going to hinge upon where everything landed in the finale.

tbh i also ended up being p critical of certain elements this season and didn't feel like spoiling anybody's fun while the show was still airing new episodes. a lot of my opinions of this season were shaped by the fact that i started reading the books. i am a firm believer in allowing for necessary changes when making an adaptation and allowing it to evolve into its own thing so it also felt kind of shitty to be like. she (the books) wouldn't say that!!!! lol

anyways lol i've decided to make a little list of things i enjoyed, things i thought were mid, and things i actively disliked this season

LIKED:

a) new mat! i thought his performance was really strong and just about everything they did with him this season made me appropriately sad. bonus points for making his dynamic with min reading like a frat boy and a begrudging grad student going on a bar crawl together as "repayment" for tutoring lol

b) elayne! again i thought ceara coveny did a really good job and i liked how she fit into relationships with the other characters.

c) nynaeve and the liandrin of it all! nynaeve's arc this season was one of the strongest this season imo, and i think using liandrin to discuss the culture of abuse present in the tower was smart.

d) egwene and madeleine madden!! emmy campaign begins now!!! episode 6 was one of my favorite episodes of the season in large part due to her performance. the damane arc is truly harrowing stuff and the entire creative team handled it pretty well

c) moiraine telling lan that he was always her better in the finale!!! insanely unfortunate that this is pretty much my only Moiraine Moment without major qualms this season!!!!!!!!!!!!

d) the forsaken! their business casual swag had me laughing every time. could not stop myself from shouting w at the tv screen when mogehdien showed up at the very end

e) the ef5 reuniting in the finale! im totally fine with how this changes the ending in the books. sure i missed the giant fire battle in the sky but i gained all the besties going squad mode+elayne not introducing herself with her royal title to rand lol

MID:

a) lan and moiraine bestie devastation battle - i didn't outright hate all of this from the start like some people have but i def think this ended up severely fumbled in terms of execution. one of my fav moments in the books so far has been their fight in the second one where she basically says the most upsetting shit possible to upset him to get him to admit that he has found a new connection that could lead to an actual life (aka nynaeve) and he calls her on it but still gets upset and proves her point anyway! would have preferred moiraine went even more jigsaw emotional torture trap this season tbh

b) nynaeve's accepted test - mostly liked, felt like they didn't quite hit the right tone of dread these tests achieve in the books. its not completely a "i dreamed up a family that isn't real and now i have to abandon them" thing for me and more about how they don't understand why you have to leave them and beg you to stay. feel like this could have been more emotionally powerful

c) verin - meera syal obviously a very talented actress and she did grow on me as the season went on but i feel like she was almost TOO charismatic in a way. wanted her to be a little colder/wryer? she could definitely be charming in the books but i always felt like a lot of her power socially came from getting people to underestimate her by acting like a distracted and disconnected weirdo only to go in for the kill. missed this a bit this season

DISLIKED:

a) literally pains me to say it but.....moiraine's arc this season really didn't hit for me...felt kind of unfocused....wished she had been even more brutal in her pursuit....liked the start of her washerwoman era but it didn't really end up liking much of what came after......poor execution of what could have been a really interesting exploration of both her backstory and the way she would have to change the way she operates without the one power.....etc etc

b) cairhien :( could and probably will make a whole separate post about this but the design principles at play here were Not It for me at all. rococo? rococo bro? also don't like the way its political elements and lore were communicated which leads me right to......

c) house damodred/laman. major book spoilers ahead but thought it was a complete misfire to hold off on explaining laman's whole deal and moiraine's connection to it presumably until next season to parallel it with the aiel. cairhien is inherently shaped by the aiel war and moiraine is made a far more compelling character when u learn about her relationship to it thru her family. i thought the switch in birth order was interesting but basically every other change or delay in her backstory was a flop for me. her whole connection to trying to undo the sins of her own family makes her drive to save the world way more interesting!!! was hoping the show would take the time to expand on her relationship with elayne not (at this point seemingly) erase it. are u telling me i don't get galad now? be serious?

d) moiraine and lan's suicide conversation in episode 7. felt awkward and nearly too direct without acknowledging the fact that moiraine's dedication to The Work above all else is in some ways defacto suicidal

c) episode 7

d) siuan :((((((((((((( i get that we didn't have sophie around as much as she needed to be this season bc of contracts to other shows and stuff but man did we mismanage the time we did get with her lads....will prob also make a separate post about this as well but i do want to say that while i think her and moiraine having a major split over what to do with rand could have been interesting i think the execution is really REALLY poor here. think that confrontation would have been more emotionally powerful if they were just appealing to each other and the fourth oath wasn't used. wish people had been gossiping about what she was up to off screen so we had more context for her actions this whole season generally. L's all the way around

e) episode 7. again.

f) thought it was fucked that when lan and moiraine reestablished the bond again neither of them even brought up how he has to share any heartbreak she has over siuan now. another miss for full emotional impact

g) episode 7. AGAIN.

#just my little opinions don't mind me just me and my little opinions!!#i think i got everything down lol but there was a lot that i had to think/say about this season #might turn into an even longer winded ramble to get through it all #sucks that they kind of undercut my emotional investment in the show entirely sucks that it will impact how i feel about it while waiting #for season 3 #no im not sure if the compulsion theory will fix things #wheel of time #wot season 2 spoilers #wot book spoilers #mostly tagging it for myself so i can find this post later but also tagging spoilers just in case

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alltimefail-sims · 1 year ago

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Idk if I'm super late to this or if I missed a response, but I'd like to hear your thoughts about Roberto Crinkletop being Robert Crumplebottom. I'm not sure how I feel about it and would be happy hearing somebody else's opinion

You are not late on this nor did you miss a post from me about Roberto, but oh boy do I have thoughts! LOTS of them! I forgot about EA's atrocious little video until this ask remined me. Thank you!

I considered making a whole lore post on Agnes and I still might - but this whole thing with Roberto has re-contextualized her lore in the most inconsistent way, in my opinion. It has also discouraged me from wanting to talk about her. No surprise there though - they have fumbled the ball with lore in TS4 time and time again, and I think I am apart of a minority that just doesn't want them to address it any more. Even the slight mention of the Landgraabs in their most recent livestream made my skin crawl in the worst way. I just wish the Sims team would just stop pandering to a fanbase they do not care about in order to seem like they're putting thought into these families when they make them (spoiler: it's clear they don't put that much thought into them, if any at all. I truly believe they used to care, but that has been lost to time and that's why the games just aren't the same as they used to be. Trying to fuck with preexisting families, like the Goths for example, is only ruining what made them good in the first place... but I digress.)

Basically though, I'll sum it up now by saying that it seemed to be canon that the death and/or disappearance of Agnes' husband is what made her turn sour and callous (grief is what made her the person she is today, grief and loss made her hate romance). But then that wretched video drops and they decide to portray young Agnes as this mean, naggy wife that her poor husband (eye roll...) had to escape from? It even feels like they're insinuating that she was actually abusive because he says coming to Chestnut Ridge and becoming a nectar maker literally saved his life. Like holy shit! Just seems really fucking dumb to me if we're being honest!

It's just lazy writing, and it doesn't make sense with what we know of Agnes from TS2/TS3. In the original games it felt like she was a nuisance and a miserable old woman who we're supposed to feel bad for. In TS2 her actions aren't explained, but we know she is adverse to romance. In TS3 we see her in a whole new light, and it's pretty devastating how the loss clearly impacted her (that half unfinished nursery lives in my mind rent free). It was implied that they loved each other, in my opinion, but it seems like the Sims team will never miss an opportunity to villainize a female premade. I'm serious - it's actually getting concerning how the negative traits or actions of the male characters in this game are always twisted to be endearing, understandable, or momentarily misguided. But the women? Oh no, they're insufferable nags, abusers whose husbands need to leave them, women who never really loved their spouses at all, they're evil, they're mean, they're distant, they are bad wives and mothers, they are money-hungry, they are killers, and that's the whole of their marketing.

Poor uwu baby boys, save them from the mean ladies!! And if they cheat on the mean ladies, the ladies deserved it! If they are a serial cheater who will go as far as to leave their fiance at the aisle, that's okay because they're just a lovable himbo! If their wives go missing and they date a woman much younger than them, that's okay - she's actually the money hungry one! Yes he is lazy and does not have any ambition or drive, but his wife is so mean for being tired of their life being stagnant - she is the problem! She is a money hungry evil woman and he is just her husband who has no idea! He's rich and literally lives with her but uhhhh he's so nice that the estranged son (who looks just like him) isn't even his!

Ugh. Give me a break sims team. I'm tired!

#I'm sorry but it's giving sexism. I'm over it #Anyway that is the gist of my opinion. Thank you for your ask <3 #Don't get me wrong I love a lot of the male characters in this franchise but we can't have one female character whose depth -#isn't like 'she's actually evil lol' or 'she actually sucks lol' and I'm tireddddddddd #Roberto Crinkletop #ts4 #the sims 4 #chestnut ridge #ts4 horse ranch #sims 4 #simblr #atfs ask #anon

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rootspiral · 2 years ago

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I blab a lot about how I love all the Yellowjackets equally but in the end it’s always Natalie the one I feel the most heart-wrenching love for.

The girls hunting Nat in the snow with such wild gusto – it makes sense of course, they’re isolated and traumatized and impossibly hungry. Poor Akilah hallucinated a pocket mouse for weeks and almost bit into its mummified remains (idk if she actually ate it, I closed my eyes), if that doesn’t tell you how far gone they all are...!

But I think on top of everything else, they were okay(ish) with going after Natalie specifically. I think if it were someone else, Tai or Van or Shauna of heaven forbid Lottie, they would have hesitated a bit more. (And if Mari is indeed rigging the cards system, it’s possible she actively decided Nat was the most expendable.) I saw someone complaining about how stupid it is to kill their hunter, as if these girls are thinking logically. They don’t think they even need a hunter at this point, Lottie and the wilderness will provide.

