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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

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Second Best

summary: you and Harry meet at a party, but he seems to take more interest in your sister than in you, and you won't be Second Best.

author’s note: bonjour mes chéris!! this is the first instalment of hannah being the history/french student she is and merging all three of her worlds and creating her own little fictional one. this is based off of lousia may alcott’s little women (one of may favourite books ever) but with my own little twist on it. this is set in the 1860′s during the civil war but i haven't made it too historical at all. i have done all of the translations myself and even though i'm semi-fluent i still make mistakes so if you spot any let me know. this is so long so i'll shut up now, thanks for all the support bye!! <3

word count: 16k of good old fashioned marriage talk (there’s a lot of it, its all they spoke about tbf??), fluff, angst and a lil’ smut. there is marriage and children at the end (woo, exciting!) not proofread because my eyes are already asleep.

masterlist | speak to me about second best here!

“Stand up straight, don’t slouch. You have a tendency to do so, and these people will not tolerate it.” You sister, Lizzie, says as she pushes her arm between yours, walking you towards the fancy house in front of the two of you, “Whatever you do, don’t speak about your art at all. Nobody can stop you once you’ve started. Do speak if you’re spoken too, and if you’re asked to dance, dance.”

You shake your head, “But I don’t want to dance.”

“You will dance.” Lizzie says again, squeezing your arm slightly, “You may find yourself a husband if you act proper enough.”

“I shouldn’t have to act proper just to find a husband, Lizzie.” You scoff, shaking your head, “If they don’t love me, oil paints and all, then I don’t want them. I don’t think I’ll ever find a husband.”

“Oh shush with you.” She says, tapping your arm slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it did cause your lips to part in shock, “How lovely would it be if father returned and you were married! It would make his life.”

“I think he’d have a heart attack.” You mutter, removing your arm from around hers as you stand outside of the door you were going to walk through in mere minutes, “I’m his little girl, you are also, Lizzie. If we were both to be married I’d think we’d kill him off.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking. I truly believe that would happen.” You deadpan.

She scoffs and slips her arm through yours this time, using her free hand to ring the bell. A man wearing one of the fanciest suits you’ve ever seen in your life opens the door, allowing the two of you to slip through. You help Lizzie remove her shawl, whilst she does the same to you. The man hangs them up amongst the array of other jackets. You lips part in shock at the sight of the house you were in, the first thing your eyes falling upon being the large staircase, with paintings littering the walls. For once, you were speechless, unable to control your excitement and want to gawk at the art upon the wall.

“Lizzie!” You gasp, gripping her arm tightly, “Look at the—”

“Don’t you dare say paintings!”

“Lizzie!” You groan again, pulling her arm so that she’s looking your direction, “Look at them.”

“I’m looking at them.” She lifts her eyes to look at the wall you were looking at, where the pieces hung with such grace and elegance, “They don’t seem too spectacular.”

A shocked gasp escapes your lips, “Take that back, Lizzie! They are beautiful!

“If you say so.”

She removes you from your awe of the paintings and pulls you towards the ballroom. There’s people everywhere, the most amount of people you think you’ve ever seen in your life. You watch as they mingle with glasses of Champagne in their hands, the expensive material of their dresses sparkling in the light from the chandelier. Men stood wooing the women before them, flicking their suit jackets and inviting them to dance. The dresses the women were wearing were something out of dreams. You weren’t the biggest fan of dresses, in fact, you lived in trousers around the house, but you couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about your tattered dress. You’ve had the dress for a year or so, and the holes and rips and anything else you’d manage to do to the material could be seen in the light even if you’d fixed it.

“Lizzie!” The call comes from somebody who you don’t recognise, but Elizabeth certainly did and before the syllables of her name could escape your lips, she’s gone. You watch as your sisters whisked away with the crowd, leaving you stood there with no clue as to what to do.

Gripping the material of your dress, you slip yourself to stand by one of the doorways, away from the hustle and bustle of everyone in the room, but close enough for you to be able to watch. Lizzie stands in the middle, just as she always is, with a group of people around her. She was always the centre of attention, the one that everyone loved — you included. You were only a few years younger than her, but you were the only siblings each of you had, so you were close. You had your disagreements, that was certain, but you always came back stronger. You weren’t shocked when you noticed her spinning around holding some man’s hand, dancing away with a smile on her face that always made your insides happy. If she was happy, you were happy.

“Not one for dancing?” You eyes almost bulge out of your head as you hear a voice next to you, a male one at that.

“Oh, um, not really.” You laugh, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m not a very good dancer. I don’t really like dancing, to be completely honest.”

“Everyone loves dancing.” The man says, and you’re able to get a good look at him. A black suit, with a crisp-white shirt sits upon his torso. His hair was a fluffy brown, a chestnut that you found yourself in awe of. His green eyes ones of masterpieces, better than any art you could ever see upon any wall in any gallery, “I believe you are just lying.”

“I am not.” You shake you head, “My sister told me that if anyone asked me to dance I must say yes, but I have decided that I mustn’t. I have two left feet and anyone who is to ever dance with me will regret it, I know of it.”

“I highly doubt that.” He shakes his head, sipping from the glass he had in his hand, “Your sister shouldn’t force you do dance either.”

“Oh.” You shake your head, “Lizzie isn’t forcing me to dance, she just wants the best for me. Dancing is how people meet.”

“It’s how we met.” He says after a few seconds.

You let out a small chuckle, running your tongue over your lips slightly, “Sir, pardon me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.” He smiles, “M’names Harry.”

“Oh!” You exclaim again, “Harry Styles! You’ve just moved in next door with your father! Mother saw you the other day.”

“You must be—”

“—YN YLN.” You hold your hand out for him to shake, immediately shaking your head and pulling it back, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, Lizzie forgot to remind me to not shake hands. It’s not very ladylike, I know.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” He holds his hand out, and you bite your lip and shake it, “And please don’t call me Mr. Styles. I’m not my father. Call me Harry.”

“Harry.” The name slips from your lips, “I think Lizzie would die if she saw me talking to you.”

“If I may, would you show me Lizzie?” He asks and you nod.

You nod and turn back to the crowd, fluttering your eyes across all of the people in hopes to spot your sister. She was wearing red, the colour which suited her the most in your opinion, so she wasn’t too hard to spot. She was dancing in the middle of the room with a man with blonde hair, a suit similar to the one that Harry was wearing upon his body. She looked happy, and the sight caused a smile to flutter across your lips.

“She’s in the middle there.” You say, nodding your head in the girls direction, “The one in the red dress.”

You turn to look at Harry and once his eyes fall upon your sister, you can tell that the whole world stops around him. His lips part, his eyes widen and if you look closely you can see the reflection of the red dress in his eyes. You’re unsure how long he’s staring at her, but you’re staring at him for the exact same amount of time.

“It’s a. . .” He fumbles with his words after a few seconds, lifting his hands to scratch the back of his neck, “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It is.” You agree, “Mother let her save up her allowance to buy the material. I should’ve done the same but I spent mine on paints.”

“You paint?” His raises his eyebrow, finally looking back at you.

You nod, “I love to.”

“Then you have every right to spend your money on paints.” He says, and you try to hide the heat that falls upon your cheeks, “You dress is perfectly swell

“It’s not beautiful though.”

“It’s swell, YN.” He reminds you again, “I’m sure you’ll get a beautiful dress at some point.”

Then you’ve lost him. You’re not surprised, though. Everyone prefers Lizzie to you, it’s just how it’s always been. You watch the back of him as he walks towards your sister, taking the world in his stride behind him as he does so. You watch as she courtesy’s for the man she has just danced with, and before Lizzie can go anywhere, she’s scooped up to dance with Harry. Maybe if you had bought the Emerald material your mother had wanted you to, Harry would be dancing with you right now instead of Lizzie. Maybe if you hadn’t been so against dancing in the first place he might’ve asked you to dance.

No, you wouldn’t stoop to that level for a man of all people. If Harry didn’t want to dance with you, ‘swell dress’ and all then you weren’t going to change yourself, no matter how much you wanted to, for a mere man.

“YN!” Lizzie delightful glee of your name came after their dance had died down. Lizzie came bouncing towards you, a just as bashful Harry following behind her, “Harry has offered to take us home in his carriage!”

“Now?” You ask, your heart hopeful that they’d both say yes.

Lizzie turns to look at Harry who shrugs his shoulders slightly, “If the two of you want to, we can.”

“Oh no.” Lizzie places her hand upon his shoulder, “We couldn’t dare take you away from the festivities. We will wait until you’re finished.”

“I’m ready to leave myself, Miss YLN.” He says to Lizzie, the same heat falling upon her cheeks as you had felt earlier.

“Please. Call me Lizzie.”

“Okay, Lizzie.” He grins, “I’ll just go fetch the carriage, see you by the front door?”

Lizzie nods, and you give him a small smile and watch as he walks towards the door. You try not to stare as he shrugs on his coat but it’s hard to, and you know that Lizzie is feeling the exact same way that you are.

“Oh YN.” She gushes, turning to you and placing her hands upon your shoulder, “He’s a perfect gentlemen.”

“Is that so?” You ask, walking towards the door also to fetch your shawl, shrugging it on your shoulders.

“It is.” She copies your actions with her own, “He asked to dance, saying that you were the one to introduce me to him. I can’t thank you enough, dear sister.”

“It’s no issue.” You shake off, turning away from her so that she can’t see the fall in your face, “He seemed to take a fancy to you once I’d pointed you out from the crowd.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” You nod your head, turning to look at her. Her shawl was scraggly thrown upon her body, probably from how distracted she was, and you lean forward to sort it for her whilst she gleams over your shoulder at nothing. You wonder if this is what it was like to meet your husband, butterflies and distractions from that moment on. It hadn’t happened yet for you, and seeing the way Lizzie was acting, you decided that you didn’t really want it happen, “Couldn’t take his eyes off you, sweet one.”

She squeals and wraps her arms around you, squeezing you slightly. You were happy that she was happy, and you wouldn’t take that away from her.

The door opened, revealing a blushed faced Harry due to the cold outside, “Ready?”

“YN!” Your mother calls from the floor below you, “Can you please come and set the table?”

You groan and remove your paintbrush from your canvas. The day prior you had been given a small sum of money from your Aunt Jemima after visiting and immediately gone to the store in town to pick up some new canvases. It was heaven to receive little amounts of money like these and you almost always spent it on canvases so you wouldn’t have to use paper, which was the cheaper alternative that you had to buy.

“I’m a little busy!” You call back, moving so that you can shout out of your door, “Can you ask Lizzie?”

“She isn’t here!” Your mother calls back and you groan. You place your palette down on the table beside you, as well as your brushes in the pot of water you had brought up with you. You wipe your hands on your apron before pulling it over your head and off your body. You drape it over your bed carefully, being careful to not get anything on the linen.

You bounce down the steps, tucking your hair that falls down in ringlets by the side of your face behind your ear. Entering the kitchen, you place a kiss to your mother’s cheek. She stands over the side, chopping some vegetables that she’s going to bring to boil for your dinner. She greets you with a smile and continues chopping.

“Is Lizzie with Harry?” You ask, placing the cutlery beside each mat on the table, noticing that there were four like there had started to be now.

“Of course she is.” Your mother shakes her head, “They’re always somewhere causing trouble.”

You had to suppress your grin. Lizzie had been the good girl of the family for so long, always doing everything that was asked of her and your were the one who tended to ignore requests so that you could continue doing whatever you wanted to. Since Lizzie had met Harry, that had been completely flipped upside down. You were the good girl of the family who did everything that was asked of you, and Lizzie was the one always getting out of doing things by sneaking off with Harry.

Since the two had met just over two months ago, they had been inseparable. When the two of you weren’t being taught how to read and write by your mother, Lizzie was always somewhere doing something with Harry. The other week he had taken her to the theatre and words couldn’t explain how jealous you were. You and Lizzie did everything together, and you always had done, but now you felt second best to someone who she hardly knew. You knew a part of you was jealous, but you would never admit that. What you did admit to yourself was that you were lonely and missing your sister.

“Is Harry staying for supper?” You ask, filling up the water jug to be placed upon the table.

“I’m guessing so.” Your mother says, moving to bend down by the fire to check on the meat, “It’s ready. Will you go get them? I think they’re by the river.”

You nod your head, moving to the front door to retrieve your shawl and boots. They were always at the river, as though it was there place. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why they’d chosen that place out of all, especially during the winter months. Snow was just around the corner and the two of them decided to spend their days moments away from catching a cold by the river.

The walk itself was five or so minutes through the woods behind your house, watching your step for fallen branches and wild animals. Lizzie was usually the one who brought you to the lake, so it was a given that you hadn’t been in a while.

Once the trees start to disperse, you stand in the middle of the opening to try and spot them. You do, quite quickly in fact. They’re stood by the water, picking up stones every now and then to skim across it, rippling the stillness with their movements. Skimming stones felt like a normal thing to see people doing, but once you watch Lizzie throw her arms around his neck, you feel like a little portion of you crumbles inside. You hadn’t seen them like this before, and you never ever wanted to see them like that again.

“Lizzie!” You call, snapping them out of their trance so that they turn to look at you. Lizzie immediately removes her arms from around Harry’s neck.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No.” You shake your head, “Mother just asked me to collect the two of you for supper.”

The two nod and move around where they were stood to collect their things but you don’t wait for them. Instead, you turn around and walk back towards the house. You can hear them laughing but you refuse to look back, because you know that you won’t be able to handle it. The temperature drops dramatically as you walk back, and you pull your shawl closer to you to help preserve some heat. You had a suspicion that at some point this evening it would start snowing, which you weren’t too unhappy about. It would give you time to finish the painting you started today, and hopefully create some more.

They aren’t close behind you as you reach the door, so you enter and immediately walk towards the table which is looking a lot fuller than it had been.

“Are they coming?” Your mother asks and you nod, sitting down at the table. They enter a few minutes later, Harry greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek.

The three join you at the table, Harry next to you, Lizzie next to him and your mother sat next to the spare seat — where your father usually sat. You all join hands in saying grace, your hand feeling completely natural sat in his. The way his encompassed yours was something that will be etched into your brain for the rest of the day, and for the days after that. It isn’t a light hold either, it’s a prominent one, and his fingers squeeze yours tightly. You drop your eyes to your plate, unable to look up at him because you’re unsure of what his features may hold.

You don’t say anything over the dinner, you just listen to their words. It’s all about Harry’s time in London, like it usually was, and the rest about what the two had been up too. Your mother asks the dreaded question, and yet again, you ignore any word that comes out of their mouths.

It was inevitable at this point that Harry and Lizzie, at some point, were going to marry each other. You were surprised that Harry hadn’t proposed yet, if you were honest. If soulmates were a thing, no matter how much it pained you to believe, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were the example. You wouldn’t ever say anything to anyone about this, but you do think a part of you wished that was you in her place. You wished that you were the one that he smiled at, held hands with, kissed upon the cheek as she left.

After the dinner had finished, you had returned up to your room and lit your candle, leaning against the window frame to peer outside. They stood by the gate, Harry’s hand holding hers and her hand holding is. They looked as though they truly loved each other and what you expected to be a measly kiss on the cheek like it usually was, wasn’t that at all. A little part of you died inside when you saw him lean forward and place a kiss upon her lips, his hand lifting up to rest against her cheek. You managed to draw yourself away from the window after you’d watched for a while or so, slipping under your sheets and into your linen, turning so that you’re facing the wall. A few minutes or so later, you hear the door open and the rustling of clothes and you suspect Lizzie gets ready for bed. You try not cry but you can already feel the tears starting to fall down your face.

“YN.” You hear the soft whisper of your voice over the crackle of the candle that was still on in the room, “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” You manage out through the hesitation within your voice.

After a few seconds, and a slight giggles escaping her lips, “He kissed me, YN.”

“Oh.” You try not to sound like you’re upset, “Are you going to marry him?”

“He hasn’t asked me.” She’s quick to say, “But I think he might.”

A month or so later, you’re stood in front of a carriage, one that sits Lizzie inside on her way to Etiquette Lessons. Every young lady in the village had to go to them when they reached a certain age to make sure that they are properly prepared for how to look after their husbands when the day comes. You weren’t quite at the age yet, but Lizzie was.

You had given her a hug, and watched your mother kiss her cheeks and hug her, but you now found yourself watching something that you had seen so many times now. Harry and Lizzie stood by the door of the open carriage, her hands in his as they whisper and chuckle at whatever they’re talking about. You can’t hear what they say, but you can tell it’s emotional from the tears that are running down his face.

You mother wraps her arm around your shoulder, squeezing your shoulder. You wondered if she knew. You hadn’t said anything to her, but she always seemed to know what was going on in your life even if you hadn’t told her anything.

Harry helped Lizzie into the carriage, and closed the door for her before coming to stand next to you. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him for a second, but he didn’t even look anywhere near you, he was watching the carriage as it left. The love of his life was leaving in it, so I’m not surprised he did so.

“Mother.” You say quickly once the carriage had turn off the path, “Can I return and paint?”

“Of course you can.” She places a hand on one of your cheeks and a kiss to the other, “Take Harry with you. He’ll need the company.”

You turn to look at him, and he just shrugs, so you nod. You return back to the house with Harry trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. The way his eyes seemed to droop, as well as his hair, all hinted to the fact that he was actually upset that she was leaving. He follows you into the room, and sits on the end of Lizzie’s bed whilst you pulled your paints out of your drawer.

“I’ve only been in here once before.” He says after a few seconds, running his hand over the linen of her sheets, “You were out. Something about Aunt Jemima.”

“Oh.” You start to face place some of your paints upon your palette, “I read to her, sometimes, and she pays me so I can buy paints. I’m hoping that one day she’ll take me to Europe with her.”

“Europe?” He asks, “You want to go?”

“More than anything.” You sigh, swirling your brush in the green paint you had just placed upon your palette, “More specifically I’m hoping she takes me France. I’ll be able properly practice my art then.”

“Can you not do that here?”

You hesitate for a second, hovering your brush over the canvas slightly, “I’ll be better suited if I go there. People will care more about my work.”

“It’s beautiful work.” He says after a few seconds, “I don’t know how France would change that.”

You think for a second about how to explain this to him, “Think of it like Etiquette school. The girls go and return as better wives than if they hadn’t gone. They would’ve been good wives, but not as good without the school.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“My art is good without France, just like the wives are without Etiquette class, but they are better with it. My art will be better with France.”

You turn around to see him nod his head, “I think I understand.”

“A part of it is also me wanting to leave this town.” You say, turning back around so that you can place your paintbrush back upon your canvas.

“I cannot fault you for that.” He says, and you turn to him again, only to see that he’s laid back upon the bed, a hand over his eyes, “Sometimes I wish I could leave.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, “If one of us had the beings necessary to leave it would be you?”

“Beings necessary?” He pushes himself up on his elbow so that he’s looking directly at you, “And what would be those necessary beings?”

“Money, for one.” You say, moving so that you’re sat on your bed, looking straight at him, “Carriages. Knowledge of the world. The furthest I’ve ever gone is the neighbouring town and that was to drop something off for my mother.”

“Why don’t you leave then?”

You chuckle, raising your eyebrows, “I plan on it.”

“Ice Skating.” Harry says as he walks through your bedroom door, holding two pairs of ice skates in your hands.

“Harry!” You exclaim, placing your hand upon your chest at the shocked sight of him, “I could’ve been indecent and you would have never known!”

“But you aren’t.” He tips his head to the side, “Ice Skating. We’re going ice skating. The lake has frozen over and it’s perfect.”

“Are we now?” You ask, placing your palette down upon the table next to your easel, “Is Mr. Styles bored of his mansion.”

