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shiny-jr · 2 years

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damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

#yandere #neige lubanche #neige leblanche #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

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chaiandsage · 8 months

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Heyo!

I just wanna say i finally finshed your trust life fic after, admittedly, a long time (I struggle with long fics and typically hate reading them) it was really great I actually had a lot of fun reading it! Im really glad your fic could be the first lobg fic ive read in a really long time and encouraging me to step outta my confort zone for that kinda stuff :} anyways I did actually have a question belive it or not, I was wondering if you had any tips on writting in character for them (them being the traffic games characters) and for writting longer fics?

Hi! Thank you!!

I’m not surprised it took you a while. When I went back to read it all myself, it took me literal weeks to finish, lol. But thank you for giving this one a try anyway. It’s great to know that you still enjoyed it even though it was out of the norm for you

For your question, I think a small, but effective way to achieve that would be to make sure a character’s dialogue includes phrases or words that they usually use often. Same goes for their tone too. So like, I know that people like Joel and Bdubs are usually loud talkers whereas Etho and Lizzie are more on the quiet end. So maybe just try to reflect that and keep things consistent unless the situation calls for something else? I’ll also just try to read things over in that character’s voice and if it feels wrong coming out of their mouth, then I change it according to what feels more accurate

Aside from dialogue tho, you could also try seeing how others seem to write them most often and work off of that? Sorry for the vagueness. I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice on that subject 😅

Longer fics however… If you’re asking how to stretch a fic out, I think one way to kind of cheat at that would be to have the story take place from more than one perspective. That way there’s twice or more the amount of potential thoughts, problems, backstory, and development to cover (learned this the hard way)

—But if you’re asking how to write a GOOD long fic… I mean, I’d say it’s very important to have the gist of what you expect to happen be already established front and center in an outline. That way you’re not unprepared for anything and have already gotten one of the most difficult parts of writing it done (imo). That’s not to say that straying from your outline is a bad thing. If anything, depending on your story, it could kind of function as a safety net for that sort of thing. So no matter how much you decide to change, you at least know what direction you’re meant to be going in (I really hope I’m making sense here…)

ALSO—keep around a journal, or a notepad, or a log on your phone, or whatever so you can jot down any random ideas that you think would be cool to put in your story that might come to you whenever. Don’t trust yourself to remember to add them in once you start writing, because you won’t/lhj

If your fic has a lot of characters in it, then also make sure to write down and keep track of their relationship or current standing with other characters. For example, it wouldn’t make sense for two people who had beef three chapters ago to suddenly be cool or indifferent around each other the next time they meet up without there having been some kind of resolution (internal or otherwise) in the middle of all that. If someone gets into an argument with another person and then doesn’t see them again for a few chapters, their immediate thought upon seeing them for the first time again, in my opinion, shouldn’t be a cheery or neutral one. Maybe they cooled down a little between those chapters, but I don’t think the problem should have just fixed itself with time alone. That goes for a lot of other situations too

So, yeah, that’s pretty much what came to mind for me. I don’t consider myself an expert on any of this so please feel free to take it with a grain of salt. Regardless, I do hope you’re able to write out what you had in mind :)

#asks

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

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Not Bad For an Old Man

Summary: Walter Marshall is exhausted and just wants to go to bed. But a power outage and a drunk neighbour stand in his way.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Indigo (OFC)

Word Count: approx 3.2k

Warnings: Smut, Darkish!Walter, Dubious Consent, fingering (female receiving), masturbation, semi-public sex, sex (p in v), rough sex, Mdom/fsub vibes, age gap, slut shaming, dirty talk (if Ive missed anything, let me know)

Authors Note: So here is my first Walter Fic. I'm playing around with his character trying to get it right as I might try a longer series with him (not sure yet and it wouldn't be linked to this). Also, I thought it might be fun to play with the enemies to lovers trope and the stuck in an elevator trope.

Thanks to @blakerogue for reading it and coming up with the title. A million thanks!

Masterlist

Not Bad For an Old Man

As he put his car into park and engaged the hand break, Walter let out a deep sigh. He was so tired. In his exhausted and agitated state, he looked at the elevator across the underground car park. It seemed so far away, he briefly contemplated closing his eyes and sleeping in the car.

Of course, he didn’t. It was just one of those silly thoughts that sprung up when your mind can’t make sense of the world. He needed a shower, and the thought of the steaming water that awaited him was enough motivation to get himself moving. Grabbing his jacket off the passenger seat he put it on and made his way to the lift.

Getting in the elevator, Walter made his way to the far end and leaned his back and head against it. He folded his arms across his chest as the doors closed and shut his eyes. When the elevator stopped on the ground floor he opened them to see who was getting in. He didn’t know everyone in the building, but he knew most and despite how tired he was, he liked to be polite to them.

Walter let out a small grunt when he saw it was his neighbour. He had been hoping she would already be home. Now it would be nearly impossible to sleep, she would have her tv on too loud or she would try to cook in her drunken state and set the fire alarm off again. At least she was alone and he wouldn’t have to put up with her bedhead slamming into the walls for the next few hours.

“Good morning Indigo,” Walter said.

Indi stood in the elevator door way, arms wide against the frame, opening her coat and revealing her tiny skin-tight white dress, nothing more than a glorified tank top in Walter’s opinion. She looked at him, her green eyes lined in thick black kohl, her face shiny with a thin sheen of sweat that continued to down her neck and to her chest. One of her white combat boots was untied and her dirty blonde hair looked like it had been nested in by a particularly angry eagle. She was a mess. She didn’t always look like that, during the week she dressed plainly, her makeup feminine and meek, she looked the picture of innocent perfection. But on the weekends, she changed, became wild, untamed, her sexuality on full display and her weekday day restraint lost. Walter bit down the groan of desire threatening to burble up from a deep primal place that wanted to fuck the feral out of her, punish her for her recklessness, control her and keep her whorish urges to himself.

Stumbling slightly, Indi took a step out of the doorway. “I’ll get the next one,” she slurred.

Walter shook his head. He knew why he hated her, no one brought out his taming instinct like she did. He felt dirty, weak that she could stir those feelings in him, the feelings he kept hidden. He shouldn’t want to fuck her when she looked like this, displaying herself like she did and he upbraided himself for his lack of control. He hated her because he hated himself when his cock hardened at the sight of her rakish body. Despite wanting to reach out, press the close door button and let the foolish girl wait, Walter said, “You’re being ridiculous. Get in.”

“You the one who redic, redicolos, ridiculous,” Indi was drunker than Walter thought. “Did you knit the matching beanie and jumper or granny make it for you.” She couldn’t control the volume of her speech any more than she could her mouth to make the words. He thought she would be stubborn, but she got in the elevator, her coat sliding down off her shoulders as she did, stood in the opposite corner to Walter and stared him down.

As the doors closed and the lift started to move, Indi let out a huge yawn. Seemingly to forget she hated Walter, she said, “I’m so fucking tired. I just want to sleep here.”

Walter let out a short huff, amused she had the same thought as him, so close to the comfort of a bed, and yet too tired to reach it. Walter opened his mouth to speak when the elevator gave a sudden short drop and was plunged into darkness briefly before emergency lights turned on.

“Oh Fuck!” Indi cried out. She was sitting on her ass, her impaired equilibrium was no match for the elevators sudden stop.

Walter’s protector mode kicked in before he could supress it, and he went to her to check for injuries. Squatting down in front of her, he asked, “Are you hurt?”

Indi’s eyes raged as she looked at him, a near snarl on her blood red lips, “I’d be fine if I didn’t get on this fucking elevator with you.”

Walter stood up and went to the control panel. He had no time for her bullshit. He wanted a shower and maybe a couple of hours of sleep. The case he was working had reached a dead end, he would need to start at the beginning and work his way through it all again, re-interviewing witnesses, re-examining evidence. He didn’t have much time before the leads would start to dry up and the case would grow cold.

Glancing at Indi to see if she was ok while he spoke to the elevator company through the control panel, he looked away quickly. Walter clenched his jaw. She was sitting cross legged, looking at her phone, her tiny dress gaped open, high on her hips, revealing her tiny white cotton thong. The vulgarity of it shouldn’t have excited him, but it did, it always did. Walter felt a spike of adrenaline as his blood rushed to his sex.

The company representative said the fault was with the power company and they had no idea when it would be fixed, if it went for too long they would call the fire department. Thanking him, Walter pulled out his phone to check what he already knew, there was never any reception in the carpark or elevator.

“Well this fucking sucks balls,” Indi said. She appeared soberer now, possibly from the shock to the system. Walter went and sat in his corner back against the cab wall, arms resting on his bent knees deliberately avoiding looking in her direction.

“Do you think you could say one sentence without swearing?” Walter asked.

“Fuck no,” Indi said.

“Well maybe you could close your legs so you don’t look like a slut as well as sound like one.” Walter cursed himself. He was too tired and irritated, he never would have spoken to her like that otherwise, never let her get under his skin like that.

“Fuck you, Marshall,” Indi said, her face colouring as she pulled her skirt down and placed her bag between her legs.

Walter opened his mouth to apologise, but decided against it. He doubted it would have made a difference to their already adversarial relationship. He took his jacket off, rolled it up, placed it behind his head and closed his eyes.

“You don’t always have to be a dick you know,” Indi said.

Walter cracked an eye open and raised a brow. “Watch it, girl,” he said. “I’m too tired for your crap.”

“Watch it, girl,” Indi mocked, putting on his accent as well. She swung around and laid on her back, put her legs against the wall and lifting her hands, rested her head on them. Her coat, spread on the floor, open wide he could see her pert breasts stretching the thin material of her dress.

Like a fidgety bored child, she alternated bending and straightening her legs, her boots hitting the elevator wall, not hard enough to cause swinging or endanger them but enough to be annoying. “Do you mind?” Walter said.

“Well I’m fucking bored and you won’t talk to me so what else am I going to do?”

“You could sleep, it is three in the morning.”

“I had too many vodka Red Bulls.”

“Of course, you did.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I mean, it’s not surprising since you write yourself off every weekend and come home making noise, playing music or fucking some arsehole and keeping me awake, until six in the morning.”

Indi stopped kicking and looked at Walter. Walter stared back, forcing his eyes to stay on hers. Indi arched her back slightly, her hard nipples pressed against her dress, making the two little buds on the round hills of her chest poke through lewdly. Walter couldn’t help himself and his eyes slid down her body. She slowly nodded to herself, a sky smirk appeared on her obscene lips. She started kicking again and said, “Now I know why you hate me.”

Walter was furious with himself. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to ignore the painful hardening of his cock as it grew awkwardly in his pants. “You don’t know anything, girl.”

Her mocking laughter did nothing to appease his desire. “You want to fuck me,” Indi laughed, her red slips stretched wide across her face, grotesque like a wound, as her body shook with amusement. “Oh my god, it all makes sense now.”

Breathing deeply, controlling himself, Walter didn’t bother denying it. “Isn’t that why you dress like a slut every weekend? To make men like me want to fuck you?”

“Dirty old men like yourself are not my target audience,” she said, trying to be spiteful. But Walter noticed her shift in tone, and the breathlessness in her words.

Walter chuckled, “It doesn’t work like that, Little Girl. We all see it. We all go home with thoughts of your filthy mouth stuffed with our cocks.”

Indi gasped, her face coloured, her green eyes feverish, but her panting breaths told a different story. She never thought this quiet but gruff man would ever speak as he does. She thought him a loner, almost asexual, and very much boring. But she could feel a throb begin between her legs as she became lost in his gentle baritone, and his judgemental words.

“You will get yourself in to trouble if you keep doing what you’re doing. Men are disgusting. Pigs. You should protect yourself from us, not entice us.” Walter’s soft low voice and chastising words seemed to put Indi under a spell. Pleased, Walter kept talking. “When you dress like that, it brings out our primal urges, our savage nature, our urge to breed. We want to catch you, keep you and own you, even just for the few minutes it takes to pump you full of our seed. We will lie to you, deceive you, just for a chance to feel your cunt squeeze our cocks.”

“Not all men,” she said. “Surely not every man.”

“All of us,” Walter insisted.

“Even you?” Indi asked, timidly. She sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees. For the first time she looked like she feared Walter, but her fear was secondary to her obvious lust.

“Especially me, Little Girl,” Walter said with no hint of laughter.

Indi froze, she felt ice in her veins as she really looked at Walter and realised she had him wrong the whole time. She thought he was cold, stoic, his job forced him to create boundaries, to not get attached. She saw now it was a front, behind his eyes she could see the torrent of emotions that swirled beneath. She saw now he was a ticking time bomb, ready to detonate at any provocation. Indi found it absurd but as he tilted his head she wondered what he would be like in bed. Would he be controlled or would he let out the beast she could see lurking under his outward civility.

“Are you scared of me now, Indigo?” Walter asked with a seductive tone that made Indi bite her lip. One side of Walters lips raised in a small grin, he had given up hiding his desire.

When Indi bit her lip and nodded, Walter let his smile grow. “Come here,” he said, beckoning her with his hand. Indi shook her head. “I won’t hurt you,” he crossed his heart over his knitted sweater, “I promise.”

“No,” Indi said, but she sounded weak and unconvincing.

Walter studied her for a while. Her fingertips held her knees so tightly they were white at the tips. For a moment he wondered what he thought he was doing. She was at least ten years younger than he was, scared and his neighbour. If there was one thing he learned in the force, it was don’t shit where you eat. Walter didn’t care, stuck with her in the elevator, her perfume permeated the elevator cab, her cheap scent mixed with alcohol, sweat and he swears he can smell her sweet cunt.

Taking his gun and badge off his belt, he assessed the situation again. His glower made Indi shift where she sat her legs opening slightly and he saw the wet patch on her white thong. He didn’t need a further invitation and his arm struck out capturing her throat in his hands. Her artificially red lips parted as she gasped, and a small moan fell from her lips.

With his free hand Walter thumbed her lips, spreading her red lipstick in thick streaks over her cheeks and chin. His chest puffed as he wiped the whore from her lips. Her soft flesh reddened on its own accord now, under his rough and abrasive pad. Walter pressed his mouth to hers, opening her up, forcing his thick tongue into her mouth. She tasted like, soda, alcohol and sugary bubble gum. Walter groaned, his cock ached, screaming at him now. He grabbed her wrist and pressed her palm to his pants, moving it up and down. He let her go and he was pleasantly surprised to find she kept moving her hand against him.

“Fuck,” Indi moaned, her fingers gripped him through his jeans.

“You like the feel of my cock don’t you Little Girl?” Walter asked.

“Yes,” Indi said huskily. “You’re so fucking big.”

Walter grinned, “Not bad for an old man, then.”

Indi whimpered, softly, unconsciously, and Walter took it for a wanton plea. He pushed her back to the ground, and reached between her legs, pressing his palm to her. Her reaction was instant, her hip bucked against him, and she became a writhing mess, grinding into him. Walter watched her, the desperation she showed was provoking, enticing him to go further.

Pulling the flimsy cotton aside, Walter palmed her again, this time shuddering as he felt her sticky wetness coat his hand. Indi clamped her legs around him, trapping him. Walter didn’t fight, he wanted to see her cum, wanted to watch her greedy desperate body find relief. He yanked on the top of her dress and he saw the pretty pink buds, taut and hard. He took one in his mouth, sucking hard, tonging it roughly, enjoying her cries. Indi thrust her fingers into his hair gripping him tight to her breasts as she pressed herself into his hand. Walter slipped a finger into her sodden core and could feel her walls trembling, she was close already. He pushed a second finger inside, growling as he pushed into her, her tightening muscles trying to push him out. He fucked her, fingers pushing in, the squelching sounds of her wet cunt made his cock throb and as Indi fell apart, calling his name, he felt his pre-cum wet in his pants.

As Indi laid recovering, Walter undid his pants, finally allowing his rigid sex free. He fisted the shaft as he took her in, his eyes inspecting her indecent appearance. Her legs lay open, her underwear half caught in her folds, her breasts hanging out of her dress and her smudged make-up, made her look every bit the slut she dressed to be.

Walter didn’t hold back, entering her with a single mighty thrust and he was sheathed to the hilt. Indi screamed, “I’m not on the pill.”

Her protest gave Walter pause, “No birth control at all?”

“Nothing,” Indi said, “please don’t, I have a condom in my bag.”

Walter considered then growled, “Fuck it, I’ll pull out and cum on your tits.”

Indi shouted, kicked and clawed at Walter, begging him to stop. Walter ignored it all, catching her flailing arms in his, he held them above her head. Walter grunted as he fucked her, not holding back, he unleashed his primal urges into her warm core. Soon Indi’s protests became encouragement, and she moved her hips against him, searching again for her release.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, you greedy Little Girl?” Walter asked with a cruel smirk.

“Yes,” Indi chanted, over and over. Mascara stained tears rolled down her face as he pumped into her, leaving black trails across her cheeks. Walter didn’t think he had ever seen a woman more enthralling, her shame, her lust, her confusion, all showed on her face as she cried his name and he felt her walls grip him tight, milking at his thrusting cock.

“Fuck,” Walter shouted pulling out and working his shaft looking at her blissed out, sordid body. He pulled her into a seating position by the hair, and she came willingly her eyes meeting his as she arched her back, presenting her bare breasts to him. Throwing his head back with a roar, Walter released thick ropes of his seed onto her, his aim uncontrolled as his release painted her chin, dress and tits.

With a long sigh, Walter was spent, falling to the floor, he covered his eyes with his arm as he calmed himself, slowing his breathing until his heart rate returned to normal. He almost fell into the sleep his body had been craving when he heard the supressed sobs.

Indi was cleaning herself with napkins, trying not to make a sound as the tears still fell from her eyes. Walter got up and sat near her, taking the napkins from her hands.

“Let me, Indi,” Walter said. Tenderly, he cleaned her up, wiped her make-up off and helped her back into her dress. Gingerly, Indi watched, unsure of the gentle way he was treating her. “Did I hurt you badly?” Walter asked with genuine care.

“No,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” Walter said, slipping a finger under her chin he kissed her briefly before giving Indi a smile. Her look of shock almost made Walter chuckle, but he held it back so she didn’t think he was laughing at her.

Walter fixed himself up, tucking himself back into his pants. He returned to his spot against the wall, replaced his gun and his badge. He called to Indi and hesitantly she went to him. He sat her between his legs and wrapped his coat over both their legs.

Indi started to ask what he was doing but he interrupted and said, “We are going to sleep, Little Girl. Now lay back. I’ll keep you warm.”

Masterlist

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #walter marshal x ofc #walter marshall #henry cavill fanfic #dark!walter #walter marshall fanfiction #night hunter #nomis #nomis fanfic

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hopelesshunny · 3 years

Text

the love languages part i: gifts (f.w.)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred doesn't like to admit that he gets jealous when it comes to his girlfriend, after a overhearing a conversation where the love of his life is the topic he goes shopping.

warnings: jealously, slight possessiveness, greasy comments from greasy guys, kissing, fred playfully slaps y/n's butt once.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is the first instalment of my love language series, i'm hoping to update it over the next four mondays!! i'm starting a taglist for this series and for my future writings in general which you'll find here, i'm so excited to keep writing for this series and i'd love to hear what y'all think of it - my ask is always open and i can't wait to hear your opinions!!

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part ii // part iii // part iv

Fred laid back on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he watched his girlfriend adjust her uniform in the mirror. Fred had known Y/N for years but she had become a Weasley family staple after she rescued a very stressed Ron in the library who was pouring over a potions essay that Hermoine had refused to help with. It wasn’t until they had convinced Y/N to spend the summer at the Burrow with them this past year that Fred had finally worked up the nerve to express his feelings for her, and now here she was flashing him that sunshine smile in his dorm room, his mirror, making her way over to kiss his lips.

“You’re staring Freddie.” She giggled, as she plopped down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Can’t help it angel.” He replied, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “You’re just too good to be all mine.”

“Well-” she started “I can assure you that I am, my love.” He chuckled as he placed another kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on hers for a little longer than she probably should have. In all honesty, Y/N had been crushing on Fred for years, long before he had even known who she was. She had simply intended on observing him from afar, sneaking in quiet chuckles at the jokes he and George cracked in class, stealing quick glances at him across the Great Hall as he teased his siblings. But when she developed quite the unlikely friendship with his younger brother and they had invited her to their family home, Fred started to see her in a different light. Y/N had been at the Burrow for over a month when Fred finally realized that maybe the reason he always wanted to be close to her and that he laughed the hardest at her jokes wasn’t just because he wanted to be her friend, he wanted to be her boyfriend, he was in love with her.

She was everything he had ever wanted, the perfect girl for him, but her being perfect made her quite the center of attention. Fred would never admit that he was jealous but the stares she attracted as the pair walked down the hallways always got to him. However, she never noticed the way other people looked at her, probably because she was too busy staring at him, too focused on the feeling of his hand in hers.

“Freddie.” She whined, wriggling in his grasp. “I’ve got to get to the library and you’ve got practice.” She giggled as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

“The library isn’t going anywhere and they won’t mind if I’m late.” He mumbled which earned a playful scoff from her.

“I have a feeling that your lateness will not be excused.” She replied as he groaned into her skin.

“Fine.” He spoke before placing a playful smack to her butt, signalling for her to move off of him so he could reluctantly get ready for quidditch practice.

“Don’t worry Freddie, I'll find you once you're done.” She cooed, placing a kiss to his lips before making her way out of his room and down the hall, leaving him breathless, once again.

Fred quickly got dressed and started the trek towards the pitch, his head flooded with the thoughts of Y/N, a smile seemed permanently etched on his face. Until he overheard voices from around the corner; there stood two Ravenclaw boys leaning against the wall, and the topic of discussion happened to be his girlfriend. Fred gritted his teeth at the sound of her name coming from such mouths, his jaw becoming tight as he felt his hands ball themselves into fists.

“No, I’m telling you, she knows how to fill a uniform.” One of them groaned as the other laughed in agreement. The thought of someone staring at her, making such comments about his girlfriend made him angry, but the fact that they were looking at her like that, like she was nothing more than a body, infuriated him. She was so much more than that, sure she was gorgeous but she also helped his younger siblings with their homework when they couldn’t figure something out, she baked bread with his mother on Sunday mornings and always reassured him when he felt like the entire world was against him.

“You’re right.” The other remarked. “Don’t know what she sees in Weasley. Merlin, she could do so much better.” He added, running a hand through his hair. Fred couldn’t listen any longer, couldn’t handle the garbage he was hearing.