My poor Natalie, who’s only ever had hardship in her life and still chooses to be kind. Who’s always trying to help, even if she fumbles and fumbles the ball. Nat who doesn’t care about norms, who is content to exist on the outside doing her own thing; this attitude simply isn’t viable in the wilderness, where the pack is the key to survival. Jackie couldn’t adapt to the new hierarchy and died as a consequence, and now the stakes are so much higher, it’s teenage ruthlessness turned sacred, it’s quite literally eat or be eaten.

If someone has to be sacrificed, it makes sense to pick Nat. Who else is there? Coach, but coach is gone. Misty, but Misty has clawed her way up from the bottom of the totem pole and she’s useful now. And sure it sucks to kill Nat, and Shauna’s knife is shaking, but there’s also resentment there. She thinks she’s better than them, doesn’t she? (More like, she fully understands the moral consequences of what they’re doing, same thing.)

The way Javi dies in her place is nothing short of devastating. The girls are okay with it, Javi wasn’t that useful either, the wilderness has decided, they tell themselves. It wasn’t the wilderness who decided, it was Misty, looking out for Nat as always. She showed her a loophole and Nat took it. When faced with her own mortality, despite saying that dying would have been better, despite being jealous of Jackie’s fate, dear God in that moment she chose to live, she stopped fighting to reach Javi, she watched him die with the others. She adapted. She will go along with the group now, she’ll eat the child she killed and she’ll live with that for the rest of her life, she won’t compartmentalize it, won’t be in denial, won’t become a textbook case of arrested development back home. She’ll drink and do drugs and go to therapy and try and try and fucking TRY to grapple with that one split second choice. She never will. She’s too good of a person to ever forgive herself.

#Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets spoilers #Natalie Scatorccio

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fraink5-writes · 2 years ago

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In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 8

New enemies appear--and they turned out to be quite the pain in the neck.

Biggest thanks to @leio13, my editor!!

Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Venti slunk to Third-Round Knockout alone. It was one of the few establishments in Liyue Harbor that served dandelion wine, which was just the nostalgic and alcoholic comfort Venti needed to numb his brain. The record of his last argument with Xiao looped over and over in his mind, and he desperately wanted it to stop. He had fumbled that conversation from the beginning. He should have never revealed his past—no matter how vague or allegorical it might have been. It was foolish to show the cards closest to his chest and even more naive to hope Xiao would understand.

As he was currently, Xiao was just a husk of a human being. His memories and emotions were empty, and all that remained were mindless, mechanical motions. It wasn't natural. Most likely, his humanity was sacrificed to seal away devastating trauma. Nevertheless, Venti still resented him. Xiao had been given a rare blank slate, yet he continued to squander it, droning through each day meaninglessly.

But, even if Venti stood by his opinions of Xiao, he deeply regretted that they had come out so explosively. His relationship with Xiao would not be easily mended, especially given the way Venti's smooth-talking prowess failed him. He didn't need to stay by Xiao's side, but he at least wanted to leave a favorable impression as Venti. In the end, Venti didn't care much about his present life; he continued to exist simply to establish a poignant legacy so that Venti the Bard would live on eternally through legend and song.

Besides sabotaging his relationship, Venti inadvertently ruined another of his plans—he actually did want Xiao to improve, despite his pessimism. Of course, now that Venti had put Xiao's flaws on blast, there was no way that Xiao would accept his criticism as valid. More likely, he would sink deeper into his apathy. That would defeat the purpose of Venti's search for Xiao in the first place. He wanted to give Xiao freedom that he should've had twelve years ago. Anything less would be his biggest failure as Venti.

Venti couldn't afford to give up, but, at the moment, whatever hope he had felt no more significant than a small twig floating on the violent sea of booze he had thrown himself into. He could cling to the branch for dear life, but it was easier to let the waves consume his consciousness.

As the constant flow of dandelion wine was the only companion at Venti's table, it was the perfect opportunity to throw himself thoughtlessly into the worlds of strangers' drama.

"Rumor has it, he's made a new friend, one with quite the reputation in these circles."

"A guy like him? Friend? Pfft! He's one of those loner types, isn't he?"

"Most likely. That business is well suited for that type of character. But, listen, he's been seen all around Liyue with this guy—even as far as Qingce Village."

"Such a remote retreat! Maybe they're actually lovers?" The woman speaking snickered.

The other lady did not see the same humor. "You don't seem at all concerned."

"The private affairs of men isn't any of my business. In all seriousness, though, I know rumors, and I don't think we have anything to worry about. We aren't going to be meeting with the boyfriend, just our guy alone. We don't really want to get entangled with that other circle—besides, I heard they might have broken up just the other day."

"Maybe…" The more serious woman pouted audibly. "But if you ask me, we should just be sticking to business as usual. I miss my cats."

Ugh. N—Aaachoo!—Not cats… Just the thought of those pesky, furry creatures was enough to trigger Venti's allergies.

The conversation came to a halt, and the two women followed the sound of the sneeze to glance at Venti's lonely table. Whether they suspected him of eavesdropping or not, Venti decided to lay low and change his focus for a bit—at least until the cat portion was over.

Venti downed another glass of dandelion wine. At this point, the booze was beginning to taste numb, which might as well have been his favorite flavor. He ordered another bottle, then let his mind float into whatever conversation the wind led him to: exciting stories of the rock concert on Friday night, rumors of the little bear-like creature that bums around the other popular restaurant in Chihu Rock, heated discussions over the latest light novel chapters…

Finally, Venti's nosiness came full circle when one of the women from the earlier conversations gasped. "He picked a fight with that group?!"

"Well, I don't know if 'picked a fight' is the right word… but what's certain is he's definitely made an enemy of them. At least four of them have gone missing, and he's the primary suspect…"

"I just don't get why. I get that taking out criminals is his shtick, but who does he think cleans up after his messes? Even the police turn a blind eye to them."

"It's not like they exactly have a clean record either…"

"Right?" The more rambunctious of the two women laughed.

Venti could guess what group they were referring to. Venti had generally avoided doing business with them, but recently, they had been targeting Xiao for some reason. And he and Xiao had killed four of them, two in the suburbs of Liyue Harbor and two in Qingce Village. But now it was none of Venti's business—Xiao had made that plenty clear.

"How can you be so calm about all this?"

"Well, it's not like I'm planning a funeral. We're just going to have a little chat with the guy. He should be getting comfy back home after his trip to Qingce Village; it's the perfect chance to meet!"

"...In other words, you're way out of your league, and it hasn't set in yet."

"Listen, there's only one person I've let beat me in a match, and I'm not just gonna let that change!"

Although their connection to the other case was unclear, one thing was certain: they were also after Xiao. Xiao may have forbidden Venti from pursuing the same target, but unknown threats were not off-limits. However, Venti was also just rational enough to realize he was too drunk to do anything himself. Certainly not in this restaurant.

Standing up, Venti's horizon rocked. He paid and waddled out of the outdoor seating. He tucked into a small alley where he could still observe the suspicious couple. A waitress around at their table with another round of food—it seemed they would be there a bit longer.

Though he dreaded the response he would receive, Venti's first obligation was to inform Xiao of the threat. Xiao had blocked all of Venti's previous numbers, but, of course, he had one more. Calling could give his position away, so he sent a brief text.

"xoa

"sioa

"Xia

"o"

Soft footsteps plodded closer. Venti reached for his gun in his left holster, shoving his phone in his right pocket. A tight grip seized his left arm and twisted. "Who ya texting? Boyfriend?"

With a gasping yelp, Venti looked up at his assailant—a young lady with straight black hair and an eyepatch over one eye. She was barehanded.

"Don't you want to pull out your weapon?" Venti jabbed, but it was just a bluff. In terms of physical strength, he was beat.

"Why?" She twisted harder, and Venti's fingers unclenched, dropping the gun to the ground.

His right hand still near his pocket, Venti yanked out a knife and slammed it under the woman's grip. He could feel the first drops of blood trickle with a sting as the blade scraped his arm.

"Are you insane?!" The woman screamed, tearing her hand away. But before Venti could seize the opportunity, she had smashed her other fist into his nose. In between flashes of darkness, the alley gyrated.

There was no way he could defeat his opponent at such close range. He needed to create some distance. He glanced bac—

"Too late." The other voice from the table had appeared. In her hand was…

Venti felt the quick pinch of a needle in his neck before he swirled out of consciousness.

#Genshin Impact #Xiaoven #Venti #Xiao

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tillywunderwing · 7 months ago

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YEAHH YEAH YEAH YEAH!! I love Handler so much, and it would be DEVASTATING for Phoenix earning that sense of affection just to lose it over and over again

I like to think that because Phoenix behaves slightly differently each loop, the relationship they build with Reginald always slightly fluctuates in turn. Some loops he becomes more affectionate. In others their relationship is professional to a fault, cold and strained. Every time he’s like a slightly different friend to them—and every time they reset it’s like they lose that different friend forever. Over and over again. (How do you grieve someone who’s right in front of you?)

On another note re: which missions they’d get. They might get different assignments, but also, some missions they’d probably only ever do the once. Jet Set, for example—they’re not getting on that plane again after Rising Phoenix, because they know damn well by now not to trust the man who chartered it for them. (Or they might, if they were making an attempt to win JJ over or something, but then their motives would be so drastically different which is a whole other thing in itself).

I wonder which types of deaths would come to frustrate them the most. The ones where they got a puzzle wrong, maybe, because then they can only blame themself for fumbling it. Or the ones where they’re just caught slow in the path of a fast trap, because then that’s just bad luck, and it taunts them because what do you mean they got this far only to die to something that barely counts as an accident.

What does giving up look like and how long does it take them to get there?

IEYTD - Hardcore Mode

AKA an AU with no real plot yet but that’s pinging around in my brain anyway

So I’m an avid believer in the ‘literal game overs’ — Phoenix as a character who cannot be permanently killed is really fun to explore in fic, cause you get some interesting characterisation there for their general bravado or recklessness knowing they never stay dead long. I make this true by default for most to all of the IEYTD fics I write, because it’s fun to me!

However. I have considered an alternate version of this.