“I’m going to loose my mind.” He drops down on your sisters bed, the skates clattering to the floor as he does so, “Please come ice skating with me.”

“Harry.” You sigh, pulling your painting apron off, “I don’t even know how to ice skate.”

“Then I will teach you.” He says.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you nod your head, “I’ll do it if you let me paint you.”

“Deal.”

Over the past two weeks you and Harry had grown close. Not as close as Harry and your sister, but close enough for you to class him as one of your good friends. The two of you had started to do everything together, similarly to him and Lizzie but with some barriers. You hugged each other but you certainly weren’t as touchy deeply as they were with each other. You couldn’t do it to your sister, so you avoided doing anything that would be seen as wrong.

You did feel sorry for Harry. He had told you that he had sent three letters to Lizzie during this time and she hadn’t even replied to one. You weren’t quite sure why, but that was quite despicable on her part. The poor man was making himself sick with how much he was worrying about her, and you were the one who had seen it, and been the one to try and get him out of it. One of the things that you had begged him to let you do was paint him, but he kept rejecting your proposal. Instead, he told you that he liked to enjoy watching you paint rather than having you paint him.

You were excited to say the least that he had agreed to let you paint him, and you certainly weren’t going to miss that opportunity.

“Slow down.” You call to Harry, who’s around ten strides a head of you as you waddle your way with your dress in your hands through the snow, “I can’t keep up with you.”

“Walk faster then.” He says, turning to look at you with a grin across his face.

You groan and try to pick up the pace, nearly slipping a few times on some particularly icy parts of the ground but you make it to the lake in once piece. Harry passes you the skates he had picked up for you and you thank him for passing them to you. You kick your shoes off and fasten the skates, just as he does the same.

“Stay away from the middle.” He says, “It’s thinner than the edge.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” You say as you try to stable yourself on the blades, “I have not idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s like walking, but on ice.” He deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I’ll let you hold my hand if you want.”

He holds his hand out and without really thinking you place your hand in his, allowing him to guide you onto the ice. His hand was cold, but so was yours, but having his in yours sent little flames across the entirety of your body.

At first you were unsteady on your feet, and you’re sure that you could’ve nearly broke Harry’s hand with how tightly you were squeezing it. He chuckled and made sure that you were continuously upright. After five minutes or so, you found the swing of what you were doing, and managed to move forward without any wobbles.

“I’m letting go of you.”

“No!” You exclaim, gripping his hand tighter so that he wouldn’t be able to pull away from you, “I’ll fall.”

“You won’t fall.” He chuckles, trying to pull his hand away again. “I will.” You shake your head, “Please, don’t.”

“You’re not going to fall.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

He somehow manages to release his hand from yours and skate backwards away from you, leaving you on your own. You hold your hands out, straightening them as though that’s going to help balance you out. With the little momentum you had left, you moved forward slightly until you came to a halt, where you pick up one of your feet to push forward and move forward. You manage to do it, without falling which surprises you.

“Harry!” You exclaimed, beaming at him, “I’m doing it.”

“I told you that you would.” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You smile, and the two of you continue off across the ice.

Everything seems to be going well and good until you manage to catch your blade in a slit in the ice and go tumbling forward, going over on your ankle as you do so. You drop to the ground with a thud, a throbbing immediately falling upon your ankle.

“Harry. . .” His name escapes your lips through the the hiss of pain you let out.

“Are you injured?” He’s quick to ask, skating over to you as quickly as he possible could.

“My ankle.” You say, “I think I’ve sprained it.”

“You probably have.” He’s quick to say, “Lift up slightly, I’ll carry you back home.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“What are you going to?” He laughs, “Crawl?”

“I might.”

“You wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.” He bends down, “Come here.”

You lift your hand up and wrap your hands around his neck, allowing him to place his hands underneath your knees. He looks at you with a small smile on his face and skates back to the edge of the lake, placing you on the floor for a second so that you could both remove your skates.

“How did you get so good at skating?” You ask, returning to your prior position his arms.

“Home.” He says, “In England. It’s cold year round there, and the lakes are often frozen. My mother taught me.”

“You don’t talk about you mother.”

“She died when I was young.” He says, not looking at you the way that he had been, “I don’t remember a lot about her.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head, “You were merely curious.”

You drop your eyes to the white around the two of you, “My mother says that my curiosity may get me in trouble one of these days.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckles, “But that’s something that makes you, you.”

Without really thinking, you say the next few words, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t me.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You nod your head, “There’s nothing special about me. I’m no Lizzie YLN.”

“No.” He shakes his head, “You aren’t Lizzie, but you are YN. This world doesn’t need anymore Lizzie’s in it.”

“I thought maybe you’d have a thousands Lizzie’s if you could.”

“I wouldn’t need a thousand if I could have the one.”

“You do have you.”

He shakes his head, “I told her before she went that there was no need for Etiquette classes because to be my wife all I wanted was her. Lizzie wanted to go to get the best experience she possibly could.”

“You respected that?”

He looks directly over you again, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“We all know what actually happens at Etiquette classes, Harry.”

Harry only nods his head once, not saying anything else. He still carries you home, one of his arms rested comfortable under his knee whilst the other rests behind your back. You hoped you hadn’t offended him, but there was no way for you to know.

Etiquette classes, as a whole, were to teach young women the proper ways of being a wife during the day, and through the night thy would attend balls and such. The balls were so the women could hopefully meet eligible, rich men who they were hopefully going to marry. If you were already meant to marry someone else, it didn’t seem like a right thing to go to this place where the people were always after one thing.

As your feelings grew for Harry, you wondered whether Lizzie’s had diminished and that was why she decided to go to the classes. You certainly shouldn’t want that, but you couldn’t lie and say that a part of you did.

“Mrs. YLN?” You mother comes running towards the two of you at Harry’s call of her name, “We’ve had a little accident.”

“What have you done now?”

“I went over on my ankle.” You deadpan.

“Harry will you get me some ice?” He nodded and moved towards the kitchen whilst you mother freed your ankle and rested it upon her knee.

He came back with ice wrapped in a cloth and passed it to your mother who placed it upon your ankle.

“Thank you for bringing her home, Harry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for the offer, though. But I should be returning home.”

“Pass my love onto your father.”

“I will.”

He throws you once last look, one that you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion of. After a few seconds he drops his eyes, and walks out of the door without looking back. You turn to look at your mother, who’s got a skeptical look upon her face as she looks at you.

“What is it?”

“Does he know?”

“Does he know what?”

A small smile crosses her lips, “That you love him.”

You lips part in shock before you clamp them shut, “I. . . I feel no such thing.”

“You had just lied to me, child.” She shakes her head, “I know love when I see it.”

“Mother.” You shake your head, “He loves Lizzie.”

“I know.” She places her hand upon your cheek, “You’ll be the one to pick up the pieces when she breaks his heart.”

Lizzie was due to return home today, on Christmas Eve of all days, and the house certainly looked as though it was ready for her.

You, your mother and Harry had spent quite a while this year decorating the house to be as Christmassy as possible. The thing that you still think about to this day was jumping on Harry’s back so he could lift you up to reach the star, your mother smiling as she watched the two of you.

The carriage returned at around midday. You were stood next to Harry at the end of the garden, with you mother next to him. The carriage came to a halt and the driver was the one to open the door, Lizzie immediately tumbling out and throwing her arms around your mother who had taken a few steps forward.

She didn’t look like Lizzie, in your opinion. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the dress upon her body looking more expensive than the ones that she had gone with. The material was a blushed pink colour, with fancy detailing upon the corset and a puffy skirt that was one of the biggest that you had ever seen in your life. Lizzie looks happy to see your mother to say the least, but you’re quite surprised when she moves to you next instead of Harry.

“Hello!” She throws her arms around your shoulder, placing her head on your shoulder whilst you placed yours on hers, the material of her fancy coat hitting your cheek. You hadn’t seen anything quite like it before, never mind felt anything quite like it before, “I’ve missed you so much. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” You pull away. clearing your throat and wiping your hands upon your skirt slightly, “The same old. It’s you who I should be asking that question to.”

She smiles and pulls away, holding her small bag close to herself as she looks at the person stood next to you. Harry looks as though he’s about to cry, and so does Lizzie if you’re being brutally honest. The two of them needed to be alone, and you understood that. When your mother motioned you to follow her back into the house, you didn’t hesitate with your movements, following her back into the house.

“I feel as though dinner might be late tonight.” You mother says as she closes the door behind you, fumbling to take off her scarf, “I feel like they might be out there for a while. Why don’t you go up and finish your painting?”

You nod your head, not wanting to say anything. You remove your outdoor gear and race up the stairs. You know you shouldn’t, but you immediately run to the window to see whether you can see the two of them, but you’re unable to.

Lizzie looked like a different person, but she sounded like Lizzie when she opened her mouth. The clothes that she wore might have changed but she was still your sister, the same sister who had the man you loved following her around like a lost puppy. Lizzie was the same Lizzie as she always had been, and that meant that she probably did feel the same way about Harry as she did before she left. There was a selfish streak in you that wished that wasn’t the case, and she had completely forgot about her feelings for Harry and had met someone else, but until you properly had a conversation with the girl, you couldn’t be too sure that was the case. You couldn’t be sure either that if that had happened, Harry would want you in that way.

You found yourself unable to paint, so you dropped down upon your bed and sat with your back against the wall, watching the outside world as your thoughts danced around within your head. You found the thoughts spiralling through your head that you were still a young woman at the end of the day, one who could have a line of men wanting to marry you but you instead found yourself second best to your sister, and that shouldn’t be happening. No matter how much you loved the man, or had grown to be accustomed to his company, being second best wasn’t something that you had set your heart on being, and you wouldn’t be for him.

You were the first YLN he had met, yet he had chosen your sister first and he was going to lay in that bed now.

“YN!” You mother called from downstairs, “They’re here.”

Christmas Eve dinner, to say the least, was one that you’d never forget. Harry looked as though he was either going to burst out crying or kill someone at any moment, Lizzie looked exhausted and your mother and yourself were sat in the middle of the two of you trying to make ends meet of what had happened. Harry’s eyes caught yours once, but he was quick to flutter them away and take another forkful of vegetables and place it in his mouth.

“Lizzie, you haven’t told YN and I anything about your time away.” Your mother started, probably not the best topic of conversation but one that would split up the silence hopefully, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” She wipes her mouth upon her napkin, “I had an amazing time. Met some amazing people. Actually, there is one person that I’ve invited for you to meet for the new year.”

“You have?” Your mother raises her eyebrow, “How wonderful.”

“His name is Theodore.”

That’s all it takes for Harry’s fork to clatter to the plate, his chair screech across the floor and his body to stand up.

“I’m, uh, truly sorry Mrs. YLN.” He says, “The meal was lovely but I’m not feeling very well so I think it’s best that I go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” He nods his head, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, “So sorry again, have an amazing Christmas.”

“You too, Harry.”

Once the doors closed, Lizzie’s the next person to drop her cutlery and sulk off upstairs. The slamming of the bedroom door shakes the whole house. You place another bit of potato into your mouth and slowly chew whilst looking at your mother.

She sighs, “Will you go check on your sister for me?”

“But—”

“You’ll get to see him later, don’t worry.” She says, “I’m going to plate him and his father some food. God knows they won’t eat without it, and you can take it over for me.”

You nod your head, taking a sip from your glass of water before standing up and making your way upstairs. You cam hear Lizzie’s cries before you open the door, and you know that its because of what had obviously happened before the two of them had come to lunch. You push the door open, to see her laid on her bed face down, her head deep within her pillow. You push the door closed behind you and back up until your back is directly placed upon the solid wood.

“Are you engaged to him?” You say, looking down at your shoes so that you don’t have to make eye contact with her.

You can hear the bed creek beneath her as she moves, but you still don’t look up, “To who?”

“To Theodore.”

“No.” You lift your eyes up just as she shakes her head, “I’m not.”

“But you want to be.”

“What makes you think that?”

You scoff and shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, “You forget that I’m your sister, Lizzie. I know you better than you know yourself.”

After a few seconds, she speaks again, “He’s going to propose.”

“He is?” You take a few steps forward until you’re sat upon your bed, directly across from her, “Why, Lizzie?”

“We’re in love.” She quickly says, her eyes bulging out the way that they do when she starts to get upset, “When you’re in love, you get married YN.”

“I thought you were in love with Harry.”

“I love Harry.” She says, shaking her head, “But I’m not in love with him. I love him as a best friend.”

“He loves you.”

“I know.” She shakes her head, “I just didn’t love him the way I love Theodore. He’s just so kind, and so gentle and he makes me feel things that I just haven’t felt before.”

The way that she stands up immediately makes your mind immediately fall to a place that you know isn’t where it should be. Your eyes widen and she looks at you the exact way that you know that what you thought is right.

“Lizzie.” You voice comes out as a whisper, and you shake your head, “You didn’t.”

“I love him, YN.” She shakes her head, “And he loves me.”

“We always said we’d save that until marriage.” You shake your head, “You told me that’s what you have to do.”

She sits down on the bed next to you, reaching so that her hands are placed upon both of your shoulders, “And you do. Promise me you will, YN.”

“I will.” You quickly say, “I promise, I will.”

“Good.” She sighs, dropping her hands from your shoulders, “You will not end up like me, I won’t let you.”

“How have you ended up?”

She looks at you with tears in her eyes, “I think I’m pregnant, YN.”

You were holding a basket of food that your mother had collated for Harry and his father. You had knocked upon the door once and now you were stood, waiting for someone to open the door and let you in from the cold. The temperature had certainly dropped since you had been outside earlier, but you weren’t surprised at that fact.

“Miss. YLN.” Harry’s father opens the door. You’ve only ever met him once, and from what Harry has told you, he’s quite a cold man, “May I ask why you’re here?”

“Uh, my mother sent you and Harry some food over.” You say, holding up the basket within your hands, “I just came to deliver it.”

“Please.” He says, “Come in.”

You step through the threshold of the house, entering one that was three times the size of your own but just as empty as yours.

“I’ll take that to the kitchen for you.” He says, holding his hands out so you can place the basket within them, “H is upstairs, in the library. Third door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

The stairs themselves were probably bigger than your entire house, and as you ran your hand across the wood of the banister you couldn’t believe how expensive it felt beneath your fingers. You followed Mr. Styles’ instruction and walked along the grand hallway until you found the third door on the left. It was slightly ajar, so you placed your hand upon the wood and push it open, the door creaking as you did so.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of the room in front of you. When Mr. Styles said Library you thought it may have been a small room with bookshelves in it, but it wasn’t, it was a full library at the most. It was full of the most books you’ve ever seen anywhere, floor to ceiling bookshelves. You couldn’t help your want to run your fingers across every single cover.

You spot Harry sat at the window, his knees bent and a book placed open upon them. You cross your hands in front of you, taking a few steps towards Harry. The sound of your shoes against the wooden floor notifies Harry that you’re there, and he lifts his eyes to look at you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, closing the book that he had open.

You take a few more steps towards him, sitting at the opposite side of windowsill to him, “I should be asking you that question.”

He chuckles, lifting his leg up again so that it’s on the windowsill, “I’m okay.”

“I don’t believe that.” You shake your head, coping him so your feet are up also and you’re facing him, “Tell me truthfully. How are you?”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes down to his knees, “She doesn’t want to marry me.”

“You asked?”

“Today.” He nods, looking back at you again, “I had a ring.”

After a few seconds you whisper, “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“The ring.”

He opens his jacket and fumbles around in the inside pocket, bringing out a small blue velvet box which he throws towards you. You catch it, nearly dropping it but you manage to keep it in your hands. You raise your eyebrow at him and he offers a small smile, one that you knew wasn’t the most truthful of how he’s feeling.

You open the box and see a beautiful ring in the box. The ring itself was silver, but the thing that drew your and probably Harry to it was the gem. It looked to be diamond, not a large one at that but one that was a lovely sized. The light from the window caused the diamond to glimmer slightly, a gasp escaping from your lips.

“Harry.” You shake your head, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought so too.” He says, running his thumb across his bottom lip before shrugging his shoulders, “Lizzie didn’t think so.”

“It’s not because of you, Harry.” You quickly say, “Nothing to do with you.”

“It must’ve been, YN.” He says, “You’re sister doesn’t want to marry me. Me! Not anyone else.”

“She can’t marry you, Harry.” You say, the tears starting to collect in your eyes, “I don’t know whether if situations were different she would marry you, but in this situation it isn’t your fault. I can promise you that.”

You watch a tear fall down is cheek, “Has she met someone else?”

You look away, pursing your lips and closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Is it Theodore? Is she engaged to him?”

“She will be.” You say, standing up and moving so that you’re in front of him, placing your hand upon his knee, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“She’s my sister.”

“You’re not in charge of her.”

You reach forward and place your hand upon his cheek, using your thumb to delicately wipe the next year that falls out of his eye. His tilts his head slightly so that it’s nicely rested within your hand, and you smile at him, which his returns.

“Did she ever love me?”

“She did.” You say, nodding your head, “She loves you. She’s just not in love with you.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think anything will at this point. You just need to wait, time will heal. I’ll be here for you.”

“I think.” He says, dropping his knees so that he can move closer to you, “I think you might be able to.”

“Whatever you need, H.” You say.

He moves closer, you can feel him closer to you, but you certainly hadn’t expected for him to place his lips upon yours. The kiss at first in gentle, his lips pressed against yours so gently that at the start you couldn’t quite feel him upon you. Then it’s more urgent, with his hand placed upon your cheek, his lips moving against yours at a quick pace.

“H.” You whisper, pulling away slightly as he removes his lips from yours, using them to dance down your cheek, to your jaw and then resting against the skin of your neck.

He removed his hand from your cheek and hooking it underneath your thigh so he can manoeuvre you to be on his lap.

This is the first time you’ve ever kissed a boy, and you can’t believe that the boy of all people is Harry Styles. You hadn’t been this close to anyone before, straddled across his lap with your knees each side of his waist, your skirt bunched up at your waist. The second you were comfortable, his lips attached to your again, his hands rested upon the small of your back. A feeling brewed within you, causing your hips to involuntary buck towards his. You felt him smile against your lips, and that was when you snapped out of the daze that you were in.

Without really thinking, you pulled away and clambered off of his lap. He looked flushed as you pulled away, his hair a little messy and his lips red from the kissing.

“No.” You hold your hand out at him, shaking your head, “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He said, standing up and taking a few steps towards you.

“Because. . . because you just can’t.” You shake your head, lifting your hands to run through your hair.

“I thought.” He looks at you quizzically, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Maybe I did, a little bit.” You say, shaking your head, “But you didn’t want it to be me. You wanted it to be Lizzie.”

“No.” He shakes his head, holding his hand out as if to touch yours, “I didn’t want that.”

“You did, I know you Harry, and you did.” You sniffle slightly, shaking your head, “I’m not Lizzie and I’ll never be Lizzie, and I’ve accepted that. You’ll never love me like you love Lizzie, and I know that. But, Harry, I won’t be second best. I don’t deserve to be second best.”

“You aren’t second best, YN!”

You can’t help but let out a small sob at his words, “I am, Harry. From the first day that we met each other, Lizzie came first. She was the one who you couldn’t bore your eyes away from, not me. I don’t think I had a full conversation with you until Lizzie left for her classes.”

“That’s not true, YN.” He shakes his head, “I swear to you, it isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You take a few steps back, “I won’t be second best.”

With that you turn away, leaving the house and leaving Harry. You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you walked across to your house.

You had made the decision that day that you weren’t to stay in America, that you were going to leave and you knew that Aunt Jemima was the person you knew would be able to help you with that.