“And I assume you think you’re better eh?” Fred spoke as he sulked his way out of the shadows, causing the two boys to jump at the sound of his voice. “Quiet now, are we?” He chuckled.

“It’s only the truth Weasley, she’ll leave you at the sight of someone better.” The braver of the two spoke. “You’ll be tossed out soon enough.” Fred could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, but he knew that Y/N would despise the thought of him fighting, especially over her.

“We’ll see about that.” He breathed, feigning a lack of bother, the two boys stared at him, shocked at his response as he simply walked past them.

The week had melted itself into the weekend and the thought of his conversation in the hallway still plagued him, he knew Y/N wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t simply drop him if someone better came along. He knew that she loved him, knew that she barely even noticed those who were interested in her no matter how persistent their efforts in pursuing her were. But he needed something, something to prove that she was his, something that could show that she was proud to be his. After seething over this for the past week, thinking about constantly pulling his jumper over her head or maybe just never letting go of her hand in an attempt to keep greasy eyes off of her, it finally hit him and after a sneaky visit to a jewelry store he had a solution.

“Hey princess.” He spoke, excitement evident in his tone as he took his spot next to Y/N in front of the tree she was leaning against.

“Hi, my love.” She replied, abandoning the book she was reading to lay her head in his lap. He sighed with content, running his fingers through her hair as she gazed up at him, nothing but pure love gracing her features.

“I got you something.” Fred said softly as he ran a thumb across her cheek, she looked up at him, taking the hand that wasn’t occupied on her face into her own, interlacing their fingers.

“Freddie-” She started, but he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips.

“No, no, no.” He protested. “I know you always say you don’t need gifts but this one means a lot to me.” She stared at him curiously as he continued to speak.

“I overheard these guys talking about you and I tried to not let it get to me but I- I couldn’t.” He spoke, her face softening. “I know you love me and I love you more than anything, I just wanted to get you something that could show everyone that, that could show you that.” He ran his fingers through his crimson hair and let out a shaky breath as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently kissing each knuckle. He was so nervous, he had planned exactly how to go about this in his head, but here in this situation, with her staring up at him with those eyes, all previous thoughts of smooth words and flirting were abandoned. He wanted nothing more than to spill his guts to her, tell her every single reason why he loved her, kiss every inch of her body.

“I always say I don’t get jealous when it comes to you, but I do, I hate it when other people look at you the same way I do.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “You’re the love of my life Y/N, there is absolutely no one out there better for me than you, I’m all in.”

“I couldn't agree more Freddie, all my bets are on you.” Y/N said, rising from her spot in his lap to straddle him. She placed her palms against either side of his face, resting her forehead against his closing her eyes and feeling the heat of his cheeks against her hands. Fred reached into his jacket pocket to reveal a small velvet box, Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the sight. He chuckled, sensing her surprise.

“It’s not an engagement ring angel.” He started, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “At least not yet.” He opened the box, where a simple silver necklace sat, four letters sat in the middle, his name in plain script. Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as Fred pulled the necklace out of the box and loosened the clasp.

“May I?” He asked, a grin etching itself on his face.

“Of course.” She whispered as he placed the chain around her neck.

“There.” He spoke, leaning back to admire her, she looked so pretty with his name lying against her skin. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice quiet as he searched her face for some sort of indication into how she felt about the gift. She stayed quiet for a moment, simply staring down at the necklace, she ran a finger across the letters as Fred bit his lip, nervous at her sudden silence.

“I love it Freddie.” She whispered, pulling his face to hers capturing his lips with her own before kissing his forehead, both his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips again and again. He broke into a full fledged laugh until he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

“Oh no princess, don’t cry.” He chuckled, wiping away stray tears.

“They’re happy tears Freddie.” She giggled. “Just love you so much.”

“I bet I love you more though.” He retorted, resting his hands on her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’ll have to buy you more gifts if you keep kissing me like that.”

Y/N sighed in response, her fingers twirled in the hair at the nape of his neck. They both knew that Fred could never buy her another gift for as long as they both lived and she would still love him as much as she did in this very moment. There was so much uncertainty in the future but right now, with his name around her neck and his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist she knew that no matter what happened in the next month, the next year and for the rest of her life, her love would be completely and utterly Fred Weasleys.

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley series #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #hp fic #hp

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machine-gun-casie · 4 years

Text

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room.

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends.

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not.

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you.

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry.

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call?

“He was with Bob.”

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park?

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.”

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together.

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.”

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?”

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.”

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpsehusband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse fluff #gender neutral reader

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solomonish · 3 years

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say my name like it’s a bad word (solomon x reader)

sometimes, when Solomon hears others speak his name, it feels more like they're spewing curses than addressing him.

ao3 link: here!

I. Anger

He could see the peak rising above the horizon much sooner than he could the day before. That pleased him - though he wouldn’t let those graciously lending him their powers know.

As he walked into his unfinished temple, he had to dodge a few of his flying demons who passive-aggressively swooped too close to his head. He enjoyed the noise the solid ground made beneath his feet, opposed to the soft earth outside the entrance. With a purposely blank expression, Solomon strode over to a corner of the temple, where one of his more outspoken pacts stomped down clay.

Asmodeus looked up at him as he approached, his brows furrowing. If he wasn’t already out of breath from the strenuous work Solomon had ordered him to do, he probably would have groaned loud enough to halt the progress around him. His hair, stuck to his brow with sweat, still managed to look perfect and keep its style. Keeping his voice level, Solomon said as much.

“Oh, thank you!” Asmodeus chirped, wiping away his frustration for a moment to flash a faux grin. “Honestly, for someone like me, it’s hardly a feat to maintain such exquisite looks, but I certainly appreciate you noticing!”

“Someone like you…..” Solomon responded, trailing off as he held his chin in thought. Asmodeus, bound by the command of his pact, kept stomping the clay beneath him, but his upper half seemed completely at ease. There was a sudden fluidity to his movements, one that always warned Solomon to up his guard and covertly cast some safeguards against Asmo’s charms.

“Yes, someone like me! The most bewitching creature in all the realms - but surely, you don’t need a reminder of that,” Adding a purr beneath his words, Asmo leaned forward. Something glinted in his eyes as they slowly bled into a fuchsia hue, and Solomon felt a faint tug at the spell he just cast. “You know, I wouldn’t mind reminding you in other ways. Surely, this has been a test to show how much energy I truly have?”

Solomon perked up, and he could see Asmodeus rejoice, certain his plan had worked. “Really? After all of this, you still have energy?”

“Of course!”

With a hum, Solomon let his hand fall from his chin and smiled sweetly at the demon before him. The pact mark on his hip tingled lightly, a side-effect of the new method of command he was testing out. “Very well. I’ll double your quota and, naturally, expect you to exceed my expectations in a day’s time.”

“What-” His eyes widened and jaw dropped for just a second, wondering both how his plan had been foiled so quickly and how Solomon managed to command him with zero authority in his voice. Against his will, Asmodeus’ stomping quickened, forcing him to lose his theatrics and focus his entire being on his task. “Solomon!” He shouted indignantly, the only word he could get out before his pact holder turned and walked away.

II. Formality

“Solomon,” the voice said, a stiffness around its edges. Stopping in his tracks, Solomon had to squint in the shadows to even see the sorcerer he was meeting. In his opinion, hiding in the shadows beside the comically large bookshelf was a bit overkill for their meeting. While technically a forbidden one, Solomon was confident that, if caught, he would be able to leave unscathed.

"Irin," Solomon returned, hoping his own casual tone would ease away that stifling formality in his acquaintence's voice. "You said you needed to meet with me?"

Tentatively, like a distrusting stray cat, Irin stepped out from the shadows while peering down both ends of the hallway. They were ever the cautious soul, though it stung to see that hesitancy aimed at himself. "Keep your voice down. We don't want to get caught."

Solomon raised an eyebrow. "Why could we not have met elsewhere, then?"

"I only just found it. I wanted to make sure I could hand it to you in person before I found out why you were banished."

The glare Irin leveled him in had his heart sinking. Perhaps hoping that word of his fallout had yet to spread - or that he would not be held in contempt for accusations he could never address or recover from - was too big an ambition, even for Solomon. But the shadowed leaders of the Sorcerer's Society were prone to gossip. That was,after all, part of what demanded such secrecy in this rendezvous.

Glancing down, Solomon saw Irin handing his wand over to him, his lips grimly pressed together in a thin line. Ah, so that's why I couldn’t find it. The drama of the past few weeks had been enough to scramble his mind, and in the chaos of his banishment, Solomon must have dropped his wand as he was forced out. That, or it was stolen and he was never meant to have it back in his possession. Ah, well. Why bother with the semantics of rules he was no longer bound by?

Without a word, Solomon took the wand and tucked it in his waistband,, hidden behind his cloak. To see such solemnity in the exchange of such a ridiculous thing would have been a humorous sight if the atmosphere were lighter. But the air around them hung heavy, heavy enough to have Solomon itching just beneath his skin and craving an exit. As much as the thought hurt when it struck, he realized that there was no call for niceties or a proper goodbye. The icy glare he was leveled in wouldn’t be remedied with an amicable goodbye.

As Solomon made his way down the hall, a second pair of footsteps that were far too light to be Irin’s approached from behind him. He didn’t bother to cast a glance behind him to see who it might be - whoever it was didn’t want to see him, and Solomon was quickly losing interest in the affairs of the society in their entirety.

III. Distrust

“But is that really a good idea?”

“Do you not agree?”

Two voices floated down the corridor as Solomon approached, one like a softly tinkling bell and the other deep and soothing. It seemed that his two companions had started the conversation without him. Either that, or he was hearing part of a conversation that was never meant for his ears.

“It isn’t that, it’s more…” The lighter voice trailed off for a moment. “Are we sure it’s best to throw a newborn lamb in with lions who know far more than they do? Even ignoring how they’d be your only true subject of this exchange program, wouldn’t they have more luck bonding with someone as familiar with this world as they were?”

“Two humans who have no idea what is going on wandering the Devildom? That isn’t the best idea I’ve heard,” Solomon interrupted as he rounded the corner. He had no interest in eavesdropping on a conversation for information he was owed, anyway. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Diavolo reassured, uncrossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He gestured towards the assortment of small pastries and tea on the table between the three of them while Simeon picked up his own cup, if only to have something to focus on.

“Nice to see you, Solomon,” Simeon answered cheerily, masterfully hiding the suspicion Solomon knew should be biting at the greeting. Biting the inside of his cheek, Solomon held back any questions he had of Simeon trying to butt him out of the Diavolo’s project. Instead, he nodded in a silent ’nice to see you, too,’ and made himself comfortable on the unoccupied chair in the room.

“Now,” Diavolo started, ignoring the chill hovering in the air, “How are we feeling about this exchange program?”

IV. Annoyance

An indignant shriek filled the dorm as a menacing cloud of violet smoke rose from the pot. Luke watched it in horror, jumping back as the sparks started to fly out of the pan.

“What did you just do?” He yelled. Solomon merely watched in awe, impressed at the show he had created and completely shutting out Luke’s exasperated yapping. Perhaps such marvelling should have waited, because he couldn’t hear the panicked shouts as some of the sparks fell on the ends of his cloak. It took the brunt of Luke’s bodyweight as he pushed Solomon out of the line of literal fire and ran to get the fire extinguisher to snap him out of his daze.

Glancing at the bottom of his cloak, Solomon sighed and snapped his fingers, putting out the fire immediately. Begrudgingly removing the cloak of his shoulders, he lifted the hem to eye level and mourned his loss silently. Moments later, Luke came barreling in the room, letting loose with the fire extinguisher without even looking to see if there was still a flame.

When he was convinced that the fire was out, Luke held Solomon in his best attempt at an upset glare. He ended up looking more like a slightly upset puppy, but Solomon knew when to hold his tongue around the young angel. “Solomon, I told you to stay out of the kitchen! What part of that translated to you as ‘come add ingredients to the pot’?”

Before Solomon could make things worse in his attempt at a defense, Simeon walked in the room, looking like the most graceful being in the world. With his current company, though, it wasn’t such an accomplishment. “Now, now. I’m sure Solomon just wanted to help, right Luke?”

Luke didn’t look convinced, but the practiced smile on Simeon was a clear indication that he should agree. “Yeah, I guess.”

Gently guiding Luke out of the room, Simeon gave that same smile to Solomon. “And he will help by cleaning up this mess while we grab some more ingredients for dinner, right?”

“Yes.”

“Great!”

With that, Simeon ushered Luke out of the room. When they stopped to grab their jackets, Solomon heard Luke whisper, “I thought you were watching him, Simeon.”

Unlike his roommates, Solomon had the wisdom to wait until he heard the door shut to sigh in displeasure.

V. Contempt

At this point, Solomon wasn’t sure whether his repeated showdowns with Lucifer were proving his tenacity and value or deepening the hatred that seemed to run between them.

Still, it was unusual for Lucifer to summon for Solomon in the middle of class, only to stare at him in silence as Solomon fought the instinctive urge to shift where he stood before him. The student council room was empty, save for the spread out papers on the table in front of Lucifer and the two of them. It wasn’t often that Solomon felt unnerved, and certainly not by Lucifer after he heard your tales of how he behaved at home, but that was the closest word he could think of to describe how he felt.

“I needn’t remind you of the perils the Devildom has to offer?” Lucifer asked, his voice cold as ice. “I am not pleased with the state in which you brought MC back the other day.”

What, in once piece? Solomon had to bite his tongue. Lucifer really thought he could lecture his way out of everything, didn’t he? “I apologize,” He lied. Then, more truthfully, “If I could have brought them back with no injuries, I would have.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, weaving his fingers together in thought and resting his elbows on the table. “If you are to be so irresponsible, perhaps I should put a stop to these outings?”

The indignation burning in Solomon’s gut made him grimace; he hated feeling like a child, but Lucifer had a way of belittling everyone that way. His protests all sounded like an upset teen arguing with their parents - They were only scrapes and bruises! It was an accident! You can’t dictate everything MC does with their time. You can’t dictate anything I do with mine! - but he held them all back. “I will make sure MC does not get hurt next time they are in my care.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed red, and Solomon suddenly understood why the horror movies of his realm used that as an indication of evil. “Of course you will. But a little incentive wouldn’t hurt.”

With that, Lucifer stood from his seat, towering over Solomon by at least a foot. He wasn’t in his demon form - RAD rules to accommodate the exchange students - but he didn’t need to. Solomon could feel the threatening aura around him, promises of the harm that would come to him if he went against Lucifer’s wishes surrounding the two like the wind in a firestorm.

This was where Lucifer always lost Solomon’s interest. He wasn’t able to be threatened by promises Lucifer was always too busy to fulfill.

“You may not have much of a life to gamble, Solomon,” Lucifer hissed, and the only indication Solomon gave of his flinch was one quick blink, “but MC is not yours to toy with. Remember that.”

Unwilling to back down in their staring match, Solomon kept his mouth wired shut for a few moments. Lucifer, living up to his sin, also refused to back down, and Solomon realized it was a losing battle.

“I have to get back to class,” Solomon lied again, and they both knew it. But there were no more words to share between them, so Solomon left it at that.

VI. Affection

Hearing his name come from your mouth like that gave him the same sensation of watching someone put a piece of a cactus in their mouth.

You hadn’t even entered his room yet. The moment you entered the dorm, you called out his name, stretching out the last syllable in a sing-song voice. He could hear the rustle of plastic bags, the ingredients for his latest cooking lesson tucked inside. When you knocked on the doorframe to his room, he didn’t answer, and you peeked inside to see him staring directly at you with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Are...you okay?” You asked, not truly concerned. It was enough to quickly snap him back to reality, and he tried to play off his surprise with a smile. You stopped him from speaking before he even had a chance to tell you he was fine. “Don’t give me any crap. What was that look for?”

How could he express what he was thinking without sounding entirely unbecoming? “It’s...just weird to hear my name said like that.”

“What, to the tune of the Devildom’s next hit of the summer?” Your cheeky grin did nothing to hide your arrogance. Solomon only hummed, standing from his desk and stretching his arms above his head.

Realizing he wasn’t going to explain himself any further, you led him to the kitchen and explained the dinner you had planned. He listened halfheartedly, rummaging through the bag to eye the ingredients suspiciously. It all looked so...predictable. Boring. He was already connecting ideas to add his own pizzazz to the dish.

“Are you going to yell at me when I mess it up?” He asked in an attempt at jest. Something in his tone was off, though, and it sounded much more like a genuine question. Uncomfortably clearing his throat, Solomon avoided your confused gaze. “I mean-”

“Have Simeon and Luke been on your case about your cooking again?” You asked. He could practically hear your exasperation at their antics, and almost jumped to their defense. They were angels. Confronting people directly about their shortcomings wasn’t their strong suit. “I promise, I will not yell at you. Seriously. I will, however, whip you into shape with this spoon.”

To prove your point, you picked up a wooden spoon and hit him on the arm. Your own strength surprised you, however, and the sharp snap that sounded through the room made you freeze in your spot. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry-”

With a grin that could only be described as shit-eating, Solomon burst into theatrics, bemoaning his injured arm and worrying over how dark the bruise would definitely be. In between your apologizes and insistences that you didn’t hit him that hard, you tried to place a gentle kiss where you hit him. He made sure to pull away, swearing he could never trust you again after you’ve hurt him so severely.

He decided then that hearing his name interrupted with your laugh was the best way to hear it.

#tagging this on ao3 was kinda hard because #gonna be honest #a whole lotta nothing happens here LOL #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon #swd solomon #solomon #solomon fics #mine #solomon fluff #solomon x reader

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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Hi, I’ve been tasked with researching Richard Plantagenet for a paper and thus far found extremely negative accounts of the king, his religious bigotry being a reoccurring theme (his treatment of Jewish dignitaries attending his coronation and his reasoning to join the third crusade etc)

I stumbled across your wonderful tag for Richard at the weekend and wondered if you wouldn’t mind sharing your informed opinion of Richard and his views on religions ? Your writing seems very well balanced regarding his attributes and flaws. Thanks :)

Oof. Okay. So, a short and simple question, then?

Quick note: when I was first reading your ask and saw "Richard Plantagenet," I briefly assumed that you meant Richard Plantagenet, father of Edward IV, or perhaps Richard III, both from the Wars of the Roses in the fifteenth century, before seeing from context that you meant Richard I. While "Plantagenet" was first used as an informal appellation by Richard I's grandfather, Geoffrey of Anjou, it wasn't until several centuries later that the English royal house started to use it consistently as a surname. So it's not something that Richard I would have been really called or known by, even if historians tend to use it as a convenient labeling conceit. (See: the one thousand popular histories on "The Plantagenets" that have been published recently.)

As for Richard I, he is obviously an extremely complex and controversial figure for many reasons, though one of the first things that you have to understand is that he has been mythologized and reinvented and reinterpreted down the centuries for many reasons, especially his crusade participation and involvement in the Robin Hood legends. When you're researching about Richard, you're often reading reactions/interpretations of that material more than anything specifically rooted in the primary sources. And while I am glad that you asked me about this and want to encourage you to do so, I will gently enquire to start off: when you say "research," what kind of materials are you looking at, exactly? Are these actual published books/papers/academic material, or unsourced stuff on the internet written from various amateur/ideological perspectives and by people who have particular agendas for depicting Richard as the best (or as is more often the case, worst) ever? Because history, to nobody's surprise, is complicated. Richard did good things and he also did quite bad things, and it's difficult to reduce him to one or the other.

Briefly (ha): I'll say just that if a student handed me a paper stating that Richard was a religious bigot because a) there were anti-Jewish riots during his coronation and b) he signed up for the Third Crusade, I would seriously question it. Medieval violence against the Jews was an unfortunately endemic part of crusade preparations, and all we know about Richard's own reaction is that he fined the perpetrators harshly (repeated after a similar March 1190 incident in York) and ordered for them to be punished. Therefore, while there famously was significant anti-Semitic violence at his coronation, Richard himself was not the one who instigated it, and he ordered for the Londoners who did take part in it to be punished for breaking the king's peace.

This, however, also doesn't mean that Richard was a great person or that he was personally religiously tolerant. We don't know that and we often can't know that, whether for him or anyone else. This is the difficulty of inferring private thoughts or beliefs from formal records. This is why historians, at least good historians, mostly refrain from speculating on how a premodern private individual actually thought or felt or identified. We do know that Richard likewise also made a law in 1194 to protect the Jews residing in his domains, known as Capitula Judaeis. This followed in the realpolitik tradition of Pope Calixtus II, who had issued Sicut Judaeis in c. 1120 ordering European Christians not to harass Jews or forcibly convert them. This doesn't mean that either Calixtus or Richard thought Jews were great, but they did choose a different and more pragmatic/economic way of dealing with them than their peers. This does not prove "religious bigotry" and would need a lot more attention as an analytical concept.

As for saying that the crusades were motivated sheerly by medieval religious bigotry, I'm gonna have to say, hmm, no. Speaking as someone with a PhD in medieval history who specialised in crusade studies, there is an enormous literature around the question of why the crusades happened and why they continue to hold such troubling attraction as a pattern of behavior for the modern world. Yes, Richard went on crusade (as did the entire Western Latin world, pretty much, since 1187 and the fall of Jerusalem was the twelfth century's 9/11). But there also exists material around him that doesn't exist around any other crusade leader, including his extensive diplomatic relations with the Muslims, their personal admiration for him, his friendship with Saladin and Saladin's brother Saif al-Din, the fact that Arabic and Islamic sources can be more complimentary about Richard than the Christian records of his supposed allies, and so forth. I think Frederick II of Sicily, also famous for his friendly relationships with Muslims, is the only other crusade leader who has this kind of material. So however he did act on crusade, and for whatever reasons he went, Richard likewise chose the pragmatic path in his interactions with Muslims, or at least the Muslim military elite, than just considering them all as religious barbarians unworthy of his time or attention.

The question of how the crusades functioned as a pattern of expected behavior for the European Christian male aristocrat, sometimes entirely divorced from any notion of his private religious beliefs, is much longer and technical than we can possibly get into. (As again, I am roughly summarising a vast and contentious field of academic work for you here, so... yes.) Saying that the crusades happened only because medieval people were all religious zealots is a wild oversimplification of the type that my colleague @oldshrewsburyian and I have to deal with in our classrooms, and likewise obscures the dangerous ways in which the modern world is, in some ways, more devoted to replicating this pattern than ever. It puts it beyond the remit of analysis and into the foggy "Dark Ages hurr durr bad" stereotype that drives me batty.