AU where every time Agent Phoenix dies, they do get a chance to start over — but when they do, they’re sent all the way back to the very first mission of the very first game. They have to live the entire ensuing year/s over and over again, making only the slightest bit of further progress each time before something inevitably cuts them all the way back.

I think it’s an interesting thought experiment to wonder how they’d behave here. On the one hand, they’d have to keep some of that flippancy that comes free with immortality, but they also would have to be a lot more careful because their mistakes do have a cost here. Nothing they can’t ever technically recover, but at a certain point it’s about the repetition, the emotional strain of it all. How many times can a person hard-knuckle through the same two years, dying over and over again at the same end point because too much time passes between rehearsals for the hard earned lessons to really stick? How many times before they start to lose hope?

It would also give a fun narrative spin in the sense that they can go back and change things at the root, now. Like… they would never have been able to save John Juniper in the current timeline, regular resets on or not, it was too late and he was too far out of reach. But if they go back to before he ever joined with Zoraxis, could they have stopped him? Would they have thought to try, even for the sake of doing one thing different this time? Same goes for Prism — maybe they could save her from losing her robots, maybe they could alter the course of events from the stem.

Would they treat it like a blessing or a curse? If one first and the other later, where — when — does that shift start to come through?

Like I said, this is mostly an interesting thought experiment for the moment, might get a fic to itself one day but I need first a plot and time lol. Feel free 2 talk at me if you have any thoughts or ideas abt this! :]

#i expect you to die #rotating this so harrddd

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nnight-dances · 3 years ago

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MOONSICK

...wherein you're convinced your time as kazuha's fake lover is nearing its end.

pairings: kazuha x gn!reader

genre: angst, hurt to comfort, fluff!

note: been feeling a bit sad these days because kazuha's banner is coming up but i'm nowhere near pity and i have a 50/50 to win :( :( not getting the maple boy for a second time will truly be devastating so i'm writing kazuha angst to make myself feel better??

🌙

it’s falling apart, faster than you could’ve imagined. you’d always realized somewhere within you that whatever it is you have with kazuha is temporary, artificial, just an act. it doesn’t matter that his eyes seem to hold the world’s worth of meaning in them when he looks at you and it certainly doesn’t matter the way he caresses your arms tenderly even when nobody can see. because in the end, it isn’t even real.

but as always, the truth eludes you as soon as kazuha envelopes you in his arms, unafraid that your friends are right here, beside you, eyes wide and glistening with the sight of you being loved. and as his lips comes to touch your cheek, you have to remind yourself that that’s the whole point: for everyone to see. it only exists in everyone’s imagination. in your imagination, perhaps, it flares the most passionately.

“hm?” you’re pulled back to reality when kazuha hums something into your ear, wrapped around you from behind you, “you doing okay, petal?”

it takes you a moment to still your heart. “fine,” you reply, managing to keep your voice stable. but the brevity of your response isn’t lost at all on kazuha. his arms only tighten around your torso, and your heart becomes harder to keep in check.

“is it ‘cuz i haven’t been around you too much today?” he mumbles the words into the nape of your neck. the bonfire in front of you roars up back to life, presumably because thoma’s refilling the wood from across you. you look away from the fire, feeling your eyes tear up.

“i’ve no idea what you’re on about,” you answer, feeling small and petty in his arms. but you’re not lying. you really don’t understand why kazuha continues to whisper these words of a lover into your skin when no one else can hear you.

“’m sorry, petal,” kazuha continues on, not paying any heed to your denial, “you know how beidou gets. she really does think of herself as my guardian, i can’t get away from her.”

you’re fumbling now, mainly because it is true: you’ve been less than happy since the day started with beidou sweeping kazuha away from you. but the distance did you some good, didn’t it? it took you that much too grasp that the smiles you’ve been sporting for kazuha are far from faked.

but you’re also fumbling because you wish kazuha would stop treating you like you were his, as part of his bigger plan. you’d become much weaker in the matter of a few hours away from him. you don’t think you could do it to yourself any longer.

you sigh then, pulling kazuha’s arm off yourself, a smile you’d forced making its way to your face. “i need some air, kazuha,” you tell him, looking right into his eyes and inside, you’re begging him to stay away, “i’ll be back. can you stay here please?”

you’re already clearing up by the time you’re out of everyone’s line of sight, sitting against the wooden bench outside the camp you’re staying at, back resting against the cool stone of the wall behind you. “you’re fucked, y/n,” you tell yourself under your breath, “you’re so fucked.” you can feel your tears prickling up and you hastily blink them back when you hear footfalls beside you.

“k-kazuha?” your voice breaks for one and for all. you’re glad you’re not crying yet but the fall of kazuha’s brows is enough to tell you he’s not convinced you’re as composed as you make yourself seem.

“forgive me, petal, i tried to stop from following after you,” he says, out of breath when he kneels in front you, “but i couldn’t get myself to believe you. you’ve always been terrible at lying, haven’t you?”

“can they hear us?”

your words are barely above a whisper but kazuha catches them, blonde locks bobbing up and down as he shakes his head no. “then, why-?” your breath catches with the effort of holding back your tears, your throat closing up.

kazuha’s brows set further into his eyes at your state, hands coming to grasp your shoulders. you want to flinch but you’re only melting into them. “have i done something to upset you?”

you breathe out an unhappy laugh, brushing away his fingers from your skin, feeling the distance from him freeze up around you overwhelmingly. “i’m not upset. i want to… stop. you don’t-” you take a deep breath while kazuha’s frozen stiff in his posture in front of you. “you don’t need to keep going. i’m- we can stop.”

“p-petal? whatever do you mean?”

you think you’ve made up the stuttering in kazuha’s speech but one look at him tells you that his panic is very much real. his eyes are fixed on you, cheeks lacking their typical gentleness. “you’re tired? we can take a rest in the-”

“kazuha.” you say his name with equal parts yearning and anger. he’s missing the point on purpose. his fists clench at the gravity of your downturned mouth. “i know you needed me to be by your side and pretend to be your lover, but. . . i can’t do it anymore. i’m-”

“i’m sorry.” his words catch completely off-guard and you lose track of the words you’ve been rehearsing the whole day. “i can’t let you leave me. you’re right, i do need you. and i-” you stand up, wanting to escape before you’re pulled back into the addictive pretense of kazuha’s love again. he couldn’t desire you for real, could he?

“no, please, petal, don’t leave yet,” he stops you, standing to block your path, “i’m afraid i’ve broken the one rule we’d agreed on. i stopped acting like your lover a while ago. i’m- i’ve truly fallen for you, y/n. i need-”

this time, you’re the one floundering around for kazuha’s hands, your fingers warming his when you pull him closer to you. you’re unbelievably out of breath when kazuha’s eyes fall back on you, mouth still half-open in shock.

“i’m the same as you. i’m in love with you, kazuha.”

you almost expect everything to black out then and there, all a part of an elaborately cruel dream but then you feel kazuha’s breath against your face when he comes closer. “then, you wanted to leave because-?” you nod and kazuha’s frown finally breaks out into a sigh of relief. his arms work on their, pulling you into him, his own body deflating against yours.

“you scared me, petal,” he whispers into your ear and now you’re starting to realize, a little bit late, that kazuha’s love is reflected in his softness around you. “i’d been functioning on the hope that you’d felt something for me and that’s why you’d put up with this contract for so long. but you really felt so distant tonight, love, the way you’ve been calling me kazuha and blocking my kisses. i love you too much, please, please stay.”

your tears are mixed with giddiness when you let them out, placing your lips on his, with a, “’m sorry, kazu,” feeling a thousand unnamed emotions when you feel his laughter rival your own.

#kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #kazuha angst #kazuha fluff #kazuha hurt to comfort #fake dating au #fluff #angst with a happy ending #kazuha imagines #kazuha headcannons #genshin x you #kazuha kaedehara #gender neutral y/n

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years ago

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Day 31 — Trick or Treat

Pairing || Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 1500

Contents & Warnings || Fluff — implied infidelity (nothing major, just flirting)

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Flufftober Masterlist

October 30th

The big Halloween party you were supposed to go to with your friends was cancelled the day before, and you were pretty much all devastated.

Since they were desperate for a night of partying on Halloween Eve, they were willing to travel 2 hours away to a party that would be even greater than the one you were initially going to. Although you were also keen on some fun, you weren't sure if you were up for travelling that far. You told them that you would let them know the day of if you were down to go.

That was until a few hours later; you bumped into your hot next-door neighbour Bucky in your driveway. You got into talking, and when he asked you about your plans for Halloween, you explained your conflicted situation.

With a shy and beautiful smile, he welcomed you to come along with him and his two kids for trick or treating since his wife was away for a few days. Your heart warmed when he told you that the kids had wanted you to come and that he would very much be thrilled as well if you tagged along.

You immediately said yes. Maybe a little too enthusiastically, which made Bucky chuckle sweetly at you for accepting his invitation.

“Um, it's a date then,” he chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Y-yeah, it's a date,” you confirmed as your heart pumped in excitement that you would spend tomorrow evening with him and, of course, his adorable kids, who you'd grown so fond of.

October 31st

You checked out your vampire costume in the mirror, ensuring every detail was in perfect place. It was sexy yet classy—revealing, but not anything significant that screamed “slut”, and it was more than appropriate enough for the evening. Satisfied with how it all came together, you went to the house next door.

You took a few deep breaths to compose yourself and calm your excited heart before you rang the doorbell. After a couple of seconds of waiting, bouncing nervously on your feet, the most dashing count opened the door for you. He was also a vampire, and you weren't sure if you should feel awkward or excited that you matched perfectly together. You didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression and think you were a couple. Although you secretly hoped that it would come across that way.

“Oh wow! You look perfect! I-I mean, you look just, uh, that's a, that's a very good costume,” he fumbled with his words as he tried to keep it friendly.

“O-oh, thank you, Bucky,” you gave him a shy smile as you felt so giddy at his compliment, “you look good yourself. I-I just hope it's not awkward that we are matching,” you chuckled nervously.

“No, not at all. Actually, it's-”

He was cut off by two screaming little vampires running towards the entrance, calling your name in excitement.