Your Aunt Jemima was getting older, but before she died she wanted to go to Europe on last time, more specifically France. She had asked you years ago to be her companion on the trip, and you had agreed, but that was the last time you’d ever spoken to her about it. On Christmas day, you had been the one to bring the idea back up in conversation, dropping in little hints until Aunt Jemima picked up what you were saying. She had been the one to say that in the new year you were going and that you had to be ready to leave on January second with no complaints, not that you had any anywhere.

When Aunt Jemima’s carriage came, you said your farewell’s to your mother and you sister, and Theodore who had proposed to your sister the day prior — and left. As you sat in the carriage, you couldn’t help but look at Harry’s house, and you weren’t shocked to see him at the window watching your every move. You didn’t look away from the window until you could no longer see the house, when you turned to look straight in front of your, your gloved hands resting upon your knee.

“Forget him.” Aunt Jemima says, sighing slightly and shaking her head, “He isn’t right for you.”

“I have no idea what you are on about.” You shake your head, looking out of the small carriage window so that you don’t have to look at your Aunt.

“That Styles boy.” She says, and you immediately snap your eyes towards her, “Don’t think I don’t know about the two of you.”

“There isn’t anything to know.” You shake your head at her.

“There obviously is.” She says, “Or you wouldn’t be sulking the way that you are.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“I haven’t brought a liar with me have I ?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

“You haven’t.” She shakes her head, “I am sulking, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” She says, pursing her lips, “Are you going to tell me about him, then?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re about to cry, my dear.” She flutters her eyes to you slightly, “I could sense your heartbreak from a mile away. He’s the reason you wanted to come, isn’t he?”

“I wanted to come.” You say, messing with your fingers that sat on your lap, “He just. . . gave me a reason to finally do it.”

“I think he’s the idiot in this situation.” She says after a few seconds and your lips part in shock, before you clamp them back together, “He’s the one who got involved with you and your sister. I wonder if he can even get out of bed.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well. First of all your sister broke his heart by not marrying him and marrying that other man, I’ve already forgotten his name.” She shakes her head, “Then you broke his heart by doing whatever you did when you went to go see him on Christmas Eve and you’ve been depressed ever since you left.”

“Who told you that?”

“Who do you think?” Aunt Jemima clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “My daughter told me. Wouldn’t stop crying saying that you’re leaving the love of your life and her other daughters pregnant by some pretentious nobody.”

You run your hand over your forehead, scrunching your face at the fact that everyone knew, “My mother knows too much.”

“Your mother just knows you.” Aunt Jemima shakes her head, “At least you haven’t ruined your life before it’s even begun, with a child of all things.”

“You’re just saying that because you never had children.”

“Why would I want an offspring of myself and some other man?”

“It’s about love, Aunt Jemima.” You can tell that you’re about to cry, so again you turn your head, “When you love someone, that’s something to bring that love into a being.”

“I just don’t see why.” She says, curling up her nose, “But then again, that’s why I’m seventy, unmarried and childless. Don’t think about the Styles boy too much. You’re going to a different country for heavens sake, think of all of the people that you’ll meet whilst you’re there. You’ll forget him soon, my dear, and he’ll forget you. That’s what we’ll hope for anyway.”

The tears do start to fall now, in quick streams down down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. Aunt Jemima, no matter how much you despised her sometimes, she certainly knew what she was talking about. You turned your head so that you were looking away from your aunt, looking out of the window and trying your hardest not to let any sobs fall out of your lips.

You did love Harry and if he had stopped your from getting into the carriage, your probably would. If he had asked to marry you, you probably would have said yes without any hesitation but at the same time you also felt as though you were second best, and that wasn’t a place that you ever thought you’d be.

No matter how much you loved him, and yearned to be with him, you knew for the sake of your sanity and for the sake of staying as a strong independent woman. You were taught from being young from your mother that no matter how many people try to say that all you were worth is more than just being the wife of some rich man. Your mother also said that you had a talent and that you had to use it.

France was going to be the place that you were going to use your talents, and be a better person for doing so.

Four Years Later

“Pierre.” You say, smiling at the man as he held his hand out to you, “Puis-je vous demander ce que vous faites?” May I ask what you’re doing?

“Je demande à la plus belle fille de la pièce de danser.” You can’t help the blush that falls across your cheeks. You nod your head and slip your hand into his, standing up and following him into the middle of the dance floor. I’m asking the most beautiful girl in the room to dance.

The music changes around them to one of the most popular songs in Paris to dance to. He lifts his arm up, just as you do to his, and start the movements in the same way that everyone else in the room had.

You had arrived in France with Aunt Jemima four years ago, fresh faced after the journey and ready to start your new life there. At first it took a while for you to get used to the new life that you now lived. Aunt Jemima’s French house, if it was even possible, was bigger that her house back home with more nooks and crannies to explore but more importantly, a bigger garden that you could paint every corner of. The main thing that you focused on during the first few months of your arrival was settling in and learning the language which you knew would be hard, but it was something that you needed to do.

Pierre was the person who had helped you do that.

Aunt Jemima had hired him to be your French tutor. She said that he was one of the best for you, and that he certainly was. You learnt the basics within the first few months until you were able to finally communicate with the people around you in their native language. At first, you despised Pierre and his pretentious way of making you feel small, but here you were, fours years later, dancing with him and waiting for his proposal at some point.

Aunt Jemima would be turning within her grave if she knew you were planning to marry Pierre. Even though she hired him when you first arrived to teach you, but she found him incompetent to do anything else. She could tell that you were falling for him, and told you multiple times to not settle for him but you were ignoring her.

If you listened to every one who your Aunt Jemima told you to not settle for, you’d never marry at all.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He asks, in English this time, his accent seeping through with every word that he spoke.

“Plans?” You raise your eyebrow, “To paint, yes, but I suppose I can clear my schedule.”

After learning the French language, that was when you had started your painting classes. You started taking everything in, listening to every single word the teacher said to you until you were good enough to start on your own. The first time one of your pieces was shown in an exhibit, people loved it, and you found yourself creating more and more works and creating more and more links with people around.

“Do.” He says, nodding his head, “Je veux t’emmener quelque part. Quelque part spécial.” I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere special.

You bite your lip, nodding your head whilst trying to suppress the large smile that’s ready to cross your entire face.

Pierre was a hopeless romantic, always showering you in large gestures that caused your heart to flutter within your chest. He hadn’t kissed you, and even though you knew that you knew deep down that you shouldn’t compare it, you found yourself not feeling the way that you did the last time you found yourself with a man.

At twenty-three you were late to get married, and if you ever wanted kids you would have to do so quicker than anything you had ever done in your life because you knew that your days were going to start become numbered.

“What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

The song ends, your courtesy and he bows and that’s when you walk back towards the table you were sat at, picking up your glass of Champagne and taking a sip.

“YN.” You stop drinking immediately, nearly choking on the liquid that you had already started to sip. You know that voice anywhere, etched into your brain from when you were just a mere eighteen year old with a heart twice the size of the one you had now, “As I live and breathe.”

You turn around, immediately seeing a man that you had left years ago stood in front of you. He looked exactly the same as when you knew him all those years ago, except his features were a tad harder and his hair curler that it was before if it was even possible which you weren’t too sure about.

“Harry.” You swallow the lump in your throat, placing your glass down on the table and turning so that you were facing him, “It’s been a while.”

“It certainly has.” He says, lifting his own glass to his lips, “You look good. Happy.”

“I am.” You nod your head. You look at him, his eyes emptier that you had ever seen them before, not even when Lizzie refused to marry him, “I wish I could say the same for you, but. . .”

“I look exhausted.”

“You do.” You say, watching as his lips curled up into a smile as do yours, “How are you? Genuinely.”

“I’m. . .”

“Ma chérie.” You feel an arm slip around your waist, rest upon the small of it as he stands next to you, “Qui est-ce?” My darling. Who is this?

“Ah.” You brush a piece of your hair that had fallen out of place away from your face, “Pierre, this is Harry. Harry this is Pierre.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, lifting the glass to his lips to drink the rest of it. As you watch, it doesn’t seem to even hits the sides with how quickly he drinks it.

“Bonjour.” Pierre holds his hand out to Harry, “Comment allez vous?”

Harry looks at Pierre’s hand but he doesn’t shake it, and that’s when you lift your fingers to run against your forehead, “Are you two, marié?” Married.

“No.” You shake your head, stepping to the side slightly so that Pierre’s hand isn’t upon your waist anymore, “We are. . .”

“Courting.” Pierre’s quick to interject, “I think that’s what to call it.”

You watch as Harry’s eyebrows raise, and without saying anything to the two of you, he turns around and mutters, “I need another drink.”

As he walks away, you can see the slight stagger in his walk, one that many intoxicated people hold and you know that him being not himself treads deeper than just seeing you there today.

“YN.” Pierre places a hand upon your shoulder, “How do you know that man?”

“He’s someone from home.” You say, watching as Harry drinks another full glass of Champagne where he’s staggered off to, “He’s an old friend.”

He leans down until you can feel his breath at your ear, “Just a friend.”

You nod, leaning into him as he places a kiss to your neck, “Bien.” Good.

Since Pierre wasn’t picking you up until eleven, you decide that you have the time to at least start your next painting. In the garden of your Aunts house that you had inherited, you had built a gazebo with the money that you had made from selling your art pieces to exhibits that overlooked the garden and the pond from the four different directions that it had around it.

You had decided that the swans that swum in the pond were looking particularly delightful today and you decide that is the direction that you want to start your painting. You set up your easel and your canvas, as well as your paints that you brought on a palette and start figuring out the dimensions of the painting and what you wanted it to look like.

You hold up your paintbrush, closing one of your eyes as you move it from portrait to landscape and back again.

“You always were a perfectionist.” The paintbrush in your hand clatters you the ground as it slips through your fingers, due to you jumping. You weren’t expecting anyone to be here, and you certainly weren’t expecting to hear his voice.

“And you always had a tendency to shock people.” He laughs, his dress shoes hitting the decking with loud pats.

“My apologies.” He says, slipping one of his hands into the pocket of his trousers, taking another step closer to you, “I didn’t mean to shock you, love.”

You place your palette down, brushing your hands off slightly on your apron. You’d usually wear your comfortable clothes to paint in, the attire usually not even being a skirt but often trousers, but because you were meeting Pierre later, you knew that you had to dress up. It wasn’t the fanciest dress you owned, but the light blue material complimented your features in a way that you just couldn’t resist when you saw it in the shop.

“Yes you did.” You lips curl up into a smile, “You forget that I know you Harry, even after all these years.”

“Lots of things can change in four years, YN.”

“You haven’t.”

“You haven’t, either.” He smiles.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and take a step closer to him, clearing your throat slightly as you do so, “I want to apologise for last night. Pierre can be a little. . .”

“Intrusive.” Harry leans against the pillar nearest to him and you nod, knowing that is exactly what he is.

“I’m very sorry. I would have loved to have caught up with you.”

“I probably wouldn’t have been in the best frame of mind to do so.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “I was drunk, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I could.”

“Now.” He lifts his hand up and motions to the garden around you, “Are you going to tell me what I’ve missed in the last four years?”

“Uh.” You move so you’re stood next to him, leant against the barrier, “I moved with Aunt Jemima. This was her house but she died a year ago, if I remember correctly. She left me the house in her will, and I decided that I wanted to stay.”

“Have you been at home at all during the last four years?”

You nod your head, “I went home when Lizzie got married, that was when I met Anna for the first time. Then I went back for Aunt Jemima’s funeral because she decided she didn’t want to be buried here.”

“I must have missed you.” He says, “I spent a lot of the last four years in England with my grandparents.”

“Lizzie told me.” You say, “She said that she did invite you to the wedding but your father explained that you were in England.”

He nods his head, “I left a few months after you. I think my father was fed up of my moping.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but his words did. Your chest squeezed slightly at his words. Even though you knew you were doing what you were doing to benefit yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t missed him. You had lost a friend when you left, as well as your first love.

“Are you married?” You ask, not really knowing why the words escape from your lips in the way that they do.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up to reveal his completely ring free hand, “Nope. I can’t really say that I’ve been looking.”

“I’m sure you’ve had opportunities.” You say, “You’re the perfect gentlemen, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had women queuing to marry you.”

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “People have tried but I haven’t been interested.”

“Why not?”

“Some may say that I’m still hung up on somebody.” His eyes flutter away from yours, and you take it as the opportunity to look down at your hands, “But that doesn’t matter. What about you and Mr. Intrusive.”

You chuckle, lifting your eyes up to look at his, “He was my French language teacher. I didn’t like him, despised him to be fair but here were are a few years later and I think he’s going to propose to me later today.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

If you were asked this question but anybody else, you probably would have immediately said yes and that was enough for you to know that you should marry him. But seeing Harry stood there, the way that he is, waiting for you to answer what should be one of the easiest questions ever, reminds you that this may have gotten a lot more confusing now with Harry’s reappearance.

“I. . .” You hesitate and drop your eyes down to the ground again, “I think so.”

“You think?” He says, “I can’t say that I believe that you do if you only think that you want to marry him.”

“I do.” You say, quickly.

Harry stands up and takes a few steps towards the opposite end of the gazebo, “Do you love him?”

This answer, so it should be another one, was easy to answer, “No.”

“Then why are you marrying him.”

“I’m twenty-three, Harry.” You say, your heels tapping the wood as you move to stand next to him, looking at the pond in front of you, “I’m certainly not getting any younger. If I returned home to mother and father without a husband and children I believe they would disown me.”

“They wouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “They love you too much.”

“I’ve had three letters from them asking about grandchildren.” You deadpan, looking at him with a stoic look on their face.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t want to marry someone who you don’t love.” He says.

“If I don’t marry Pierre, who will I marry?”

After a few seconds, the smallest whispers escapes his lips, “You could marry me.”

The whole world seems to slow down around you, and you turn to look at him. He’s already looking at you, with those green eyes that you became so accustomed to all those years ago. You knew each other in all for three months, but you spent every second of every day with each other when Lizzie was away, and it certainly showed with how close you became. Marrying Harry could be the thing that you need, have always needed. You haven’t been as happy as you were when you were back him with him in a long time.

“Harry.” You say, the words coming out in a small whisper, “You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” He says, quickly to say the least, “I haven’t been more sure about anything in my life before.”

“Harry—”

“Madame.” One of the groundskeepers say, walking towards the two of you, “Monsieur Perney est là.” Mr. Perney is here.

“Merci, Alfred.” You clear your throat to try and mask the uncertainty in your voice, “Ça ne prendra qu’un seconde.” Thank you, Alfred. I will only be a second.

The man nods and walks away, and you turn back to look at Harry, who has the same look on his face as you do on yours. There’s a level of defeat between the two of you.

“I need to, um, go meet with Pierre.” You say, hands gripping the material of your dress.

“Is that a no?” He takes a step towards you.

You sigh, “It’s a, I have to think about it.”

He nods, “When will you know? This is probably a good time to tell you that I’m leaving tomorrow.”

That changed everything. It wasn’t as though now you had a few days to think through and make your decision, you had to make it quickly before he goes.

“Tomorrow?”

He nods, “Father’s ill. Paris was my last hooray before I go back home to be an adult.”

You take a few moments to think, “Will you be able to return back here this evening?”

“For you? Of course.” He says as though he doesn’t even have to think about it.

You nod your head and take a few steps towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Harry.”

“I’ll see you later, love.”

“C’est une belle journée.” Pierre says as the two of you walk side by side around a park, the spring heat light upon your skin as you do so. It’s a beautiful day.

“It is.” You say, not being able to pull your eyes away from the ground below you.

You knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this at all, that it wasn’t fair to Pierre, but all you could think about was Harry. You couldn’t get the look of his face out of your head as you kissed his cheek and walked away, as though he felt like that was it between the two of you. You were still unsure of the decision that you were going to make, but once you found yourself stood at the top of some steps, looking out at the park below, you knew that you were to make your decision sooner of later.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No.” You shake your head, finally lifting your eyes to look at his, “Everything is swell, thank you.”

“Good.” He takes a step closer so that his fingers are brushing yours, “YN?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time.” He says, and the two of you turn so that you’re facing each other, his hands gripping yours, “A very long time, and I was wondering whether I could ask you something?”

“We have.” You know what the question is before the words have left his lips, and you’re already beginning to prepare yourself for what you’re going to hear the next time he open his lips, “And you can.”

He clears his throat and fumbles within his inside pocket, drawing out what you know is a ring box. He lets go of your hand which he was still holding with his free one and drops down to his knee, using his other hand to open the small box.

“YN YLN.” He sighs, “Ma chérie. Will you marry me?”

The same feeling that you felt before overcomes you, when the whole world around you seems to be moving in slow motion. He looks so happy, his cheeks lifting in a wide grin that you can’t seem to shake from your sight. You can’t even bring yourself to look at the ring he had chosen for you, because it was at that time, seeing him on his knee, that you know what your answer is.

“I’m so sorry, Pierre.” You slip your bottom lip between your teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

“What?” His whole face drops, and guilt starts to wash over you. He immediately stands up, looking at you with wide eyes, “No?”

You shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Pierre.”

“I thought that you wanted to marry me.” He shakes his head, “Comment ai je pu être si stupide?” How could I have been so stupid?

“You haven’t. I promise you, Pierre.” You reach your hand forward to touch his arm, but he moves away from you, not wanting you to touch him you suppose, “I did want to marry you.”

“What has changed?” You look at him with sad eyes, tears threatening to spill and you watch the realisation flutter across his features, “He has.”

You drop your head, lifting your hand to wipe away the tears that had started to spill, “I’m so sorry.”

“Who is he?” His features switch to angry ones next, and his voice deepens and it shocks you to say the least, “You have never mentioned him and now you will not marry me because of him?”

“He’s an old friend from hime, like I said.” You repeat your words from the party last night, “I haven’t seen him since I moved here.”

“Do you love him?” The words are quick to leave his lips and you once again drop your head, in shame if you are completely honest, “Do you? I want to hear you say it?”

“I do.” His hostile tone scared you into answering, “I always have.”

“Did you ever love me?”

You shake your head, the little movement causing him to throw you one of the worst looks you’ve ever seen in your life and stalk away from you. Tears stream down your face, and you know that you probably look the worst you’ve ever looked in your life at this given moment but you couldn’t care less. You thought that you’d feel worse than you do, but you you feel more relieved than anything. You feel bad that you’ve had to break his heart, but the idea of going back home with Harry, seeing your family and saying that he is the man that you’re going to marry was enough for your heart to burst with excitement.

In your opinion, you couldn’t return home quick enough. The second you return to the house you’re fluttering around as quickly as possible, packing all the belongings that you’d need immediately when you returned but you knew that you could get the rest of your belongings shipped in at a later date.

The evening rolled around quicker that you had imagined it would, but you supposed time went quickly when you’re packing to go across the world with the love of your life. When you hear the knock at your door, you race to open it, not caring what people think because all you want is to see him.

You throw the door open, and there he is, stood in the exact same suit that you’d seen him in earlier. He did look tireder then he did earlier, but if you had spent the day worrying you probably would’ve looked worse than he did.

“Come in.” You open the door wider, so that he can step in, “Please.”

He takes a few seconds to look around at the entrance way to the house, his lips parting at the sheer size of it as you did when you first arrived. Aunt Jemima was an odd woman, you couldn’t lie, but she certainly knew how to pick a lovely house. You’d probably sell it now that you were going back to America.

He looked around for a while before he noticed your pile of belongings in the corner, all packed away and ready to leave.

His eyes meet yours and he looks as though he’s going to cry at any given moment, “Really?”

You nod your head, “I want to marry you, Harry. Always have.”

He takes two steps forward and places his lips on yours, his hands falling to your cheeks. It sent you back to four years ago, stood in the library after you’d just kissed him. You couldn’t believe that he was back with you, kissing your lips in the way that you had yearned for him too for so many years.