Weighted against this is the fact that Richard obviously killed many Muslims while on crusade, and that this was motivated by religious and ideological convictions that were fairly standard for his day but less admirable in ours. The question of how that violence has been glorified by the alt-right people who think there was nothing wrong with it at all and he should have done more must also be taken into account. Richard's rise to prominence as a quintessentially English chivalrous hero in the nineteenth century, right when Britain was building its empire and needed to present the crusades as humane and civilizing missions abroad rather than violent and generally failed attempts at forced conversion and conquest, also problematized this. As noted, Richard was many things, but... not that, and when the crusades fell out of fashion again in the twentieth century, he was accordingly drastically villainized. Neither the superhero or the supervillain images of him are accurate, even if they're cheap and easy.

The English nationalists have a complicated relationship with Richard: he represents the ideal they aspire to, aesthetically speaking, and the kind of anti-immigrant sentiment they like to put in his mouth, which is far more than the historical Richard actually displayed toward his Muslim counterparts. (At least, again, so far as we can know anything about his private beliefs, but this is what we can infer from his actions in regard to Saladin, who he deeply respected, and Saladin's brother.) But he was also thoroughly a French knight raised and trained in the twelfth-century martial tradition, his concern for England was only as a minor part of the sprawling 'Angevin empire' he inherited from his father Henry II (which is heresy for the Brexit types who think England should always be the center of the world), and his likely inability to speak English became painted as a huge character flaw. (Notwithstanding that after the Norman Conquest in 1066, England did not have a king who spoke English natively until Henry IV in 1399, but somehow all those others don't get blamed as much as Richard.)

Anyway. I feel as if it's best to stop here. Hopefully this points you toward the complexity of the subject and gives you some guidelines in doing your own research from here. :)

#anonymous #ask #history #medieval history #richard the lionheart #long post

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV

After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall.

“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.”

Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed.

It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.

Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.”

Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.

When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.

“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”

“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”

“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”

“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.

“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”

Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”

Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.

“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”

“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.

Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.”

She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room.

She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”

“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.

Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.

Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.

“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”

“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”

“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended.

“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.

“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.

Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober.

Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”

When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.”

Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”

“Hmm?”

“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”

“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”

“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.

"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance.

“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”

Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”

Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”

Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”

“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat.

“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.

A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.

“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”

“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”

To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.”

At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.

Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin.

“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.”

And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.

But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression.

“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.

Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”

“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.

Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?

Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”

A beat passed.

“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.

Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?”

“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.

The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”

“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.

Part VI

#star wars #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #my au #sw #time travel #obi wan kenobi needs a hug #oh boy we are BUILDING towards the #angst #it 1am #lol im supposed to work tomorrow but ive said that before #thank you everyone for being supportive im glad youre all hyperventilating with me over this sad boy

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austim · 3 years

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hey i hope its ok to ask, but how do you color change gifs? ive been trying for a little bit and they never turn out right ;w;

I'll show you! I only know how to do this on desktop, though, I don't make gifs on mobile and I'm not sure how mobile-friendly ezgif is! Also, this is a lot longer than I intended it to be since I wanted to be as in-depth as possible, so I’ll be putting this under a cut.

First, a couple tips on picking a gif;

Use a gif that is already kind of close to the colour you want/is mostly one colour.

If a gif has a lot of different colours in it, it's going to be a lot harder to get it to look how you want it to. Pick simpler gifs with less objects to change colours.

Try to avoid gifs with hands/faces or other things that would look obviously off when drastically colour-shifted (unless that's the desired effect).

With all this in mind, I'll be using this cupcake piping gif by @/sensorys as an example;

Personally, I use ezgif to make/edit all my gifs. Once you're there, go to the 'Effects' tab;

From there, just upload your gif or paste its url and hit 'Upload';

Once you do that, you'll be taken to an editing page with all sorts of options to pick from. To simplify things, the only tools you'll need are 'Hue', 'Tint', and *maybe* 'Saturation', as seen here;

Let me just explain what these do real quick:

Hue changes the colour of the pixels in the gif itself.

Tint overlays a colour layer over the gif. Sort of like looking at it through coloured sunglasses.

Saturate can make the colours pop or make them look muted.

I typically only have to use Hue, but sometimes I'll need the others.

See how ‘Hue’ is set to 100? You can raise or lower that number, and when you do, it shifts the colours almost like a colour wheel. For this gif, since the base colour is a light blue, 0 is red while the highest number is pink. If you shift the hue a little bit one way, it’ll be a deeper blue, and a little the other way will be almost teal. Just think of it like this;

The line that represents the hue value is actually circle. Here’s what happens to the gif when I change the value to 125 (rather than default 100):

The frosting is now a deeper blue! But the cake is more of a bright yellow. I hadn’t considered that when picking this gif to use, but oh well.

Honestly, the best thing to do is adjust the hue meter carefully, bit by bit, until you find the right shade. But if you’re looking for something a little more subtle or want the whole gif to have more colour coordination, tinting might work! (tip: adding a tint after changing the hue can be really bright/overwhelming. Try doing one or the other first before trying to do both!)

When you click on ‘tint’, a little menu opens up;

All you have to do is pick the colour to apply (I chose a bright yellow) and how intense you want it. 50 is pretty subtle, 100 can be too much sometimes; just try out different levels until it looks good! Ezgif is very forgiving and you can hit ‘apply’ many times without reloading the page or anything.

After changing the gif’s hue back to what it was and applying a yellow tint with 83 intensity, the result is a nice ocean greenish blue;

You’ll notice the background looks yellow while it mostly remained the same when we just used the hue function. This is because there was no colour to change with hue, as the background is white by default, but tint adds a layer of colour.

There’s many different combinations of hue, saturation, tint, and even other effects like contrast and lightness you can use to get a gif looking how you want. You can also use the other filters like grayscale (makes the gif black and white) or sepia (for an example, I used sepia a lot to make this stimboard.)

And that’s about it! The best thing to do is experiment and make subtle changes at a time, in my opinion. If you have any other questions don’t hesitate to let me know, and I hope this helped!

#stim #stim gifs #gif tutorial #stim tutorial #gif making

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zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 5

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (2)

And so, Cheng Yixie returned to Cheng Qianli's side.

After leaving his first door, Cheng Qianli came down with a fever. He was sent to the ICU that night. Their parents both thought Cheng Qianli wouldn't make it, but only Cheng Yixie knew that Cheng Qianli was welcoming his rebirth.

A few days later, Cheng Qianli left the ICU, his body slowly healing. The first sight that greeted him upon his waking was his brother Cheng Yixie.

Cheng Yixie was sitting on a chair beside his bed, leaning back with his eyes lightly closed, apparently asleep. Cheng Qianli saw the sunlight spill over Cheng Yixie's black hair, making the inky strands seem slightly translucent. Speckled light dripped through tree branches and upon his back, and for a moment, it looked like he had wings. In Cheng Qianli's eyes, Cheng Yixie seemed as holy as an angel fallen from the heavens.

The angel's lashes trembled, and his eyes opened. Sleepiness clouded his dark pupils, and it was only in moments like this when a childlike tenderness could still be seen in his gaze.

"Ge," Cheng Qianli called to him.

The instant he heard this, the child in Cheng Yixie's eyes faded. His gaze returned to their deep, lake-like calmness as he looked at Cheng Yixie.

"Awake? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Cheng Qianli shook his head. "I think I'm pretty okay."

Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought that the bout of sickness this time actually made his body more healthy; the places that were always quietly hurting didn't feel like anything right now.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "Leave with me tomorrow then."

Cheng Qianli was stunned. "Leave? For where?"

Cheng Yixie, "a place that can save your life."

Cheng Qianli stared at Cheng Yixie in a daze. Cheng Yixie thought he'd at least ask some questions, but the fool nodded right then and there, concerned just enough to ask, "have you told mom and dad? They won't stop us, right?"

"No," Cheng Yixie said. "I've already talked to them."

Upon his return this time, he'd gotten a check-up at the hospital. The doctors had been shocked to find his body completely recovered from terminal disease. By all reason, this kind of congenital cardiovascular malformation had no treatment at all given the state of modern medicine, but there hadn't been a single symptom to be found on Cheng Yixie's body.

"Let him come with me. If he stays here he'll die," Cheng Yixie had told his parents. "Only I can save him. I'm the best example."

Faced with Cheng Yixie's somewhat absurd request, their parents had at first been a little hesitant. But after Cheng Yixie used his own healthy body as proof, they'd agreed to it in the end. Because even if they got to keep Cheng Qianli, the doctors didn't have any solutions. Since that was the case, why not let Cheng Yixie have a gamble?

After that, Cheng Yixie successfully took Cheng Qianli with him out of the hospital, and the two returned to Obsidian.

Obsidian was a warm place. Cheng Yixie rejoiced that he had been able to meet such a group of people. But Cheng Qianli was only a kid who practically grew up in the hospital—he was scared of the dark and a wimp. Though his body was growing gradually healthier after entering the doors, he still couldn't manage to extricate himself from that terrifying world.

He couldn't sleep because of the nightmares; every night he came to Cheng Yixie crying, barefoot, hugging a pillow and saying, "Ge, I had a nightmare again…"

Cheng Yixie was at his computer looking up information. He turned his head back and shot Cheng Qianli a look, before gesturing with his chin for Cheng Qianli to get on the bed.

Cheng Qianli obediently crawled into the large bed behind him, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

"Ge, aren't you scared?"

Cheng Yixie, "scared of what?"

"Of ghosts," Cheng Qianli answered.

"What's so scary about ghosts," Cheng Yixie said. "I'm not scared of ghosts."

"Then what are you scared of?" Cheng Qianli's voice asked from behind him.

This question, Cheng Yixie did not answer for Cheng Qianli. Cool light spilled from the computer screen onto his impassive face. He didn't want to say what he feared out loud, because it felt like if he said it it would come true.

Cheng Qianli didn't pursue the question, either. His even breathing came from behind—he was just a kid, after all. Once he wasn't scared anymore, he fell quickly asleep.

A few days later, Cheng Qianli saw Cheng Yixie come into the house with a furry lump in his arms. Before Cheng Qianli could react, Cheng Yixie was tossing that lump into his arms. The lump perked up its furry little butt and lapped like crazy at Cheng Qianli's cheek with its tongue. It licked Cheng Qianli into giggles, and Cheng Qianli registered then that the lump was an adorable little corgi—he exclaimed in a moment of pure delight, "it's a corgi! Ge!! I love you!!"

Cheng Yixie nodded at Cheng Qianli, turned around, and left.

What kid didn't like animals? It was just that their physical conditions before hadn't allowed them such hobbies. Now that Cheng Qianli was getting healthy, he'd given Cheng Qianli a long-coveted present.

Of course Cheng Qianli was happy beyond words, gobbling up extra bites of dinner that night. He even went around excitedly collecting everybody's opinion on what to name the dog, before finally making a decision—Toast.

Toast was the little corgi's name.

With Toast around, Cheng Qianli's mental state got a lot better. He no longer sought Cheng Yixie out at night because he couldn't sleep.

Cheng Yixie would sometimes go to his room and check on him in the middle of the night. He'd see the kid sprawled out with limbs akimbo, bent in all sorts of strange ways on the bed. And Toast would be lying right next to him, sleeping with its belly up—the two of them, one large and one small, made a particularly harmonious scene.

And Cheng Yixie would look away. When he closed the door behind him that night, he saw Ruan Nanzhu standing and smoking in the hallway.

"You're up so late?" Ruan Nanzhu asked him.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "Couldn't sleep."

"It's his second door in two days. Nervous?" Ruan Nanzhu said.

Cheng Yixie was silent for a while, before nodding and admitting to the anxiety deep in his heart.

"It's never easy." Ruan Nanzhu stubbed out his cigarette. "And you're still so young…I'll go in with you."

Cheng Yixie thanked Ruan Nanzhu in response.

Ruan Nanzhu said nothing, just started back to his room. But when he pushed his door open, his footsteps halted, and he looked back at Cheng Yixie.

"But he'll have to grow up sooner or later."

Cheng Yixie met Ruan Nanzhu's eyes. He knew what Ruan Nanzhu meant.

"You can't protect him forever," Ruan Nanzhu said.

"Do you think he can do it?" Cheng Yixie asked. "Do you think, he can come as far as I have?"

Ruan Nanzhu sighed, and said nothing more.

Some things could be achieved with hard work, but other things could only be gotten through talent. Though it wasn't fair, this was the case for the world of the doors.

Some people were naturally suited to enter the doors. They were calm and clever; even in the most dangerous moments, they could think of ways to escape.

But some people couldn't.

Cheng Yixie was a person suited to the doors, but his brother Cheng Qianli was just a regular dumb kid.

Cheng Yixie didn't know how many times he'd fantasized about this—what a fortunate thing it would be if they had healthy bodies.

Cheng Qianli would grow up normally. Perhaps he'd be a bit stupid, and his grades would mean headaches for their parents, but that was fine. He would have a clever older brother. His brother could watch over him.

But all these fantasies were simply wishful thinking.

Cheng Yixie returned to his room. Nobody knew better than he did that Cheng Qianli was not suited to the doors. If things progressed down their regular tracks, Cheng Qianli would most likely very quickly die in the following doors.

But how could Cheng Yixie let all that happen? He'd already decided the path that he would walk.

Three days later, Ruan Nanzhu and the Cheng twins entered Cheng Qianli's second door together.

This door was not particularly difficult, but to Cheng Qianli, it was still horribly thrilling; he was screaming of fright the whole time.

Cheng Yixie asked him, "how the hell did you even survive your first door?"

"I don't know," Cheng Qianli said. "I just went quietly to bed every night, and then one day I saw an open door. It was all bright inside, and after I walked in, I was out…"

Both Cheng Yixie and Ruan Nanzhu sank into a peculiar silence at this. It looked like fortune favors fools really was a wise saying.

After exiting his second door, Cheng Qianli got sick again for over a week. The doctor said it was caused by an excess amount of right.

Cheng Yixie watched over him as he got his IV drip, and Cheng Qianli was all wilted and sticky with sickness. He asked Cheng Yixie, "gege, how do I get better at this?"

Cheng Yixie patted his forehead, saying nothing.

"Will I get better if I stop being scared of ghosts," Cheng Qianli said. "I've decided, I'm going to watch a scary movie every day once we're back…"

Cheng Yixie wanted to sigh, but in the end, couldn't do it. He only spoke lightly, "focus on getting better first. Everything else, there's no rush. Ge's here."

Cheng Qianli nodded obediently.

Cheng Yixie thought Cheng Qianli had only been saying so, but after he got better, he actually did start watching scary movies. And one per day. Every single day he would be curled up in the living room with a blanket wrapped around his entire body, still scaring as badly as a quail each time.

Cheng Yixie was exasperated, but didn't try to talk him out of it. It pretty much looked like Cheng Qianli's courage wasn't something that could be built up.

Though Cheng Qianli wasn't particularly strong, he injected a different kind of life into Obsidian.

When the group grew numb from the torment of the terrifying doors, the upbeat Cheng Qianli was just like an oil pastel, swiping rich colors back onto Obsidian and filling the place with the breath of life.

If only the days could continue on like this, how nice would that be? Cheng Yixie wouldn't think this just the once. Some things, however, couldn't be avoided just by hiding.

Everything changed in Cheng Yixie's seventh door.

That door was vicious beyond measure, and Cheng Yixie was the only survivor. Just as he was stumbling out the door, he got his hands on a hint slip different from all others.

A detailed hint for the next door was written on the slip of paper.

In that moment, Cheng Yixie didn't comprehend just how this hint slip would change the tracks out under his life. He was still rejoicing, rejoicing that he'd once again escaped disaster, rejoicing that he'd gotten a hint to the eighth door, rejoicing that he'd be able to see Cheng Qianli again.

But a long, long time later, when he remembered this moment, he would realize that the Cheng Yixie back then had been standing at the crossroads of fate.

On one side of fate was hell. And on the other, was also hell.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(1)] | [Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(3)]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #my tl pace has slowed :')

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years

Text

Zuko x female reader series: Part One

Imagine being General Zhao’s daughter and the rebellious childhood best friend of Prince Zuko. You haven’t seen him since he was banished but come across his ship at sea and are reunited. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Zuko’s scar and he’s worried what you’ll think of it. Zuko’s particularly worried because despite being just friends your opinion matters a lot to him, because he’s just a bit (a lot) in love with you.

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

Part Five here

Part Six here

Zuko’s POV

As soon as an admiral took over Zuko’s ship anger took over his body but then when he realised it was Zhao his anger faded. If Zhao was here that might mean you were too....with this in mind Zuko held his temper as Zhao swaned onto his ship and started giving his crew orders. Zuko searched all of Zhao’s crew mates but he couldn’t see you. He was barely listening to what Zhao was saying so eager to just see you, it’d been 3 long years and Zuko just wondered how you’d changed. When you didn’t appear Zuko sighed in defeat, he was itching to ask, to request to see you but he knew he couldn’t. Banishment forbid Zuko from contacting any one in any form, if he was to see you it’d have to be by chance and there was no way your father would let that happen. A fact made even more apparent as Zhao stood there smirking at the banished prince of the firenation, almost daring Zuko to dare mention your name. Iroh knew what Zuko wanted to ask, he’d seen his change in body language the second your father’s name was mentioned and he’d hoped you’d appear to lift his nephews spirits but you didn’t. He knew Zuko missed you but he also knew Zuko cared too much about you to risk dragging your name down with him. If it got out he’d been asking about you he could get you into trouble. So Zuko couldn’t ask about you but that didn’t mean Iroh couldn’t. “And where is your lovely daughter admiral? I heard she’s got a fleet just like yours”. Zuko tensed shocked and Zhao narrowed his eyes looking from Iroh to Zuko. Zuko’s eyes grew wide but he managed not to show any more emotion as held his breath, waiting for Zhao’s reply. “She’s not here” Zhao said smugly as he saw the prince’s posture slump, it was a micromovement but still Zhao noticed and smiled. “I sent her and her naval fleet to guard the fire nation borders”. “Aw that’s a shame” Iroh smiled sadly but he saw the look in Zhao’s eyes. The man was lying, you were here and he was going to buy Zuko some time with you. “How about a tour of your fleet Admiral?” he grinned at Zhao “one does not see a fleet as impressive as this every day”. Zhao smiled his ego stroked and nodded “of course, will the prince be joining us?”. Zuko glared and Iroh smiled “you stay here then, keep an eye on things” he smirked but his hint went right over Zuko’s head. The thought of seeing you had excited him but of course you weren’t here...nothing ever worked out for him. Zuko grunted and retreated to his room to sulk. Iroh scanned the horizon, he hoped you found Zuko and quickly, he would like to see his nephew smile again.