“You're here! You're here!” They both squealed in unison as they jumped up and down in excitement before hugging each side of your body.

“Hey, you two! Oh, you guys look so scary.”

“We’re vampires as well! We wanted to be just like daddy!”

“I see that,” you giggled as you took in their adorable costumes.

“I tried to get them to go as something else, but they really wanted us to be a vampire trio,” Bucky explained as he had the most heartwarming smile on his face as he watched his kids interact with you.

“And now you're part of that family too!” The oldest exclaimed.

“Um,” you took a quick peek at Bucky through your lashes and saw him displaying a shy grin while his face went practically red he must have liked the sound of that, “well, I-I guess I am for the night.”

The kids were becoming incredibly impatient now and were ready to go out and trick or treat. With their pumpkin buckets in hand, they each grabbed one of you and pulled you along while barely able to contain their excitement at all the candy they would collect and consume tonight.

The streets were packed with people of all ages, families with young children dressed up in the cutest outfits, and teenagers as well, who tried to score candy but failed miserably.

You, Bucky and his kids walked up and down the Halloween-decorated streets, both in your own neighbourhood and a little beyond, going from door to door and collecting treats from each house. A few houses were kind enough to give yourself and Bucky a small treat as well, which none of you could pass up on.

It was a delightful evening, and you had no regrets that you decided to spend time with your lovely neighbours instead of getting piss-drunk miles away with your friends at some dumb party you wouldn't even remember after. No, this gave you the time and excuse to hang with the man you were crushing on and his two kids you'd grown so fond of, and it seemed like they were ecstatic as well that you joined along.

Once you were nearing the last few houses, the buckets were filled almost to the brim with nothing but sugar. But the kids begged “just one more house” for the past five visits now, and since they had been on such good behaviour tonight, Bucky allowed them a few more extra houses before it was time to head home.

They walked up to the front door of the last house with their heavy buckets held in front while you and Bucky stayed a little bit behind, having a pleasant chat. With big smiles on their faces, they rang the doorbell. After a couple of seconds, the door opened, and they excitedly blared, “TRICK OR TREAT!”

“Oh, my, don't you two kids look so lovely in your little costumes,” the elderly woman declared as she gave each of them a sizeable candy bar. Bucky's kids were well-mannered and said a nice big thank you before saying their goodbyes.

As you were about to leave, the lady directed herself to you and Bucky.

“What precious kids you have. And what a wonderful couple you are,” she giggled sweetly.

Your eyes went wide at the woman's words, and you sensed a hint of sweet awkwardness surging between you and Bucky at that moment. You kind of just stood there, not really sure how to react or say as you became flustered and your cheeks heated up. Bucky chuckled awkwardly and scratched his neck. To your surprise, he innocently thanked her instead of explaining the situation, which left you pleasantly surprised.

On your way home, the kids took up most of the talking, luckily, as they were both so ecstatic about all the candy they were going to eat.

Once you were back at their house, you all found your seats at the kitchen table. All the candy was dumped in the middle, and the kids were graceful enough to let you and Bucky eat some of theirs. You all munched on the chocolates and sweets as they shared silly and fun Halloween stories.

All was pleasant and fun now and not awkward at all between you and Bucky, as your primary focus was on them. That was until the kids decided to leave you and go play off the overload of sugar, leaving you and Bucky on your own with a mountain of candy.

“So,” Bucky was the first one to start talking after they left, “um, a-about what happened earlier,” he fumbled with his words as he fiddled with a candy wrapper, “I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I should have just-”

“Bucky,” you cut him off with a sweet chuckle, “it's ok. Don't worry about it.”

You didn't want any uncomfortable tension between you and him. He made a mistake right?, and he was most likely just tired after walking so much that he probably didn't mean what he said. He just wanted to get going and go home. There was no point in bringing up what happened when nothing was going on between the two of you. He was a married man, for god sake, and it was stupid of you to even fantasise or wish for anything more than just being neighbours and possibly friends.

“I had fun tonight, Bucky. I really enjoyed spending time with you and your kids.” You gave him a warm and genuine smile as you tried to change the topic to something more delightful.

He blushed a soft pink as he nodded his head while looking down at his hands. “I-I did too, and I know they did as well.” He smiled as he met your eyes, and you stared at each other for a moment; no awkwardness between you now.

A part of him looked relieved that you didn't pursue the situation further, but you also sensed that a part of him had more to say, but he held his tongue.

You simultaneously picked up another candy and ate it slowly while you both held big grins on your faces.

“Oh!” Bucky exclaimed, like he had forgotten something. “I forgot to say, happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween, Bucky,” you softly chuckled.

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

WONDERWALL (part 5)

A/N: aaaand the final part is here! thank you for coming on this royal adventure!!

PAIRING: Royal!Harry X Maid!Reader

WARNING: sexual content

WORD COUNT: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Cassidy is out cold by the time you decide to sneak out. You feel like a silly little teenager, trying to trick her parents and hook up with her crush. Only that your parents are not around, you’re an adult and you have a crush on none other than the future king of the country. It’s a weird situation.

Pulling a hoodie on you tiptoe out of the room, careful not to wake your roommate and then head over to Harry’s room.

It’s been a couple of hours since what happened in the woods so you’ve had some time to think. You couldn’t figure out for sure what Harry’s intentions are, but from the nature of the interaction by that tree you are thinking that it might be just a no strings attached situation. He must be frustrated by his upcoming coronation and becoming a leader and he wants nothing else than just to blow out some steam.

So as you’re nearing his room, walking down the endless hallways of the palace you’re bracing yourself for the possible outcome where Harry asks you to have casual sex with him and nothing more. In the meanwhile, you’re pushing everything into the back of your mind that tells you how badly you want him more than in just a physical way.

As you stand at his closed door you take a few moments to yourself, weighing in on what you’re about to do. If your speculations are right, you’re just about to become friends with benefits with the man who’ll be the king of Eroda in just a little over a week.

Holding your breath you knock on the heavy door and wait for an answer, but instead, it opens and a very much cozy looking Harry appears in front of you. He is wearing sweatpants and a loose, grey t-shirt, appears to be fresh out of the shower, because his curls are damply falling into his forehead.

“Hi,” he breathes out, as if he is surprised you actually came. “Come on in,” he invites you inside holding the door open and you walk in, a sense of intimacy washing over you, standing in his room so late and out of work.

He closes the door and you turn towards each other, a few beats of silence falling upon the room, both of you trying to figure out what to say exactly and at last Harry speaks up first.

“I wanted to kiss you a week ago,” he confesses and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.

“Y-You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a soft chuckle as he starts walking towards you slowly. “I didn’t pull back because I didn’t want to. I just… knew that my actions will have consequences and I didn’t want to pull you into it before I figured out what to do.”

“Consequences?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m about to become king,” he comments with a cheeky smile and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him, but he wasn’t expecting anything else from you.

“Oh really? Haven’t heard about that.”

“On a more serious note,” he clears his throat, trying to contain his grin. “Everything I do is watched by the whole country. I can’t just recklessly do what I want and then move on like nothing happened. I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” you nod, nervously fumbling with your fingers.

“Most people expect me to only get involved with women from class, in fact, Valentina has been fantasizing about marrying me probably since she was eight,” he continues and your throat is going dry, you don’t really like where it’s heading so far, is it gonna be the point where he tells you nothing can happen between the two of you because of who you are?

“Decades ago it would have been the end of my family if I was caught with someone like you.” He is now standing about one step away from you and you pray he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. It’s kind of devastating that he cares about it all and now gonna reject you because of it. That’s not how you got to know him so far.

Reaching up he cups your face in his hands and you want to pull away, but the warmth of his touch is pulling you closer, melting into his palm.

“Good thing we’re not living in those times,” he then adds and your eyes widen in shock. That was a twist for sure. “I’m falling for you, Y/N. Like never before,” he admits and you almost faint. Is this really happening? Did he really just confess that to you? “I never thought that a woman who can piss me off like you can would turn my world upside down,” he chuckles and you break a smile too.

“I’m glad I can do that,” you breathe out.

“You do a lot of things to me, Y/N,” he murmurs leaning closer and teasing you with just nudging your nose with his, but not kissing you yet. “And there’s even more I want to do to you.”

“Do them. All of them, please!” you beg, desperate to feel his lips on yours at this point. Harry’s smirk widens, but still doesn’t kiss you.

“Patience. We still have a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” you breathe out, staring more at his lips than at his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you can sense the change in him in an instant.

“We might not be living in those times but the judgement is still there. People will talk and gossip and say bad things. I don’t want to put you through it without telling you the truth. You have a choice, I don’t. I understand if it’s too much for you.”

“So… what is it exactly we are talking about? The thing between us?” you ask with a shy smile.

“Whatever we want it to be. I already told you I’m falling for you. I want to be with you, get to know you even more and… see what it could be.”

“So you want more than just sex?” you ask bluntly.

“I want you, Y/N. All of you, in any and every possible way,” he answers and a shiver runs down your spine at his words. “I’m using all my self-control to hold myself back right now, especially after having a taste of you already, but I won’t do a thing unless you tell me you want it. That you’re okay with being involved with me.”

“Harry, I’m more than okay,” you breathe out, running short on patience. You want him, more than anything and you’re ready to make sacrifices for him.

“Are you sure?” he hums as he leans so close, his lips are almost brushing against his.

“Completely, please, Harry, just—“ you start to beg, but don’t get to finish before his hungry lips claim yours again, finally.

He is kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, not holding back, his tongue pushing into your mouth right away, he is definitely over holding himself back.

You’re stumbling around in the room until the back of your legs hit the bed and the two of you fall onto the mattress in fits of giggles, but keep kissing, tangled together, rolling around until Harry gets on top of you, his hips pressing against yours and you can already feel him getting hard.

“Harry,” you moan, rolling your hips and he groans against your lips. He feels like a horny teenager again, like he can’t think straight and only wants to get himself buried deep inside you.

He drags his lips down the line of your jaw and the column of your throat while tugging your sweater up on your body along with your shirt underneath, finding a pleasant surprise; you’re wearing no bra.