He pulls away and rests his head upon yours with a sigh, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Ever since that day. I should’ve done more.”

“It was my fault.” You thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “I shouldn’t have left. I should have sulked for a while but gone back to you. I missed you so terribly.”

“I know why you did it.” He says, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I shouldn’t have proposed to your sister when it was you who made me happy. I knew that I shouldn’t have the second I said it, and I’m sorry for that.”

“We’ll start a fresh.” You whisper, resting your forehead upon his, “Forget everything that happened four years ago and start fresh. I love you, Harry. I always have.”

“I love you too.”

You lean forward and place your lips on his again, his hands resting comfortably upon your waist. It felt so familiar for you to be in his arms, his lips upon yours. He was the only person you had ever kissed, and now he’d be the only person that you’d ever kiss, and you certainly weren’t complaining about that.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Harry smiles at you, and you beam up at him before the two of you lean forward and kiss each other. Cheers and applause erupt around the two of you, as well as confetti and flowers being thrown across the two of you as you walk down the aisle.

You had arrived a few months ago from Paris, and immediately thrown into trying to nurse Harry’s father back to health, which didn’t go to plan. It was hard on Harry, but he had you and that was the most important thing to him. His Father gave you his blessing for the marriage, saying that it was the best thing he’d heard in a while. The funeral was a few weeks later, and the two of you decided to have the wedding two months afterwards.

The two of you were moving into Harry’s house, across the road from the house that your mother and father still lived in. You had so many plans for what you wanted to do to with the place, seeing as though it was way too big for the two of you to live in on your own.

It was your wedding night, and you were walking up towards the front door of the house when you felt Harry’s arm slipping under your thighs. You squeal as he picks you up, wrapping your arms around Harry’s neck. Giggling, you lean forward and place a kiss to his cheek, causing the dimples to show within his cheeks.

“I love you, husband.” You say, smiling as he places you down in the entry way.

“I love you too.” He leans forward and places a kiss to your lips, “Wife.”

It was as though the atmosphere within the room changed the second he said that word. His hands found your hips, resting on the material of your dress. You took a step backwards, causing you to press your back against the inside of the door, your lips immediately attacked by his. Your hips involuntarily buck up to Harry’s, causing a groan to escape from his lips. After a few seconds, he pulls away, kissing down your neck.

“Harry.” You whisper, feeling a moan ready to tumble from your lips at the feeling of his teeth grazing your neck, “Take me upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” You nod your head and he’s quick to pick you up again, this time carrying you over his shoulder. You squeal and grip his shoulders to steady yourself, “Better give my wife what she wants.”

Once you were up the stairs safely, he placed you down and connected your lips again. The first thing you did once your feet touched the ground again, you gripped the edge of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, listening to the material tumble to the ground and drop.

“Can I take your shirt off?” You mumble against his lips and he hums, allowing you to unbutton his shirt and shrugging that material off of his shoulders. This was the most you’d seen of Harry naked, and another human being at that.

“What about you?” He says, walking you both back until he’s sat on the bed, “Can I see you?”

“You’ll have to help.” You giggle, turning around. He starts to unbutton your dress, letting the material slip from your body into a pile upon the floor. He starts to unfasten your corset next, allowing that to slip from your body also. You were very exposed now, and you knew that, but the way that Harry looked at you sent all of your worries flying from your head.

He leaned back on his arms and clambered back into his lap, similarly to the way you had done all those years ago when you first kissed in the library of this very house. You wrapped your arms around his neck, just has his rested upon the exposed skin of your waist.

“YN?” You hum against his lips, “Can I make you feel good?”

You pull away and nod, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. It made you feel nervous that he was going to see you in the way that he was but this was Harry, your husband and the person you had wished to be touching you and near to the years that you had been apart. He helps remove the rest of your undergarments until you’re completely naked in front of him, laying and waiting for whatever he is going to do to you. He removes his trousers and underwear as you do so. There’s something about seeing him like that causes your hear to flutter and the rest of you to follow it.

He hovers over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips before moving down your neck and to your chest until he reaches your breasts, pressing kiss to the plushy skin around it until he wraps his lips around your nipple, lifting his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers.

“Fuck, love.” He smiles up at you as you whither beneath him, feeling all of your senses heightened at the feeling of him on your skin.

He kisses down from your breasts to your stomach until his face is directly where you want it the most, where you’re literally throbbing for him. Without any warning, he leans forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue, causing your hips to buck up from the bed and moans threatening to spill from your lips. Your hand drops to the top of his head, tugging at the curls that rest there. You’ve never felt like this, ever, in your life and you believe that if you feel it too much you will become accustomed to it. Your thighs try to clamp around his head but he stops you from doing so by gripping your thighs with his hands. After a particularly hard tug of his curls, a moan erupts from Harry and vibrates against your clit causing you to shudder.

He moved one of his hands up from your thigh to run over your wet slit, “Can I?”

“Please.” You’re quite embarrassed about how breathy it comes out but once he slips one of his fingers in, and a whine escapes his lips you can’t be bothered to care about the sounds that are leaving your lips.

“I need to stretch you out.” He says, curling his finger in you, “Can I?”

You nod your head, “Please.”

He pushes another finger into you, leaning his head back down to attack your clit again. He’s quite gentle with his tongue, using it to make a skilled attack on your clit, using it and his fingers to coax you closer and closer to the first ever orgasm you are to experience.

“Harry.” You whine his name and the feeling washes over you quicker than you had expected it too, but at the same time the man knew what he was doing and you to bring you to that peak. He continued to move his fingers and kitten lick at your clit until your thighs stop shaking. Once you have, he moves up your body again and kisses you.

“Good?”

“Really good.” You laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck, “I want to feel you, H.”

“Certain? Because we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” You place your hand on his cheek, pecking his lips, “I want to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smile, “It’s going to hurt whether we do it now or later. I want to.”

It’s uncomfortable to say the least, the feeling contrasting the one that you had felt earlier. You weren’t in a lot of pain, but it made it a little harder to feel the pleasure that you know you can feel from this act, Lizzie had told you plenty about it when you were younger. Harry grunted as he pushed into you, scrunching up his features. From the way that little groans and deep breaths escaped his lips, you knew that he was feeling an immense amount of pleasure.

“Feel good?” He grunts against your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin as you smile, running your nails down his back. You knew that he was close, from the way he twitched inside of you, and your tried everything to coax it out of him.

“Feel so good, love.” He comes soon after his words, spilling into you and filling you up.

He collapses on top of you and you hold him close to you, pushing his curls off of his forehead that have stuck. You giggle as his pouts his lips, leaning down to play a kiss to them.

“I love you so much.” You smile.

“And I, you.” He pulls you close, “You were never second best, I hope you know that.”

“I do now.”

Three Years Later

“Mary.” You smile, placing your hand on the back of the little girls shoulder, “That looks beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” She says, continuing to add the green paint to her painting.

You and Harry figured out not that long after what do with the large house you had been left by his father. With your art and French skills, and Harry’s love for reading and slight knowledge of simple maths, you decided to convert the house into a school for the kids in the village. It was a place for them to come without having to worry and learn and focus on new skills.

At this point you had just finished one of your art classes and left the kids to let their creativity flow with some paper and paints, as well as pencils and other materials for them to use. You were making your way outside, smiling at the sight of Harry sat in the garden with a group of children sat around him, listening to every word he spoke as he read from a book.

The next thing you saw was your sister, stood with her husband and her children. You were surprised to see your little boy, Oscar, sat comfortably in her arms. The second he sees you, he’s making grabby arms in your direction.

He had just turned one and was now in a phase of not wanting to walk but be carried everywhere. He was certainly his father’s son, in more ways than one. He looked identical to his father, with green eyes and unruly brown curls and dimples, but he was also the exact same person as your husband, and if you thought it was a struggle to live with one Harry Styles, having an Oscar Styles as well was just as hard.

“Hi baby.” You pick him up and place him on your hip, his hand resting on your neck lovingly. From the way he drops his head to your shoulder, you can tell he’s almost ready for his nap. You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry comes over a few seconds later and kisses you on the lips briefly and places a kiss to Oscar’s cheeks. The two of you look over at what you have created for the kids around you and smile at each other.

“I’m glad I didn’t give up on you.”

“Me neither.” You smile, “I love you, mon chéri.”

“I love you too.”

Oscar looks up at the two of you with a pout on his lips, causing Harry to chuckle, “And we love you too, little man.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

23. Hitoshi Shinsou

Theme: Haunted mirror, dark spirit

Kinks: Mind control, fear play, bondage, non-con, cum play, fingering, possession

All underaged characters are aged up. Hitoshi Shinsou is 18+, plus this is a demon AU so he's technically way older than that. Don’t come for me unless I send for you.

Warning: This contains very graphic and dark material including but not limited to non-con, unwilling bondage, and forced orgasms. Reader discretion is advised. Scary ending.

Masterlist

Your friends noticed it first. The way your new mirror behaved strangely. Mirrors don’t misbehave; they’re mirrors. That didn’t stop your friends from talking about the weird vibes your mirror gave them. Images shifted or wavered in its reflection. Fog appeared out of nowhere. Handprints appeared when no one touched it; puffs of air clouded the surface. It was as if someone invisible lived on the other side of the mirror. Despite all their warnings and misgivings, the mirror stayed in your hallway.

“Okay, Y/N, that mirror has to go,” said Jiro.

You furrowed your brows. This wasn’t the first time Jiro, and others, suggested it. The massive antique mirror with its ornate frame continued to hang in your hall. You rolled your eyes a second later.

“What did you see more handprints, or was it a ghost this time?” You asked half-joking.

“It was a whole-ass face is what I was looking at!” Said Jiro.

“A face, really?” Your brow shot upwards. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that you saw a deadman in my rearview mirror.”

“Jiro’s right, Y/N. I saw it too,” said Momo.

Ochaco shuddered. “It was so creepy. Its eyes were staring into my soul.”

“Not you too.” You sighed.

“Get rid of that mirror!” All at once, your three friends shouted.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just a mirror, you guys. I’ve never seen anything weird. It’s just your imagination.”

Your friends didn’t appreciate you discounting their concerns. In truth, you didn’t see even half of what they claimed. The mirror was old, gathered a lot of dust, and was slightly warped. It was a unique piece that you got for a steal.

A steal alright. That should have been your first red flag, you remember Jiro a week after you purchased it. Why would anyone sell an antique mirror for so cheap?

You ignored her jab and polished it up. You ignored Jiro’s warnings now too. Your patience was growing thin with your friends because of their ghost stories and things appearing in the mirror. It was borderline ridiculous. The joke had lost its punchline a long time ago.

“There’s somebody I know who can tell you we’re not crazy. If you don’t believe her, fine. Suit yourself. But if you’re wrong, you have to pitch it.”

You shrug your shoulders. While everybody else snuck past the mirror, you were the only one to stop and look at your reflection. Just out of curiosity, you stared at it and hoped to see an apparition like your friends said you would. There was only you in the mirror. No spooky handprints, no breath fogging up the other side of the mirror, no eyeballs piercing through your soul. It was just an old mirror. You rode in the car with your friends to a metaphysical shop on the other side of town.

“Baba Yaga, this is the girl I was telling you about,” said Jiro as she gestured towards you. She was speaking with an elderly lady who wore a dark blue velvet dress and a floral shawl. “Tell her that she needs to get rid of her cursed mirror.”

She padded over to you, strolling with her knotted cane. The woman adjusted her glasses and squinted up at your face. Her eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she examined your pores. Suddenly, the woman grabbed your wrist and splayed your fingers outward. Wrinkled fingers caressed the palm of your hand, bent and examined your fingers. She shook her head from time to time and hummed to herself.

Your fingers were curled back towards your palm. The older woman pressed both of her hands around you and held on.

“You have a dark presence hovering over you, that’s for sure. It’s subtle, which makes it that much more evil. You can’t see the spirit in the mirror because it doesn’t want you to. You are in grave danger, young lady. Its power washes over you. The longer you keep that mirror, the more powerful it becomes.” You smiled politely. “I think I’ll be just fine, ma’am.”

“No, you won’t,” the old woman snapped. “You are in danger.” She repeated.

“You harbor a wicked spirit in your house. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You must get rid of the mirror!”

You snatched your hand away and spun on your heels. You didn’t wait for your friends. Instead of going to the car, you called for a cab. Your phone vibrated with the text messages they sent you, but you turned your phone on silent. You arrived home just as gray clouds settled across the sky. You didn’t think much of it until you heard rain on your windows and on your roof. You barely made it inside when the storm hit.

It’s just a stupid coincidence, you told yourself.

You walked into the hall to set your jacket and purse on the hanger placed in there. You couldn’t resist stopping by the mirror. You looked into it again. You stared into its depths until your eyes began to water. There was still no sign of the ghost your friends warned you about.

You climbed up the stairs, took a bubble bath, and spent the rest of the night curled up in bed. You turned off the lights before slipping under the covers. Lighting peeled across the sky while thunder rolled. The rain helped you fall asleep, and you were warm underneath your blankets, safe and secure in the knowledge that nothing about the mirror could hurt you.

The sound of shattering glass woke you. You sat up in bed. Your hand instinctively reached for the lamp on your bedside table and tugged on the cord. Nothing. You pulled again, and your light refused to turn on. You checked your phone only to realize that your battery died despite still being plugged into a charger. You swore as you bolted out of bed. Testing the overhead light, you were again disappointed.

You pulled your door open as quietly as possible and hoped your footsteps were light enough to avoid alarming the burglars. You grabbed an umbrella by your front door. It isn’t much, but the umbrella did have a pointy end. You crept softly, pushed forward by fear to know who was in your house. But as you tip-toed, something in the hallway sparkled and grabbed your attention by the throat. You stepped closer only to realize that they were mirror shards. Pieces of glass were shattered over your floor. The mirror’s frame was bent and split apart. It held together with only a couple bits of wire.

Bile rose in your throat. You didn’t hear any footsteps or voices. You growled under your breath and glared at the mirror shards lying at your feet. No longer was it burglars you had to fear.

“That wasn’t funny, you guys!” You called out.

No one answered. You rushed back to the front door and reached for the lock, only to find that the lock was still set. Then you realized that nobody had a key to your house. Undoubtedly, your friends wouldn’t stoop so low as to break in just to smash your antique mirror.

Floorboards creaked. It was in the living room. All your bravery sank like a stone. You dropped your makeshift weapon and scrambled for the stairs. All was cloying darkness. Your hands wrapped tight around the banister as you raced up the stairs. Once you were safe on the second floor, you ran to your room and slammed shut the door. Your fingers groped in the dark for the lock and twisted it. You pushed your desk in front of your door and slowly backed away.

You walked backward to your bed then stopped dead in your tracks. You quit because you felt something tangible collide with your back. An arm like a redwood trunk snaked around your waist as a hand clapped across your mouth.

“Don’t scream just yet, little thing. Let me enjoy the smell of your fear first.” A voice husked against your ear.

A tongue dragged along your earlobe. The deep chuckle following after laughed at your shudders as they ripped through your body. You clawed at hand on your mouth, but no amount of scratching could deter him. Whoever he was, he bent his head and pressed his nose where your shoulder and neck met. A hoarse grumble vibrated in his chest, which was bare. You felt his cold, clammy skin press against your back, solid as stone. You felt him through your nightshirt in all his muscled glory. Cold beads of sweat ran down the side of your face as you realized that there was no way you could fight him.

“That’s a good girl. You know I’ve been watching you. All this time, I’ve been watching you. You must have really liked my mirror,” said he.

Your brows furrowed into a deep V-shape. Thunder clapped overhead. The old woman’s words rang in your head like funeral bells. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You felt your blood throb in every vein in your body. Your heart palpitated inside your chest.

“Ah, yes. There we go. I love more than just a little bit of fear. I want you to live in terror of me. You’ll taste that much better for me.”

An orange tongue of flame appeared out of nowhere. It hovered over your desk. Your eyes took a moment to get used to the sudden light. The arm at your waist loosened only for a pair of hands to grab your biceps and squeeze. You hissed as you felt bruises form on your skin.

The man spoke in your ear again.

“Go over there and fetch the light, but do not look back at me. You may only look at me by the light of that candle, do you understand?”

You didn’t. You only saw a tongue of flame flickering while it hovered over your desk. He released you. You padded over to the desk, which blocked your only exit. You reached out just below the tiny flame. In the blackness, your fingers grazed on some warm wax. Your fingers ran up and down along a long slender black candle that appeared in your hand. Your hand trembled as you took it up.

“Good, good, you’re so wonderfully obedient. Now, slowly turn towards me and look upon the face of your new master.”

You didn’t want to, but your legs move of their own accord. You strained against the intangible threads pulling at your muscles and tendons. You felt the lower half of your body move separately from you, and you watched in horror as your feet turned to face him. You shut your eyes tight.

“I said ‘look at me.” The man’s—no. The creature’s voice dropped several octaves, and it sounded as if multiple voices erupted from his throat. Your eyes snapped open against your will. Tears made their way down your face as your eyelids were peeled open so wide. Your pupils strained in the darkness briefly. By the lighten of the orange flame, you saw him.

He was tall, muscled, and inhumanly pale. His skin was the color of moonlight on a grave. And his face gods his face. Belying his otherworldly, unearthly beauty lay the heart of a beast. Gray-purple crescents like grotesque dark circles hung under his eyes. Indigo eyes matched his hair, which he left in a mess. Like he just woke up from whatever hellscape he crawled out of. All of his muscles were taut and lean, further proving that you had no chance of fighting him off. Your feet padded across your bedroom floor towards him. An invisible hand held your chin high so that you met his gaze more clearly.

“My name is Hitoshi, and I was trapped in that mirror for four hundred years. I’ve been waiting for you. The incarnation of the witch who banished me there in the first place!” The creature spat.

Your blood turned icy cold.

“Please, please don’t kill me. I’m sorry. Let me, l-let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t hurt you ever again!”

“My plan was never to kill you.” Hitoshi reached out with his stony hand, grabbed your waist, and pulled you flush against his body. “I plan to make you mine. Forever. Then you will know the horror of being trapped against your will.”

“What? NO!”

The candle was snatched from your hand. Hitoshi turned and threw you unto the bed. The candle reappeared above your head and several other candles that melted into the bedroom’s shadows, cleaved through the air. Blidnign tongues of fire flickered above your bed.

Your clothes were ripped off you, and the torn remains bound your hands together to the bedpost above your head. The same was done to your ankles. Hitoshi stood from the bed to admire his work. The black silken pants he wore slithered off his body, revealing his proud, jutting member and the bead of pre-cum on the blunt head. Hitoshi climbed on top of the bed. The bed dipped under his weight. You thrashed about in the vain hope to yank the knots undone. Hitoshi merely laughed at your efforts.

“I suppose I’ll let you resist the first time. It’ll be more fun getting you to moan while I corrupt you.” His hands dragged upwards along your thigh. “From the inside out.”

You shook your head and cried aloud. No amount of protesting was getting you out of this. Hitoshi licked his lips and stroked his cock as he sat on his knees. He straddled your waist. He was fucking his hand right in front of you. You tried to look away, but a force held your head still, and your eyes peeled open. Hitoshi stroked long, fast, and hard.

“I-I need…to get my scent all over you. To make sure anyone else who might cause me trouble…FUCK! Tries coming around. You smell…so good!”

Hitoshi came and sprayed your face, chest, and neck with his cum. The substance was sticky and hot on your skin. He didn’t waste time smearing it all over your breasts, palming your chest, and teasing your nipples. Your body acted on instinct, not out of your desire, and bucked against him.

“It’s working, isn’t it? Just having my cum on your flesh…makes you fucking wet for me!” He wore the triumphant grin of an incubus who just seduced the most stubborn prude in the land.