Your POV

You watched your father leave Zuko’s boat and smirked to only see Iroh with him, if you were a betting woman (and you were) you’d bet Zuko was still on the ship, probably sulking inside. You father tried to keep it a secret from you Zuko's boat was here but you had many eyes and ears throughout the fleet, mainly belonging to the workers who liked you because you didn’t threaten to burn them over any inconvenience unlike your father. The workers had whispered it to you and you discreetly made your way to the front of the fleet and boarded Zuko’s boat the second it was safe to. The crew apparently were expecting you, you suspected that was Iroh’s doing, and let you into Zuko’s quarters easily. You pushed open his door and smirked to see the familiar broad swords and belongings you’d forgotten about. Zuko was hunched over a desk in semi darkness and didn’t even look up when you entered. “I said I didn’t want to come on the tour uncle” he snapped and you smirked leaning against the door frame. “Well fine then guess I’ll go back to my own ship”. Zuko’s head snapped around so quickly you worried he’d get whip lash. “Y/n” he cried and rushed onto his feet. "The one and only" you smiled and walked forwards. It was weird neither of you were particularly sentimental but seeing each other again after 3 years you rushed to each other and just crumpled into one another. You only even hugged Zuko to embarass him but this was a serious hug. You clutched one another and held onto each other so tightly it hurt before seperating both grinning. "Zuko" you smiled and Zuko grinned back at you "it’s so good to see you but how...your father said you weren’t here". "So i figured" you rolled your eyes "now your reputation is questionable we wants to stop me associating with you, like him telling me that would stop me" you commented and Zuko’s grin got bigger. God you’d missed seeing that smile. "Still as headstrong as ever I see” Zuko smirked “the fire nation academy for girls hasn’t managed to change that?". You snorted "they tried but i’m pretty high ranking you know" you joked and Zuko laughed. You’d missed that laugh even more than the smile. Just happy to be in Zuko’s presence you just stared at him taking in everything detail of your best friend’s face before your eyes wandered to his scar. You hadn’t seen the scar before. You were away on a naval trip when Zuko was banished so this was the first time you’d seen it and you couldn’t help focusing on it. Zuko noticed you staring and went to turn that side of his face away self conscious and you winced “Zuko don’t!". Zuko paused and hesitated but obediently moved his head back so he was facing you, touching his scar awkwardly. "I forget you haven’t seen it before" he said quietly “that you weren’t there...”. You always felt guilty for not being there when Zuko was banished, you might’ve been able to stop it or atleast could’ve endured his punishment with him, so he didn’t have to face it alone. But you were at sea and didn’t even get back in time to say goodbye as your best friend was sent away for virtually forever. "What’s the verdict?” Zuko asked in an effort to fill the awkwardness “you were never one to lie to spare feelings so honestly how ugly does it look?". Zuko looked so sad, so beaten it broke you. Sure he’d never been particularly cheery but he’d never looked this sad before. An idea formed in your head and you smirked inwardly. "Honestly?" you asked wincing pretending to inspect his face and Zuko nodded staring at the ground. You smiled "well you were never a looker as a kid Zuko and i’m just saying that as your best friend okay! But you've grown up handsome scar and all" you grinned "if anything it makes you look dangerous, very attractive". Zuko blushed, grinned and looked away all at once. You smiled to see he no longer looked sad. "Shut up" Zuko managed to mutter and your smirk rose "i will not! I will tell everyone who will listen back at the palace how hot you’ve become". Zuko’s cheeks were almost as red as his scar as he put a hand infront of his face to hide it making you laugh. “I’ll be sure to say it infront of Mai in particular” you grinned bumping him with your elbow and Zuko’s blush grew. You took that to be because Zuko liked Mai but couldn’t be more wrong. Yes Zuko had been fond of Mai and he liked being around her but he always liked being around you more. When it became obvious you didn’t like him as anything more than a friend Zuko was heartbroken and started looking around for other options. Mai was one of those options and she was a good option, she was smart, beautiful, high ranking and they got along. Zuko had enjoyed dating her but it was never as good as it was just hanging out with you and that thought flooded back to Zuko the moment he saw you. He liked Mai but he was in love with you and nothing would ever change that. You took Zuko’s silence as him being shy and smiled grabbing onto his arm “awww look I made the prince blush”. “Stop it” Zuko said trying to get out of your grip but you only hugged him harder. “I will not! As your best friend it’s my job to tease you and I really am going to go tell Mai how ruggedly handsome you’ve grown, ponytail and all” you smirked twirling his hair with your fingers. Zuko managed to break out of your embrace and you laughed. “You see Mai often at the palace?” Zuko asked and you nodded flopping into one of his chairs. “Yeah we hang out some times” you explained and smiled to see Zuko’s shocked expression. “Suprisingly we get along rather well when you're not around, guess it’s cus we forget how gorgeous you are so can stop fighting over you for two minutes and talk" you said dramatically and Zuko blushed. Zuko remembered well the tension between you and Mai. Mai hadn’t trusted how close the two of you were, Mai thought Zuko liked you and she wasn’t wrong Zuko realised. Sure this banishment had made him realise how much he cared for you but it had always been there, he’d always cared about you more than anyone else since you were kids. "I forgot how embarassing you are" Zuko commented and you grinned at him. Zuko took the chance to examine your face and noticed all the ways it had changed in the years you’d been seperated. To Zuko’s eyes you’d only grown more beautiful but he knew that would be the case. Silence settled and Zuko’s face went all serious which you knew meant he wanted to tell you something. "It’s really good to see you” Zuko said into the floor “I’ve missed you a lot y/n" and you looked up at him suprised, Zuko never spoke about his emotions, atleast not so openly, you usually had to force them out of him. "Ive missed you too" you smiled taking his hand "when i got back and you were gone and when I heard your ridiculous mission...I worried I’d never see you again” you trailed off and tears filled your eyes. Zuko blinked shocked to see you so serious when you always had a smile or chip on your shoulder. But soon enough you shook your head and smiled again “so hurry up and capture the avatar so you can come home yeah?". Zuko laughed and nodded squeezing your hand “trust me I’m trying”. “Any way I can help, no matter how big, just tell me” you told him “I’ll do it and won’t tell a soul, I just need you back Zuko, you know I’m always thinking of you don’t you?”.”You haven’t forgotten me?” Zuko asked bashfully and you scoffed. “How could I forget my best friend! The person who made growing up in that hell hole bareable! The person who’d sneak me into the palace to get at the fancy food and then bail me out when I got caught. The person who gave me this scar” you smirked pointing to the large one on your arm “because he was so bad at sheathing his knives! Or the boy who gave me a turtle duck for my birthday when I was 8 because he knew I liked them but we didn’t have a pond”. Zuko smiled “you named it Jeremiah...how is he?”. “Good” you grinned “the point is i’ll never forget you, ever Zuko and soon enough you’ll be home again but until then I’ll keep your memory alive”. Zuko felt more emotion in these minutes then he’d felt in years. He knew he loved you, no matter all the times he’d tried to convince himself it wasn’t that serious, and was just overcome with the urge to tell you. He’d been terrified to admit his feelings to you for years but now he didn’t know if or when he’d next see you. What did he have to lose? “Y/n...” he started sitting forward “there’s something I’ve got to tell you...I’ve known for years but was too scared to....” when the door was thrown open. “Y/n” Zhao yelled storming into the room, Iroh close behind him “what are you doing in here?”. You rolled your eyes “seeing an old friend dad what does it look like?”. Your father looked furious but you were used to it now. “I told you to stay on your ship” your father glared and Zuko got angry at his tone. “It was my fault I asked her to come”. You shot Zuko a grin, he was always trying to cover for you but not this time. “No he didn’t, I found him, you had no buisness keeping this from me, Zuko’s my friend you know I’d do anything to see him”. Your father looked from you to Zuko and nodded, he had no doubt about that. He’d known the prince was in love with you for a while and back when he was an actual prince that had been good, now we was a rejected prince there was no way he’d encourage that. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get us in for this! You know you’re not allowed any contact with the traitor!” you dad yelled. You felt Zuko tense and stood infront of him blocking him from your father’s view. “Zuko’s not in the fire nation and neither are we, there’s no rule about avoiding him if our ships come close to one another and it’s not like I was here long”. “Still” Zhao glared “Ozai won’t like it! His punishment doesn’t include chats with friends”. You rolled your eyes “Zuko’s dad will never find out, who’s going to tell him?”. “I won’t” Iroh said helpfully and you nodded to your dad “see”. Your dad glared “fine but I want you out of here now! We are not risking falling out of favour just so you could see that excuse of a boy”.You rolled your eyes “whatever but let me say goodbye atleast”. Your dad went to object but you spun to face Zuko ignoring him. “Zuko i’m sorry whatever you had to say will have to wait till the next time I see you”. “whenever that is” Zuko muttered and you frowned. “Don’t talk like that” you commanded “I’ll see you again soon Zuko”. Zuko didn’t look convinced so you forced him to look at you closely. “Have I ever lied to you before? ever?”. “Many times” Zuko replied and you rolled your eyes “no about something as serious as this?”. “No” Zuko admitted and you smiled “see, so i’m telling the truth, i’ll see you soon enough, it won’t be that long, if anyone can do this mission it’s you, I know it!”. Zuko blushed and your father coughed “y/n now!”. “I’m coming” you snapped before you smiled at Zuko and hugged him tightly. Your father made an angry noise and Zuko blushed feeling his glares, he was hyper away many people were watching but hugged you back anyway. “I’ll miss you Zuko but nothing will ever stop you being my best friend”. Zuko blushed and nodded “I know”. “Y/n” your dad snapped and you nodded. “I love you Zuko” you smiled and his blush skyrocketed. He knew you didn’t mean it like he did but still hearing you say that... Zuko was aware of what a spectacle you were causing but it only made him smile more. You were always one to cause a scene, constantly over the top so he knew you were doing this to embarass him one last time before you left. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of winning so just replied honestly. ”I love you too” Zuko said and you grinned suprised he’d actually said it back as your father came and grabbed your arm “that’s enough”. You glared at him but squeezed Zuko’s hand “goodbye Zuko”. “Goodbye Y/n, i’ll be home soon, just you wait and see” and you grinned at him one last time before letting your father drag you out.

Zuko’s POV

Zuko watched you go ignoring the way his uncle was smirking at him or the way his chest now felt empty again. He would do everything and anything to capture the avatar so he could get back to the firenation. Not for his father, not for his reputation, not even to regain his honour but for you. Zuko would do anything necessary to get back to you, nothing not even an impossible mission would get in his way.

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Six

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII, LIV, LV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Biela was in one of the cities of Assyra, helping provide some form of comfort and support to the many grieving families left without their young. The cities of her kingdom were slowly building their way back to their former glory thanks to the war ending, but there was still much, much work to be done.

And she would not rest until it was.

She was still half tempted to take her frustrations out on that angel and his foolish cousin who decided to defy nature in her lands, leaving her people to pay the consequences. But she held back, if only so they could live with what they had done.

Dacia and Caius both were with her to provide as much light and warmth in this time, something she had always lacked the ability to provide. Dacia stood by her side while combing the streets for a period of respite.

“I do hope this haunts them,” Biela said, darkly, letting Dacia link their arms together.

“I am sure it will,” Dacia replied. “Levant and Amara both.”

“Hmph.”

They let silence fall for a bit longer when she felt a tugging at her skirt. She nearly thought it was some mangy animal, but stopped moving when she realized it was a child that was clinging to her skirts, clearly trying to keep herself from tumbling to the ground.

“Who’s child is this?” Biela demanded, looking around.

Dacia was already moving to scooping her up when Biela locked eyes on a violet eyed child that had a hand half reaching for the toddler in Dacia’s arms. She nearly went after them had it not been for their bolting like a rabbit, likely to get as far away from Biela as physically possible.

Of course it ran. Biela never had much luck with children capable of forming their own opinions. They more often than not were best left silent. But for some reason, this particular toddler decided to demand her attention.

Dacia seemed to be looking the child over, checking for cuts or bruises, though she couldn’t find any. She gave Biela a look that had Biela frowning at her. “What.”

“Well, clearly she had a home.”

“Oh really?” Biela asked. “From the looks of it I’d say she was missing a few requirements for that, considering her very dirty skin on top of her very dirty clothes.”

“Well all the more reason to take her with us,” Dacia replied. “Children are dying. We cannot let another fall through the cracks.”

“I suppose,” Biela said, eyeing the child staring right back at her. She squinted.

When the child removed her hand from her mouth, as soaked with slobber as it was, she still reached out for Biela. Biela frowned in distaste. She had been soaked in blood once, but she still was not a fan of fluids from infants. “I will not take you,” Biela retorted to the baby. “But fine, we will bring her with us.”

Biela thought back to the last thing Raziel had said to her the day before. That ‘Congratulations’ stuck out in Biela’s mind and she had half a thought to go wring that old bird’s neck.

She hated seers.

---

Lev was closing the door to Eden's nursery oh so carefully when Ash found him. And by found him, Lev meant Ash smacked the side of his leg with his cane. Lev stifled a yelp, so he didn’t wake Eden, and glared at Ash. It was safe to do so because Ash couldn’t see him.

“Ow,” Lev mumbled, sidestepping another sweep of the cane. “I- can I help you?” He paused, and quickly corrected himself. “Is everything okay?”

“Hm. Pick a new tone,” Ash said, flippantly. “I want you to make yourself useful and take me to Cameron’s library.”

Lev sighed softly, and started walking. “It’s this way,” he said, just to get Ash started. “Though I don’t think he’s got any books in braille.”

“Well lucky for me I’m not going to be the one doing the reading,” Ash replied, following after him.

“Am I-” Lev bit off his questions, and instead said, “It’s up these stairs, and then we’re gonna take a left.”

Ash slowly followed after him, taking one step at a time, clearly not quite used to climbing the stairs without the morsels of eyesight he once had.

Lev quietly narrated the path he took to one of the tables he liked to frequent during the few times he’d had the time to sequester himself away in the library. It was near the very meager collection of fiction Cameron had; most everything else in here seemed to be non-fiction of all sorts.

“I’m sure there’s a system,” Ash said, side stepping the things in his way. “Knowing Cameron it’s bound to be just as elaborate as his many personalities.” At Lev’s confusion Ash sighed. “A catalogue. Something to classify the books to keep them separate by title or genre or subject or something.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah. There is. Do- do you need me to find you a book?”

“I want you to find every book in Cameron’s library about the gods,” Ash said, leaning against one of the shelves. “You’re going to actually learn something about well, something aside from whatever romance novel you are currently gurgitating.”

“Gurgitating,” Lev mumbled to himself, trying not to sound annoyed. He puffed out a breath, and then, “I’ll see if I can find a few. There’s a table next to you if you want to sit.” Though Ash might prefer to stand, so he could complain about that too.

He could feel Ash’s glare against his back. “I’m coming with you, genius,” Ash said. “How about you knock the attitude off. I can feel your passive aggressive puffiness from here.”

Lev considered that, and then decided honesty was the best policy. “I’m just a little cranky,” he said, and then added, “And so are you. I’m sorry if I’ve been snapping at you, though. Shouldn’t take crankiness out on someone else. Not their fault.”

“Duly noted,” Ash said. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to someone who cares. Now take me to the books.”

Lev led the way, gathering every book Ash told him to, up until his arms started to get tired, and then he very firmly insisted they go back to the table. “I can’t carry any more,” he said, “And I certainly can’t read all of these in one sitting. The rest aren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s fine,” Ash said, taking a few books from him to tuck under his arm. “You won’t be able to retain all of what you need to know if you do that.”

Lev sighed, loud enough for Ash to definitely hear this time, but just settled down at his table, spreading the books out. Ash took the chair across from Lev and had him pull out the first book.

“Do you want me to read out loud?” Lev asked after a moment of staring at the introduction.

“Tell me what you know about the gods,” Ash said. “The angels should have given you a rudimentary understanding of each god in school, but angelic teachings tend… to embellish a little and make Asmi seem more important than the others. Which is not to say they’re not important,” Ash added, hastily. “As they are the god to the angels, but each is important and I want to figure out how much work you’re going to need to understand.”

Lev paused, trying to dig up memories well over a century old. “I knew of Asmi,” Lev confirmed. “And they said that demons split their worship between... Five? Five gods? I think? I know demonic magic is tied to specific gods. I think. Or- there’s a choosing?”

“There is Kaveh, the oldest- twin to Asmi, who is the one who created both the other gods and the demons. Demons were pulled from the earth as angels were the stars. Kaveh’s magic is one of the most powerful, bestowed as they are the oldest god in the pantheon,” Ash said. “They rule magic such as telepathy and forms of telekinesis and other mental based magics.”

Ash took a breath. “Asmi, as Kaveh’s twin, was born at the same time. It was just them alone in the universe, right? Asmi created the angels so of course they would become the patron to all angels. As they are tied to the natural balance, all our abilities come from nature.”

“Third,” Ash said, “Is Mizra. Mizra is the seer. Knows all that is, was and all that could be. They’re known for being relatively… prickly, I guess. Just like Kaveh, but a different flavor. Next is Ruya. Ruya is the god of echos and reigns over the illusion workers. And lastly is Basim who rules over empathy based magics. Anything having to do with the emotional spectrum. Each god has access to the rawest magic, but only demons can access the designated power that each god rules over.” He paused, took another breath and leaned back. “Does any of that make sense?”

Lev blinked several times. “I...” he trailed off. “That was a lot. But.. I think so?” Even though Ash couldn’t see, Lev ticked them off on his fingers, “Kaveh is the oldest, and rules mental magics. Asmi is balance, Mizra is the Sight, Ruya is echoes and illusions. And- Um. Bas- Basim is empaths?”

“Yes,” Ash said, satisfied. “They’re each patron to a particular person they find interesting, so a person can have two gods bugging them, but only hold power for one, if that makes sense? They might just… be a little more enhanced. Kaveh: the cunning and resourceful; Asmi: the natural order and witches; Mizra: survivors; Ruya: the wild and unchained, and Basim: patron to the merciful.”

“I... I think so?” Lev said hesitantly. “Does everyone have a god who is their patron? Or only specific people?”

Ash rose a shoulder. “I think it’s just certain people that the gods have taken a liking to. I haven’t read anything about every single demon having a patron on top of their god.”

Lev nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said out loud after a moment. “I think that makes sense.” He tapped his thumb on the book, and then asked thoughtfully, “Do gods favor bloodlines? I never really paid much attention to if demons’ magic was genetic or not...”

“I do think sometimes it’s through bloodlines, unless a god has deliberately chosen the child. Their magic usually comes in around five to seven years old; just like an angel’s,” Ash said. “The gods wait to see what the child will grow into and go from there.”

“That makes sense,” Lev mumbled, more to himself than anything, and then said, “So there’s no real way to know what kind of magic Eden will have, then?”

“Not until she’s close to five, no.”

Lev gave a small hum. “Does Asmi ever choose demons?” He asked, just out of sheer curiosity.

“If they find a liking to a person, sure,” Ash said. “They’ll most likely bless that bloodline. Isn’t Sorin a demon with fire magic anyways? Also, Asmi likely is responsible for the few powerful bloodlines of demonic healers. They’re very rare, just like elemental demonic users.”

Lev gave a few blinks. “I didn’t-” He thought again. “Right. Fax’s cousin.” After another awkward pause, he added, “I forgot. Fax had fire magic too. He just so rarely used it. Mostly to light his cigarettes or the fireplace.”

Ash looked vaguely disapproving with the mention of cigarettes, but said nothing about it. “Sazra’s bloodline is most likely one blessed by Asmi. She’s one of the very few demonic healers I have met. And she’s a very strong one at that. Probably why she was in this house for so long. Demons were never very kind to their healers- always enslaved them.”

Oh. Lev looked down. “I’m guessing she wouldn’t want my pity,” he said slowly.

“Probably not,” Ash said. “But back to what I was saying. Power and magic are tied to the gods and the gods are tied to us. Sometimes even the gods walk among the people, though Asmi is somewhat trapped in their realm whereas the other gods are not.” Ash grimaced. “Instead they get to use me as their mouthpiece.”

“They’re trapped?” Lev asked, his concern getting dragged away from Sazra. “That sounds awful.”

“Less trapped and more they don’t have a physical form,” Ash admitted. “If they want company from us mere mortals they are very capable of yanking us to them.”

“Oh,” Lev said, considering that. “Do they do that often?”

“I’m not sure with other people besides me,” Ash said, “but they sure do like my company. Maybe a little too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said honestly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s fine,” Ash said. “I’ll manage.”

Lev frowned, but Ash couldn’t see. He tapped the book with his thumb. “Do the gods talk directly to their followers often? Like when... when Asmi spoke to me, before I came back? Or did they only do so because I was... partly dead.”

“I think… they were curious and infuriated. Not many people show up on the gods' radar. When they do, they take notice.”

Lev nodded. “So they don’t visit people often. And that’s true for all the gods?”

Ash lifted a shoulder. “From what I’ve seen, yeah. Maybe us mere mortals aren’t all that interesting in the grand scheme of things, though I’m sure they do find our little lives absolutely hilarious sometimes.”

“Ah,” Lev said, rubbing his face. “I suppose bastardizing nature would put me on their radar,” he sighed.

“And now we don’t have magic,” Ash said, sardonically. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Asmi soon.”

---

Cameron was seated in the chair while Darius napped. He had been working on the backed up paperwork from the last several days. He had a solid chunk of paperwork from both the club and further Obsidian Court workings when there was a feather light knock on the door.

He bit back his irritable sigh and looked up to see one of the sentries standing stiffly in the doorway. Cameron flicked Darius a look, to make sure he was still sleeping before fixing his attention on the sentry. “What do you want?”

“There’s an angel here,” they said.

“I am aware there are several angels here,” Cameron said, crossly. “Be more specific.”

“Raziel,” he rushed out. “Um, she said her name was Raziel.”

Oh brilliant. “And what does that overcooked chicken want?” Cameron said, flatly. “Lev is unable to speak with his family for the next several decades.”

“She’s here for you, sir.”

“You can tell Raziel to fly her carcass back to her roost,” Cameron said, turning his focus back to his work, dismissing the sentry to do his bidding.

Cameron had but a few moments of peace before the sentry returned, looking rather ashened. “I’m afraid she was rather insistent, sir.”

Cameron sighed sharply out of his nose and got to his feet. The sentry stiffened slightly as Cameron walked past him, ordering him to not take his eyes off Darius while Cameron dealt with the ancient angel.

“And to what do I owe this displeasure,” Cameron said, eyeing Raziel, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Mizra sent me,” Raziel said, irritatingly calm as always. “So unfortunately, I am not able to leave until I’ve passed their message along.”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I haven’t been to a temple in well over five hundred years.” In fact, he had never stepped foot inside one to begin with. “Why would they bother themselves with my presence now?”

“Both kingdoms are healing,” Raziel said. “And they’re tired of waiting for you to come to them. I’m sure if I hadn’t reached out to them for my own reasons they would have found another way to reach out to you and demand you listen.”

Cameron fixed his jaw. “We’ll speak in my office,” he said, walking past her.

Raziel followed him, staying a good three paces behind him until they reached the office. She even settled in the chair without prompting, hooking one knee over the other.

Cameron took his place behind his desk and leaned back. He eyed her for a few seconds, trying to figure the best approach to handle both Mizra and Raziel. “I have not participated in the Rite,” Cameron said, evenly. “I am not able to, so I do not have any connections with Mizra.”

Every demon born had their god and had their own coming of age where they cemented their connection to their god. Every demon, legitimate or not, was supposed to form the connections with their god in order to fully claim their abilities. Cameron never had, his mother had forbade it, so his magic was barely a whisper of anything- calling it a magic felt like too grand of a word. He had never spoken to a priestess, of any god. Cameron had no Rite to claim.

Raziel didn’t even blink. “Then complete it. Before Mizra starts meddling more personally.”

“I do not have the time,” Cameron said. “And I am now much too old. Have been for well over five hundred years.”

“Make time. Your god demands it.” She flicked her fingers at him. “Your household doesn’t need a second god looking at it with ire. Nothing I remember of the Rite says you can’t complete it later in life.” Her silver eyes tracked his every minute move. “I’m sure you’re not the only one with subpar parents.”

“I suggest you do not speak ill of my parents,” Cameron said, flippantly. “They’re my problem and they’re also dead. No need for you to make judgements that do not pertain to you. Besides, the Rite is a demonic passage. Perhaps you should keep to your own lane in that matter. I will make time, but it will have to wait.” Cameron rubbed his temples, alleviating the growing pressure. “As I said, I am busy.”

“I did not mean offense,” Raziel said mildly. “I spoke only of what Mizra told me. And on top of what they’ve said of your parents, ill or otherwise, they have insisted you speak to them.”

“What part of ‘I am busy’ seems to get lost in your decrepit mind?” Cameron snapped.

It was then that Cameron felt himself be… pulled somewhere; he and Raziel both. Cameron went very still when a very pale… being was standing in front of him. Mizra, he presumed, with their pale skin and white hair, almost a similar likeness to himself. They looked less than pleased to drag him here into their realm. “When I request you,” they said, coolly. “I do not mean to be put off for something you consider more important. There is nothing more important than I, do you understand me?”

“My apologies,” Cameron said. “I did not mean any disrespect.”

Mizra’s eyes narrowed. “There is not an ounce of respect in your frail little body, Cameron Luain.”

“Mizra,” Raziel said. “It would make pulling us here rather pointless if you lose your temper now.” And then she smiled at the god.

Mizra fixed their mouth into a thin line. “Your mother,” they said, turning back to face Cameron, “defied my wishes when she decided to keep you from me in attempt to keep you powerless.” Cold washed down Cameron’s skin. “She is now rotting in the ground and no longer an obstacle, therefore, I am very kindly requesting you have the Rite performed.”

Cameron flicked Raziel a glance before tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I suppose I will make the time,” he bit out, bowing his head slightly.