“Y/N, oh my God I’m fucking crazy about you,” he grunts, tugging the fabrics off of you, leaving you shirtless and your back arches when his lips crash down onto your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth while he gropes your other breast with his hand. Breathing in your scent he feels like he is completely intoxicated and high on you, the best feeling he has ever experienced.

Your greedy hands impatiently fist his shirt as well, ridding him of it soon before he does the same with your pants, leaving you in only your underwear that’s already soaked. Reaching between your legs he swipes two fingers across your clothed pussy, feeling up just how turned on you are.

“This is for me? I made you this wet, huh?” he murmurs, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, his fingers keep moving, feeling you up.

“Yes!” you cry out, wiggling underneath him, desperate to feel more.

Hooking his fingers into the fabric he tugs it down and a moment later you’re lying completely naked on his bed, his lips tasting yours relentlessly with so much hunger. It doesn’t take long for his head to end up between your legs. The sight of him down there, watching you with greedy eyes, you see his back and shoulder muscles move with each movement and you just want to kiss each and every one of them.

He teases you with only kissing the inner side of your thighs, nearing where you need him the most and only allowing his lips on your cunt when you’re on the verge of tears. But then it’s like paradise. He sucks and kisses and uses his fingers to please you, tasting the juice of your pleasure as if it was the sweetest nectar he has ever tasted. One of his hands moves up your body, over your stomach and to your heaving chest and he loves feeling your racing heartbeat under the touch of his palm while he devours you with his mouth.

Though it would be heavenly to come like this, it’s not what you want right now. You want his cock inside you and before that, you want a taste of him as well. Grabbing a handful of his hair you tug him up and he understands the message, moving up he is eager to press his lips to yours and the taste of yourself mixes with your moans before you push him down to the mattress and get on top of him. You kiss your way down his chest, explore the patterns on his soft skin and every time your tongue presses against his hot skin he groans impatiently, his hips buckling up involuntarily.

When you finally reach the elastic of his pants the bulge in it is already impressive and you palm it over the fabric, earning yourself a loud moan and you can’t hold a proud smile back before you hook your fingers into the elastic and pull his pants down along with his underwear, his hard cock springing free in front of you.

Fuck, he is so big, the red tip already leaking and you haven’t even started with him. He watches you intently as you wrap a hand around the base and leaning down you kiss the tip before giving his massive length a lick from bottom to top.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he moans, the muscles in his thighs twitching from the sensation. You place your free hand to his inner thigh, his fingers digging into his flesh as you take him into your mouth and give him a gentle suck before taking several inches of him.

With a hand on the back of your head Harry’s eyes roll back into his head, your name falling from his lips as desperate pleas while you bob your head up and down, forcing yourself to take more and more of him, just the sounds that rip out of his chest are making you feral and obsessed with having him like this; at your mercy and falling apart.

Harry is about to burst in bliss, every time his cock disappears in your mouth he falls for you more and more and harder than ever. And as much as he loves having himself buried in your warm mouth, he wants to feel himself in your pussy already.

He cups your jaw in his hand and pulls you up, you let go of his cock with a pop, your lips are glistening from your saliva and Harry tugs you up, crashing his lips onto yours as he flips you over and onto your back on the mattress, getting on top of you, his hips settling between your legs and you moan loud and shamelessly when the tip of his cock presses against your clit. Harry reaches to the side and blindly tears the drawer of his bedside table open, but you grab his wrist and pull it back.

“I’m on birth control and I really want to feel you raw, please!” you tell him, kissing the corner of his mouth and his answer is a guttural growl before he kisses you hard and reaches down between your naked bodies to position himself to your center.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment probably since the day I first saw you,” he murmurs against your lips and you whimper when he drags the head of his hard cock up and down your pussy, collecting wetness before he pushes just the tip inside. “Are you mine, Y/N? I want you all to myself.”

“I’m yours. All of me, it’s yours,” you gasp as he slowly pushes more and more in until his whole length is buried deep inside you.

“Fuck, say that again!” he begs as he starts moving, in and out, slowly picking up his pace.

“Yours, Harry. I’m yours,” you repeat as you wrap your arms around his torso, your fingers digging into his back muscles.

His arms frame your head and his lips capture yours in messy kisses from time to time as he keeps thrusting in and out of you. It’s everything you ever wanted and needed, you’ve never felt like this before with anyone and if you had an ounce of doubt in you about Harry, now it’s all gone. You want him, in and out, all to yourself and for as long as possible.

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your orgasm builds up and you come screaming his name, but he doesn’t last longer either, his hips falling out of rhythm as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, riding his high to the fullest.

After a few more sloppy thrusts his movements come to a halt, but he remains on top of you. Minutes or maybe hours go by before he rolls off or you, but his arms lock around you in an instant, pulling you against his sweaty body and you gladly melt against him. His lips press against your forehead and when you lift your head to look at him you see his beautiful green irises are filled with joy as he smiles at you.

“Your majesty, you’re a bit possessive, huh?” you tease him with a giggle, referring back to how he demanded you to tell him you’re his.

“As if you didn’t enjoy being labeled as mine. I saw the shine in your eyes,” he grins before craning his neck so his lips could meet yours for a short, chaste kiss.

“I’m yours, but are you mine too?” you ask softly as you cup his cheek in one hand.

“Completely,” he replies without hesitation before he turns his face and kisses into the palm of your hand.

You’re late.

Again.

But this time it’s not entirely your fault.

Running around the room you’re collecting your clothes from here and there, putting them on in a hurry while your hair is still one big mess, bouncing around with every movement. You have about one minute to be down at the morning briefing, but you have no idea where your shoes are.

“Under the chair, Love,” Harry’s voice snaps you out of your frantic search and your head snaps in his direction. He’s lying in his bed, king sized for a future king, no shirt and you know for a fact that no underwear under the sheets. His arms are tucked under his head as he’s watching you with a smug grin, knowing well that he is the reason you’re late.

You wanted to get up and out of bed in time, but he wouldn’t let go of you, kept stealing kisses until they turned a little more heated which eventually led to some hot morning sex. Not that you’re complaining, but Agnes won’t be glad when you stumble into the briefing late and looking completely unpresentable.

“Thanks,” you huff and grab your shoes from where he said they were and put them on with one hand while trying to comb through your hair with your other one.

“Can I get a goodbye kiss?” he asks innocently, but there’s no doubt the moment you’d get into his reach he would pull you back into bed. His morning meeting got canceled yesterday and now he is way too smug about having a few free hours for himself, even though it’s not the case for everyone.

It’s been two days since Sunday, the turning point. Two blissful days of… whatever it might be that’s going on between you and Harry. Now it seems ridiculous there was a time you thought Harry didn’t want you. Ever since the wall between the two of you broke down he’s been making sure you know just how into you he is.

“You look stunning today.”

“I love your smile, especially when it’s because of me.”

“I wish I could spend the whole day with you.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until I see you again.”

These are just a few of the things that made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, turning you into a giddy teenager. Every moment you spend apart you ache to know where he is, what he is doing and whether he is thinking about you, but according to him, you’re always on his mind. Which is great, because you can’t stop thinking about him either.

“We both know it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” you tell him with a knowing look as you somehow regulate your hair into a bun.

“I’m sorry I can’t get enough of you,” he innocently apologizes, but the grin on his face tells you otherwise.

“Stop trying to get into my panties again!” you warn him but walk closer to the bed anyway. He scoots to the side as you approach him, but you stop just out of his reach. “Just a kiss, Harry. Seriously, I’m already late.”

“Tell them I needed your immediate help.”

“With what exactly?” you arch an eyebrow, inching closer so now his hand can sneak up your thigh, under your skirt. His smirk widens and he needs no words to let you know his answer. “You’re so needy all the time,” you roll your eyes but lean down anyway, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back right away, one hand remained on your thigh, his fingers gently massaging the muscles while his other one cradles the back of your head, gently pulling you down, keeping you close to stretch the kiss out for as long as possible.

“I really have to go,” you mumble against his lips and with one last peck, you pull away and head towards the door.

“The things you do to me!” Harry growls and you just laugh, glancing back at him one last time from the door.

“I didn’t do anything,” you wink at him before walking out and leaving him alone.

The gods had you in their favors. When you finally get to the briefing it hasn’t started yet, someone kept Agnes up so she storms into the room just about five seconds after you and misses how you were totally late.

You ignore Cassidy’s staring, who’s been on your case for a long time now. You haven’t told her exactly what’s been going on between you and Harry, but it’s obvious you can’t hide it much longer. She’s not stupid, she can tell something is up and you hate not telling her the truth.

Through the whole briefing you feel her eyes on you, she knows you didn’t spend the night in the room and you’ll have to come clean.

For the noon you get signed up for laundry along with Cassidy and two other girls, Krissi and Leah.

“That’s it for today. Report to me when everything is done on your list and we’ll see if there’s anything else to do. Thank you,” Agnes dismisses the group and everyone goes on their merry way.

“You’re not getting away from telling me everything this time,” Cassidy tells you as you head up to your floor, Krissi and Leah walking a few steps ahead of you.

“Chill down, I know! But this might not be the right moment,” you whisper back, looking around cautiously.

“The right moment was about two days ago. I want to know everything!”

Sighing you look around again and make sure no one is listening before you link your arm with Cassidy’s and lean close to keep your voice down.

“I’m… seeing Harry. Like, we’re… we’re a thing.”

“A thing? Like… you’re hooking up?” she whisper-yells with wide eyes.

“It’s more than just hooking up. We’re just gonna see where it’s heading.” You can’t hold a smile back from your lips just thinking about everything that has happened since last Sunday.

“Oh my God, you’re so gone for him!” she gasps. “What is he like in bed? Is he as good as people assume?”

“Cassidy!” you snap at her, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Come on, I need a little something!”

Sighing you pull her to the side by one of the windows before you’d turn the corner to the queen’s suit.

“He is… the best. In every way. He is passionate and caring, always makes sure to give just as much as he gets, if not more.”