“No, I’m not!”

“Oh?”

Hitoshi reached behind him and drove two fingers inside your pussy without warning. He stroked your clit before sliding between your folds and plunged as deep as his fingers could go. Your inner walls spasmed briefly against him.

“What’s this, then?” Hitoshi chuckled.

“Stop!”

Far from it, your command made him want to do it more. Hitoshi pushed a third finger inside of you and pumped faster. With his free hand, Hitoshi stroked his cock. Your eyes widened with horror at how quickly he could get it up again.

“Don’t be surprised, little thing. You can’t comprehend what I am and what I can do. Or more importantly, what I’m going to do to you.”

Hitoshi jerked off while sitting on top of you, his balls against your breasts. His fingers filled your cunt and stretched you open.

“I’m putting in another. Then after you come on four of my fingers, you get the honor of taking this cock.”

You tried shaking your head, but invisible hands grabbed your hair and pulled. They kept your head still and forced you to watch Hitoshi stroke his own cock and come all over your chest. Again.

He gave you no warning and very little prep. Hitoshi added that fourth finger. One or two satisfied you, but your pleasure wasn’t on Hitoshi’s mind. He wanted you to come while he stretched you painfully wide. He thrust in deep, almost hitting your cervix. Your cheeks burned a dark bloom at the sound of the wet squelches that your pussy made. Hitoshi pumped faster inside you just while he used his cock as a brush to smear more come on your chest.

Your hips bucked against him; your knees locked in pain. Hitoshi tied your legs so far apart that they burned, but that didn’t stop him from shoving his fingers all the way in. Your head crashed against the pillow while everything below your neck writhed and shuddered. Hitoshi watched your eyes roll into your skull as you gushed around his fingers. He waited until your body stopped humping him before pulling his fingers out. Fluid leaked out of your cunt where his fingers had prevented it from staining your bedsheets.

You whimpered and begged as Hitoshi shifted down your body. He nestled himself between your spread legs. He swiped his fingers across his tongue, put them into his mouth, and sucked them clean. His head rolled back. He groaned from deep in his throat.

“You taste like ambrosia. I’m going to enjoy fucking sense and humanity out of you.”

There was no warning. No pleasantries. Hitoshi did what he wanted. He stroked the head of his cock against your clit then aligned himself with your slit. It took one thrust to be buried deep inside of you. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled your lower body close to him. He sank on his knees and pulled his cock out, then plunged it back in. Your legs were stretched to the point of pain, muscles screaming. Hitoshi ignored your pleas.

You screamed and moaned as his cock pounded you. Your insides were being battered by some unearthly creature that escaped a cursed mirror. There was nothing you could do to stop this. His cock was long and hard and reached deep to kiss your cervix over and over. Your walls clenched around him. Hitoshi poured unwanted pleasure into your body and made it sink into your bones. Your hips thrust in time with his; your body writhed like a snake beneath him.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me who you belong to. Say it!” Hitoshi drove himself harder into your quivering body.

Your toes curled until they ached. Every limb of your body was shaking with effort.

“Y-you,” you cried aloud.

“What’s my name?” Hitoshi slammed his hips down, and your body violently shuddered with each of these movements.

“H-H-Hitoshi!”

“Who is your master?”

“You are. You’re my master. P-Please fuck me, sir!”

“Good girl. You’ll be my new favorite pet in no time.”

The room sweltered. How could someone whose body felt so cold make you pant and sweat? Your body writhed against him. You wanted to touch him, feel him, be able to look at his cock plunging inside your cunt. With his supernatural powers, Hitoshi kept your head forward and your eyes glued on him. You couldn’t watch his cock enter, retreat, and return deep inside your walls again. Your thighs were slick with sweat and cum.

More, more, more.

You needed more. Hitoshi smirked down at you while you slowly lost your mind. Your eyes became blank spaces as his control over you seeped deep into your mind. His essence filled you, just like he was going to do with his cum in just a second. Your walls fluttered and spasmed at his provocation. A light flickered in your eyes. Somewhere in your subconsciousness, you must be screaming with rage. Your body no longer belonged to you and at this moment, neither did your mind. It was mere child’s play for Hitoshi to reach inside and flip the switch. Your dulled eyes rolled into your skull again while your mouth opened wide, and your tongue lulled out. Drool dribbled down the sides of your mouth. He commanded your body to climax around his hard length. You obeyed.

You gushed, spilling everything you had. There was so much of it that it dripped to your bedsheets and on Hitoshi’s thighs. The tight clenching of your walls was enough to push him towards his own climax. Hitoshi groaned like an animal as he spilled his cum into your womb. Rope after rope warmed your lower belly until it was seeping out of your body. Hitoshi pulled out with little regard for how much it hurt. He remained on his knees to marvel at his handiwork.

You were covered in him. His white semen staining your skin and made it glisten. The light slowly returned to your eyes. He watched madness creep in as you realized just what happened to you.

Jiro knocked on your door three days later. She stood shocked at the sight of you in the doorway, appearing as you were. You’d grown a bit pale since the last time she saw you. Your neck and shoulders were covered in purple kiss marks. Bruises formed at your wrist that looked suspiciously like handprints. Dark circles hung under your eyes.

“Y/N, what happened to you?”

“Oh, I met someone recently. Let’s just say he’s really ‘fun.’” The words felt so unnatural coming out of your mouth—both to Jiro and yourself.

“Fun, you say?” Jiro looked at you up and down, unconvinced.

Hitoshi appeared behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry, but we’re awfully busy right now,” he said. Hitoshi began to close the door on your friend. “Call back some other time.”

Jiro stood on your porch, dumbfounded.

It couldn’t be, could it? She thought.

She saw it with her own two eyes but didn’t want to believe it to be true. Those eyes which stared through the mirror were the same ones that looked at her with disdain just now. The thing in the mirror was loose.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #reader fic #horror #non con #kinktober #kinktober week #shinsou #Hitoshi Shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #minors begone

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

DEVIL MAY GRIND

(I)- Can You Touch This?

Dante/ GN!Reader

Series Summary: From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

Work Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you’d never expect: a male strip club. And what you’d also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Gender-Neutral! Reader, Stripper!AU, Minors Do Not Try It, Wholesome Filth

Rodeo’s Two-Pieces: The rest of the series will likely be gender-neutral until the erotica in which I will include a gender-neutral sex scene.

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club.

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys! That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building.

So when you couldn’t hear your thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face.

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?”

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled-up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills.

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!”

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you.

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin.

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers.

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor.

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot.

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar.

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home.

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence.

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink.

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting.

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled.

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation.

“I’m Dante.”

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled.

“Nice name for a nice person. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded.

“What did you wish for?”

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants.

“With those friends?” He chuckled.

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined.

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself.

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned.

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner.

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face.

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin.

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-” Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room.

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends.

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?”

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased.

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness.

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm.

“Oh lord they’re gonna need a mop after this.”

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic.

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.”

The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across.

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock.

White hair.

“I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat.

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement.

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table.

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked-down muscles.

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted.

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands.

His hands groped his butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare.

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt.

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face.

“Now,” He pointed to the crowd.

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package.

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching.

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word.

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs.

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.”

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight.

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.” He pointed at the DJ.

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back.

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs.

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you.

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts.

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast.

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, good lookin’?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake!

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened.

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked.

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped.

“Take a seat.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended.

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval.

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair.

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him!

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you.

Despite the one-in-a-million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded.

“Okay, Dante.”

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his peak-conditioned skin with your own hands.

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had been this close to anything like those erotic novels.

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?!

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up.

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation.

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her.

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze.

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile.

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him.

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed.

“Just givin’ a smokeshow some lovin’.” He argued.

“No, get off the stage, Dante.”

“Five more minutes?”

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine.

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted.

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases.

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you.

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head.

“Ah! He left his hat!” You exclaimed as you took it from her hands.

“A souvenir.”

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service.

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes.

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at.

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom.

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.”

He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar.

“Hey girlie, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner.

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table.

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either - DS

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest.

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your bag, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club.

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver.

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your bag weighed the heaviest on your mind.

With your keys in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home.

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh.

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular.

#dante x reader #dante sparda #gender neutral reader #devil may grind

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squidcrusher · 4 years

Text

Using Knitting and Crochet in Witchcraft

These are both pretty inexpensive hobbies (although they can become expensive if you get into fancy yarns like I have, oops). You can get yourself a hook/set of needles and some inexpensive yarn for less than $10. It is also a great option for those who need ways they can practice witchcraft without it being obvious of what they are doing. And in the end you will have a one of a kind item you can wear or gift. I wanted to share a few ways I have incorporated witchcraft into knitting and crochet.

When starting a project you want to incorporate magic into, start by taking some notes in your BoS. What are you making? Who are you making it for? What intentions will you be setting for the project? What colors/material are you using and why? Leave yourself some space that you can add on new thoughts once you have started the project.

Include protection magic in your stitches to protect yourself or the person you are gifting the item to. I see even non witchy people do this (look up knitted/crochet prayer shawls).

Repeat an incantation to yourself with each stitch. You can either use the same thing throughout, or use something different for each kind of stitch. For example, when knitting I could pick something for knit stitches and another for purl stitches. I made a cowl where when I knitted I had intentions of protection and when I had intentions of confidence. You could also change it up between rows or different parts of the piece, such as the body of a sweater offering luck and the sleeves offering peace.

Think about color correspondences. What feeling does yellow give? How about purple? I like to make my own correspondences because I feel like I bond with them better that way, but you can also look up some references if you need a starting point.

Sometimes I like to burn a candle or incense while working on my projects. I usually pick a scent that has correspondences that match with the correspondences I have chosen for my stitching.

Stitch while repeating an incantation to yourself, repeat as many times as you feel necessary. Once you feel satisfied, rip back your stitches to release the spell. I usually repeat the incantation once again while ripping the piece back.

Similarly, you could also do this with burning the yarn afterwards instead of ripping it back. Always practice proper fire safety if you choose to do such (I really recommend doing this outside). Know what your yarn is made of and how it will burn if you choose to do this. I prefer to do this method to rid myself of yarn used for binding/hexing/cursing spells. Decide what works best for you and your intentions.

Learn how to spin your own yarn using a drop spindle. I got a drop spindle kit that included some hanks of roving for around $15. I usually save yarn I make myself this way for special spells instead of day to day things. Spinning your own yarn can be pretty involved, but that also means you are putting a lot of your own personal energy into it. Your yarn won’t be pretty your first few spins, but it is still going to serve its purpose.

Knitting and crochet are also great ways to enter a meditative or relaxed state even if you currently aren’t using it for magic. I am a pretty fidgety person, so I find traditional ways of meditation a bit difficult. So instead I like to put on some relaxing music and work on a simple project.

Don’t feel like every time you knit or crochet that you must be doing magic. Sometimes you can just do it because it is fun and you like it!

I taught myself how to knit, crochet, and spin yarn all from youtube. There are lots of great videos on there. If you are having a hard time following one video, try watching a video from someone else. I had to watch about 6 different people before I finally started to get knitting down.

If you have a local yarn shop and the money to do so, support your LYS! Yarns there are going to usually be more expensive, but you are going to find unique items from smaller spinners that you won’t find at a big craft store. Don’t feel like you need to spend big money to enjoy the hobby if it isn’t in your budget though.

If you also knit or crochet please feel free to add on some ways you incorporate magic into your hobby! I would love to hear it.

#witchcraft #witchblr #magic #knitting #crochet #wakingwitchblr #WWMakersMonday

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ohvalleyofplentyyy · 4 years

Text

Life, Death, and Between

100 Followers Celebration One-Shot

A/N: Thank you so much for the love and support! I will be posting chapters to Chamomile and Merlin’s Blood soon but wanted to make something special for this milestone :)

p.s, i’ve linked specific words like flowers and outfits so you can see what i was picturing if you want or if you don't know what a specific flower is :)

male reader insert here!

master-list

Life, Death and Between

“Jasky Baby! Geraaaaaaaaaaalt! Get up!”

You yelled running up the stairs of your cottage with a newfound spring in your step. The boys were both snug in the two beds you had set up in the attic once you figured they would be staying for a while.

You lived right at the bottom of a huge mountain that was surrounded by a very dense forest, how these two idiots were able to stumble upon your home in the middle of the night three years ago still befuddled you.

You pulled the blankets off the musician first, then the giant monster hunter and finally ripped open the curtains, letting light stream in.

Jaskier moaned and put his pillow over his head to shield his eyes. “Y/N, why are you doing this to me?!” He whined.

“Come on! You have to get out of bed and see this!” You said excitedly. Geralt slowly sat up and watched as you ran amok through the room, throwing clothes at them trying to speed up the process.

He chuckled and eventually got out of bed, grabbing the pillow off of Jaskier and whacking him with it. “Come on, we better go before she decides to roll you out of bed through the window.”

Once the boys were fully dressed (though Jaskier’s shirt was buttoned through the wrong holes making it crumple a bit at the bottom) you ran down the staircase and zipped out the door. “What’s up with her?” The bard mumbled, trying to tame the creature that was his hair.

They came ou the front door and you appeared in front of them wearing a flower crown made up of daisies, baby’s breath, and pink kinnikinnick.

In your hands were two extra flower crowns that you quickly placed on the boy’s heads and then motioned for them to follow. The two followed you until you stopped at a small body of water that a waterfall ran into from the mountain.

It was a sight to behold.

The water was a serene blue, and the light danced upon it like stars in the night sky. Small water Nymphs skittered on the surface, moving what appeared to be small boats to the center of the pond. These boats were made of wood branches, large leaves and some were mushrooms flipped over.

But the best part about them was the fairies sitting in them.

All at once, fairies seemed to appear at the pond. So many colors and types, some wore petal clothes and others wore nothing. Wings varied in size, ranging from the size of Geralt’s hand to nail on your pinky.

The three of you watched in awe as a special ceremony was performed on the water. The fairies lined up in two rows on each side, making a pathway from the edge of the pond to the center. In the center, the boats had been enchanted and now floated in the air, sparkles of the pixie dust making them shimmer in the light.

Then all the chattering from the fairies ceased and they turned to the water's edge and watched the treeline as something emerged. It appeared to be a floating carriage made from an old bird nest and flowers. Sitting in this carriage was the most ethereal fairy you had ever seen. She had long flowing lilac hair that flowers were embedded into.

Her dress was made of rose petals, mostly white, sans the bottom hem that was purple tulip petals. It trailed over the carriage side it was so long, making it appear like a wedding veil, floating behind a bride.

Her wings though were the most gorgeous you had ever laid eyes on, they weren’t very large, about the length of your palm to your index finger. But they seemed to be translucent, the only way you would know they were there is if the light reflected through them, creating a small rainbow effect on the other side.

Once at the edge of the pond, faint music started to play, you looked over to the source and saw several fairies with miniature versions of violins, lutes, and a flute. As the queen of the fairies crossed over the water, the others started to bow as she passed. You immediately did as well when she glanced over to the three of you. Geralt slowly bowed his head and Jaskier did a full bow when you tugged on his tunic.

The band of fairies died out as the queen flew up from the carriage. In a somber voice, you heard her speak.

“Thank you all for coming today, this ceremony has been long overdue since many have treated our kind unfairly, we have had no reason to have it. But now, a true friend has stepped forward and offered their unconditional love to us. It is with great honor that I present our new Guardian of the Forest.”

Jaskier whispered to Geralt, “Do you know who it is?” With a small smile, Geralt answered. “Yes, I do.”

This greatly intrigued you, so you bent over, “Who is it then?” Geralt made a motion to look forward.

There were two small fairies in front of you, one of them lime green and the other an ivory color. They both wore white tulip tunics and were holding a long shawl out. It was very thin and resembled the queen’s wings. There were small symbols etched into the edge all around it with pixie dust.

“It’s you.”

You watched in awe as the fairies draped the shawl over your shoulders and led you to the edge of the water where the pathway of fairies floated. You took a step into the water, the sweet cold tickling your bare feet and soaking the bottom of your skirt. But it did not matter, as you walked down the path of magical creatures.

You noticed others that had come to watch the ceremony. Some deer with on the opposite side of the pond, small hummingbirds flitted to a branch overlooking the water. Even butterflies flew around, watching the scene unfold.

Once at the center of the pond, the queen flew down to you and bowed her head.

“Thank you for always doing what is best for the forest. Your caring nature has shown us that there are still humans worthy of knowing our powers. You shower us with loyalty and never ask for anything in return, only a friendship. Now that you have proven yourself to be a true friend, it is with great honor that I bestow you, Guardian of the Forest and Creatures.”

With a wave of her hand, a flower crown made of twine, lavender, baby’s breath, poppies, and everlasting floated over and took the place of your other crown that two fairies took off your head. Then, with a kiss to your forehead, magic flourished.

You fell into a small slumber as Geralt and Jaskier watched in awe as you were lifted by magic from the water. The fairies flew upwards and circled around you, dancing and singing a magical chant.

Oh, our Guardian,

Protector of all

Loves and cherishes

Anything big or small.

Oh, our Guardian

Whom we adore

Let us celebrate

This moment they are reborn.

As they sang, the water rose from the pond and encased you in a sphere of magic. Lights flashed through it and sparks of pixie dust sprinkled down from the circle. It was like fireworks were going off inside this magical womb made from the water.

The faires chanted and sang until the water started to tremor and then bursted out in every direction.

Light flooded the area, coming from you then simmered down. Gently, you were lowered down to the pond’s surface, only this time, you were able to stand on the top and not sink through. Your once wet clothing was now replaced with a new outfit.

The fabric flowed down your body like ripples of water. It was a white dress that had puffed flowing long sleeves that stopped at your wrist and moved in the wind. The bodice came up and around your neck, various designs in lace and jewels coating the front. It went down from your waist to the water, the trail behind it sitting atop the water just as you were.

You now had small baby’s breath woven into the braided crown of hair. The braids seemed to hold with no ties or lacing, only the sparkle of magic showed beneath the sun's rays.

But was most awe-inspiring, were the new wings that adorned your back.

Beautiful blue morpho wings now fluttered out from behind you, stretching and glistening in the light. It was surreal, you touched the wings as they curled around you, now another piece of your body and mind.

The queen smiled at you. “Thank you so much for trusting in me.” You said to her. You brought your hand up to her and she hugged it, making you grin.

“Y/N!!! Y/N!!” When you turned, you saw Jaskier jumping up and down on the side of the water, Geralt smacking him up the back of the head when heads turned to see the commotion as the bard quite reasonably freaked out.

“You may go to them, you are now the bridge between the fae world and humans.” With one last smile to the queen, you walked on the water’s surface until you stepped foot on land. Jaskier bounded over to you followed by a fast walking Geralt.

You floated a few feet off the ground and spun for them. “Well, what do you think?” The bard gasped, “You, you! You’re a spirit now! You, you, you have wings!!!!!” He spoke very quickly, trying to process his thoughts and emotions on what had just conspired.

As you lowered to the floor, Geralt took your hand and gave it a small kiss on the back of it and then did an elegant bow in front of you. “She’s the Guardian of the Forest, not a spirit you idiot. We wouldn’t be able to see her if she was.”

You chuckled, “I can see so many things now that the human eye cannot, the world is so beautiful! There are so many lives that we cannot see with the naked eyes, it’s amazing.”

Jaskier walked around you and trailed a finger down your left wing, “Well, if anyone was going to watch over the forest it would definitely be you. You spend every day tending to nature and it’s inhabitants.”

“Including us.” Geralt added, leaning against a tree.

With a wave of your hand, the train of the dress hooked to the back of your waist and you took each of your friend’s hands, walking back to the cottage.