He could feel their very smug faint smile directed his way. “Very good,” they said. “It seems when I told Raziel to fix you, I had not accounted for how foolishly bullheaded you male creatures are.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Raziel interjected. “I apologize I was not able to successfully pass along your message on my own.”

Mizra frowned at her. “Yes, I do suppose you did fail in your one task, Raziel. I had expected far better from someone I had blessed.”

“I suppose I’m out of practice,” Raziel replied. “I’ll do better next time.” If Cameron didn’t know better he’d say Raziel’s silver eyes, so eerily similar to Mizra’s, crinkled with affection at the god.

“As you should,” Mizra said, primly. “Failure is unacceptable and I would so hate to find someone else to keep me company. Most of you mortals are rather boring.”

Cameron was rapidly growing all the more irritable with these too ancient beings and found the phantom pain in his head to be growing steadily behind his eye.

Mizra cut their focus to Cameron. “And while I have you here,” they said, “I expect you to start eating something. You’re too thin and disgusting. You need to eat more.”

Cameron stared blankly at the god. “You want me to eat more?” he echoed.

Why would a god care about his eating habits?

“Oh please,” Mizra huffed, “I do detest repeating myself.”

“I could always check in on him,” Raziel offered.

Cameron cut her a withering glare. The last thing he needed was Raziel to babysit him. “Last I checked,” Cameron said, “you were barred from Lev’s presence.”

Mizra waved a dismissive hand. “You make it sound like I care what your little king wants,” Mizra said. “Raziel will do my bidding and hold your hand if need be.”

Cameron felt rage boil under his skin, but promptly kept his mouth shut.

“I highly doubt I’ll need to go that far,” Raziel said, amused.

“Was there anything else you required of me,” Cameron bit out.

“Oh very well, very well,” Mizra said, “If you’re going to act like a child I will send you back. Raziel, I will speak to you soon.”

With that, Cameron felt himself be dropped into his body.

Raziel looked annoyingly unruffled. “So I’ll see you next week?” She said lightly.

Cameron got to his feet and leaned over his desk. “Get the hell out of my house right now,” he snapped. “If you are not off of my property in the next five minutes I will not be so pleasant. Get out now.”

Raziel lifted a single brow, but stood gracefully. “I’ll let you know before I come over next time,” she said on her way out. “Do not make Mizra wait much longer. They have much less patience than I.”

Cameron let the door shut behind her before he nearly collapsed in his chair. He grabbed his head, tight, hoping to alleviate the pressure building, but it did very little.

---

Nik woke from his nap, still angry and irritable. The last twenty-four hours had not done much for his temper so he had taken a nap. And that did not help either. He wandered the house and found a rather beautiful man in the bedroom, sitting up in the bed. “Well you must be Darius,” Nik said, crossly.

The man gave him a rather mild smile and nodded.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “So are you crippled and can’t talk or are you being annoying on purpose.” When Darius didn’t say anything, because of course he didn’t, Nik said, “Right, whatever. So I guess you’re Cameron’s boyfriend or something? And you were dead, so why didn’t you stay dead? Nevermind, that’s stupid. I guess if you were going to defy nature, you might as well do it for Cameron.”

Darius cocked his head and reached for a pad of paper only to scribble a ‘It’s nice to meet you, Nik.’

“Oh please,” Nik said, “I’m being a dickhead to you. You don’t need to lie to me.”

‘I’m not lying,’ Darius wrote. ‘I’m rather used to crass language when people are upset.”

“I’m being crass?” Nik demanded. “I think you being alive is rather inconvenient for me since everyone in this damned house knows who the hell you are besides me.”

‘I apologize for Cameron not telling you,’ Darius said. ‘It was all rather sudden. I do hope we can be friends, Nik.’

Nik rolled his eyes. “Do I look like someone who has friends?”

‘Ash and Amara seem rather fond of you,’ Darius observed.

Nik rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, Ash and Amara make bad choices daily, so I wouldn’t hold either of them to a high standard. Case in point: bringing people back from the dead and killing a million kids, but hey, what do I know?”

And now he’s in the line of fire.

Sympathy shone in Darius’ eyes and it took tremendous effort to not wipe that infuriating look off his face. “Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped. “I’m not Cameron and I’m sure as hell not Lev. Puppy eyes don’t work on me.”

‘Well, I’m actually a cat.’

“Oh great,” Nik said. “You’re a cat.”

Darius gave him a dry, feline smile. ‘Not a fan of cats?’

“Not this particular one.”

‘If it helps,’ Darius wrote. ‘Cameron loathes cats as well.”

“Well he clearly likes you,” Nik said, frowning. “If you claw up my clothes, I’ll cut your hair off.”

‘Well, I will make a note to leave your clothes alone,’ Darius replied.

“I think you enjoy mocking me,” Nik said. “You get to waltz in and drop into my relationship because Cameron killed you or something. I’m sure the whole thing was very traumatic.”

That was the moment Lev chose to poke his head in. His brows furrowed in his usual expression of worry, and he was quick to cross the room. Nik folded his arms as he watched Lev kiss Darius on the cheek.

Traitor.

Lev was just as quick to tuck himself into Nik’s side, however, insistently tugging at Nik’s arms until he could pull it around his shoulders. Against his will, Nik felt himself loosening as Lev scented him, a low soothing purr coming from Lev as he did.

“Is everything okay?” Lev asked.

“I mean I guess,” Nik said, crossly. “I wake up to him in my bed that I can’t even sleep in because I guess it was his bed first, or something.”

Lev nosed at Nik’s jaw lightly. “It was,” Lev said unhelpfully, and then, with irritating optimism, Lev added, “We can pick another room. Any room. I doubt Cameron will make you stay in the rooms he’s moved us to right now. And I also doubt he’d say no about much of anything when it comes to decorating your new room. Not right now, anyway. The opportunities are almost endless.”

“Whatever,” Nik said. “I have to move around my life because Cameron felt bad for killing the guy.” He glared at Darius frowning at him. “You’re not special,” he said. “Just because you’re some pretty face doesn’t mean shit. We’re all pretty faces. Don’t expect me to get in line to kiss your ass like everyone else.”

Darius blinked at him, seemingly bewildered, but he just nodded at him.

“Nikolas,” Lev chastised, but even his scolding was tempered by worry. “Darius hasn’t done anything. And I was the one that asked for him; I’m the one that told Cameron he was still there.” Lev hesitated, and then added gently, “Darius helped me while I was dead. He kept me steady, kept me sane. He deserves another chance as much as I do. More. He’s a kind person, Nik. That’s all.”

Nik sighed through his nose. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Is Cameron home or is he going to resurrect some other not-boyfriend?”

Lev shrugged. “Last I saw he was in here with Darius, so I don’t know.”

‘I think he’s in his office,’ Darius offered.

“I’m hungry,” Nik mumbled, pathetically.

“I can go get Cameron,” Lev offered, oh-so-helpfully. “With everything going on I don't think it’s a good idea for us to touch anything in his kitchen. Besides, Eden should wake up from her nap soon, and she’ll need a snack too.”

“Okay.”

---

Lev knocked on Cameron’s office door lightly, but didn’t wait to open it. The room was dark, and Lev almost assumed it was empty, but he heard a quiet, “Shut the door,” from the direction of Cameron’s desk, so he slipped inside, closing it obediently.

After letting his eyes adjust, Lev realized Cameron was bent over the desk, head in his arms. Lev chose to approach slowly, hovering his hand over Cameron’s shoulder before ultimately letting it drop back to his side instead. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“I’m fine,” Cameron said, stiffly. “Just a headache.”

Right. Lev worried his lip between his teeth. “Nik’s hungry,” he finally said. “I can make him something, if you’d like.”

“Fine,” Cameron said, dismissively. “Just clean up after yourself.”

Lev nodded, but didn’t move. “I had something else to ask,” he finally said. “If that’s okay?”

“Alright.”

“I should probably get back to training, if I can get Ash to sign off on it? Or Sazra?” Lev fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, and then grimaced. “Or- can I? I don't- it doesn’t have to be you, but- I had planned- without my magic- well, without my magic, I really am useless, aren’t I? And I don’t like feeling like I’m a vulnerability for Nik, especially when he’s pregnant.” He took a deep breath, hardened his tone. “I won’t let anything happen to my mate.”

“Probably,” Cameron agreed. “Get it okayed by Ash and Sazra and I will put it into my schedule. I’ll fit you in.”

“I- oh. Okay,” Lev said, trying not to be too enthusiastic. He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder as he started to say, “Thank you,” but his voice died a little as he realized just how thin Cameron’s shoulder was.

Cameron carefully removed Lev’s hand from his shoulder. Even in the dark Lev could see Cameron giving him a slow once over, noting how clothes that had fit perfectly a month ago were just a little loose now. Lev hadn’t paid attention before, but Cameron’s shrewd gaze made him hyper aware.

“Make sure you eat too,” was all Cameron said in the end. “And close the door behind you when you leave.”

Lev swallowed. He ran his fingers through Cameron’s hair once, just to reassure himself that he could, that they were both still there and then backed for the door. “I’ll bring you something later,” he promised. “And some painkillers.”

He made sure that the door clicked shut as quietly as he could.

---

While Cyrus flipped through one of the several books he’d lain on the bed, Sorin napped sprawled on his lap. Sorin’s surprisingly strong tail wrapped around his wrist insistently, the prehensile appendage tugging every once and a while as the demon dreamed.

Cyrus had spent the last few hours reading up on the gods. While he was certainly more educated, he felt like it was only a surface level understanding of them. Which- understandable. There was a lot, and these were gods.

Rather than continue to stare blankly at the pages, Cyrus settled more deeply into the pillows he was propped up against. Sorin huffed at him, his tail tightening briefly, but when Cyrus made no move to get up, the demon fell asleep again pretty quickly.

Once the house was quiet, Cyrus closed his eyes and tried to remember how Darius had shown him how to reach out for Asmi. It’d certainly been more ritualistic than Cyrus was able to do right now, but even attempting without the words and candles and pomp and ceremony, when Cyrus opened his eyes, he was back in the warm room, Asmi seated before him.

“Asmi,” Cyrus said, dipping into a small bow. He looked up, offering a small smile. “Will it always be that easy to reach you?”

Asmi lifted a brow. “If you were aware of your studies, you would know,” they said, amused.

Cyrus gave a shrug in acquiescence. “True,” he said, “But who better to ask my questions than you? I’ve been reading, while my mate keeps me on bedrest. Trying to understand all of it. The sheer amount of literature to wade through is... overwhelming.”

Asmi brought their tea to their lips. “I imagine getting caught up on nearly forty years of spellwork will take you some time. I’m sure you will now have plenty of time to do so without your magic distracting you.”

“Was taking my magic an opportunity to learn or a punishment?” Cyrus asked, out of sheer curiosity.

Asmi merely gave Cyrus a slight smile.

Cyrus settled in the closest chair with a bit more weight than he usually would. It seemed even in this dimension he was weaker than usual. “Some things have to remain a secret, then?” He asked, mulling it over.

“I told you there will be a price to pay,” they said. “You will pay it tenfold. I do not like to be made weakened by anyone, and this time, my point will be made.”

“I understand,” Cyrus said quietly. “I don’t take this lightly, and I will work hard to learn what I can while without magic.”

“Excellent,” Asmi said, setting their mug of tea down. “You will not regain your magic until I am satisfied.” Asmi flicked a hand, and with a ripple of magic Ash, Lev and Darius appeared in the room with them.

Ash was quick to bow deeply before standing upright wearily. “You summoned me?”

Cyrus flicked a glance at the other two; Lev was quite bewildered, though he gave an echo of Ash’s movements after a beat. Darius gave his own slow bow before quietly buckling into the chair behind him.

Cyrus thought about moving to check on him, but Lev beat him to it, fussing quietly while keeping an eye on Asmi warily. As much as he hated to admit it, he was relieved. It would have taken a lot of energy to stand. Instead he fixed Asmi with another curious stare. “I assume you have a message for all four of us?”

“You should watch your assumptions,” Asmi said. “But yes, I do and I did not feel the need to repeat myself four different times.”

“Apologies,” Cyrus murmured, before falling silent expectantly.

“Apologies noted,” Asmi said, crossing their legs. “I have spoken to Levant already, about carrying a piece of the burden should you defy the natural balance once more. You have all felt its effects. There is and will be a void where your magic was and would be, and that void shall remain until you earn the right to your magic. I demand respect from the lot of you and for you to learn a lesson.”

Ash looked a mix of rage and submission but ultimately hung his head without a word.

“How do we earn it?” Lev asked, and then immediately looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up. Cyrus grimaced in sympathy, but he’d been wondering the same thing, and so he simply looked to Asmi again. Earning it could mean a thousand things, and they were all from different places and backgrounds in life.

A serpentine smile curled on Asmi’s lips. “I am glad you ask. You will all learn everything about the gods, you will worship and devote yourselves accordingly. You will become nearly as knowledgeable and devoted as a priestess and you will not have your magic returned to you until all of you satisfy me. Not one, not three. All four of you will satisfy me or none of you will satisfy me.”

“Understood,” Cyrus said. He’d honestly expected something worse, and judging by the surprise on Lev’s face, so had the angel. Ash and Darius were harder to read, but that was just fine.

Asmi’s eyes narrowed, seemingly reading his mind. “Be glad it is not Kaveh. Would you wish to want harsher punishments, I am sure they will be more than willing to provide.”

“Of course,” Cyrus murmured. Where faint enthusiasm had grown in Lev's expression, it’d quickly become ashen, and he’d reached for Darius’ hand silently.

Darius quietly squeezed Lev's hand. “Your mercy is much appreciated,” Darius murmured, hoarsely. “We will do all that you ask.”

Lev nodded vigorously, again simply echoing the sentiment.

“I will make sure to help in any way,” Ash said. “I already have Lev reading the old books on the various gods from Cameron’s library.”

Cyrus nodded slowly. “I might reach out to you,” he said to Ash, before adding, “And Sorin can find resources for me in places I cannot go. Though it might be a few days; we’re going to be moving soon, before Biela’s mercy wanes. I won’t be welcome in demonic territory at all for the foreseeable future, if ever.”

“I can’t leave Cameron’s house,” Lev piped up nervously. “And Darius shouldn’t be moving around much yet either.”

“Well it’s not like your magic is going anywhere,” Asmi replied. “I’m sure you will figure out how to get to a temple. The lot of you are irritatingly creative.”

“Best see if Biela has any mercy left to spare,” Cyrus advised, even as he thought internally that they might not get their magic back in the next half century just from this.

“Better chance of draining the ocean with a straw,” Ash muttered.

Lev sighed softly, and looked down at Darius. “I can talk to Cameron,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

When Darius nodded tiredly, Asmi said, “If you all have nothing else interesting to say I am sending you back.” They didn’t give much room for Lev, Darius, or Ash to speak before they disappeared.

Cyrus blinked at where they had been. “Thank you,” he said, and then clarified, “For taking the time to explain. You could have left us to flounder.”

“I see no point wasting my time,” they said, dismissively. “You will likely have the most to learn, as you think you are above myself and had performed that heinous magic twice. You will find my mercy and my forgiveness is not easily won.”

Asmi waved a hand and sent Cyrus back to his body. Judging from how Sorin’s face was so close to his he could feel the demon’s whiskers tickling his face, it’d been obvious that Cyrus hadn’t been in bed with him in any way beyond physical. Sorin pressed a paw to Cyrus’ chest slowly, spreading his toes and digging his claws in. Five sharp points let Cyrus know just how pisssed Sorin was.

“Alright, alright,” Cyrus muttered. “I’ll rest.”

Sorin gave a pointed sniff, but backed off, nosing the books onto the floor before Cyrus could move them himself. He draped himself across Cyrus’ body, purring deep in his chest the moment Cyrus relaxed.

Point taken.

---

Nik found himself getting summoned to Cameron’s office. He couldn’t even come get him himself, instead he had one of his toadies come and fetch him. Nik did pause, though, when he realized Cameron’s office was pitch black. “Cameron?”

“Sit.”

“Well great to see you, too,” Nik muttered, plopping down on the chair across from him. “For what have you summoned me?”

Cameron looked up in his direction, his eyes glowing animal bright in the darkness. It was so leery; NIk kept forgetting demons could do that. “I want you to go stay with your brother,” he said.

“You’re seriously kicking me out?” Nik said. “Is it because I refused to kiss Darius’ ass?”

Cameron blinked slowly at him, clearly not aware of Nik and Darius’ previous conversation. “No,” he said, mildly. “And it’s not forever. You can come back, if you want, during the weekends or for a couple of days during the week, the choice is yours.”

“Is this because of the demon lands being poisoned?”

“Yes,” Cameron said. “And since you decided to keep the fetus, and you decided to mate with me, that makes you both my responsibility, and I’m not going to let your sentimentality cause a miscarriage or stillbirth because you wanted to be near Lev.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “So what, because you mated with me, so my dad couldn’t take me home, you now have control of me?”

“If you want to be so frank,” Cameron said, bluntly, “we can do that. Demonic customs and all of that. However, consider it me giving you the choice to come back a few days of the week. I’d rather keep you off demonic land all together if I had my way about it.”

“And you don’t?” Nik snapped.

“If I had my way about anything, your brother would be dragging you by your ear back to his house in the next thirty minutes,” Cameron said, sharply. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be back until the fetus was well past four months old when the likelihood of an infant death was not nearly so high. If you wish to act like a petulant child, do it on your own time.”

“I am not acting like a child.”

“Yes,” Cameron said, “you are. You’re throwing hissy fits when you’re not getting your way and yelling at people for things they had nothing to do with. You are actively being a selfish little twat who refuses to not do what the hell is the right thing to do because you want to stay with Lev.”

Nik stared at him in shocked outrage. “Did you seriously call me a twat?”

“Is that all you got from that,” Cameron snapped. “So help me if I have to make the choice for you, you are not coming back to this house for the next eight months, you hear me? I will have your brother tie you to a fucking tree to make my godsdamned point.”

Nik opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to form a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. “...fine,” he said. “I’ll go. I just, I didn’t want to leave either of you, especially when you can’t follow.”

“We will be fine,” Cameron said, a shade calmer. “I’m sure Lev will facetime you or knit you some baby blanket to pass the time, or whatever it is angels do for their pregnant mates. I don’t really care as long as both of you stop pissing me off.”

Any other time the idea of Lev knitting would make him wheeze. “I’m sorry,” Nik said, leaning back into the chair, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m just- I feel like I can’t get my footing lately and all of us are spinning out.”

“Well this will be a good chance for you to get grounded then, isn’t it?”

“When am I going?” he said, defeatedly.

“Nate will be here within the hour.”

----

It was dark when Eden woke. It was dark and she did not like that. No one was there to pick her up, and she didn’t like that even more. Papi had left her again. She remembered him leaving, and then Da had put her to bed instead of the pale one later that night. That was too many alterations to what was right and she did not like it.

Not one bit.

A shrill shriek bubbled in her throat, and she banged her hands on the side of her crib the moment she pulled herself up.

No one came to pick her up, which really was unfair. Eden deserved to be picked up. She screeched again, but the house was silent other than her cries.

Filled with the determination of a child wronged by the world, Eden scrabbled her way over the side of the crib. She hit the floor with a solid thud, and almost began to cry from the shock of it all. After a few minutes of sniffling, Eden was on her way again, hooking her little fingers around the door. It took a few tries, and she got it stuck on her leg more than once, but she got it open.

One of the Big Talls stared down at her, seeming as startled to see her as she was to see them. Rather than wait to see what they’d do, Eden booked it, moving as fast as she could crawl on chubby baby legs.

Behind her, the Big Tall said something loudly, and unwelcome hands grabbed her around the waist. Eden wailed a toddler war cry and bit the nearest finger with her little fangs. That seemed to work, because very quickly she found herself on the ground, even if the Big Tall still had a grip on her, and had cushioned her fall.

---

Cameron had yet to go to bed. He was sitting it the dark in Darius’ room past midnight with a small light and his book. His head snapped up when he heard Eden’s telltale screech-crying right aside a grown demon’s screaming as well.

He quietly sat down his book, ignoring the pain pulsing behind his eye and wrapping around his head and headed for the sound in question.

He found Eden on the floor, sitting and crying and smacking the sentry’s face, perhaps to get him to stop screaming. Or maybe she just felt like hitting someone.

Cameron scooped her up off the floor and peered down at the sentry’s bleeding hand and back to Eden’s sharp little fangs. “I see your venom has come in,” he sighed. He toed the sentry’s face up in his direction. “I will make sure to add this inconvenience to your paycheck. When you get a hold of yourself, take the rest of the night off.”

With that, Cameron stepped around him and took Eden down the hall. She was sniffling and mouthing at Cameron’s shoulder. He lightly pinched her leg. “Bite me and I’ll bite back,” he warned.

She seemed intent on ignoring his threat.

Cameron opened the door of the bedroom Lev was sleeping in and flicked the lights on. “Wake up,” he said, even as Lev stirred awake.

Lev propped himself up on his elbow and squinted at them. “Eden?”

“You wanted to keep the baby,” Cameron said, irritably, tracking across the room. “Take her. Be careful, though, her venom came in.”

“Oh baby,” Lev said, reaching for her. He was sitting up by now, and once Eden was safely in his lap he started rubbing her back lightly. “She can stay in my bed tonight. Maybe she had a nightmare.”

“Maybe,” Cameron agreed, tiredly. “Just don’t roll on top of her, I guess.” He started for the doorway and flicked the lights off once more, at least giving himself some relief. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Cameron made his way back to his chair, rubbing his temples on the way. Unsurprisingly Darius was sitting up, waiting for him. He patted the bed on the side Cameron had always slept on, clearly offering him the spot.

“You should be asleep.”

Darius gave him a very long look that Cameron chose to interpret as he should be as well- and then promptly dismissed it. “I have work I need to be doing.”

A small crease formed between Darius’ brows and he patted the bed more insistently.

Cameron sighed sharply. “If I get in, will you stop being a nuisance and go to sleep?” When Darius nodded, pleased, Cameron sighed once more and began undressing slowly, doing his best to not further aggravate his headache.