“Fuck, he sounds like the perfect lover,” she hums dreamily. “You spent every night with him since your little classes?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a giggle. “It’s been hard to keep our hands off of each other.”

“You lucky bitch! You have what the whole kingdom wants! Or at least the women.”

“Shh, keep it down! We don’t want the whole palace to know about it yet,” you shush her.

“So it’s a secret affair?”

“Well… It wouldn’t be smart to make it so public when we don’t know for sure what it is,” you explain. “It’s a complicated situation and he’s very protective. He danced back before because he didn’t want to bring me into something seriously affecting without thinking it through and having my approval.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet,” she swoons.

“I know,” you sigh with a full heart.

“Y/N, I’m happy for you,” Cassidy smiles back at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

Before anyone could pick up what you’re talking about you return to work and don’t mention Harry when anyone is around, especially Leah and Krissi. Laundry work is kind of a neutral task, you collect the dirty ones, bring them to the laundry room, start the machines and bring clean ones. Easy as it is, but it doesn’t need much concentration either and you can’t help but keep thinking about Harry.

You’re falling for him with every passing moment, even when you’re not around him. You’ve never felt like this before, no man was able to sweep you off your feet the way Harry has been doing and you know your feelings are already stronger than you ever felt for anyone else before.

There aren’t many questions in you about where you want to head with him. You see a future with this man, even with all the obstacles you might have to face for the most human thing to ever exist.

As if he could feel you thinking about him, your phone buzzes in your dress’ hidden little pocket and when you pull it out you see a message from him.

HARRY: Meet me in my office.

His study room just got finished this weekend and now he has officially taken the spot where his father used to do business. He didn’t say it but it’s obvious it means a lot to him, that it’s an important connection between his father and him.

“Cass, I’m gonna take a quick break,” you let your friend know. She smiles at you knowingly and nods before you part ways.

Excitement rushes through your veins as you try not to run down the hallways like an excited little kid. Walking past guards and other staff you finally arrive at his study and knocking on the massive doors you wait for an answer from inside.

The door opens as you’re rolling on the ball of your feet and you get pulled into the room before you could even process what’s happening. One of Harry’s arms curls around you to keep you on your feet in the sudden motion, he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, his lips claiming yours in an instant.

“Mm, missed me, huh?” you giggle, returning his hungry kisses.

“I always miss you when you’re not with me,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your skirt. As much as you would love to take it further, you know you don’t have enough time and it’s risky for you to even be here. So gently pushing him away you pepper his lips with a few more soft kisses and step away from the door. Luckily, he gets the hint and completely understands it.

The room looks fantastic. It’s spacious, almost every wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with books as thick as your arm, his massive desk situated near the bright windows, allowing the light to hit it perfectly, there is a corner with a sofa and some armchairs and a giant and probably incredibly expensive coffee machine with a set of china next to it. Everything looks so… royal, so impressive, it’s exactly what you’d picture for a king.

For your king.

“Wow, it looks amazing,” you look around in awe and walking over to the desk you slide your fingers over the shiny surface of it.

“You like it?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind.

“Yeah, it suits you,” you smile, turning to face him. “Sit there, let me see what you look like doing business,” you giggle, nodding towards the leather seat behind the desk.

He smirks, walking around the desk and you watch him take the seat, leaning onto the top as he watches you. You can’t help but bite into your bottom lip at the sight of him. He’s wearing his usual crispy white shirt, but the sleeves are rolled up, showing off the ink on his skin and the way only one corner of his mouth is curling up is giving you ideas of what you could do that would involve this desk between the two of you.

“Come ’ere,” he murmurs, leaning back in the seat and you obey without a second thought. He turns away from the desk and spreads his knees so you can stand between them. Reaching out you run a hand through his hair as his palms slip to your waist, tugging you closer, making you almost fall on top of him.

“You’re being naughty, what if someone comes in?” you warn him, but make no action to put at least some distance between you and him.

“No one barges in here without knocking first,” he hums and turning his head he kisses your arm, your hand still tangled into his hair. “But if someone did… would it be so bad if they caught us?”

“Weren’t you the one who said we need to think everything through before acting? Getting caught might not be the best way to make it official.”

“Make what official?” he smirks cheekily.

“That… we’re a thing?”

“A thing?” he chuckles. “That’s quite the label.”

“Okay, then what do you want to call it?”

“I want to call you mine.”

“I’m already yours,” you smile at him softly before leaning down you press your lips against his and he returns it eagerly. “And you’re mine, right?” you whisper against his lips.

“Yours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he answers before kissing you passionately.

Though you could stop yourself before, hearing his words you feel your self control vanishing and you want him way more than just moments ago. His hands are exploring your body as he kisses you with intense hunger and you return it just as eagerly, pressing yourself up against him.

He emerges from his seat without breaking away from you and the next thing you know is that he is helping you up onto the desk, his hips pressing between your open legs. The whole scenario feels like it’s straight out of one of your fantasies, never in a million years you would have thought you’d find yourself in this situation, with none other than the future king of Eroda. Sometimes you still feel like it’s too good to be true.

Soft moans slip through your parted lips when you involuntarily roll your hips against his, Harry groans against your neck where he is nibbling on the skin, kissing and sucking it, not even caring if he leaves marks behind. He is way too lost in the bliss of having you in his arms.

“Fuck, Y/N… You’re…” he mumbles before kissing his way back to your mouth.

“I’m what?” you breathe out, your words turning into a moan when his growing erection is pressed against your center.

“You’re everything,” he replies, stealing your next moan as he kisses you so hard you almost fall back on the desk.

Neither of you are planning to stop, it’s way too heated and you can’t think straight anymore, but when you hear voices coming from outside you jump off the table and Harry moves back, though the state both of you are in and the way your chest is heaving are massive give-aways of what was happening.

The people pass by the door and their voices die down in the hallway, but it was the reminder you needed that it’s not safe to just fall for your desires whenever and wherever.

“Sorry,” Harry chuckles, running a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath and you feel your cheeks heating up when you see the bulge in his pants. Hopping off the desk you walk past him and stand by the window as you fix your clothes and hair. He completely messed up your apron somehow, so you untie it at the back and try to redo it, though you’re not the best at it, usually Cassidy helps you out.

“Let me do it,” Harry softly murmurs as he steps behind you and takes over the task. He ties it carefully before his hands slip to your waist from behind and he kisses into your neck.

“Don’t start again, your majesty,” you sigh as you turn around in his hold and kiss him gently, careful not to get back to where you were just moments ago.

“I’m sorry, can’t help it,” he grins, stealing another kiss before forcing himself to let go of you.

Smiling to yourself you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress and absentmindedly glance out the window, realizing just how sheer the curtains are. The windows are massive and Harry’s desk is dangerously close to them, meaning that if someone was walking by they would easily spot what the two of you were doing.

Looking around cautiously you don’t see a thing, but there’s an eerie, unsettling feeling in your guts that tells you, you should have been more careful.

“Everything alright?” Harry asks and you tear your gaze away from the view to see him tucking his shirt back into his pants.

“Yeah,” you nod with a faint smile. “I really should go back to work.”

“Can I see you tonight?”

“We’ll see,” you chuckle. Walking over to him you fix his collars before pressing a short kiss to his lips and heading towards the door.

“I’ll be waiting,” he calls after you. Glancing over your shoulder you wink at him before slipping out of the room, hoping no one noticed your rapid visit.

It’s been a tiring day. Harry’s last meeting has stretched longer than he expected, but it’s been his usual all week. With the coronation coming up on Monday, so in just two short days, his duties are never ending, it seems.

His study finally empties out as his last guest leaves the palace and thankfully, he is finished for the day. Collapsing into his seat he takes a few moments in the quiet and peace he’s been dreading all day, knowing well it all starts in the morning again.

But it’s what he signed up for. This is what he always knew he would be doing and he loves to serve his country and be a leader, but sometimes he wishes he could just take a day off.

There’s a knock on the door and he almost groans, but when he calls out and sees his mother walking in he loses his lack of enthusiasm towards his guest.

“Hey,” he breathes out and standing up from his seat he rounds the desk and nods at Anne, inviting her to sit on the sofa.

“Hi, did you just finish for the day?” she asks. This past week the queen has completely given up on her tasks, allowing Harry to take over the lead before his official coronation. That means she hasn’t been attending many meetings along with her son so the two of them didn’t see much of each other.

“Yeah, finances always take longer than anything else,” he chuckles, as they settle on the sofa.

“Believe me, I know,” she smirks knowingly. “I wanted to come by and ask how you’ve been. The big day is just around the corner.”

“I’m doing fine. I don’t have much time to not be,” he jokes.

“It’s crazy for now, but you’ll get used to it and also better at it.”

“I know,” he nods. Anne takes a deep breath, taking a look around before her eyes settle over Harry again.

“I’ve noticed that there’s a little shine in your eyes lately. What do you have to say about that?” she asks and they both know exactly what she’s talking about.

Anne knows Harry better than anyone and even after spending so much time apart, she can easily spot the slightest change in him right away. She is the biggest expert of Harry Styles.

“Not much. Only that… I’m happy,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Is it because of a particular person?”

“Why do you even ask when you know exactly what the answer will be?” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “It’s because of her. Y/N. I’m… I’m seeing her.”

“So it’s somewhat official?”

“I mean… between us, it is. We haven’t figured out what to do.”

“So you’re planning with her? It’s not just a fling?”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head confidently. “She is… I want to be with her. Always. And I think she feels the same way about me.”

“Well, that’s a great start,” she smiles and Harry feels relief washing over him, even though he knew his mother would support him no matter what. “I assume you don’t have a plan then.”

“That’s the last thing I have,” he admits laughing.

“Alright. Then maybe think about it. So when you’re a little bit less busy you’ll know what to do. I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a situation that might hurt anyone you care about, or what’s worse, hurt you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been so wrapped up in everything and it’s been nice to have something… just for myself.”

“I know and I wish you could keep it that way,” she sighs and reaching over she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “But I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Do you think… Do you think she’ll be attacked if word gets out?”