As you walked, Jaskier asked questions. “Will this change everything? Will you leave and live in the forest? What happens now?”

“Oh Jaskier, I’m not going anywhere. I’m the bridge between fae creatures and humans remember? I’ll always be here for you, now I just have a broader approach to the world around us and some added abilities. I understand that I will have to live up to my title as Guardian and sometimes leave to protect the creatures I love, but I’ll never be gone forever. I’ll always come back to my dearest friends... if they want me too.”

Geralt put an arm around you, “Of course we want you to.”

You gasped, “Is the great Geralt of Rivia saying that he wants me around? Gee Jasky, did he wake up this morning feeling ill? This is very peculiar for a Witcher…”

Jaskier threw back his head and laughed, Geralt just shook his and smiled.

Then you got a bright idea, “Hey, now that I’m not just another damsel in distress for Geralt to protect on journeys like Jaskier—“ “Hey!” “—maybe I can come with you guys when you leave for adventures!”

“Are you sure that would be safe Y/N?” The Witcher asked. You nodded, “I think that maybe the fates led us to each other because they knew we would be able to help each other. It’s destiny!” Geralt groaned, “Don't say that word.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, “I’m not such a bad destiny to have am I?”

“No Y/N, you’re the best destiny to have.”

With that, the three friends walked through the forest, back to your cottage.

Some say that many songs were created that day, the day Life and Death and Between came to be friends for eternity.

Toss a coin to your Witcher

O’Valley of Plenty

O’

The tales of three are whispered

In the dead of night

As Life and Death, became friends

And joined the quest to fight.

To save mankind from its horrid greed

Greatest of friends, and seldom foes

A human also accompanied thee.

Toss a coin to your Witcher

O’Valley of Plenty

O’

And a friend to the Guardian of humanity.

master-list

tag yourself for future writings here

tags: @stretchkingblog97 @alienemilyyyy @angelic-kisses13 @alwayshave-faith @holyhumorliteraturelight @emilyhuynhhh @holychic

bolded are tags that didn’t work.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #jaskier x reader #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #the witcher fandom #plentyyywrites #100 followers #:)#fairies

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timelock97 · 4 years

Text

Game Changer

Chapter Eight: Christmas with the In-Laws

Word Count: 3930

Warnings: The fluffiest of fluff, and probably language

__________________________________________

My mind is still foggy, but the feeling of feather light kisses pressing into my shoulder causes a small, breathy chuckle to leave my lips. I feel Leon’s hand squeeze my arm gently, the other tugging me closer into his chest so he can hug me closer. I let out a small hum, moving to wrap my arms around one of his to hug, “Good morning,” I whisper.

He chuckles from behind me, squeezing me closer to him. “Happy Christmas, my love.” He sighs, my body starting to relax again and send me back into dreamland. “Don’t look now,” I feel Leon press his lips to my ear, “but Hop is going to come running in here in three… two…one-.”

The door slams open, causing me to jump in Leon’s arms. Hop’s feet pad across the floor and jumps onto the already too small bed. “Guys, get up, it’s Christmas!”

I roll so that I am laying on my back before hugging him. “Merry Christmas, Hop.” I chuckle and eye Leon. He smiles back and as I tighten my grip on Hop, Lee pinches and tickles his sides. Hop struggles, laughing loudly before I release him and he rolls off the bed.

“Not cool!” He calls as he runs out of the room.

I sigh and cuddle into Leon a little more, running my fingers through the few strands of hair that had fallen down his chest. I finally let out a soft sigh, “We should get up.”

Lee kisses my forehead, tugging me closer to him before loosening his grip on me. He smiles widely at me. “We have to get dressed into those matching pjs we bought.”

“Fuck yeah.” I whisper, pushing him onto his back so I can throw the covers off and crawl overtop of him. Leon laughs loudly as my foot gets stuck in the sheets, causing me to tumble to the floor. I look over at him and giggle with him while he detangles my foot before I rush to the door to shut and lock it. “No need for Hopscotch to stumble in while we are changing-”

“Yeah, we don’t need that,” Leon chuckles as he sits up in bed, stretching his arms over his head.

I grab our onesies, tossing Leon his before spinning around to pull my shirt and shorts off to change into the onsie. I spin around after zipping it up. I look at Leon dressed in his Charizard onsie, hair causing the hood to puff out. “You look adorable,” I giggle, walking over to him.

He smiles, hands moving past my face to grab the charcoal gray hood and pull it onto my head. “These charizard onesies do look good, but I think I should have got the shiny one.”

I shake my head before pushing off the hood, “But you wanted to make your girlfriend happy, so I got it.”

He smiles and chuckles, pressing a kiss to my nose before spinning me around toward the door. “Let’s head downstairs-”

“I have to brush my hair first,” I whisper, walking toward the door and out of the room to the upstairs bathroom. Once I had finished, and Lee had done the same, we made our way downstairs where Hop and Michelle were waiting.

“C'mon! We have to make and eat breakfast and then we can open presents!” Hop yells excitedly.

The morning is filled with laughter and lots of food. Eggs, pancakes in the shapes of different Pokemon, fruits, hashbrowns, and more.

My eyes wander over to Leon, who is leaning against the counter talking to his mom about something. Hop wraps his arms around my middle and squeezes me, making me laugh and hug him back, “Hey, little man. You excited to see what you got?”

“Always,” he chuckles. “But I am more interested to see what everyone else got. It’s a big deal, you know.” He teases, swaying us from side to side before he takes a step back and offers me a hand while in a deep bow. I give him a big curtsy before taking his hand as we dance not-so-gracefully about the kitchen to the cheery Christmas music playing in the background. Leon eventually comes and steals me from him, spinning us around the room until we are both too dizzy to dance any further. Leon has to hold me up while I regain my feet.

“Alright you three, let’s settle down to eat.” Their mom states, pushing us in the direction of the table. Leon gives me a cheesy grin and I can’t help but grin back. It was a day for celebration.

After eating, the four of us settle in the living room. Gifts slowly getting passed to everyone. I smile as Leon playfully throws the wrapping paper across the room to Hop and he rips into a gift from his mother. Hop laughs loudly as he swats the paper out of the air, his Wooloo bumping the paper around on the floor. As the last of the gifts are being passed around, the more nervous I get about them liking what I got them all.

For Leon’s mother, I had gotten fabric and made a tie blanket; it’s a go-to for people I didn’t know what to do gifts for, as well as a pair of warm gloves in black. She smiles brightly at me as she pulls the plush blanket from the paper, “Darling this is beautiful! Thank you!”

I smile widely as I take her gift into my lap and pull the ribbon off. Inside the decorative box is a pair of Wooloo wool gloves and a Wooloo wool hat that are dyed black. “I love them,” I state, getting up from my seat beside Leon to pull her into a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you do, I know how cold it can get in the winter.” She presses a quick kiss to my cheek before we pull away.

“Open mine next, (Y/N)!” Hop yells, he has stood up from his seat on the floor to grab a bag and the wrapped box with his name scribbled on it.

“But you have to open mine first,” I laugh as he hands me the bag and I settle next to Leon on the loveseat.

He nods and pops the top wrapped package off the wrapped box. He makes sure to be careful and not spoil the larger gift underneath. His eyes light up as he pulls out the plushest forest green scarf. He gasps as he wraps it around his neck, “It’s so SOFT!” He smiles widely before tearing into the box, his eyes going wide. He is basically yelling out of excitement now, “WE NEVER GET LEGOS AND NOW I HAVE Pokemon LEGOS!” Hop leaps from his seat, leaving the box on the floor, and throws his arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I giggle, hugging him back, “You’re welcome, Hop. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, both of them!” He settles on the other side of me on the arm of the loveseat, “Now open mine.”

I laugh, grabbing the bag from off the floor and carefully peel the tape away from the opening. I open the bag and pull the tissue paper way. “Oh my, Hop you didn’t-”

“I knew they would come in handy.”

I laugh as I pull out five pokeballs, five minor potions and revives, a belt, and at the bottom I find a wristband that I can immediately see has a wishing piece inside.

“Sonia helped,” he admits.

I pull the boy into a tight hug, giggling when I hear one of the pokeballs fall to the floor with a thud. “Thank you, Hop. I love them.” I press a quick kiss to his cheek before he jumps up and settles on the couch with his mother.

Now, last but not least, it was time to exchange gifts with Leon. I can see the nervousness on his face as he sets the box for me in my hands.

“I want you to open mine first,” I tease, which normally he would fight about but he doesn’t.

Instead, he bites his lip and slowly tears the paper off. He pops open the lid and looks inside before I notice the way his eyebrows pull together. He pulls out the first thing, a new hat. It had a similar crown design on the underside of the lip, but on the inside of the black canvas I had written a short message.

To my one and only Champion,

May you think of me whenever you wear this, for I am always thinking of you. I wish you nothing but fun times, happiness, and all my love.

Your love, (Y/N) <3</i>

Leon’s lip wobbles, but he doesn’t put it on his head, he instead sets it aside before glancing at me, “I really hope you have one that matches.”

“I do, it has a tiara on it in lavender.” I state, motioning as if I were going to place a hat on my head.

He smiles as he pulls out the next thing, and his breath hitches. It’s a scrapbook filled with pictures of us and stories from the past four years. As he flips through the pages I bite my lip, most are of the two of us, but some include my family and friends from long nights of sitting on the boat and Thanksgiving. I watch as he gets to a page meant for a picture from today, the date printed up on the top with a caption, ‘Many more holidays and celebrations to come!’ He sniffles, which prompts me to turn his face toward mine.

“Hey, you okay?” I wipe a tear from his eyes.

He nods, leaning forward to kiss me gently. “Always as long as I am with you.” He takes a minute to compose himself before he motions toward his gift in my lap. “As much as I love these, I would like to see how you react to what I got you.”

I giggle, taking the box off the floor and pulling it into my lap. “Well, I already got one of your gifts to me-”

“What else did he give you?” His mom asks, only then do I notice my Rotom floating near Hop’s head.

“He got me a Wooloo wool shawl.” I rest my arm over the box for a second, pointing at my floating phone, “Hop can you see what my Rotom is doing?”

Hop glances up, but doesn’t grab it from the air, “Just recording.”

I raise an eyebrow but Lee cuts in, “I asked it to record, wanted to see your reaction.”

“Oh God, should I be scared?” I tease making Leon laugh. I carefully unwrap the bow, now seeing that the wrapping isn’t going to be in the way. Once I lift the lid I let out a laugh seeing three pokeballs nestled into the tissue paper. “Lee, you did not-”

Leon chuckles beside me, motioning me to just continue opening the gift.

I pull the first one out and my heart tightening at the name printed on the ball, “Scorch?” I glance at Lee but he just motions me to the next one. I set down the first ball and pick up the second, it also has a name written on it, “Daisy? Lee, did you get the Pokemon that are some of my favorite team members from the game?” I whisper, but Leon is still prompting me to continue. I set the second one back down and lifted the last ball.

This one was blank. I turn and look at him but he only smiles so I toss the pokeball up, prompting the creature inside to come out. I gasp at the Applin landing in my hands, Leon had snatched the ball before I could so I was able to catch it with ease. However, instead of the normal red color, it is a vibrant green. “Leon,” I breathe, bringing the little creature closer and hugging it gently. “It’s green, Leon its a shiny Applin.” I whisper, looking at him in awe, the Applin nuzzles into my chest. I look at Lee with bright eyes, smiling at him “Isn’t there a saying that if you fancy someone and you give them an Applin it means you will be together forever?” The Applin makes a small noise, causing me to turn my attention back to the creature cuddling into my chest.

“It is,” I hear Leon shift until he gets off the couch, “But I also heard that in Greece, if you throw a girl an apple its a marriage proposal.”

My head snaps up to find Leon on one knee, a ring in hand. A small gasp leaves my lips as I look at him, tears already forming in my eyes as my arms fall slack and Applin lands in my lap.

“(Y/N), I have known since the day I met you, that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You are compassionate, loyal, kind, and sweeter than any Pokemon I have ever encountered. You make me a better person everyday, and I miss you everyday that I am away from you. You push me to be better, for my family, for the people who look up to me, and for myself. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up to you, making you laugh, and watching you succeed. I want to have little you’s and me’s running around and help them be the best people they can be!” Leon hiccups, as tears even fall down his face, “I want you, every bit of you, for the rest of my life. So, will you make me the happiest man in the world, and- and marry me, (Y/N)?”

I nod as tears fall down my face, and continue to nod before a choked “Yes” falls past my lips and Leon sighs loudly before reaching and grabbing my face to kiss me. When we pull away a laugh leaves my lips, “Yes, yes, yes, if I knew any other languages, all of them yes!” I whisper, cupping his cheeks in my hands. Applin bounces in my lap, trying to pull my attention back to it. I move one of my hands to it and caress it. “God, how long have you been planning this?”

His cheeks turn a dark shade of red, “Uh, this summer? I was going to do it after the final battle but that didn’t work.” He lets out a small laugh, cupping my cheek and wiping my tears away. “And it was going to be a different Applin, the lady called me two weeks ago and said that they had produced a shiny one after I had given a kid the one I was planning on giving to you to give to his sweetheart,” he shakes his head as he wipes his own tears softly, “and I’m a mess.”

“My favorite mess,” I giggle.

“Can I hug my new sister yet?” Hop cuts in, his mom shushing him. I laugh, Leon moving out of the way so I can stand and hug his brother and mom.

“Let us see the ring, Leon has been keeping it a secret for months.” His mom teases, and now I realize he hasn’t even placed it on my hand yet. We all laugh as Leon looks panicked, fumbling to pick the ring up from the floor before getting off the floor and sliding the ring onto my ring finger. We can all finally look at it.

It’s not something I would expect from Leon. Instead of just a simple diamond ring, the main stone is an oval alexandrite moonstone with a small diamond on either side of it set in a rose gold band. It’s beyond what I ever thought he would use for an engagement ring. “Did you search my Pinterest board or something?”

Leon laughs, “I asked Ginny for some help, she showed me the etsy artist you like so much. It had to be perfect for you.” He teases, kissing my temple.

Hop grabs my phone, smiling. “And Rotom got the whole thing on video; even of Leon opening his gift from you, (Y/N/N)!”

I smile as I motion for the floating device, she floats over and shows the video, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m going to have to send this to myself so I can show people back at home. Although, I will bend the story and say you just got me an apple and a bunch of ornaments for a future tree.”

“That is something I would do,” Lee chuckles. “But now I want to take you and your new Pokemon outside so you can be fully acquainted.”

I squeal as I grab the box and pull the other two pokeballs out of the box, only to be stopped by his mom.

“Wait, you all need to change first, but I want a picture of you three in your pajamas.”

We laugh, Lee and I pulling Hop in between us to take the picture. After a few pictures were taken, Hop races up the stairs while Lee and I retreat into his room to change. Lee has a huge smile on his face while I change, dressing into a pair of jeans, thick socks, a sweater, and a vest to go overtop. Lee throws on a thick sweater and jeans since he was already wearing socks. We clamber downstairs and Lee, Hop, and I as well as Ivy and the little Applin head outside.

“Who are you going to set out first?” Hop asks, jumping up and down.

I reach into the vests pocket and discover that I am holding Scorch’s pokeball. I smile as I shift the little Applin onto my shoulder and toss the pokeball into the air. “C'mon out, Scorch!” I call out as the little, level five Scorbunny hops out. He immediately hops up and down due to him standing in snow so I open my arms for him to jump into. Scorch chirps at me, huddling himself closer to me as I hug him gently, swaying us back and forth causing Applin to coo back at me before jumping into Hop’s hands. “Look at my little boy!” I coo, Leon chuckling behind me.

“He just wants to battle and make whoever is training him proud.” Leon jokes, making me smile.

“That sounds like my boy, always kickin’!” I tease, making him throw his hands up in excitement. He moves to sit on my shoulder grabbing a paw full of hair to keep from falling off. I smile as my Rotom buzzes around and takes pictures as it goes. I reach inside the opposite pocket and produce the last pokeball, my thumb running over the painted name. “Alright, we got one more left. C'mon out, little Daisy love.” I toss the ball forward and Toxal pops out. She stands immediately from the cold, little sparks emitting from her as she pouts and has a minor tantrum. I lean down, careful to not jostle the bunny on my shoulder, and scoop her up, setting her on my hip. “Too cold for baby, huh?” I tease, her eyes falling on me easily. She grabs a fist full of my vest, tugging it gently.

“I know her nature will make her a low-key Toxtricity,” Leon states, walking over so he can look at Daisy. “I was trying to make sure everything was as close as possible.”

“They are perfect, Lee. Don’t even worry about it, okay?” I mutter, looking up at him with bright eyes. I motion for Hop so I can grab Applin and place her on my head. I let out a small whistle, notifying Rotom to zip over, I giggle as I feel Leon and Hop stand on either side of me, Ivy sitting on my feet as Rotom takes a few pictures. I smile at the results, sighing softly at how homely the whole thing feels, and a bit more of excitement build inside my chest.

“Are you happy love?” Lee pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see his bright smile.

“Absolutely, but now we have something else to do.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, “What?”

I smile widely, carefully letting Applin hop to his shoulder as I lean up and press a kiss to his lips before whispering, “We have to tell my family."

Once the Pokemon were placed back in their balls and settled for the afternoon, I texted my mom to video call me with the whole family. She stated it would be about twenty minutes, which gave me time to talk to Leon about how he proposed. We decided that we weren’t going to show them the video until we had told them about Pokemon; instead, we would tell them the other planned story.

When the skype notification pops up, I grab Lee’s hand before accepting the call.

My family’s faces fill the screen, Aiden seated in the middle.

”(Y/N)-“

"How are you-”

“Merry Christmas!”

I laugh, Leon chuckling softly, “Hello! We are good, and Merry Christmas to you too! How is everyone?”

Lee and I listen to my family talk about their morning, and since my family had celebrated before I left, they had taken the time to just relax and watch movies.

“How has your Christmas been? What was something that was really memorable?” My mom cuts in, smiling widely. Oh, so she knew?

“Well, (Y/N)’s gift was amazing.” Leon gushes, giving my thigh a firm squeeze. “I loved the scrapbook. She actually made me cry.” Lee admits making me smile as I lean over and kiss him gently.

“Leon got me an apple.” I tease, making Leon laugh as I brush my nose against his.

My brother’s mouth falls open, “Dude, that’s not a gift!”

Leon laughs, “Hold on little man, there is more to the story.” Leon shifts next to me, “So here in Galar if you give someone you really like an apple it’s your way of confessing your love-”

“You did that already,” Aiden whines, making Leon laugh.

My folks are laughing too, My mom nudges Aiden’s shoulder, “Let them finish, bug.”

Leon shakes his head and chuckles, “I did confess, but it also means that you want to be with them forever.”

“Lee also told me that there is a tradition in Greece involving apples,” I add giving his hand a quick squeeze before continuing “In Greece if you throw a girl an apple,” I lift my hand into view, “It’s a marriage proposal”

The room falls silent, their faces shocked. It isn’t until Aiden yells out “Oh my God!” That the room fills with cheers. “He didn’t!”

“Baby!”

“(Y/N), Lee I am so happy for you. We are so happy for you both.” My dad smiles, giving my mom’s shoulder a squeeze as she dabs her eyes. “Leon I hope you know that we have always seen you as a part of the family but now we can officially say that you are.”

Aiden throws his arms into the air, “I have an actual brother!”

“You technically have two since Lee has his little brother, who is your age, Aid.”

He smiles, “I’m so excited.”

Leon and I look at each other, honestly we were excited too. For us to train my Pokemon, for the upcoming summer, and our future.