He crawled into the bed and put his face in the pillow, all too aware of the coolness of Darius’ skin next to his.

tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #original writing #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: the gods #ch: ash #ch: darius #hell to pay

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Fan Club IV

A/N: This part 👀 I can’t lie, it’s very hot and smutty. Y’all did ask for filth though so, be warned. It’s the catalyst to essentially the rest of the story. This of course, as all our stories are, is all fiction, so, sit back and enjoy! ✨✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, filth!, exhibitionism, DIRTY talk, degradation!kink, messy 👀, angst

word count: 16k

When Jeff texted Y/N about an event that she was meant to attend with Harry at the club she got slightly nervous. One, because she knew there would be loads of paps, two because it was a club night with Harry, three because drunk Y/N was something else.

The outfit was already selected, Y/N had picked out something she knew would wow both Harry and everyone else at the club. She figured since most girls Harry had on his arm were beautiful in the model way, Y/N would show off what it meant to be beautiful in another way. The dress showed off every single curve she had, accented her waist and brought attention to her assets with grace. It was a light pink silky dress and it fit like a glove. Y/N has spent the night before and day of preparing. Showering, moisturizing, doing her hair and makeup to make sure it was absolutely perfect. She sprayed herself with her perfume and checked herself out in the mirror one more time. She looked impeccable if she did say so herself.

Harry hadn’t been sure about what the night would bring. Things with Y/N had been alright. Sometimes he would be a little cold but it was mainly after she would turn him on, and he had to kill the mood ASAP. Because if he didn’t? He may do something he regretted.

Tonight she was going to go home with him. Jeff had chartered a car for them, so he had gotten driven to pick up Y/N as well, they’d never had a sleepover before. He wasn’t sure what that would bring either. How far his self control could stretch. Harry liked to think he could be good with it. But with the possibility of Y/N now knowing his weakness, his lowered inhibitions, and close quarters would be so difficult for him. He felt a little nervous pulling up to her place, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. Jeff had said they needed to be a bit more obvious about their relationship now, and Harry needed a few drinks in him to really let go. To her it would be acting. To him? It was living out a fantasy with an excuse afterwards. However when Y/N had crawled into the car, his throat went dry. No. No fucking way— he was gong. To die. The silk of the dress clinging to every inch of her, her lips glossy and a deeper color. He was going into overdrive in his mind.

“Hiya!” Y/N giggled as she hopped into the car. She knew. Of course she knew the outfit she was wearing was going to push the envelope, it would make Harry act a certain way and inevitably help her find out how he actually felt about her. Y/N wanted to know for a fact if she was making up the sexual tension between them because Harry really was just flirty. Fucking libra placements. Jeff had instructed the two of them to drink tonight, let loose and just have fun. That worried Y/N a tad bit because well, when she was drunk she had no filter. For the sake of the club night and people watching them it would be great, for them alone tonight? She wasn’t so sure. From what she knew about drunk Harry? Well, he’d be all over her too. But drunk Harry really just clung on to anyone around him.

During the week Harry and Y/N had seen each other a few times in the morning at the bakery, did their usual routine and well, Harry truly would have eaten his body weight in lemon bars by the end of it all. More fans were coming into the bakery, expecting to see him. They were actually surprisingly really nice to Y/N and gave her compliments and told her that she was doing a great job. Y/N was told not to confirm or deny to make things seem more natural, but still let them know that it was in fact true.

Harry had to reconnect his brain to his mouth because half of him was dying at the moment. The bottom half. His brain was fuzz. How did a girl look this good? How? And of course. It was the one person he shouldn’t be having at all. But his body gave not a single fuck, and his heart too, apparently.

“Hi...” He said after clearing his throat. “You look.... uh, good.” Fit. Sexy. The dress clinging to the curves that had his mouth watering and the fact he knew they’d be dancing tonight and she would feel if he was hard which... he couldn’t kid himself and say there wasn’t a high possibility. It was scary. There was more than just sexual frustration too, for example, how Harry did actually like her, but he was too afraid to get hurt. How he wanted to hold her hand and always, always wanted to be touching her all the damn time. He knew after a few drinks he could be needy, clingy. Would Y/N be okay with it? Their mornings at the bakery had resulted in some cheek kisses and hugs longer than needed but, he hadn’t been very touching before.

“thanks babe.” Y/N smiled, “you look nice as usual.” She added as she buckled up. They talked more often now, things were less awkward during car rides and frankly she had a feeling Harry was only quiet because he was overwhelmed by how she looked. The drive was a short one, seeing as they were relatively close to central by car. It would be quick to get to the club they were meant to be at and Y/N knew that the second they stepped out of this car they’d be all over each other.

As they arrived, paparazzi stood waiting for them, having expected this event. Jeff has planned tonight to be the official announcement of their relationship. They had been photographed for four months now and well, people were eating it up.

“Alright.. I know that the paparazzi are a lot sometimes so just don’t let go of my hand and I’ll make sure you’re good. Yeah?”’ The memories of her panic attack made him so sad. So worried. Harry didn’t want that to happen again but if it did, at least now he knew how to deal with them. Half of him was giddy with excitement though. Getting to be touchy with her, getting to hold her close and be coupley? He was very much wanting that. Either it would help him get it out of his system or it would fuck him over. Either way, he would be touching her.

Harry got out first, holding her hand as he helped her down. He was feeling extra protective but this time they stood back. Still shouting things but he squeezed her slender hand in his and helped her towards the door. It really was show time.

Y/N appreciated how worried Harry was, nodding at him as he spoke and giving his hand a squeeze. Stepping out of the car, she was thankful that this time the paps actually had barriers they couldn’t cross. It took a lot of the anxiety away and well, she just stayed close to Harry and walked inside feeling like she really had accomplished something. The person working the door took her jacket, exposing her and all her beauty to everyone at the event. The silk of her dress made sure she felt the warmth of Harry’s touch even more so than usual, a smile spreading across her face as she looked up at him.

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, “we’ll go find Jeff first, okay? If you get uncomfortable just let me know. I know we’re gonna be a bit much but I don’t want to overstep boundaries.” It was whispered to her.

Y/N’s face softened, noticing his worry yet again. “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind.” Y/N spoke softly back to him, “I trust you.” She really did. Harry was always extremely respectful and she knew that he was asking because he wanted to make sure. Despite them being together for, what? four months now, and the fact that this was a normal occurrence, she was happy to know he respected her the way he did.

Harry felt relief when she said she trusted him because honestly, her opinion did mean a lot to him. Even if he didn’t want to let himself accept it— she was important to him already. He wanted her to feel safe with him, always.

“That’s good.” He smiled down at her. Y/N looked so good and he was going to have a good time playing it up tonight. Especially because he was going to be able to drink and say whatever because it was ‘acting’ to Y/N and she didn’t know he meant probably everything she was going to hear. He escorted her to the bar, settling behind her as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other rested on her tummy. She has this little tummy that Harry found incredibly enticing. He wasn’t sure why but he loved it. Always wanted to touch and kiss on it when he thought more and more of it.

“What do you want to drink, baby?” Harry spoke against her ear as the music was. A little loud. But his lips were close to her ear, making it feel a little more intimate.

Baby. God he really was starting off strong. Y/N couldn’t say she didn’t feel a little insecure as he put his hand on her tummy, always being cautious of it whenever she was wearing tight clothes. She knew it was actually normal and most girls had one, but something about being Harry Styles’ girlfriend made her feel like she shouldn’t have one. At least that’s what the media made her feel like.

“Vodka cranberry, make it a double” She told him, giving him a little smirk. “I can handle alcohol.” Y/N teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek just because she wanted to. She couldn’t resist. Plus, she was playing it up for all the workers too. Her kiss left a mark on Harry’s cheek and Y/N giggled a bit, “it looks cute, but here...” she said and gently wiped it off his cheek so that it wouldn’t be viable in the photos they were most likely set to take. It was an event after all. She wasn’t sure what it was for but Jeff would let them know as soon as they found him.

Ordering the drinks, Harry took her hand and laced it with his, pulling her back against him and swayed them a little bit. She obviously was caught off guard but the giggle was confirmation that she was okay with it, him humming the song in her ear while the bartender made their drinks.

“My girl can handle the drinks? I’d like to see that.” He teased. “Probably can drink me under that table, yeah? And sound well sexy doing it.” Oop. Admission of her voice being ‘sexy’ when she spoke it was accidental but he wasn’t going to take it back. It was. But now she had far more ammo against him. Y/N was obviously planning on doing just that, her evil little smirk up at him making him pout. “Oi, don’t tease me with it.” Harry whined. “I’m being nice tonight. Don’t be mean to me.” Irony, a little, but mostly because he didn’t want to be hard yet.

If only Harry knew how long Y/N had been waiting to hear him say things like that to her. If she hadn’t thought about it a thousand times before she’d definitely been thinking about it a thousand times more. Her heart was swelling, feeling extremely giddy just doing all these things with Harry. They were just talking and swaying. Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Sexy hmm?” Y/N smirked, “are you being nice tonight?” She asked knowing full well that was false. Harry loved teasing, he teased his fans like crazy so surely he’d tease her even more. “You play nice and I’ll play nice. Is that a deal?” God, she wanted him to destroy her. That look in his eyes, she could already feel the tingles. When their drinks were ready Y/N said a small thank you to the bartender, taking her drink in her hand and looking at Harry with his. “Cheers, to playing nice.” She smiled at him, knowing that it was officially game on from here on out.

It was then Harry knew that they both were in for it, because he was going to give in to his wants of touching her and she was seemingly all for it which was equally as dangerous. Getting to be this way was going to make it so he would push past things he probably shouldn’t. He toasted with her, taking his drink and sipping all the while watching her over the glass. Y/N was a minx. A little flirty minx who was going to make him lose his mind. They had to go find Jeff, so he took her hand again and spun her so she was facing the right direction.

“Let’s go find the boss.”

They walked closely, Harry's arm back around Y/N’s waist as he held her to his body. She felt good pressed up against him. He loved it, if he was being honest. Wanted to feel her front pressed up against him so he could feel her tits. He needed a good feel by the end of the night. Needed it.

Y/N liked this. She liked this a lot. She swayed her hips a bit more now, wanting Harry to feel what they were capable of. It was like she had this new power in her that she didn’t have before, all because of Harry. The whole acting thing was definitely helping as well, she could just play this character and exaggerated version of herself and get away with it. Harry seemed to be loving it a little bit too much for his own liking, she could sense it.

Jeff and Glenne were stood over in the vip section, chatting with a few other celebrity guests. Y/N forgot that that was also a thing. In her mind Harry wasn’t a celebrity, he had never been. He was just her idol that was hard to reach, the concept of him being a celebrity himself always weirder her out. Like whenever other people mentioned him she always forgot that they knew who he was. All eyes were on them. Literally everyone. Y/N kept herself calm and confident, acting as if she wasn’t phased by it at all though she was internally freaking out.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled as she gave Jeff and Glenne a hug, “you guys look great!” The gang was together again.

“About time you showed up!” Jeff punched Harry lightly in the arm. He could sense something was changing. Harry held on a bit tighter to her, and wasn’t consciously doing it.

“Oi, watch it. We just got some drinks. You know, little thing has Russian blood. Isn’t that right, Kiska?” Harry had googled a pet name’s in Russian and she was definitely a kitten, kiska, if you will. Coy and sly and utterly adorable, a little clumsy all in one. Pure and evil all the same. He could tell the Russian name caught her off guard. Oh, he was going to pay for that. She returned to his arms, and he decided to sit her on the bar stool and stand between her legs. For right now, this was good. He’d have a hand on her and look intimate while they talked.

Y/N looked at him with a shocked expression, raising her brow and giving him a look which said he would pay for that. He went home and looked it up, just to play with her emotions? Of course he did. The bastard. She took another sip of her drink and rolled her eyes, “Mister, just had to be fashionably late.” She told Jeff from her seat on the bar stool.

She was still quite tall in these shoes, probably the same height she would be if she was standing up. Harry felt more comfortable like this, clearly liking having power over her. They would see about that. “Хотел меня удивить?” Y/N spoke, setting her hand on his chest before picking up his cross necklace. “I said, you wanted to surprise me?” She smirked, looking him in the eyes. Two could play this game. The night just started and they were already pushing each other to the limit. They barely had any drinks in them but boy were they touchy feely. As a new couple should be. Y/N was positive that people were more shocked at the fact that Harry was showing any type of affection publicly. It was something he simply didn’t do.

It really wasn’t. Harry was the type to keep it private. But he liked being open and free with her. Even if it wasn’t ‘real’ as some would say— it sure as hell felt like it. He was thoroughly enjoying every bit, and it was translating well to people watching. He was positive that people were going to take photos, but he didn’t care. That was the point. Her leg catching over the back of his though, rubbing the back of his calf with her foot? She was giving it right back to him. And then the speaking in Russian, the one thing that really got him.

“Da, Kiska.” Yes, Kitten. Harry grinned, liking her way of playing back with him. The drink in his hand was gone, so he called for another one. He was going to drink and use that as an excuse even though he was sober at the moment. Yep.

Y/N was pulling all the stops, assuming that nothing would actually come of it but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The leg move was something she figured would give her the upper hand, clearly showing everyone that he was her territory. Maybe they were doing too much? But she didn’t really care, she only cared about what he thought.

“Осторожно.” Careful. She warned, knowing there was no translation needed. The tone and the word itself implied being careful, especially because he was playing with fire and he knew it. Y/N too had finished her drink, knowing Harry was about to go and get more. “Go, I’ll wait with Jeff.” She told him, wanting nothing more than to peck his lips in that moment but she couldn’t.

The look Jeff had on his face said it all, a laugh coming from him. He and Glenne were in the same position she and Harry were just in, but they were a bit less.... horny. Y/N blushed, shaking her head a little because she knew they were coming off strong but she wasn’t acting. She never was acting with him.

Harry grumbled as she sent him off to get drinks. He was having fun with her. They worked very well with their chemistry and he felt utterly enamored with her. After a few drinks it was going to get worse. Would he basically dry fuck her against the bar? Perhaps. He felt like he could right now if given the go ahead. He got her a double shot and made his the same as well, going back to the table. They were all laughing about something and she hadn’t paid him much attention, taking the glass and spreading her legs a bit again so he could stand there. Honestly! A good response for when he came over.

“I got you the same.” He spoke to her, voice a bit darker. “There are some people with their cells out taking photos too. I figured you knew though.” She was so good, learning to catch on quite easily. They could both feel cameras on them. Surely they’d make a pretty penny selling them or something. But after he finished that drink, he felt a slight buzz kick in. That made him more comfortable, holding on her waist and listening to her conversation. Wanting some of the attention back.

Y/N decided she’d play the game a bit more, making him work a bit to get the attention that she had been so good at giving him. Now that she knew her strengths she would play on them, forcing Harry to push harder than he was. She wanted to know what he wanted from her. The cool feeling of the glass between her legs and Harry’s looming figure sent a shock straight to her crotch, the slightly annoyed look in his eye making her smile smugly.

“Thank you, ziya.” She cooed, knowing if he had searched for Russian pet names he would have found ‘bunny’ too. “Are saying you want to give them a show then?” Y/N teased as she wrapped her lips around the straw of his drink and took a sip. It wasn’t meant to be as sexual as it ended up being, she kept eye contact but cut it short because they really were being a bit too wild.

The headlines would say, ‘Harry’s horny?’

Harry absolutely wanted to give them a show. Only the show he was thinking of was pulling her panties to the side and sliding into her cunt, taking her hard up against the bar. And he didn’t think that was quite what Jeff had meant by giving more affection.

“Come.” He stood them up and brought them over to a plush couch without saying anything to Jeff. He knew Harry wanted Y/N alone right now, and he didn’t need to ask. Plus, it would help if they were seen all on their own together. Only he sat with her next to him, quite close. His arm wrapped around her and he basically curled around her form, the hand holding his drink putting it down after he downed it again. Ignoring the burning in his throat, he took his cool hands and brushed them against her neck. The touch seemed to affect her, a sharp breath coming from her. “You’re playing games.” He mumbled, using his fingers to tuck the hair from her neck. “Naughty.”

“And you aren’t?” Y/N asked boldly, finding his eyes as they snapped up to look at her. If there was such a thing as eye fucking they were definitely doing it in that moment. They couldn’t be sat here for too long, no, they definitely needed to go dance or mingle or do something that wasn't in each other's space like this. But it was so hot. He was so close to her, his touch, his words. It was all proving to be too much. The Harry she had always imagined was coming out, fulfilling a lot of her fantasies that he didn’t even know she had. This was something she sat thinking about in her bedroom, sitting there rubbing her clit to the idea of Harry being a tease in public.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t, baby.” Harry shrugged. He was definitely playing and teasing. He needed to get her to it for a second so he had an excuse to get close enough to leave a mark. It was closer than he had gotten pulling her closer in the chair. Her neck was so deliciously bare. And he was feeling possessive right now with the way or her men saw her. She was beautiful and a little naive towards the way other men had been ogling her tonight. “Was gonna suggest ...a mark.” He proposed. “Righhhhht here.” He ran his finger over the exposed flesh that would show his mark if she let him. “I think you’d like that.” He was pretty sure the easiest way to do it would be on the dance floor. “Can let people see you’ve been marked. Just gotta get up and go dance for a little bit. It’ll feel nice.” He was driving her absolutely mad and he knew it too. The way he spoke to her and the way he was touching her, it felt far more intimate than anything else she’d ever felt. This couldn’t be fake, she wouldn’t believe what he said if he tried to deny it. It wasn’t the alcohol either.

“I think I’d like that too..” Y/N responded, feeling her voice go a little quite towards the end. It would feel nice, having his lips on her neck and marking her as his. The way he was asking for permission though she had already given him free reign to do whatever he wanted. It was all a bit much. “Come on.” She said, getting up and downing her drink before taking his hand and guiding him towards the dance floor. The dance floor was quite busy, now a good few hours into the event. They had arrived a bit late anyway so the party was in full swing. Y/N was quite a good dancer and she knew that.

Harry wasn’t a bad dancer. Not necessarily skilled though, so he had a feeling Y/N would be doing the talking if they had to truly dance. At the moment though, it seemed as everyone was doing their own things, which felt good. He stayed towards the edge of the dance floor though, taking her hand and pulling her into him. His hand was on her waist and she looked up at him with those eyes he’d been dreaming of and he felt like a crazy person for not having had her already. She was the ideal person to have sex with, he thinks. The perfect mix of dirty and innocent and he hadn’t even found out how bad she could be. He had a feeling he would be finding out rather soon.

“Come.” He pulled her to be pressed against his body, one hand on her and the other holding her own. “You’re going to kill me, sweetness.” He muttered quietly. “Swear to god. You’ve been so naughty. And you know it.”

Y/N squeaked a bit as he pulled her against him, relaxing into his touch after a few seconds. It still made her dizzy. The whole being a fan thing didn’t help, it really didn’t help. She was already into him and now he was just playing it up and she felt like she would pass out. She moved her hips to the beat, grinding on him without hesitation. What? If they were dancing, they were dancing like everyone else was.

“I’ve only been as naughty as you.” She said as a matter of factly, “but you like that, don’t you?” The alcohol started to work in her system convincing her to just say what was on her mind. Four shots of vodka all hitting her system at once definitely did the trick. There was nothing more she wanted to do than kiss him. She just wanted to sit him down and make out with him. Straddle his hips, grab his hair and just kiss him. They’d been ‘dating’ for four months and no one had seen them publicly kiss yet, but Y/N decided she’d make it her mission for him to kiss her tonight. If not now then never.

“I can’t say I mind.” Harry breathed. God, Y/N was grinding on him. She knew how to move and she was going to get him all worked up. Whatever photos anyone took would potentially be very sexually charged because his hand did drop lower, holding her hip a bit tighter. Her grinding slowed a bit and he wanted to groan. Y/N looked very happy. Very pleased to be making him feel like this. There was no way that she’d give up now. It seemed to be her goal to push his buttons. “I’m just trying to figure out just how naughty you are.” He had his face closer, mouth approaching her ear. “Because I can tell what you’re doing. And I’ll let you know, it’ll work. You’ll get what you want from me. You’re pushing me just hard enough.”

Everything about their interaction screamed sexual tension. The rubber band would snap soon and Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet. She felt high on the feeling, knowing that all she needed was a little push and she’d cave. Self control was important right now because as much as they were enjoying this moment, they were technically working.

“Mmm keep trying then.” She whispered in his ear, lips brushing against his lobe ever so slightly. Y/N wanted to move lower and kiss at his neck, but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing more. Harry seemed to be on board and that was something that she would run with. “What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked, genuinely pushing every button that she could just for the sake of it. Maybe he’d actually do something. It was his image after all, if there was anything he wanted to do or didn’t want to do, she wanted to make sure that it was his decision. She didn’t want to over step.

“To get me to break.” Harry muttered. This time, he pressed a kiss under her ear. Here it goes. He knew that there was no going back now. Now when Y/N was rubbing up on him and he had her where he wanted her. “You want me to touch. And you’re getting that.” Harry gave another kiss a spot lower. “And I’m going to give you a mark on your neck. People are going to see it, yeah? See photos of me making it. And you know it’ll feel really good.” His mouth was rubbing against her skin with every word, getting lower so he could find the spot. “Trying to push me. Being a naughty girl and getting me to do things I shouldn’t.” Like, fucking her raw and senseless. Harry was coming in short when it came to thread holding his resistance. Y/N may know that now. However he had found the spot he wanted to mark— so he began to kiss on it, nipping at the skin. She absolutely melted into him, the sweet little gasp making his cock twitch in interest.

Y/N closed her eyes the second his teeth touched her neck. It was going to be hard to dance as if this had happened before, as if this wasn’t the first time they were interacting in a sexual way. People knew Harry was a horny bastard, talking about how his new album was about sex and being sad. They’d assume he already fucked her. She wishes that was true.

“But it’s not my fault, is it?” Y/N nearly moaned, “you want it as badly as I do.” She added, feeling her breath hitch as he began to kiss and nip at the sensitive part of her neck. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me act naughty.” Y/N confirmed, a gasp following her statement. Y/N couldn’t take this. He was doing things to her that she never thought were possible, endorphins flooding her body and making her feel like she was floating. She had melted into him completely, still dancing with him because she couldn’t just not move. “Fuck that feels good..” She whispered in his ear, a small moan escaping just for him to hear.