“As I said before, there is always going to be judgment, no matter what. They won’t see the woman you see when you look at her. They’ll only see a maid who somehow got involved with the royal family and for some standards that’s unacceptable. So you have to brace yourself for the worst case scenario.”

“We’ll think about it and consult with the right people eventually,” Harry nods.

“I know you’ll make the best decisions. You always do,” she smiles before giving his hand another squeeze.

Harry can’t stop thinking about you after that in the sense where he is trying to imagine his life without you. He can’t. The way you’ve made him feel, he’s obsessed and he wants to keep it forever. When he was younger he questioned whether he’d ever find the person he’d want to stay with forever. Who’d make him feel so…

Loved.

And in love.

Harry loves you, he knows that now. He’s been trying to label his feeling, but because he’s never felt like this before he couldn’t decide what it was. Now he is sure he is in love with you.

That night he is waiting for your arrival impatiently, wanting to see you after a long day spent apart and when you slip into his room he is quick to pull you into his arms and kiss you with all the love he has for you.

“Hello to you too,” you grin against his lips, your arms hugging his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to lessen the height difference between the two of you.

“Hi,” he smiles, resting his forehead against yours. Just looking into his eyes you see the change in him and it worries you for a moment.

“What happened?” you ask, cupping his face in your hands.

“Nothing, I just… I’m thankful you’re here. With me.”

Smiling warmly at him you kiss his lips before pulling him towards the bed. Despite his words you can tell something is different and you feel like tonight it’s best if you just simply hold each other. Harry curls around you in an instant as you get under the sheets and you wrap your arms around him, his head resting on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat.

“Are you nervous about monday?” you ask, playing with his curls.

“A little bit, yeah,” he hums. “I just don’t want to trip and fall anytime during the ceremony,” he adds with a chuckle.

“That would be funny,” you grin. “But I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Y/N?” he softly says.

“Yes, Harry?” you answer and he loves the way you say his name.

“Nothing will change between us, right?” he asks, lifting his head up so he can look into your eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll be the same. I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine, right?”

“We’ll be the same, Harry. No matter what,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

That’s all he wanted to hear, that even in the midst of the craziest time of his life he’ll have you the way he needs you.

On Sunday you wake up early in the morning and after kissing Harry goodbye several times and successfully peeling yourself out of his needy grip, you return to your room before the morning rush could start in the palace. Cassidy is still asleep, she has about thirty more minutes before her alarm goes off so you make sure to stay quiet for that time. Busying yourself with braiding your hair and scrolling on your phone you kill some time and enjoy the stillness of the early hours.

That is until a knock is heard on the door.

At first you think it’s Harry. Who else would be at your door so early? However as you walk over to the door and open it you’re surprised and kind of shocked to see Agnes. She is not wearing her uniform yet, though her casual attire doesn’t ease the seriousness she always carries in her presence.

“A-Agnes, good morning,” you say, not entirely sure how to act.

“Follow me,” she simply tells you and there’s no place for protest as you follow her down the hallway.

There are a million questions racing in your head but you don’t dare to speak as you head in the direction of Harry’s study and part of you already knows what it’s about, but you ignore it just for a few more seconds before you have to face reality.

As you’re escorted into the room the first person you see is Harry, he is standing behind his desk, leaning onto it, his head hanging low, but as you step inside it lifts and you see his wide, bloodshot eyes and your stomach drops.

Then you see the queen and a few more people who work for the royal family and suddenly you feel like you’re being examined through a microscope.

“G-Good morning, your majesty,” you breathe out, not sure about the etiquette in this odd situation. Harry ignores your confused greeting as he pushes himself away from the table and rounding it you see his pained expression just worsen.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes right away and as he reaches you he takes your hands between his.

“For what exactly?” you ask quietly.

Before anyone could say a word Agnes hands you a copy of the Sunday newspaper and on the very first page you see several pictures of yourself. They were taken through a window and you immediately know when they were taken so you’re not surprised the situations you see your past self in. You’re wearing your uniform and there’s one where you’re standing by the window, Harry right behind you, kissing into your neck as he holds your waist, and then there are the spicy ones, where you’re on the desk and though most of you is hidden behind Harry’s figure, there’s no denying about what was happening.

And then you see the headline: Future king caught hooking up with young maid.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you stare at the pictures. You’re not a PR expert, but it’s obvious the photos are scandalous, the scenario is definitely not one you’d want to portray yourself in as a king.

“The timing of the publication was definitely set to be right before the coronation, to make it as big as possible,” one of the PR people speaks up, but you zone out on his further words as you open the newspaper and read some lines from the article. Additionally to the front page there are two more whole pages dedicated to the pictures, there are some more of just Harry from previous events and then they somehow got a few of you as well and it makes you realize your Instagram account is completely public. To make it go well with the narrative, they chose older pictures of you where you appear even younger and more inappropriate in age to Harry.

…The long time bachelor of the royal family seems to be fulfilling his needs with the staff of the palace. According to sources Y/N Y/L/N has been working as a maid for the royal family for the past few years and it seems like lately her duties have been expanded…

…Though the prince’s love life had always been kept private, it appears there’s more hidden than what we were expecting. And after all, we found out that his type is definitely the younger, more naive, classless women. Maybe he has had enough of the high expectations of the ladies in the kingdom and seeked something easier…

You hear more and more talking around you but all you can focus on is the article that keeps going on and on about how you’re just some nobody, a toy Harry likes to play with because you’re just an easy hook up, a temporary fix for his needs. It’s everything you feared from the first moment.

“We need to act right now or don’t do anything,” you hear the queen talk firmly. “We don’t have much left before hell breaks loose online, we need to have a plan.”

“We’re suing them, right?” Harry asks, one hand on your lower back while you just stand there, with the paper in your hand, your anxiety growing with each passing second. “Those pictures were taken on the property of the palace where they are not allowed.”

“Security issues are already being checked out to see how it could happen and our legal team is working on pressing charges. But that doesn’t make the story disappear,” the PR person says.

The discussion carries on and you feel like you’re not even there, like you’re just a ghost with nothing to add, nothing helpful and it’s starting to feel too much all at once.

“Excuse me,” you breathe out under your breath and you’re not sure anyone even heard you. Harry notices as you move towards the door and he calls after you, but you’re out of the room fast, running down the hallway and away from the issues that fell on your shoulders all of a sudden.

You know exactly where you’re going, to the place where you can be alone and have a breather from everything to think it all through. To the lake.

Harry tries to go after you, but he is held back, however he knows exactly where he needs to be also. With you.

“Your majesty, we need to take the matter in our hands, every minute matters,” the PR guy reminds him, but Harry is quick to shut him down.

“Do whatever you want. I trust you with the matter, but I need to make sure she is alright, understood?”

They want to protest, but Anne is the first one to speak up.

“I’ll take care of it. You go and do whatever you need to do,” she tells Harry and he looks back at her with appreciation before leaving the room to go after you.

By the time he frees himself you’re nowhere in sight, but he knows exactly where must have gone and he wastes no time running after you. To get there quicker he decides to take Ladybug out, heading to the lake in the woods.

You reach the water completely out of breath, but it’s not only because of the running, it’s also because of the panic attack you’ve been dealing with ever since you saw that newspaper. You should have seen it coming, that no matter what people would find the worst in you and pick you apart. You’ll always be the naive young girl, a little nobody next to the king of Eroda.

What if Harry sees you that way too? What if you really are just an easy, temporary fix until he finds someone with class to marry and be picture perfect with? You feel stupid for thinking he’d ever choose you, that he’d put himself through all of this for being with you.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you sit down by the water, onto the pebbled ground and just stare out ahead of you, tears dwelling in your eyes. It’s so early in the morning, you’re wearing the clothes you slept in, but you think about just walking into the water and submerging to feel isolated from everything.

However you don’t stay alone for long. You hear Ladybug’s galloping before you spot her with Harry. Wiping your cheeks from the tears you jump to your feet just as Harry climbs off of Ladybug, rushing up to you, cradling your face in his hands as he looks down at you with eyes full of worry.

“Y/N, why did you run away?” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath.

“I-I’m sorry, I just… It was too much at once so I wanted to think, but I’m so sorry for everything, Harry!”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, it wasn’t your fault!”

“But you’re being roasted because of me, because of my lack of status and class and it’s ruining your coronation, your big day!”

“Y/N stop, this is none of your fault!” he begs you, desperate to make you understand he doesn’t blame a thing on you.

“I-I’m sorry… It’s so… It’s okay if you want to end it, I would understand,” you whisper, your throat closing up as you’re fighting your tears back even harder, but you’re losing this battle.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts in a firm tone, still holding your face in his hands, his eyes focused on yours. “You rewrote my whole universe the moment I laid my eyes on you. Everything has been about you since then, every decision I make, every thought I have, every breath I take is to spend another moment with you even when things seem to be turning against us. There’s nothing that could change the way I feel about you. Absolutely nothing, do you understand me?”

Not trusting your voice all you can do is nod, your hands finding his waist as you push yourself closer to him, wanting to feel him. He rests his forehead against yours before speaking up again.

“Nothing they wrote in that article is true. You’re not just a hookup or a momentary adventure. I want to plan a future with you, Y/N. Forever or for as long as you’ll have me. Every moment I have with you is a gift to me, because… because I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his words and for a moment you think your knees will give up underneath you, but you manage to stay on your feet. It was unexpected and shocking, especially after the whirlwind of thoughts you just had a couple of minutes ago about him.

But one thing is for sure.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your hands fisting his shirt as you press up against him and your lips find his in an instant.

He kisses you back as if he was saying the words over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you, his lips tell you in a different way than the first time, but you understand the words clear as daylight. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the taste of his lips, but they are a different kind now, you feel full and happy and most importantly, loved.

“Aren’t you needed back there to discuss the situation?” you ask when your kisses slow down, but you’re still tangled in each other, neither of you are willing to let go just yet.

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he smiles before kissing you again.

The two of you ride back to the palace on Ladybug, you practically melt against Harry, completely forgetting about the rest of the world or the fact that you’re sitting on a horse again. He walks Ladybug back into her box and then takes your hand as you head back to his study to face reality.