__________________________________________

A/N: Shhhhhh ik Christmas was forever ago, I was writing this about that time, its fiiiiiiiiiine. Hope you all enjoyed!

Masterlist

#cg writes #champion leon #champion leon x fem!reader #champion leon fluff #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #dandeleon #dande #pokemon leon #pokemon shield leon #pokemon sword leon

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cutiecrates · 5 years

Text

Cutie Reviews: Doki Doki Dec 18

Oh gosh, I just realize I accidentally forgot to put November for the previous Doki Doki crate, I hope I didn’t confuse anyone...

This months theme: Heartwarming Holidays

“Get cozy and comfy this December with Doki Doki Crate. This month’s theme is “Heartwarming Holidays” and we’ve curated a collection of items to help you snuggle up in kawaii style through the chilly weather.“

Suteki Crate

This specific Suteki Crate is very in-tune with the contents of the crate, I approve. I also love the coffee cup humidifier and tissue cover, they’re so cute!

Okay, let’s get started!

Holiday Mochi Shiba

Sakura has come to us this holiday to snuggle up and enjoy the cozy season, dressed in her winter best.

A soft and squishy plush with many textures, besides the soft fur she also has a soft, velvet shawl and hat with a fluffy pom-pom and gold snowflake detail to match the lining and gold ribbon. She has sewn facial details and blushed cheeks.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It’s just darling, perfect for winter. The items and details are perfectly flawless, but I did notice the cheeks are stiff from the blush being too heavily applied. You can also see seams and bare patches of fabric all over it if you look at it really close, so it can look a teensy bit messy...

Latte Stencil Art

This next item is a fun one for those days when you need a warm drink- or just feel like being extra-cute with your food items. These come in 2 different sets of 5, one inspired by a polar bear with some fun accents and words, the other is more “traditional Asian” inspired. They recommend using cocoa or green tea powder with these, but you could probably use a variety of things.

So... essentially, realizing we got more than 1 (which I didn’t know when I took this), I decided to try to use the old canister of cocoa powder I have to make the designs. It took like fifteen minutes but I finally got results I was happy with. Never having any experience with these I thought I did okay. But I began to clean up after I took the picture, and when I was preparing to send it... I realized the picture wasn’t saved...

I didn’t have it in mean to try again by this point because I had been putting off going outside to get some weeding done.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I thin they’re really cute and a fun idea. I felt a bit discouraged in doing this but again, I never did it before. It was a lot of fun to keep trying despite that, it made me want to see what else I could use to make these, and I like how we get a set of designs. As I discovered in making these, less is more. You get better results just taking a little out to sprinkle, then spread it around if possible.

Nyanta Claus Washi Tape

Our next item is kind of the “odd man out“ if you ask me, you can probably tell why but just in case- it’s about cats. I love cats but you can clearly see the dog-bear dominant theme, right?

Anyway, masking/washi/sticky tape, whatever you want to call it- it’s essential for the Holiday season when gift giving. This month we got a really cute, Christmas inspired tape by the brand amifa. There are a couple alternate colors/patterns, each staring the adorable Nyanta Claus.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Again, it doesn’t really go with our animal theme, but I think this is perfect for some additional Christmas cheer on presents and decoration. It wasn’t hard to tear, but there was some additional tape that tore off than what I was trying to get. But to be fair, most of these are meant to be used with scissors or tape dispensers, and I have had some tapes get mangled trying to rip a piece off.

Pompompurin Planner

Next up we have an adorable, handy-dandy Planner featuring Pompompurin and all of his cute little animal friends, all donning pompom outfits.

What makes this Planner great is that is also includes a full 2 year calendar, but it also has big colorful decorative calendar pages and memo slots to allow maximum information one might need to write down, for any important dates or schedules. It also has a couple 2-page sheets in the back and an information page, so if you lost the planner someone can return it.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It’s very sweet to look at, but you know, I never used the previous Planner we got. These are better for people who have a “hectic lifestyle“ in comparison to those of us who have a “laid back lifestyle“, and as of late, mine has been fairly laid-back.

However, I do really appreciate the thought put into this item. I was even considering putting it in my bed-side stand.

Rilakkuma Honey Blanket

To top off such a cozy box, we have this really cute mini-blanket featuring a sweet Rilakkuma image. It’s so cute~

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It’s extremely soft and thin, made from a fluffy-fuzzy fabric that would be perfect for a little bit of warm up during winter, or work during summer when it’s warmer out. Lately I haven’t been using a blanket as much due to the heat, but I’m someone who would rather have a blanket on (or to cuddle with) and this is a great alternative.

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 5 out of 5. I loved everything, it was very sweet.

Theme: 5 out of 5. I feel like they did great with the theme! It’s very heavy winter, dog, bear-esque and I can see that. Suteki Crate is spot on. I have no complaints.

Total Rank: 9 out of 10 Cuties. I would recommend this one, unless you wanted something a little more Christmas oriented, rather than winter in general. Also keep in mind the dog bear-theme, which might not appeal to everyone. I probably didn’t sound very excited by the box, but you could say it was so cozy that it made me relaxed~

♥ Cutie Scale ♥

1. Rilakkuma Blanket - It’s so sweet, I don’t really like honey that much but it makes me want to eat something delicious. It also makes a perfect cuddle blanket and hood.

2. Holiday Shiba - I love Sakura x3 she’s so precious~

3. Tape - Nyanta Claus is so cute!

4. Pompompurin Planner - It’s so cute, I love how all the little animals are dressed up~

5. Latte Art - They’re very sweet, and I’m looking forward to using them for more things. I’m still a bit bummed I couldn’t get a picture of my efforts. But it was kind of an ordeal for me...

#dokidokicrate #cutie reviews #sanrio #shiba inu #rilakkuma #pompompurin

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stephrawlingwrites · 6 years

Text

Monster Mash-Up

Co-authored by myself and @effects-of-growing-up in the spirit of Halloween. The original plan would have included more editing, but due to scheduling conflicts, here is the finished piece!

Amy finished her process of getting ready with a third shot, shaking off the bitter taste. Her witches cloak shook with her, the soft dark fabrics still a bit cold from being left in the car. “Okay. I’m ready,” she said with a proud smile, placing her hands on her hips.

Liz looked up from her phone, eyebrow raised. “You sure?” She pointed to Amy’s head.

Amy quickly went to the mirror to see her ebony black wig slipping off to reveal her natural brown locks. She quickly adjusted it, smoothing out the curls so they sat better. She had to admit, she looked dang good tonight. Now if she could just forget about him she might actually enjoy herself.

Liz’s face joined Amy’s in the mirror, her colorfully painted skin a dramatic contrast next to Amy’s darkness. “Stop thinking about him. He doesn’t matter. We are going out, we are having fun, and you are going to be okay.”

“How did you know what I was thinking about?” Amy countered, defensive.

Liz gave her “the look.” It was a nice mixture of mom look meets the best friend “really?” rolled into one. It matured her pretty face.

“I need another shot …” Amy stumbled back to the bedside table where her bottle of vodka was.

Liz blocked her path with ease. She was going to have to be the sensible sober one tonight, no doubt.

“No more. We need to get going. Alex is waiting for us.” She grabbed Amy’s arm and pulled her to the kitchen where their purses waited.

“But what if my ex does show up? What if he brings his new fling? What if she’s really pretty?” Amy pouted. She grabbed her clutch, barely checking to make sure her wallet and keys were in there. Liz made a note to make sure she knew where that purse was at all times.

“It’s Halloween. None of the vampires and other sexy costumes are as pretty in the morning.” She ushered Amy out the front door, taking her friend’s key and locking the apartment.

They headed down the stairs, Amy moving slowly in her heels. She was graceful enough in normal heels, but these stilettos were screaming “I need a distraction tonight.” Liz held on to her arm until they were safely onto the ground floor. With a final glance at their reflection in the window, they stepped out into the night.

The crisp Autumn air hit them with a gentle breeze. Liz swatted her fake ocean blue hair from her face and pulled out her phone.

“The party is on 7th street. Alex lives on 9th.” She read. “We’ll walk to him and then head out from there.”

Amy nodded. She turned and began waltzing away. Liz just sighed and pulled her the right direction. They headed down the street, walking through throngs of princesses, monsters, and movie heroes. Little vampires chased each other as a mummy tried to keep from ripping his toilet paper costume. A ghost or two was even sprinkled in.

Amy smiled at them all, accepting candy from one. Liz kept an eye on her. She was always a little too friendly and clingy with random people when drunk. It led to some awkward adventures.

The sea of kids in costume ebbed and heavy bass shook the street as Amy and Liz neared the roudier district. As they reached 9th street, Liz searched for anyone that wasn’t a parent.

“There! Amy, this way.” She headed towards the dark figure standing under the streetlight, shoulders slumped as they focused on something in their hand.

“Alex!” Amy drawled out, running too confidently in her heels to their friend. The figure turned and Liz paused a moment. That didn’t look like … Liz didn’t get to finish her thought as Amy tumbled to the ground. Liz moved to help her friend up. Alex bent down to assist the two, smiling. Liz looked up at him, meeting a familiar grin. The worry that had gnawed at her insides quickly faded.

“She was pregaming a little hard. The full force of it hasn’t hit her yet.” Liz rolled her eyes, looking at Amy. “Are you okay? Any cuts?”

“I’m fine, mom.” She rolled her pretty blue eyes and smiled at Alex. “Ready to get spooky?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she danced a little.

The corners of Alex's lips turned up into a smile and revealed a set of pearly fangs. “I most definitely am.”

“Then let’s go! I need another drink in the worst way.”

“Well, the party is on 9th. Alex, lead the way.” Liz said.

Amy dug around in her purse. She made a sound of excitement as she pulled out a personal sized bottle of Fireball.

“Seriously? When did you put that in there? No more shots!” Liz tried to swipe it from Amy, but she had already danced out of reach and cracked the seal of the bottle.

“I must have put in there last weekend. I thought I might find something good. I was hoping for a granola bar, but this is way better.” She gave a devilish smile as she tipped the contents into her mouth.

Liz sighed as Alex watched in amusement.

“Come, the party awaits.” Alex’s voice seemed higher, his tone a bit unfamiliar, but Liz shook it off as Halloween spirit. He was probably just working to stay in the vampire persona.

Amy laughed. “Awaits? You’re really in character. Maybe I need to take this more seriously.” She looked around. “I need a broom and a black cat. If I see one, I’m stealing it.”

“No, you aren’t,” Liz interjected as the group moved on.

Alex focused on to Amy, slowing his pace to match hers. “What do you have planned for the evening?” he asked. He moved closer and Amy threw an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“Naughty things. I’ve had some liquid courage and I have Liz to keep me safe. I have to get over my ex and I plan to do it epicly. I plan to go all out,” she said cheerfully.

Alex nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, I’m sure there’s many monsters in the sea tonight,” he joked with an eerie chuckle.

Amy smiled devilishly. “Oh, I hope so.”

When the three arrived on 7th street, there were more parties going on than Liz had expected. “Oh..wow..” She scrambled for her phone. “I can’t remember Jake’s address. Hold on…”

Alex reached to stop her with an icy hand. "No worries, I remember where it is."

Liz shivered and made a mental note to get him some gloves."

“I recall the address. Follow me,” he said. Liz looked over at Amy, who had already started over to a random house.

“Amy, no!” Liz said and quickly grabbed her. “We are not crashing any parties tonight!”

“Come on, we could just casually stop at all these parties,” she said. She spun around on the street making a show of the numerous open doors. Costumed partygoers clustered inside and out at many of them. “Free drinks, free fun. More people to meet.”

Liz shook her head. “No, come on. Alex, which house?”

He pointed a finger to what seemed like the only house on the street that had a closed door. The house was dark. Dark siding, dark roofing, dark windows. The lawn was barely tended, but lights strobed and flashed cutting through the darkness of the windows revealing the rave inside.

Amy and Alex strode up the steps, Amy ready to let loose upon entering.

Liz followed quickly up the sidewalk and to the door.

Alex gave a quick knock and the door flew open, music roared into the night as it was released from its walled prison. A woman almost as tall as the door frame smiled out at them. Her pale white hair streamed down in curls and braids. Fake ears peeked out from behind the thick locks. That paired with her floral halter top and long, flowing skirt, made her a very convincing elf.

The girl smiled flirtatiously at Alex. “I was wondering when you would arrive. The party is already well underway. Please come in.” She stepped aside and Alex walked in.

Amy followed quickly with Liz holding onto her hand, her eyes glittered with excitement. People filled every room in sight as music shook their bodies.

-----

Liz stopped just inside the door. The decor was breathtaking, a testament to the true Halloween spirit. It was beautiful and magical and had an air of danger. Jake had really gone all out this year, the decorations were practically floating. Amy pulled away from Liz and disappeared into the crowd while she stood in awe at the decor.

“Amy!” Liz shouted after her as the colorful sea of costumes closed in after her friend. The music was too loud and Amy disappeared with a flick of the black wig.

Alex leaned in and a chill penetrated the thin fabric of her sequined strapless dress.

“I’ll see if I can track her down,” he yelled, barely audible over the rhythmic bass shaking the house.

Liz nodded and Alex floated off into the fray. She pulled her sheer shawl around her shoulders and made her way into the heart of the party.

She could barely wrap her head around the size of the soiree. The house seemed so much more massive than it had originally appeared. She wove her way through what seemed like hundreds of elaborate costumes. Everything from gnomes to ghouls to gargoyles.

At the far end of the house, Liz found a moment of reprieve in the kitchen. A beautiful angel breezed over to her.

“You look a little lost. Can I get you something?” she asked.

“I’m actually looking for someone. Have you seen my friend Amy?” Liz asked. She pulled up a selfie that Amy had taken of them a few days earlier.

“Sorry dear, I haven’t seen your friend. Do be careful, will you? I have a bad feeling about this,” the woman replied.

“You’re kidding, right?”

The woman studied Liz for a moment before answering. “Oh yes, sorry. Someone must have put a little Halloween spirit in the punch, if you know what I mean.”

“All too well.”

“You should take another round of the party,” the angel suggested drawing back into the crowd. “Good luck finding your friend.”

“Thanks.”

Liz immediately regretted her choice of costume. It was hard to walk, the fitted shape constricted her movement. The flowing ruffles that gave the effect of a flowing tail dragged along the floor, easily caught underfoot she learned as a large fur boot landed and tore the fabric.

“Sorry about that!” The scruffy man turned toward her with an apologetic expression. He gestured to Amy who clung to him, swaying to the beat.

“Amy,” Liz cried.

“Actually, I’m Henri,” he chuckled. He was almost a foot taller than Amy and warmth radiated from his presence.

He directed Amy’s attention towards Liz. Amy smiled and stumbled into a hug with her friend.

“Lizzy, I love you. I love you so much.” She held onto Liz and swayed to the beat shooting seductive glances toward Henri.

The corners of Henri’s lips turned up. “Ah, Lizzy. You must be the best ‘mermom’ in the world that Amy has been going on about?”

“That sure sounds like Amy,” Liz said. “Thanks for keeping her safe.”

“Anytime.” Henri ran a hand through his beard. “You must have been looking for your friend the whole time. Let me get you a drink.”

“Actually, I’m the sober one tonight.” Liz glanced at Amy who had started pulling her along into the crowd.

“A water then. Don’t wander too far, I’ll be back,” he said with a smirk. “Your friend Amy sure seems to have a habit for wandering off.”

As he slipped off into the room, Amy pulled Liz through the sea of monsters that almost seemed to part just for her. The whole room seemed to converge on Alex when they bumped into him.

“Lizzy! I see you found Amy,” he said as he stepped between them and wrapped an arm around each of them. Intoxication evident on his breath.

Amy pulled away from his arm and began chatting up a shorter man, dressed as some type of goblin. The goblin didn’t seem that interested, but Amy was too drunk to care.

“Yep.” Liz said, a little uneasy. “Have you been drinking?”

“Oh, you know. A little here, a little there.” He smirked at her.

Liz raised an eyebrow at Alex. “You’re not really yourself tonight.”

He laughed. “It’s Halloween. No one is really themselves tonight.”

He pulled Amy into a twirl and pulled her close. Amy giggled as he said something into her ear.

Liz stepped out of their way and nearly tripped over the goblin Amy had chatted up.

“So sorry,” they said. Their voice raspy beneath the detailed prosthetics. They took a stiff step backward.

“Oh no, that was all me,” Liz replied. “Are you okay?”

They smoothed their costume and nodded. The unnatural movement of the costume seemed to throw them off balance. Liz reached out a hand to steady them but they pulled back, offended.

“I’m sorry about my friend, she’s a little …”

“Drunk, yes, I noticed.” The goblin looked uncomfortable. “I hope she can understand. I just don’t -- I mean, I’m not interested in …” The goblin gestured to Liz.

“Oh, you’re --.” Liz’s cheeks flushed red. “I am so sorry. Please forgive her. She’s dealing with a very rough break up.”

“I understand. It happens to the best of us.” They nodded again, steadier this time. “Lotor, by the way.”

“Liz.” Liz said. “I love your costume by the way, amazing attention to detail.

Lotor looked down at their tunic, a confused expression touched their eyes. “Thank you. It is the traditional garb of bank goblins.”

“Oh, like from Harry Potter!” Liz gushed.

“Eh, not exactly.” They said. “Actually, it’s more like--”

“Excuse me.” Henri materialized from the party behind Liz and passed her an unopened bottle of water. “Lotor, my good friend! Nice to see you out.”

“Henri.” Lotor acknowledged with a growl. “If you’ll excuse me --” He sneered and was consumed by the crowd.

“Have you seen Amy?” Henri shifted his attention to Liz.

“Yeah, she was just …” Liz drifted off when she looked over to where Amy and Alex had been dancing. “Where did she go? I swear she was just over there.”

Henri shrugged as he looked around. He stretched to look above most of the partygoers’ heads.

The atmosphere of the room shifted and a live band began to play. A cheer erupted on the other side of the room which suddenly seemed so much larger than it should have been.

“Please, for the love of all things sane …”

They turned as a member of the band pulled a now topless Amy out of the crowd. The singer danced with her while the band played the intro of Werewolves of London.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Liz smacked her forehead. “We’ve got to get her off the stage.”

The entire party erupted into an echo chamber of howls as the chorus played, Henri included.

“You too?” she raised an eyebrow.

Henri shrugged with an innocent smile.

-----

Liz gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll go get her,” she said, but Henri seemed to busy watching Amy dance and singing to hear her.

Liz slowly began pushing her way through the crowd, giving a barrage of ‘excuse mes’ and ‘sorries’ as she went. The music was booming and bodies were crashing against one another. A deep red drink was spilled on to Liz’s wig from behind, sending the stench of iron over her. She wrinkled her nose but kept powering on.

As she got closer to the stage, the singer dipped Amy down, kissing her neck playfully. His eyes were yellow with slitted pupils, likely due to contacts, and he looked ready to eat Amy alive. Panic filled Liz’s stomach like acid, bubbling up and making her feel nauseous.

She reached the stage, hoisting herself up and grabbing Liz from the man. “I’m sorry, but she’s not interested.” Liz’s tone was stone cold and firm.

“Oh come on, Lizzy, I was having fun!” Amy whined.

“Yeah, Lizzy, I think she’s pretty interested,” the man said, his eyes hungrily looking over Amy. Liz pulled off her shawl and threw it over Amy’s chest to cover her.

“I ran into Fabio before he took the stage. He’s a musician.” Amy gave a playful smile. Liz shook her head.

“I can see that. Now let’s go.” Liz pulled Amy away, hopping off the makeshift stage. She helped Amy down and lead her back through the crowd. A few people booed while others made comments about Amy’s body. All the while Amy pouted. She was having such a good time and Liz was ruining it.