Harry’s arm held her tighter, keeping her up in a good position as he continued his assault on her perfect neck. “What if I want to see that?” He asked. His fatal mistake because he knew far too well that Y/N would show him. She would do as he asked and kill him. That was the scary thing and he wanted it. He didn’t give her time to answer though, beginning to suck on her neck. It was light at first, but continued on. Getting a bit harder. The music covered it, but he heard a whimper come from her as he sucked over the sensitive skin and scraped over it lightly with his teeth. It felt too quick. He had given her one and didn’t want to make it truly hurt, so he moved to right under her ear and began to nip at it. “Mm. Maybe two. I think that’s a better idea.” He confirmed with her, feeling her nod hurriedly. His hands had her hips and pulled her up against him, and he knew that Y/N was feeling just as good about it as he was. “Shh, baby. Gonna make them think I have my hand under your dress.”

He gave Y/N the answer she had been waiting for. He had wanted to see her naughty side, wanted to see her unravel completely for him and show him just how bratty she could be. Y/N was sure he wanted it, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to do that here. Not when everyone was watching. He knew that as well. Y/N really has been deprived of touch and affection, simple love bites were practically making her fly off the rocker. Maybe it was because Harry was the one giving them to her, but she really needed him to stop or she would lose it.

“If you don’t stop i’ll have to take you up on that offer.” Y/N told him, a whimper still present in her voice. She moved a hand up to his hair, tugging at it hard enough to get him to pull off her neck. “You have to stop, I’ll lose it..” She told him genuinely. It was a bit embarrassing to say, but she’d rather not make a fool of herself in public from a few hickeys.

Ha. Harry had won this round. Driving her crazy. The way she had said it though... saying she had wanted his hand under her dress... he was tempted.

“M’sorry, Kiska.” He promised, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry at all. He was thriving off of this energy and was dying to at least get his mouth on her. “If I could get away with my hand under your dress.. it would be there.” He could tell she wanted it too. The whimper of disappointment she let out. God, he wanted to destroy her. “What would you have done if I kept going?” They continue to dance, Harry's lips a bit damp with his own spit from kissing over and sucking on her neck. Their dancing had an even rhythm now, but he wanted to know what she thinks would have happened if he had continued on. Y/N was flushed and the marks were beginning to get darker. “What about it makes you crazy? Did you like the little bit of pain? How it’s a little tender? I want to know what you’re thinking.” He lifted a hand and ran his thumb over one of the marks and smirked when she jolted but her eyes were darker.

Y/N knew she had lost but she didn’t care, she really couldn’t take it. Her body was practically shaking with desire, never having been so turned on in her life. Y/N felt her like her body was on fire. Sure, their dancing was sexually charged and the neck kissing was as well, but to an outsider that’s all it was. They didn’t know what was actually happening.

“I—I wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret.” Y/N told him, “it’d be too obvious, we’d have to leave.” That was true. Her knees would have buckled and she would have forced him to take them home. It wasn’t acting, they both knew that now. Would they speak on it again? No. “The pain.” She told him hesitantly, “I like the pain and the thrill of people watching.” There it was, the first little insight on how naughty she really was. He had asked to know after all. “It’s been a while— it’s a lot.” Y/N added wanting him to know that she really had been deprived of all the good things. “I think we need another drink.”

Harry was living for it. He truly was. Y/N was flustered and he was hot and bothered and now had 2 different marks on her neck. This was exactly the situation he originally had been trying to avoid but now was actively pursuing.

“Two double shots.” When they’d got to the bar again, he had his hands on her. It was like he couldn’t let go. Standing behind her, he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and kissed both of the marks before smirking and hiding again. He was being a tease and going to drive Y/N mad and he knew it but in all honesty, it was fun. Like a game. “Just don’t speak Russian. Cause then I’ll be forced to do things that aren’t very public appropriate and there’s tons of cameras everywhere.”

Hopefully the drink would cool Y/N down, her head was spinning and Harry wasn’t helping one bit. Her breath hitched a little as he pressed kisses to the marks. “Dick.” She muttered, lifting her hand up to play with his hair. She scratched his scalp a little bit as he hid into her neck, humming softly to herself. “Maybe I should and not let you touch me.” Y/N teased, “Maybe you’ll play nice then.” Of course she wasn’t going to let that happen. She loved his touch far too much though she also loved the idea of teasing him and getting her revenge. She was still shook up from their little stunt earlier and wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore teasing. Especially if they went home and didn’t do anything. “Cause you can’t keep working me up like this and not fuck me sore.” Y/N whispered in his ear, being completely serious. If he kept this up and they went home and he did nothing she’d be extremely moody and pissy.

Harry was a little surprised with her crassness. Truly, he hadn’t expected her to come out and say it. That she wanted to be fucked hard. But god, he could do it. He could very well run in to her and just bend her over any surface and take her. Their chemistry was off the charts and he had a feeling other people could see it. He knew too well that it was wrong of him. But his body didn’t care.

“Is that what you want?” He questioned, eyes blown with lust. She was giving him such a time. “Wow.. you seem so innocent, but you’re here talking about being fucked sore. Have you ever been properly fucked, Kiska?” His voice dropped to a growl, moving them closer to the bar. To any onlooker, it just looked like he was hiding his face against her but he was really giving his little fake lover a run for her money. “Been pounded away until you can’t breathe? Because you seem so sweet. But I can see now that you’re a dirty little girl and you’re a tease. Isn’t quite fair to me.” He scolded, his hand slipping to her thigh for a moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder and sent a charming smile to the bartender.

Y/N bit her lip, wanting so desperately to moan at how dirty and rough his voice sounded. “Yes, it’s what I want...” She told him honestly, deciding if she was going to spill any night it could be tonight where she could pretend she was more drunk than she was. She wasn’t anywhere near drunk right now though. The second he asked if she’d ever been properly fucked is when she lost it, knowing she needed him desperately and needed him now. But they had to be here until Jeff told them they could leave. “I haven’t, I’ve been so deprived.” She whimpered into his ear, “could you help me, daddy?” It was a stab in the dark seeing if he liked being called daddy, but she had seen a video of him on tour saying ‘yes daddy I will’ which proved to her that he may in fact enjoy being called daddy. But who really knew? She was about to find out.

Oh god. Oh god damn it. Harry was going to die. He was sure of it. She had tapped into one of his kinks that he was sure probably wasn’t a secret but... fuck. Y/N had sounded so pretty with her whimpers and then asking him to help her? That she hadn’t been fucked right?

“Fuck.” Harry groaned against her skin. “I want to. Shit, baby. You’re dirty, I love it.” He pressed himself against her ass and let her feel his cock that was getting harder at her teasing. And the little minx pressed back against it. He couldn’t touch her here, but he could tease and talk to her with his cock against her ass and work her up. He pulled her closer and swayed them slightly, giving himself a bit of friction. “You wore this to tease me.” Harry's voice was deep, a little raspy. “Wore it to drive me crazy and you knew it would.”

Ha. Y/N won this round. Noticing how he was slowly starting to crack, slowly giving into her teasing and her pleading. The feeling of his semi hard cock rubbing against her was also a confirmation that she was doing something right, smirking to herself as she pushed back against him a little bit.

“Of course I did.” She hummed, “thought it's about time I gave you no option but to give in. Those tops I wear didn’t quite do the trick, but this....” Y/N was very confident now that she knew it was working, needy, but confident. She just knew how to play up on the whiney neediness and the sexy neediness at the right times. Harry was lapping it up too. They both knew they’d go to his and have mind blowing sex, four months of pent up frustration sex. It was just a matter of when they would do so. Jeff really was the one who was going to give the go ahead and well, Harry was most likely going to keep teasing the both of them.

“Calculated little thing. Know how to get your way, hm.” Y/N was proving to be a force to be reckoned with. And Harry couldn’t even be upset over it because he was bringing this upon himself. He truly was. This woman was giving him a run for his damn money. “You said you liked the thrill of people watching, baby?” He asked. “S’it getting you off? All these people around and you’ve got my cock up against this gorgeous ass? And getting all wet inside those panties?” He knew she had to be soaked. “You’re probably so wet. A little bit sticky too, hm? Gonna start getting on your thighs. Wouldn’t be surprised now if you liked that. Liked getting all worked up and having no one know what I’m telling you.”

Y/N rubbed back against him anytime she felt like she wanted to moan, gripping at his arm that was around her waist. God she could kill him but she wasn’t going to let him get the best of her, she could control herself for a little while longer. If it was promising enough.

“You have no idea.” She simply responded, knowing it answered all of the above. Yes, it did thrill her, it did get her off, it was getting her wet inside her panties and he had no idea just how much. If he really wanted to, he could have a feel, she was sure if he peeled off her underwear there would even be a trail of wetness that pulled with it like a strand of spit. Yes, she was that fucking wet. “You better fuck me real good tonight, daddy... Я с ума сойду у..” She whispered in his ear, adding the ‘or I’ll lose my mind’ in Russian just for added effect. That should do the trick.

“Fuck..” Harry pressed her up against the bar. it was crowded enough that he could sneak a hand between her thighs, and as soon as he got under the dress he could feel the soaked and sticky panties. “My fucking god... you’re really soaked through.” He hissed, kissing her cheek a few times and smiled down at her. Harry pressed his fingers harder against her and his arm around her waist tightened, her knees weakening in his hold. Finding her clit, he pressed and rubbed a few times, sighing in pleasure when her hips bucked a little bit. Luckily there were people behind them talking, and no one was paying attention. His head was hidden and it was hard to tell who ended and who began. “Soaked little princess. Poor pussy... needs some attention.” He purred, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I shouldn’t be touching you at all, Kiska. Not at all. But you’ve been teasing me, and talking to me in that sexy little voice, you’re killing me.”

Y/N swore she stopped breathing, heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles was touching her fucking pussy. How on earth did she end up here? Y/N almost lost it, nearly moaned out loud with the poor bartender standing right there. Y/N sipped on her drink, using it to stifle the moans and whimpers that were threatening to escape. Her knees buckled, losing balance as his fingers started working on her clit through her panties. She sighed in pleasure, playing it off as if she was just sighing but really she was dying. “Please...” She begged, biting down on her lip, “you’re killing me.” If he was going to keep doing this she would full on cum in public and she wasn’t exactly ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could hide that, holy fuck it was already overwhelming. She wished they were alone. “Funny.... you touched my clit before kissing me.”

“Mm. I know that once I start m’not gonna stop.” And that was the truth. The man knew that he would get one taste of her cherry mouth? He would want to sip on it for a while. And plus... it was less obvious. But he took his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth and sucking the slick arousal off. It was sweet. Beautiful. The best he had ever tasted— and Harry did like to eat pussy, so that was saying a lot.

“What’s stopping you? It will feel good.” Y/N repeated his words from earlier in the night, hoping he’d listen. She thought she’d pass out just then, a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him sucking her wetness of his fingers. The man really wanted to end her didn’t he? The look of pure enjoyment on his face, it should be illegal.

“So good. But... turn.” He instructed, cupping the side of her face with the clean hand. “You’re being very good now. So..” Harry murmured, leaning down and connecting their lips. And he swore, he completely lost his mind. It was like that instant connection just made sense. Being like this with her, the kiss, it had him feeling. Truly. He was incredibly shocked but he continued the kiss. It wasn’t too dirty— it was relatively soft considering he was just rubbing her cunt moments ago. But it was delicious.

Good god. Y/N’d never felt this before. A true surge of electricity bolted through her, the kiss passionate but not too off putting. It was just a kiss two people that really liked each other would share. Y/N knew people were taking photos, it was as if she could feel people’s eyes on them. The gasps from around them also sort of helped. She just let one of her hands wrap around his wrist while the other gripped onto the lapel of his jacket. She could get lost doing this all day. Y/N hoped they would get to do this freely from now on, she wasn’t sure she could ever go without kissing him again.

Harry couldn’t care less about the people taking photos. His hands held her soft little face and their lips pulled apart only for him to go back— this time for tiny little pecks to make her giggle. It was cute. He wanted her to feel that way when he kissed her.

Y/N did giggle at the pecks that he left on her lips, scrunching her nose a little bit because she just couldn’t believe that she was in fact kissing Harry Styles. This was truly a dream come true, unfortunately she’d sound like a nutter if she told him that.

“S’good.” Harry said when he pulled apart for real, placing one last kiss to her forehead. “Want to leave, Kiska?” Harry wanted to get her alone. Get her in his damn lap. The moment the car pulled away from the club he would have his hand back up her dress. He was positive Y/N knew the same. He needed to get inside of her. Have this one night. Maybe it would get his need for her out of his system. Sure— he didn’t think so, but he was hoping so that his heart wouldn’t be in danger. He didn’t realize his heart was already right in the palm of her hand and she had the power to crush it into powder.

“Can we?” Y/N asked softly, eyes wide and soft. Ready to submit and she knew that he knew. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him for a moment before finishing her drink and walking with him towards where Jeff was to bid him and Glenne a good night. They probably would get scolded on a normal night, but they had made quite the show. They did more than enough, too enamored with each other to even think to speak to anyone else. Jeff knew that they were both very much into each other and laughed because they were both in denial. Y/N less so.

“Gonna have a lot of cameras outside. Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Gotta behave until we pull away.” Harry spoke to her as he helped her with her jacket, moving her hair out of the way. It was dumb to be so proud of a mark on her neck, but he had been aware of how guys looked at her. Aware that she wasn’t. And then people would know, they’d be so aware that Y/N was his pretty girl. Confirm that relationship. Opening the door, he had a tight grip on her waist as he led her out of the club. The questions were yelled out but he focused on getting her to the car. It took a minute, but he opened the back of the door and picked her up with her up by the waist once again. She moved over, and Harry got in behind her.

“My place, please.” He called to the driver before shutting the partition. Once it was closed, and they began to drive away? Harry turned right back to her. “You... make me lose control.” He growled, pulling her into his lap. Her hips were bigger and there was that tiny little belly that he liked, but his hands gravitated towards her ass. Gripping it tightly with one hand, the other came up to her throat. Her gasp had him twitching in his pants. Y/N seemed to love it.

Y/N squeaked as he pulled her into his lap, her dress riding up significantly. She set her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself, moving them down to his chest once she felt comfortable. The hand on her throat though, that was the best surprise of the night.

“Mmm.” She whimpered, looking down at him with a smile. Y/N was a kinky bitch. No man had ever really understood that. She was never able to play up her sexuality in bed, never able to truly let loose and do whatever she wanted because the guys never knew how to properly dominate her. But Harry knew, she knew he would. “That’s a good thing.” She teased, “need to loosen up, rockstar.”

Harry was happy. She was taking to it easily, and that only added to his arousal. Y/N was what he wanted in bed. Seemingly submissive but a little bit of a brat. So far she had been lippy but he loved it.

“Do I?” He murmured. “I can think of a few ways to help me relax.” His mouth moves forward to her chest, kissing the swells of her tits. “These... these fucking tits.” It was a hiss, licking over between them before he switched to the other side. “You know how much I love them.” He needed to have a good taste. It was necessary. “And you’ve got them up on display, wanting for me to touch them, hm?” He questioned. “Do you know how many times I’ve been thinking about them covered in cum? Hm?”

“You like them, don’t you daddy?” Y/N cooed, watching as he went to kiss at her soft pillowy breasts. “Had them out just for you...” She added because she really did. No one else mattered right now. But, he’d.... thought about her tits? His cum on her tits? Multiple times? She must be dreaming. Sure, she’s been masturbating to the thought of him since she was 13, but to think he was jerking off to the thought of her? It made her moan out loud. “It’d look so pretty.”

“You... are absolutely sinful.” Harry’s mouth closed in near her covered nipple, and looked up at her. “Mmm. Had them out for me? What a great, sweet girl.” Harry's head was going into overdrive because he wanted to be touching any inch he could of her. Wanted to touch and lick her body over and over again and drive his cock in deep. “Said that you’ve never been fucked properly before... s’so sad, baby. Isn’t it? Need to have a good cock inside of you. Do you like it rough?” He questioned, looking up at her honey eyes. “Like it hard? Or do you want it soft?” He wanted to make it good for both of them, so he asked the question even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

“Only for you...” She told him, knowing she had never been this sinful in her life. Only in her mind in the fantasies that he lived in. Y/N let out a moan, nodding her head at his question. “N—no never...” She answered honestly, thinking about how she liked it. She liked it rough but liked it soft as well, figuring that whatever it was Harry decided to do she’d love it because it was Harry and his glorious cock that she felt bulking up against her crotch.

Y/N loved how vocal he was, how he talked to her through every little action. It’s almost as if he wanted her to fumble as he pleasured her. Y/N didn’t mind though, she thought she sounded quite hot when she was being pleasured. Her previous encounters loved phone sex with her. Her hand went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair like she knew he liked as his plump strawberry lips wrapped around her nipple. He looked so fucking pretty like that.

“I like it rough mostly, but some soft bits are nice... mix it up.” She told him, “just use me... I like it deep. I want to feel you in my belly.”

His sweet girl. This innocent thing was asking Harry to use her. She was dirty in ways that he knew a lot of other people weren’t. Sure, they talked a good game but when it came down to it, they couldn’t take it. But Y/N? She was sitting in his lap with his hand on her throat and ass and asked him to use her. That, was exactly what she wanted. He could tell by her face. That was the hottest thing. She wanted to be his baby, but his baby slut. He loved it. Y/N was surprising him at every turn. Sure, he had expected a little kinky from how she had been acting but... she turned around and used daddy, had let him play with her cunt under a bar, all of it and that was hot.

“Deep in that precious belly, hm? Bury myself in your little cunt and make you take it, s’that it, my girl?” Harry kept calling her his. Because in the back of his mind, she was. Y/N had been his since that first day, even though he would keep denying it.

“Yes, please, daddy...” Y/N nodded in response, truly looking so bloody happy to be in this position. They’d be at his soon and she would get her relief soon enough. She felt like she had proven herself to be a good girl and that he wouldn’t tease her as much when they got inside. “Told you I was naughty...” Y/N reminded him, “but it’s just the way you like it.” She smirked and moved her hips forward to add a little pressure to his cock. “And I guarantee I’m the naughtiest you’ll ever have.” It was a bold statement but she was positive it was true. All she wanted was for him to be pleased.

Y/N felt the car come to a stop and was slightly upset that their little car journey was over, but even more excited to get inside and see what exactly he had planned for the two of them. Y/N loved how dominant Harry had proven to be, thoroughly enjoying pleasuring her as well as himself. She was positive she’d never feel this amazing in her life.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Y/N to ruin him. He wanted to make her feel good but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to get this out of his head every time he saw her.

Grabbing her little bag, he tipped the driver handsomely before scrambling into the house. He needed this and wanted it and didn’t want to waste a single damn second. Y/N was eager too, Harry snickering as she basically tugged him up to his front door. They couldn’t do anything out here— but as soon as he got inside?

He slammed the door shut and pressed her against it, mouth on hers yet again again. Harry found that it was one of his new favorite places. The taste and the warm feeling... he loved it so much. Her tongue ran across his lips and into his mouth and he was hooked. Shoving their jackets off, he grabbed hold of her and lifted her with ease, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna wreck you, baby. Make you cum so hard that you can’t fucking breathe.” He hadn’t tried overstimulation before but he just as well may with her. She overwhelmed him quite a bit.

Y/N groaned against his mouth, eagerly moving to push his jacket off of him just as he pushed hers off. Her arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders as he lifted her, the kiss only becoming that much more intense when his hands landed on her ass. She swore it was one of her favorite feelings.

“Ugh, yes, daddy PLEASE!” She moaned out, desperate to get this dress off and to get him naked as well. Y/N only had a small thong underneath, having forgone a bra for the sake of the dress. It was tight enough that it kept them in place. Her dream was coming to life and she would make damn sure to make the best of it. Y/N’s moved to kiss from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, finding a soft spot right below his jawline on his neck. She decided to return the favor from earlier, living a hickey of her own there. Hopefully he didn’t mind. “Can’t wait for you to fill me..” she whispered in his ear. “Я хочу тебя.” A simple, I want you in Russian just to get him going. “I want you so bad..”

It was the Russian that had Harry’s blood hot. He wanted to hear her speak it all the time. What if they had kids? She could teach them— Wait.

Fuck. That was a weird fucking thought and he had to shake himself out of it. There wouldn’t be kids. The hell was wrong with him? It had to be the power of her pussy— but he hadn’t even been inside yet.

“Gotta get you naked.” Harry needed her naked and wet and ready for him. That was the goal, anyways. To have this girl spread out and eager to be taking his cock. Y/N was telling him that she couldn’t wait so he held her to him, walking towards his room. They wouldn’t be leaving that bed, unless it was to fuck against a wall or in the bathroom. His shoes were kicked off as he stepped in, nearly blind because they were kissing again and Y/Ns hands were all over his hair, it was amazing. Truly. His cock ached and was begging to be inside of her but every second of this was incredible to him.

Once Harry placed her on the bed Y/N sat up, unzipping her dress and lifting it up above her head quickly, but careful as to not rip it. She really liked that dress. It was at this point that Y/N was eye level with his cock, allowing her hands to travel to the loops in his pants, pulling him closer to her.

“Fuck me...” She mumbled, one of her hands palming over his aching cock. She unzipped them and pulled ever so slightly until they pooled at his ankles, eyes still very much focused on his cock. Y/N looked up at him, a devilish look in her eyes as she wanted for some direction. She admittedly got distracted but it was because this was the cock she had been dreaming about, the cock she imagined filling her mouth and her cunt and even her ass. “You’re so big daddy, so handsome...” She commented, pressing a kiss to his clothes cock and smiling to herself. She was pushing buttons.

There was something so incredibly hot to Harry about her sitting on his bed, eye level with his cock. She had just instinctually gone to it, kissing on it... that was the hottest thing. Being so genuinely into him and wanting to touch. There had been many a time now these past few months and he had thought about this view. However now he was in full view of her tits and her messy hair, her looking up with those eyes at him. He was a mess.

“Yeah? Thank you, baby.” He murmured. “Why don’t you take it out, hm... suck a little bit. And then I want to have my turn.” He was thirsting for her cunt. Literally. He just wanted to kiss and suck and lick her sweet pussy until she came over and over again. He wanted her to feel how good it was to have her cunt properly worshipped. Y/N was a good girl, but she was so bad. He had a feeling she would utterly love that.

Y/N smiled as he gave her the go ahead, tugging on his shirt and muttering a small “off” because she wanted to see his perfectly toned torso and chest. Harry was really her version of a perfect man, everything about him made her crazy and she couldn’t stop herself. Not now, not anymore. This was raw and real. Y/N gently pulled his cock out from his boxer briefs, pushing them down all the way while she leaned in and spat all over his cock. Y/N locked her eyes with his, letting the spit travel down his cock while she went to lick from the base to the top. She let her hand spread the sloppy mess that she made, pumping at the base while her lips wrapped around the lip and began sucking.