No one comments on your disappearance and most importantly on the way Harry doesn’t let go of you, not even for just a moment. You sit in silence and listen to the conversation intently as a plan is formed. Before the clock hits eleven a statement will be released that the photos were taken on private property and the person who took them violated the law. Legal steps will be taken and the pictures will be deleted from every media outlet. No further statement will be forwarded, no explanation, no comment. The two of you are required to stay silent about the matter at least until after the coronation.

“And what about after? They won’t just let it die down, will they?” you ask Harry quietly so only he can hear your words.

“We’ll figure it out. We’re gonna have to come forward at one point and give out our own narrative.”

Nodding you just nervously chew on your bottom lip until Harry reaches up and pulls it out from between your teeth.

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Just… talk to me. We can never speak of it in public, if that’s what you want.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you say with a bitter smile. “But I’m okay with… whatever is needed to be done. I just don’t want to make you appear in a bad light,” you admit. “Being seen with me looks to be quite damaging and I understand if you don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Y/N, that’s not happening,” he smiles at you gently. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.”

“I believe you,” you smile back and steal a quick kiss.

The rest of the day is filled with damage control. The royal legal team is nonstop working on getting a hold of the case and making every photo disappear from the internet, though everyone knows that’s basically impossible.

You stay with Harry for most of it, because one, you kind of want to hear every detail so you know what’s exactly going on. And two, because being with Harry is the only thing that keeps you sane for now.

When the end of the day finally comes you feel dreaded and want nothing else than to just sleep. You’re walking out of Harry’s study after one last meeting with the legal team and Harry is pulling you towards his room, but you stop him.

“Maybe we should spend tonight apart,” you suggest, exhaling shakily.

“What? Why?” he asks and you almost regret your suggestion seeing the panic in his eyes.

“It’s just that tomorrow is your big day, it’ll be busy enough without me being around. With the whole situation… maybe it’s best if we’re not seen together for now.”

Harry wants to protest, to tell you he wants you around him all the time but what you said was rational. It’s what you agreed to do and his day will be documented top to bottom tomorrow, so it’s better if you’re not around, just to keep yourself to the plan. But that doesn’t change the way he feels about you and how he wants you to be around all the time.

“When will I see you tomorrow then?”

“Um, I’ll be working, probably just in the kitchen so I’m not out in the front,” you add with a bitter chuckle. “But… let me know when the craziness is over and we’ll see, okay?”

“At least come to the ball in the evening. Are you working then as well?”

“No I’m not… but maybe it’s not the best decision to show up there.”

You can tell the rejection pains him and you hate that you make him feel like this, but today has been fucked up enough. As much as you need Harry by your side you also know you need some alone time to think everything through.

“Alright,” he nods, clearing his throat. Pulling you into his arms he kisses you without even looking around, checking if anyone is around. You melt into his embrace and kiss him back before he just simply rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile back at him, pecking his lips one last time before parting ways.

It feels like everything crashes down on you again once you return to your room. Cassidy is there, watching your every step as you practically fall into bed with the loudest groan that has ever been heard from you.

“So, are you alright?” she asks, rolling to the edge of her bed.

“I kind of want to die, thanks for asking,” you mumble into the pillow.

“What’s the plan? I read the statement about the legal steps, but nothing about the two of you.”

Sighing you lift your head and push yourself up into a sitting position, crossing your legs as you look at your roommate.

“There won’t be anything for a while. We need the coronation to happen and then we’re addressing the situation.”

“So what, you’re gonna hide until then?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Kind of,” you shrug your shoulders.

“And you’re okay with that? Most importantly, is Harry okay with that?”

“I understand it. I’m not quite the best person to get involved in for a royal, don’t you think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she scoffs. “No one is better than anyone just because of a stupid title, I thought you know that better than anyone. Why should you hide for literally the most mundane thing to ever exist? For being with someone? Does Harry want to hide you as well?”

“No… not really,” you admit.

“Thank God!”

“He wants me to go to the coronation ball tomorrow.”

“And you’re going, right?”

“I said I wouldn’t…”

“Y/N, you will not just hide in a corner until they let you make an appearance. Harry wants you there, it’s his and your decision, no one else’s. I say you go there, show up looking like a fucking goddess and make everyone regret all the bullshit they said about you!”

You blink back at her at a complete loss of words. You weren’t expecting a speech like this, especially not from her, but it definitely got the message through.

It’s mostly your own inner fears that are messing with your head. Harry made it clear he is not ashamed to be seen with you, he is planning a future with you and that’s exactly how you feel too. Then why should you let stupid, ignorant people decide how you live your life? You want to be there with Harry, support him and be part of the day that changes his whole life.

And no one can take that away from you.

At ten in the morning the next day, Harry officially becomes king of Eroda as the crown is placed on his head in St. Carolina Cathedral.

Just like everyone in the kingdom who is not present at the ceremony, you watch it through a live stream while working in the kitchen. Your chest fills with pride and joy as Harry is introduced as King of Eroda to the crowd, waving and smiling and you wish you could be there to witness it with your own eyes and not just through a screen.

The palace has been buzzing since early in the morning, the works for the big day seemingly never ending. When one thing is done there comes the next, there’s just no stopping.

Originally your shift should end at three, which leaves you just enough time to get ready for the coronation ball. However just five minutes before you are about to be off the clock Agnes comes up to you in a rush.

“Y/N, can you maybe take a few more hours of kitchen service?” she asks with her usual clipboard in her hands that definitely has a lot more papers clipped than on a normal day.

“Oh, I kind of…” you exhale, not sure whether you should come clean about your plans or tell her a lie. At last you realize you’re done hiding and it should start now. “I’m planning to attend the ball, Agnes. I can’t stay any longer.”

She examines you with a straight face and you’re convinced she is about to tell you how stupid of an idea it is, to go against the plan, but at last you see the tiniest smile turning the corners of her mouth upwards.

“You better look flawless, Y/N,” she tells you before rushing off to find a substitute.

The crown feels heavier than he expected, Harry thinks as he takes a look at himself in the mirror. He has just changed from his traditional suit he wore for the ceremony into a more conservative one for the ball, but with the crown on his head it would be hard to lose him in a crowd. All eyes are about to be on him again as he walks into the ballroom and dances with his mother to open the event.

Everything has been going perfectly, there was no mishap, no sudden issues, almost too perfect, if you ask him. But of course, above all the good he knew something was off all day.

He missed having you around.

He was really counting on sharing the night with you, but he didn’t want to press it after your suggestion. Waking up alone was disappointing and he hasn’t seen you all day either. Now the ball is about to start and you told him you wouldn’t be there. He has to go through the whole evening hoping to finally see you and hold you in his arms, that’s all he wants now.

There’s a knock on the door and as he calls out Anne walks in, wearing her ball gown, a black and golden piece that suits the occasion perfectly. She walks over to him with a proud smile to fix his collar even though it looks spotless.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?” she asks, brushing her hands over his shoulder gently.

“I know. And thank you for all the support you gave me,” he nods before pulling her into a hug she’s been dreading, but held herself back not sure if he’d be happy about it.

“I’ll always be by your side,” she smiles, squeezing him to herself. “Alright. Ready to make your first appearance?”

“I guess I am,” he chuckles as the two of them head out.

The ballroom is filled with lords and ladies, tonight is an occasion no one wanted to miss, of course. The trumpets go off as Anne appears on the top of the stairs and walks down gracefully, for the first time as not the queen. When she reaches the end of the stairs she steps aside, the trumpets start playing again and Harry finally steps out, taking a moment to look around in the room while the crowd cheers for him.

He walks down the stairs, just like his mother did only moments ago and the trumpets turn into music with a whole band and when he reaches the bottom he holds out his hand for Anne for their dance.

As they twirl to the middle of the room all he can think about is you and what you taught him about dancing. His posture, his movements, everything is resonating back at your work and the time the two of you spent together at your classes and his thoughts return to missing you once again.

While the two of them are dancing perfectly, at the back of the room the crowd starts to whisper and look around, even part as if someone more important than the king showed up.

It’s you.

You didn’t intend to stop the whole show with your arrival but as soon as people recognized you, it got out of hand. Wearing a simple, but elegant royal blue dress you only wanted to make your appearance known after Harry and Anne’s dance, but the crowd thought otherwise.

It gets to the point where Harry notices that something is happening, his gaze trying to spot what’s causing the scene and then he sees you.

The crowd of guests part until you’re fully visible to Harry as well and you’re obviously in the center of the attention now. Harry stops dancing, unable to look away from you while you look back at you a little uncertain and afraid that he might be mad at you for showing up after all.

He feels none of that, more like the opposite. He can’t believe you’re here, looking like a dream.

Anne squeezes his hand to grab his attention.

“Go, ask her to dance,” she smiles before slipping out of his arms.

Harry turns to face you and then walks up to you as every guest is waiting to see what’s about to happen. He stops right in front of you and takes his time to run his gaze up and down your appearance.

“Hi,” he then smiles at you, barely able to control his emotions.

“Hi. I just… I don’t want to hide. So if you’re okay with it—“

“Can I have a dance, Miss Y/L/N?” he asks with a wide grin as he holds his hand out for you, ignoring your rambling but also giving you an answer at the same time.

Relief washes over you and you could cry from happiness as you take his hand and he leads you to the middle of the room, pulling you into his arms, every pair of eyes glued to you but you only see the man in front of you.

You start dancing, just like before at your classes only that now the whole kingdom can see you and by the morning there will be no question that you and Harry are more than just a fling even though you didn’t say a word.

“When I first saw you at the lake a month ago I didn’t know you’d become my wonderwall,” Harry admits as the two of you sway to the music.

“Your wonderwall? What does that mean?” you ask.

“Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infatuated with,” he explains as you listen to him smiling to yourself. “That’s what you are. My wonderwall, my love, my queen…” he lists, his eyes keeping yours in lock and he stops before continuing. “And one day I’ll make you Eroda’s queen,” he adds and without a care in the word, he leans down and kisses you.

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