The amount of times she had thought about this, the amount of times he imagined hearing him moan for her and pull her hair. Just feeling the weight of his cock on her tongue, it was everything she desired. Y/N took more of him into her mouth once she felt comfortable, moaning against him a bit because she knew it would feel good.

Holy shit. Harry had expected her to be eager, a little dirty— but she may be right. It’s probably that Y/N was going to be the dirtiest girl he’s ever been with. It was evident by how she spit on his cock, looking right up at him as she made a mess. Something Harry fucking loved. Other partners didn’t love a mess but he did. In his opinion, it was hotter. More passionate. A good spit or cum all over was good. Arousing. And Y/N was on her knees, licking over his cock and pumping her hand at the bottom. Harry was big, but Y/N took it like a fucking champion. His hand gathered her hair in his fist. Gently yanking on it to show he had control before allowing her to continue. And then she began to moan with his cock in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down— it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“God, yes. Keep sucking my cock like that— fucccck. That’s a girl.” He praised, watching her closely. “Messy little girl. You like it messy, huh? Like getting daddy’s cock all wet? Good job. Doing just what I asked.”

Y/N was determined and dedicated to making him feel good, making it very clear with the way she was working her mouth over his cock like he was a lollipop of sorts. She hummed in response, not wanting to pull off because he seemed to really like what she was doing. Y/N kept eye contact as she tried to take more and more of him into her mouth, giving him full control over her with his hand in her hair. She did say she wanted him to use her so it really was free reign. They had all night to play around with each other, but she could already tell she had left a damp spot on his bed with how increasingly wet she was getting from watching him. The way his face contorted in pleasure, his gritty voice. She was thoroughly enjoying every second and she wouldn’t stop unless he told her to.

Harry was in love with her mouth. He wanted it around him 24/7. Harry was also an incredibly sexual person with a filthy, kinky mind. “Can imagine you warming my cock just like this while I take some calls. Would be very nice, wouldn’t it, Y/N?” He grabbed her hair tighter and began to pump in and out of her mouth. When he first met her he hadn’t ever imagined actually being able to fuck her mouth. But the girl gave over control, looking up with watery eyes as he took over. She could handle a little deeper. So he did just that, hissing when her throat tightened a bit around his Fock before pulling out. She sputtered but then— the slut whined. “Even after gagging on my cock, you’re still whining to have it back in your mouth? Fuck. You’re a cockslut, Baby. Can't believe this.” He gave it back and immediately had that suction again, her every suck in time with how he thrusted into the mouth. Every so often he would get just deep enough to make her gag and repeated the process, watching as she began to drool on him. “Shit— so messy. Such a messy little whore. Drool all over your chin and you’re still eager for my cock.” He was in awe. Y/N was something he had dreamed of and she only kept getting better.

Y/N felt smug. Harry was so shocked every time she whined for his cock and she wondered what I’m earth those other girls were doing. To Y/N, it wasn’t good sex unless she was fully letting go and doing everything her heart desired to and with her partner. Y/N pulled off of him hesitantly, licking up and down his cock as she caught her breath and then spoke.

“Can I make you cum like this daddy?” Her voice low and hoarse, “think you’ll be able to go again if I do?” She asked, just wanting to make sure though she was positive he would. Harry seemed like a kinky bastard and she wanted to make him cum as many times as she possibly could tonight. Her pussy was fucking aching. She was practically bouncing against the bed trying to get some friction. She whined a little bit, not wanting to full on ask because she was too busy servicing his cock, but she wanted it... bad.

“Yes— yeah, I can cum again for you.” Harry could. If it was Y/N? He knew that he’d be able to give her anything she wanted as long as she gave him those eyes and that little pout. He was so whipped already and he was positive that she was going to turn his life upside down. It was too late to stop it. “Go ahead. Make me cum, then.” He coaxed. “Want it in your mouth and on your tits. I know you can do that for me. You’ve been such a slutty girl, and you’ll like being covered in daddy’s cum.”

That seemed to set Y/N off. Her mouth was on his cock and sucking hard, hand going quickly over it. Harry’s mouth opened and a groan left him, overtaken with pleasure. It was no doubt he was going to cum quickly. It had been a while since he had fucked anyone and Y/N had some spell over him. He didn’t have to say much else, Y/N returned her mouth on to him and let her hand work the rest that she couldn’t reach. She remembered all the spots that set Harry off and paid close attention to them, sucking harder and moving at a quicker pace than before. Y/N moaned against him, as if begging him to cum for her. She wanted to taste him, wanted to see him in that wonderful state of bliss. She had already moved past thinking that she wasn’t attractive to him, clearly she was doing things to him and it boosted her ego far more than should be allowed. When she felt his muscles start to tighten she continued her actions, moaning against him and keeping at her actions waiting for him to blow his load. It was glorious. The sound that came from his mouth, the way he filled her mouth. She pulled off of him and let some drip down her chin, making him blow the rest of her load on her chest.

“That’s it daddy, cum all over me..”

Harry hadn't cum that hard in a long time. Maybe ever because his toes felt a little numb, his mouth open and his cock actually throbbing with the arousal. His load had to have been huge, considering he hadn’t cum like this in a long time. She let half of it in her mouth, and then opened it and let it drool down her chin— which was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Her hand continued to work his cock as he covered her tits in ribbons of cum. There was nothing quite like the sight of her covered in it. Once he had calmed slightly, he lifted her up and tilted her head back, immediately going forward her mouth. Some guys refused to kiss their significant others when they’d gone down on them— but the messy state of her mouth had him beyond horny. Y/N responder with a mewl and Harry's hand went directly to her pussy.

“Down on the bed.” The mix of her spit and cum strung between both of their lips. “Spread your thighs. I want to lick you out.”

Y/N moaned against his mouth, eagerly moving back on to the bed. She had been waiting for him to touch her like this since the beginning of the night. She had a little taste of it at the bar but this? This was a whole other animal she swore she was absolutely not ready for. She was extremely sensitive to touch, it had been a really long time since anyone had slept with her and she truly forgot what it felt like. His warm ring clad hands on her caused goosebumps to spread all over her body, she was very much aroused. Harry nestled himself in between her legs, her heart pounding so hard she swore it would fly out of her chest. He hadn’t even done anything and she was already whimpering, pussy throbbing just from the sight. When you’ve been thinking about it for as long as she had, you would receive similar reactions. She convinced herself that she psychologically wired her brain to associate Harry with orgasms and that’s why it was affecting her like this.

Harry groaned. She had soaked through the thong. It was nearly see through, the pink tiny thing. He decided to lick right over it as a tease, and lottle Y/N jolted on the bed. He took hold of her by the apex of her thighs and held her down, swiping his tongue over the sticky fabric again.

“Hm.. what have we got?” He purred up at her. “A wet little pussy, huh?” He held her body to the bed, moving one arm now to stroke over her tummy. He moved up and kissed over her mound, over to her belly button and covered the surrounding areas with kisses. “Love this.” He had an attraction to it that he couldn’t quite explain. He just thrives off of seeing it. And now he would have to remember every single time to give it some love. But right now he needed some pussy, and that’s what he was going to get. He began to peel the panties off, growling in pleasure when he sat they were quite literally stuck to her. Fuck. He had done that, and he was proud of it. Her inner thighs were wet too, and Harry felt the heat of his body rise even more. “Christ, pet. You’re so wet...” He whispered. “Soaked through the panties... look at this. They’re stuck to you.” He said in awe. He gently peeled it back further, watching the arousal string on them. He was keeping these. “These are mine.” He took them and placed them on his night stand before taking a look. He didn’t waste much more time before leaning down, and taking one broad, long lick.

Y/N blushed, heat rushing to her face and chest as he observed her body. She was expecting to feel shy and embarrassed, but it was quite the opposite really. It was something she had always worried about, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was absolutely fucking perfect. A small giggle left her mouth at his astonishment, not realizing just how wet she actually was.

“Oh my god.” She moved her hands to cover her face, shaking her head before moving her hands so she could sit up a bit and lean on her elbows to watch him. She wasn’t sure how long that would last but she would try. The moan that left her was pornographic. Her whole body twitched at the feeling, pleasure spreading through her body already. She really was sensitive. “Harry..” She whimpered, looking down at him and seeing his darker green eyes flash up to look at her. “That feels... so good.”

Harry knew now that he was going to be obsessed with her pussy. Not only did it taste amazing but it felt so good on his tongue. Warm and soft, he didn’t mind the slick all over his chin as he ran his tongue up and down the little slit. Y/N was giving him everything.

“So sweet, princess. Taste so fucking good.” He was sure he was going to end up down here again tonight. He wanted it more than once and truly did have this affinity for her pussy. His tongue swiped up, running flat over her clit a few times. Swollen, he decided to rub his tongue around it in circles, which had her squeaking and moving her hips. To which he held her down again. He would decided when she could fuck his face.

Y/N tried closing her eyes thinking that maybe it would be less intense if she couldn’t see him but she was so so wrong. Her senses heightened and she swore she could feel every single cell in her body vibrate. He wasn’t even doing anything that special, but he had teased the fuck out of her to the point that anything would set her off. Y/N leaned back once again, allowing one of her hands to move to his hair while the other gripped at his blanket. He looked so happy to be nuzzled between her thighs, his eyes closed and invested in making her feel good.

“Ah fuck—“ Y/N’s voice went a few octaves higher, those circular motions always did her in. He was still going relatively slow and Y/N just tried to bite her moans back. It was embarrassing all the sounds she was letting out, but she truly had never had a guy pay this much attention to her pussy. She appreciated it so damn much. “Is there anything you can’t do? Fuck—” She whined, feeling like he was just good at everything he did. This man had no flaws in her book, the only problem was his terrible communication skills, but she wasn’t too fussed about that when his face nuzzled in her pussy.

Appreciating the compliment, Harry hummed against her and gave a bit of vibration to her. He had always enjoyed eating pussy, don’t get him wrong. But Y/N was on a whole other level. Reacting to every flick of his tongue, she was his favorite. He pulled away for a moment, spitting over her and going back to spread it around her with his tongue. He was going to blow her mind and he was ready to have her cumming all over his mouth and then his cock. It was a plan to have Y/N soak him and his bed. The next move was his favorite. Wrapping his lips around her clit, and sucking. Just slightly at first, but it was an immediate reaction. Letting out some curses, the grip on his hair tighter, he had a rhythmic and slow way about it, sucking over and over again on the little thing.

“Holy shit— fuck me—” Y/N cursed, gripping tighter on the bed sheets and his hair. Her breathing was slowly starting to pick up as the knot began to tighten in her stomach. Harry has clearly licked out plenty of pussies in his and enjoyed it. She always imagined him to be obsessed with it, but the way he treated hers made her feel like a princess. “S—so good...” Y/N whimpered, knowing that it would only get more intense from here. “Ещё Harry, пожалуйста!” More Harry, please! Her hips unintentionally moved up against his mouth once again, pleading for more in Russian. Maybe he would understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but she knew it was a big turn on for him so she thought maybe he’d do it naturally. There was only one way to find out. Her pussy throbbed against his tongue, her hole begging to be filled. “Please, fuck me... please...” Y/N begged, her voice sounding whiny and desperate. She desperately wanted to feel what it was like to have him fuck her. Properly Fuck her. Make her scream so loud she lost her damn voice.

“Mm. Patient. Daddy’s having fun.” Harry scolded, but dipped his fingers through the cum on her chest before going back to her clit. Using the dirty fingers, he began to slide one of them inside of her. There was something about the thought of his cum inside of her cunt that had Harry wanting more and more of it. He was nearly fucking nursing on her clit, humming happily as her cunt clenched hard around his finger, and he added the second. There was a high noise coming from Y/N, trying to lift her hips but he was doing a good job keeping her down. He wanted to make her cum like this. He was steady, thrusting the two fingers in and out of her soft pussy while defiling her with his cum. Every so often he would go up and scoop up a little more, sliding it back inside of her. It’s where it belonged in his mind. Y/N’s clit throbbed against his tongue, and his fingers could feel how badly she wanted to be fucked. Trying to milk them like she would be on his cock— god, he was going to be a mess as soon as he was inside of her. He was now. Nuzzling against her cunt and sucking harder against her clit, he wanted her to lose her mind

Y/N’s head was spinning. She’d never experienced pleasure like this and she knew for a fact it was all that teasing that did her in. For about three hours she was being edged on, touched, and teased. Even now he wasn’t doing enough to make her properly cum. No, this was all still build up. Whimpers and whines continued to escape her lips as she tried to stay still and relaxed, but it became harder and harder to do as he started pumping cum covered fingers inside of her. God, he was filthy, she loved it. A pussy full of Harry Styles’ cum? A dream. She’d have his fucking baby now if he asked, but frankly she was on the pill. It was surprisingly part of the contract because apparently even Jeff knew Harry liked to fuck raw.

“Please daddy, please let me cum...” Y/N pleaded, the despair present in her voice. “I’ve been so good for you, p—please daddy it hurts!” She whimpered, despite thoroughly enjoying the pain. It was worse than having an itch you couldn’t scratch. “I want your cock, pretty please!”

“Hm. I want you to cum for me first, baby. Before you can have my cock, I want a mess on my face.” Harry was desperate for it actually. He wanted it all over him and wanted to feel her cum on his fingers. Which he did absolutely begin to thrust in and out of her cunt even faster. It was so hot. Y/N was a moaning mess, literally begging for his cock while he finger fucked her. He could hear how wet she was with every thrust of his fingers, and she was rolling her hips as Harry sucked on her clit over and over again, trying to coax her into orgasm. Y/N felt good. She felt like she was meant to be on his tongue, like his fingers even felt perfectly aligned with her hips, and he knew that she was close. “Cmon baby. Let go for me. I know you want to cum for daddy.”

Y/N whined at his response, huffing and whining as he picked up speed. “Oh fuck— daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm and she swore all the breath left out of her lungs. “Oh my god!” The noise she let out was somewhere between a moan and a scream, her orgasm ripping through her. It was a sight to see. Her back arched off of her bed and legs shook uncontrollably, eyes rolling back from the sheer amount of pleasure that was coursing through her body. “Oh daddy..” She breathed heavily, a smile spreading across her face. She had never felt so good in her life. Y/N tugged I’m his hair, begging him to come up for a kiss. She needed it. She had fallen in love. There was no question about it. After knowing what she knew about him and getting to know him over these four months she had decided that she was in fact in love. She’d never tell.

----

It was 3 rounds. 3 rounds of hot and heavy and rough sex unlike anything else he had ever done. Harry knew sex wouldn’t ever be the same again. Y/N had ruined him. Completely and utterly ruined his ass and he couldn’t even be mad yet. Y/N was in his arms, underneath the covers. His hand stroked her hair as they spoke quietly about random things. He was relaxed and soft right now and Y/N had him in the perfect situation to get him to talk. Pillow talk was something he was good at. It's easier to be vulnerable when he was sexed out.

Y/N was messy but in a sexy way. Her hair wild and lips beyond swollen. They’d both need chapstick in the morning, but it was worth it. Her fingers played on his chest and traced his tattoos. Leg over his hip, snuggled right into him. It was unreal. The feeling of euphoria she had just experienced. Three whole rounds of incredible sex that definitely blew everyone else out of the water. She never thought she could connect with anyone like that, but if it would be anyone, it would be Harry. She pressed soft kisses to his warm and somewhat sweaty skin, tracing his tattoos that were still visible in the moonlight that came through the windows of Harry’s room. They never really spoke when they were alone and in private together, she figured now was probably a good time to talk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Y/N asked softly, genuinely curious because she had no idea what to think. She knew that she hadn’t been acting all night and that what they just shared was special, but what did that mean for them? Honestly, it was all I’m Harry’s hands.

“Well...” Harry was quiet, finger tangled in her hair. “I’m thinking about how that was really good. And how your legs are going to feel like jello tomorrow.” He let out a gentle laugh. Y/N was very, very good at riding. And taking spankings. “But mainly about how good that was. Never seen someone who was willing to go through it… like actually be as kinky as they said.” It was an upheld promise and it meant a lot to him, even if the premise was kind of dumb in hindsight. “A lot of people talk up a good game but when it comes to fulfilling promises or doing things they’re asked... it’s always bullshit. Overcompensating. It’s annoying.” He ran his hand over her arm. Y/N had given him a new point of view. “Especially in entertainment. People promise a lot and rarely deliver at all. They’ll introduce you to someone or they’ll call you, or they’re very good at x y z and end up being shit. It’s just hard. Everyone in this industry likes to talk big games. I know it’s a little dumb but, was nice to see someone who lived up to their talk. Also... someone who didn’t mind getting their mouth spit into.”

Y/N giggled are his comments, listening closely as he spoke. Lucky for her, his voice was nice and slow, very relaxing and comforting. She kept going back to the thought of her in her room thinking about doing this one day and here she was. This was the most he had ever opened up to her and she definitely wasn’t taking it for granted. It was a special moment, it felt like a breakthrough. Her heart was swelling three times its original sizes, she swore it.

“It’s not dumb, it makes sense.” Y/N spoke softly, still tracing his tattoos as a form of soothing him. She laughed at his last comment, taking a second to think before speaking. “I know you were a bit apprehensive about letting me into your life, and maybe you still are, but I do appreciate all the time we get to spend together.” Y/N spoke I’m a small voice, almost scared he’d reject her kindness because he usually did. “You’re a really great guy, Harry.” It was like word vomit, she just had to tell him how she felt without scaring him. Tell him that she liked him, a lot.

Harry’s heart tugged hard. Fuck. He hated that he had to be so distant to her. It was better than the beginning but he knew he was getting too close. Tonight he thought he was going to let himself live in the fantasy world he wanted to be in.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. God, she was stunning. He could hear the nerves in her voice and he wasn’t going to be the one to crush her right now. He’d wait at least until the morning to remind her that they shouldn’t be doing this and that it was his fault but he couldn’t. Fuck, even the thought made him want to vomit. this felt so right. Y/N was what he wanted but it was that part of him that was so desperately terrified to get close to people that kept speaking from the back of the head that got him every time. “You are too. Far too good.” Realistically he knew Y/N was good, but that deep rooted fear of being used had him holding on to the reins and not willing to let go of his stupid thought that perhaps she just wanted to be famous. There had been no signs. Nothing. Not promoting her bakery any more than normal, not talking to the media. But he was still hesitant. “You’re very nice to me, Y/N. I know sometimes I don’t deserve it but I appreciate it.”

Y/N closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat relax. She had heard it shift, knowing something must have made him nervous and she decided to ignore it for the time being as just listen to what he was saying to her. He was being nice to her, in a Harry in private type of way.

“I didn’t think you—” She paused herself, something telling her to be careful with her choice of wording. “I thought you didn’t like me for a really long time... I just wanted you to accept me because I know this situation isn’t ideal.” Y/N explained, “I hoped I could help in any way...” God she was back to being nervous all over again, word vomit just spewing out because she was terrified he wouldn’t speak to her again. She didn’t want to be the clingy girl after sex. She had gotten way too ahead of herself thinking that he actually liked her like that.

“Hey... you’re good.” Harry panicked a little, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Damn, he hadn’t wanted Y/N scared. He was just trying to articulate. But he was kind of mean to her. “You’ve been perfect. I know dealing with me hasn’t been easy. I’m not the perfect person and it’s hard for me, too. I’m not good with new people. Or trusting them.” It was so much easier letting fans into the sliver of his life because they’d never truly know him. But Y/N was a scary aspect because she would be close. Know all his secrets. And he would be forced to trust her. “I never didn’t like you.” That much was true. “I don’t trust easily. It’s a bit scary when... when the whole world wants something from you. You never know who it is and who is safe. Who will pop up and ask something of you. There’s differences. It takes me a while to decide if someone is okay. And it was hard because you’ve been thrusted right in the hardest part. But I can tell you that you’ve been the best and the only person I think that can deal with me.” She was a saint for how she put up with him.

Y/N felt a little pang in her heart at his words. It was sentimental and maybe she was a baby because she was going to hold on to these words for the rest of her life, but she didn’t care. It would be those words that would get her through the tough days when he was acting super distant or when she was sad in general.

“It’s okay, I understand. I never expected to just walk into your life and suddenly be your best mate... I guess my point is I’m glad you trust me enough— enough to do all these things with you.” Y/N said quietly, feeling herself already drifting off into sleep.

“Night night.” She whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest once again before feeling herself slip off into dream land. The sex had properly tired her out and she needed some rest.

----

It was weird. Harry got a good night's sleep which was incredibly rare for him. He hadn’t wanted to equate it to the sleepy kitten like girl in his arms but it had to be. 100%. Y/N was snoozing in his arms and it physically pained his chest to get out of bed but he needed some coffee.

11 am. They’d slept in rather late. Considering they’d been up until probably 4, it made sense though. Now his mind was racing as he started the coffee pot, wondering how he could push Y/N away. He couldn’t become dependent on her. For sleep or sex or affection. Anything. He hadn’t been regretful at all— he loved last night. He wished that his head wasn’t such a mess. But Y/N deserved better than him for a real love. He had trust issues and insecurities and he was a jealous man and the only reason he hadn’t gone out and punched people who hit on her was because he couldn’t. Y/N needed someone emotionally out together. She had a good heart and would probably offer to help him but he needed to tell her it would be better if they just remained distant friends. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell— and a slightly embarrassed to be shirtless Harry had to make his way to the door. Thank god he had pulled on sweats.

Y/N woke up shortly after Harry, feeling the warmth missing. Last night was truly incredible and she just hoped to god things stayed okay. Prayed that she didn’t mess things up by sleeping with him. She pouted a bit at the lack of warmth in the bed, but the smell of coffee meant he was most likely downstairs. Aw that’s sweet. She got up and went to pull on his shirt that was laying around from last night, walking down the stairs just as she heard the doorbell ring.

Huh. That was weird. Was he expecting anyone? Maybe it was Jeff? Regardless, Y/N let her sore legs guide her downstairs only to be met with the sound of a familiar voice. An unwelcome familiar voice. Was it who she thought it was?

Rounding the corner, the identity was confirmed. Kendall fucking Jenner.

-----------------------------------

[part 5]

A/N: oof 🥵🥵🥵 but also a cliff hanger?? the tension!!! you’re in for a bumpy ride

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry writing #jarofstyles

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