A new band took the stage and a new song started. Liz was thankful as people rallied to a new song and lost interest in her half naked friend.

Attempting to make her way back to where she thought she had left Henri, Liz kept a tight hold on Amy’s arm. Every few steps she tried to stop, but Liz didn’t let up. This evening was getting ridiculous and she wanted to get Amy somewhere safer.

As Liz looked around the crowd, she noticed Fabio heading towards Alex. She slowed, watching the two lean in close and begin whispering, almost conspiratorially. Alex looked around and through the crowd met Liz’s stare. Confusion and a gut-wrenching feeling of dread went through her body as he gave a large, pointed smile towards her. Fabio followed his stare and sneered before agreeing to something Alex had said.

Liz grabbed Amy’s hand tighter and started pushing her way towards the door. Alex was acting extremely weird and it made Liz uncomfortable. She was worried about him, but Amy was in more need of her attention than Alex. He could handle himself.

As she reached the door, Amy stopped. “Alex! There you are. Isn’t this party just so great?” She asked, her words slurring. She reached for their friend and Alex smiled, taking her hand.

“You have had quite the evening, but you're not leaving yet, are you? It has only just begun.” Alex looked to Liz, her hand grabbing the door handle.

She was about to twist it when it moved, the door opening and forcing her to let go and move closer to Alex. Fabio stepped in, dark curls slightly tousled from the breeze outside. Liz had no clue how he had gotten out there so fast.

He stepped in and Liz took Amy’s hand, pulling her back to her. “Amy’s had a long night. It’s my job to get her home safe.”

“We can do that. Don’t you trust me, Lizzy?” Alex said, leaning closer to Liz. Something in his tone lured her to look into his eyes and for a moment, her mind went fuzzy. Why not stay? What was so wrong wi-

“There you two are!” A familiar voice said, breaking Liz from Alex’s control. “I was looking everywhere for you two.”

Amy’s face lit up. “Henri!” She scuttled over to him and Henri took his jacket off, giving it to her. “Did you see me on stage?”

He smiled and nodded. “Oh yeah, you were rockin’ hard.” He looked to Alex and Fabio, his face changing ever so slightly, hardening. “You two bothering these girls?”

“Of course not,” Alex said. “They were leaving and we were simply trying to convince them to stay.”

“Amy’s drunk. She needs food. I was thinking of taking her to Denny’s. It’s her favorite place to eat after a night out,” Liz explained quickly. She watched as Fabio moved from behind them and stood beside Alex.

Henri nodded, putting a protective arm around Amy. “I like that idea. Mind if I join?”

“Of course not, the more the merrier.” Liz looked to Alex and Fabio, hoping deep in her gut they wouldn’t tag along. Alex was just acting too strange and she really didn’t want him anywhere near herself or Amy now.

Henri gave the two a look and they quickly backed off, disappearing into the crowd of party goers.

“Let’s get pancakes!” Amy said, throwing her arms up in excitement. Liz smiled and opened the door, following the two outside.

-----

A sobering breeze washed over the trio as they walked toward the Denny’s on Hillcrest. Henri and Amy exchanged loving glances, his arm wrapped around her waist. Candles flickered out in the jack o'lanterns as the last bits of magic of the evening wore off. Smaller groups of drunk college students huddled together as they made their way home.

Henri pulled open the door and a frazzled waitress in a bat wing headband nearly tripped over Amy.

“Careful there,” Liz said as she helped the waitress steady herself.

“Sorry. Not sure if you’ll find a booth here, crazy night.” The waitress mumbled as she scuttered off.

They looked around the room and saw what she meant. Costumed customers bunched into booths, teemed tables and converged the counter. The place was packed.

Across the room, a friendly face waved for their attention. A dark-haired vampire with a costume store cape beckoned them over to the only empty booth in the room.

“Alex?” Liz shouted. She led a confused Amy and Henri over to the table.

“How did you get here so fast?” Amy asked. She and Henri pushed into the booth opposite Alex.

“Where the hell were you?” Alex pulled Liz into a hug. “I waited for almost an hour I missed the best part of the party!”

“What are you talking about? You brought us to Jake’s party. What the hell was that at the end?” Liz pushed him off of her.

“No? I looked for you all night and no one had seen you.”

“Alex, you were there. You and Amy were dancing, and you knew the band playing.” Liz recalled, suddenly less confident in what she had seen.

“Oh, you mean Alexa?” Herni chimed. “She’s quite the character. Bit of a bloodsucker though, don’t let her get too close.”

The realization of what he had implied dawned on her as she realized just how hairy he was.

“Liz, are you--?” Henri asked.

“I think I’m gonna--” she retched.

“Oh, are you okay?” The waitress from earlier had come over to take their order and the fact that she was too exhausted to care was evident in her voice.

“She’ll be fine.” A cheery Amy replied.

“Do you know what you want?” She asked the rest of the table.

“Two spicy skillets and a T-bone steak and egg, rare and over easy, please,” Henri ordered.

“Will that be all?” The waitress asked.

“Oh sorry, what do you guys want?” Henri asked Amy and Alex who tried to console Liz.

“I’ll just have some of yours,” Amy said not looking up.

“Make that three spicy skillets. Alex?”

“Can I get a water for her and a chocolate shake?”

“So that’s three spicy skillets, rare T-bone and eggs over easy, water and a chocolate shake. Anything else?”

“Fuck, sorry, can you make that an Oreo shake?” Alex asked.

“Sure thing.” She adjusted the order. “Are you sure she’s going to be ok?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. She just needs a minute,” Amy replied. The waitress headed to the kitchen. “Deep breaths now. Everything’s going to be alright, Liz.”

“How do you know it’s going to be okay, Amy? Things are not going to be alright! We almost died tonight!”

“Nah, Henri would have kept us safe.”

“Wait, what exactly is going on?” Alex asked.

“Fucking Henri here is a fucking wolfman!” Liz shouted.

“Actually, we prefer Lycanthrope …” Henri eased.

“Amy, you gotta fill me in. What did I miss tonight?” Alex asked.

“Oh man, Alex. Do I have a story to tell you.”

#original content #oc #writer #writing #halloween #short story #halloween theme #halloween short #co-authored #co-written #monster #writeblr #writer friends

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theonewiththefanfics · 6 years

Text

The One That Got Away (part 1)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader; Platonic!Poe x Reader (set in some sort of time period where both Rogue One and Force Awakens interact, cause I just need my babies to be safe and sound and I’m Cassian and Poe trash and I need those two to meet) also includes the Rogue One gang and Force Awakens buddies (probably also characters from The Last Jedi, but we’ll see)

Word count: 1530

Genre: Angst (soooooooo much angst)

Pronouns: female

Warnings: swearing; later on smut

Synopsis: Reader is Force-sensitive. As the First Order reigns Kylo Ren had captured her during one of the missions and tried to bring her to the dark side, yet he failed the first time. In fears that Kylo will hurt her and the ones, she loves Y/N breaks Cassian’s heart and disappears. Two years down the path circumstances make them meet. Cassian is determined to get the reader back, but she has her own mind set to make sure he never wants to see her again.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12- END

Y/N trudged through the sandy dunes of Jakku. The wind had started to pick up and the storm which Poe and Y/N were warned about two days before their comms cut out finally had caught up to their region.

“Fucking sand,” murmured Y/N as she pulled the shawl tighter across her face.

Poe’s jovial voice brought her out of the brooding. “Oh, come on, Naili! It’s not that bad. We’re almost at the base. We’ll spend the night there, let the storm pass and get back to D’Qar in no time.”

“If by no time you mean three days later than we were supposed to get back, then yes, we shall.”

Poe threw his hand around Y/N shoulders. “Don’t be such a prissy princess, princess. We have Kylo to throw temper tantrums.”

A snort escaped Y/N mouth and she rolled her eyes affectionately, but soon the somewhat elated feeling disappeared.

Kylo Ren. The new Supreme Leader. The one who had made her run away from the people she loved and the reason she now went by Naili. Only Leia knew the truth about her and her past. Not Poe, her best friend and the person Y/N knew she’d find a shoulder to rely on and have her back during a mission, not Finn, the defected Stormtrooper, that always knew how to cheer her up. Not Rey or Han or Chewie, no one else but Leia knew and Y/N was determined not to let the past resurface. After all Kylo and his knowledge of how Force-sensitive Y/N was promoted her to shatter the heart of Cassian Andor- the only person she has ever loved with her whole being.

It has been almost two years since then. There had been a few close encounters where Cassian had almost spotted her or where he’d been sent on a mission with the Rogue One team to the same planet, but as if willing the Force to conceal her, they never crossed paths.

The heavy bag slung across her shoulder started to slip, so Y/N readjusted, throwing it over her back and letting it swing by her other side.

“Would have thought that all the training you do made you able to carry one silly bag,” Poe snickered next to her.

“It does,” she retorted,” I’m just letting the other shoulder rest when the inevitable time comes when I’ll have to throw your unconscious body over my shoulder and save your ass.”

Poe let out a breathy laugh, his own face half covered by a piece of cloth, but you could see the smile lines around his eyes. “Touché, my friend, touché.”

They were supposed to retrieve not only intel on where the next First Order strike would be but also some medical supplies, the base was running dangerously low on. The first part was safely hidden in the BB unit rolling quietly next to them, the second one was in five bags- two across the bodies of the rebels, the three others on a sledge being dragged by Poe and Y/N.

The white and orange droid beeped in agreement to what the girl had said, making her smirk triumphantly at Poe.

“Oh come on, BB-8! She hasn’t saved my ass that many times!”

“No,” Y/N spoke up, “he’s only referring to the times we were in the air, not counting the times on ground battles.”

A groan escaped Poe’s lips as Y/N let out another laugh. “Whose side are you on, buddy?” Poe's eyes went down to the droid.

A series of beeps made both humans shake their heads and a huff of laugh escape.

That’s how it had been for six months now when Y/N had rejoined the Resistance, but with a new name, a new history and a new future to look ahead. Admittedly she hadn’t thought that she’d find General Leia as her new leader, the mother of Kylo Ren, but since the battle of Crait, they’d been bouncing around the systems in hopes of shaking them off and no one in their right mind would think of setting up their base on the one destroyed previously.

Leia was Force-sensitive too and had helped Y/N to mask her abilities as best as she could.

In hindsight, the only thing similar that Naili and Y/N shared now was their facial features, but even then, her once long hair now chopped to a short Y/H/C bob made her look like a completely different person. But the scar that ran down the left side of her neck, over her collarbones and straight between her breasts was a reminder of who she once was. Sometimes at night, she could still feel the searing hot pain of the red lightsaber being dragged across her skin. The one reason Y/N had had to die.

“Look,” Poe’s tired voice brought her out of the pondering, “the base.”

The girl’s eyes lifted up to find the remnants of a giant Star Destroyer.

“You sure do like irony.” Poe’s eyes glinted with amusement as both of them and BB-8 worked their way to the ship.

They were almost inside when a Shuttle SW-0608 appeared overhead making the rebels and their droid break into a sprint before it could land. They were so close. So close to getting to the X-Wings and finding their way back home.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Y/N shouted under her breath as she tried to pick up the speed, her words carried away with the wind.

“Come on!” Poe’s head snapped back to the ship that was now making its descend on the sand, not too far away from them. Poe could only hope that the storm would swirl the sand around enough to cover their tracks and hide them from the sight of the troopers.

There was something odd to Poe about why the Order would send out such an old shuttle, but the fear of getting captured once again didn’t allow him to ponder much more. Their boots clanked against the metal, echoing through the large halls as they finally entered the ship.

“BB,” Poe knelt down next to the droid letting him open up a compartment and look over the flash-drive type of thing inside, making sure that it was secure, “take this back to the base, take this to Leia and make sure the Resistance knows that the Order is on our trail.”

The droid let out various beeps that expressed how worried he was. “We’ll be fine, buddy. I have Naili by my side. We’ll get back to the base, I promise.” He patted the droid’s head with affection. “Now go, BB. Go.”

With one last glance, BB-8 rolled through the Star Destroyer interior and disappeared into the darkness.

In the meantime, Y/N placed the medical supplies with a tracker in a safe corner where only a thorough search of the ship by ripping panels off would reveal the hidden stash. The Resistance needed them, so she made sure that on one of the scouting missions that would no doubt be ordered after this shebang, the rebels would be able to find them.

“So,” she extended the sniper part of the blaster, pulling it in its place, “who was in the lead last time?” Y/N came shoulder to shoulder with Poe who had unholstered his blaster. His eyes roamed over the gun and an eyebrow shot up.

“Now that is not fair. You get a sniper and I get a lousy blaster?”

“All is fair in love and war,” a crooked smile appeared on the girl’s face as she knelt down and looked through a hole in the ship.

Common sense begged them to run, but they would not make it to the X-Wings in time, especially as the winds picked up their speed, an eerie sound like a vail filtering through the Imperial ship. It was a day walk at best and now they were trapped.

They both squared against one another as Y/N peaked through the scope.

Poe’s voice was quiet as he asked how many were there. They had the advantage of a cover and a surprise, but if there were many odds definitely would not be in their favour.

“Can’t see, they are too far away, the dune is covering them.” She turned her weapon to the skies, trying to figure out if back-up was coming. Theirs or of the Resistance, or worse if Kylo’s own ship would land, but the heavens above seemed just as full of sand as her hair did.

“Can’t see jack shit! The winds are too strong.”

“Well,” huffed Poe,”let us hope it’s to their disadvantage as much as it’s our own.”

It felt like their heartbeats could be heard through the intense winds, the adrenaline rushing through their veins in anticipation of the upcoming fight.

Despite all of that their breathing was levelled. Months of fighting side by side, Poe and Y/N knew they could rely on each other. When it came to the dirty stuff they worked like a well-oiled machine, both in the sky and on the ground.

She glanced over at Poe, who threw her his signature smirk. “Don’t get any ideas that you’ll get rid of me that easily.”

Y/N smiled right back. “Kinda counting on it.”

She peeped through the scope once more and went completely rigged.

“Cassian.”

A/N: AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! So this is my first imagine ever and I’m suuper exited. This is gonna be a series, and I’m already working on the rest of it. In the mean time send in some requests if you like. I should post a list of who I write for soon enough. Hope you guys enjoy this! feedback is always greatly appreciated.

P.S. Please don’t repost without asking. :)

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druidkitty · 6 years

Text

Rumple’s Dark Castle Chapter 28

Read the entire work here

That night Belle had a very difficult time sleeping, something that wasn’t foreign to her, but this time the reasons were twofold. First, every time she closed her eyes she saw either the ogres or the blob creatures. Second, she was terrified about this ridiculous errand Rumple was sending her on. There was no way she could ever pass as his sister. They did not look anything alike. Rumple had assured her that if they questioned it at all she just had to plead adoption. Yet, these were powerful men and women-some magical folk. Wouldn’t they be able to tell if she was lying or not? And not to mention she would be lying to THE KING. Couldn’t she be locked away for such a crime?

Rumplestiltskin didn’t seem to think so. He seemed fairly confident in this whole thing as if it was the best plan he had ever concocted. Maybe it was. Then again he was the one who also had thought it was a good idea to lock his son in some sort of time prison to keep Bae safe. His intentions were good-in that case at least-but he really needed to set his priorities straight.

Rumplestiltskin needed to understand that this mission was the absolute most ridiculous thing to do. Yet, she knew she was still going to do it. She would do it for him because she cared for him and she cared for Baelfire. It probably wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot. At least she wouldn’t be lying when she did call him a coward. In her heart she believed him to be brave, and she knew she would still try to alter his decision to go through with this and would most likely be unsuccessful. But having her go to the palace on his behalf was a very cowardly thing to do. Yet, if the King did seize Rumple and his son, what would she have left? Absolutely nothing.

All these weeks in the Dark Castle, all these weeks hoping she would heal and yet still not one memory had returned to her. It was hopeless, just like getting a good night’s rest. It didn’t help that every little sound or movement caused her to cringe, to recall what had happened earlier that day. But Rumplestiltskin had assured her over and over again: no one or nothing could get in the castle. So then why was he so terrified of the Blue Fairy or the King? If nothing could get in then that included those two as well didn’t it? She supposed he didn’t want to be locked up forever, but really nothing made sense because Rumple only seemed to tell her half of what was going, if that much.

Eventually, she did drift off, somehow managing to get a couple hours of sleep before Rumple had Lumiere woke her at the break of dawn to have her dressed and ready to go on this foolish chore.

“What will you be disguised as?” Belle asked Rumple as she wrapped a warm wool shawl around her shoulders, preparing herself for this outing.

“That, I haven’t decided!” Rumple replied with a squeal as if this was a joking matter. He took a sip of his tea as he sat and watched her carefully.

Belle rolled her eyes and slipped her shoes on. “Then how shall I know it’s you?”

“Oh you’ll know it’s me my dear, it will be quite obvious.”

It was so impossible to get a straight answer out of that man. “And what if I’m discovered as a fraud?”

“You let me worry about that.”

Of course that was his answer. She should have known. She flashed him a fleeting scolding look, reprimanding him for basically sending her into this blind without any clue of what to do except somehow to miraculously convince this Fairy to release him from whatever hold she has on him.

The little wheel clicked by the door turning to the color indicating she was going to the capitol, going to the Palace that housed the royals.

Belle walked down the couple of steps and reached out for the doorknob, but it was then she froze. Scenes flashed before her eyes. Horrifying scenes of ogres and the black blobs. All she could imagine when she stepped out that door was one of those monsters waiting to pounce, grabbing her and ripping her to little pieces and feasting on her flesh. It was the most gruesome thing she could imagine, but after seeing what happened to the people of Avonlea she couldn’t push the images from her mind.

“Belle?”

She could feel Rumple standing behind her now, feeling his breath on her shoulder as he was so close. It should have made her calm down, it should have made her feel safe, but all she could do was imagine she was on the verge of being attacked.

“Belle?” It was Rumple’s voice again and this time it was accompanied by a hand on her shoulder. She jumped then; flipping around defensively, ready attack before anything else could. But she could see now it was only Rumple.

Tears threatened to fall again, pooling near the corners of her eyes. She answered Rumple before he had time to ask what was wrong. “How can you be sure there’s no ogres out there?”

“Belle, I’ve explained this-I used my magic to scour the area. There’s no ogres within one hundred miles. The capitol is far from Avonlea, far from the battlefields. You aren’t in for any surprises this trip.” He paused his face showing he couldn’t promise something like that. “Any ogre surprises I mean…”

Belle was far from any type of mood to joke. “Alright, no ogres, I believe you, but what about the…” She stopped herself then, having almost spilled the beans about the dark blob creatures. She still hadn’t told him about those and she wasn’t sure it was a good idea to. Every time she really thought about them…like really thought about them that headache would return. He would probably think more about it than he should. He would worry more than he should. It was just headaches after all; any one could get them.

“What about the what?” He eyed her suspiciously leaning forward a little, scrutinizing her every move.

Thinking quickly on her toes she came up with an answer that was a legitimate concern. “What about the Evil Queen? What if I run into her?”

He went into deep thought then, as if he hadn’t considered the witch might be an issue. And to Belle, she may very well not be. After all it wasn’t like she had seen the woman before, yet whenever her name was mentioned it did seem like she was this impending threat. After his confession that the Queen wanted a relationship with Rumple-something that every time she thought about made Belle’s blood boil-she really didn’t understand why the woman was so dangerous. All Rumplestiltskin had to do was say no. She couldn’t force him to be with her.

“Here.” Rumple held up his hand and his flesh flashed gold before returning to normal as a ring magically appeared between his thumb and forefinger. “Give me your hand.”

Belle watched him carefully, before obeying and holding out her left hand. When he took it, she could feel her heart leap and it began to beat even faster as he slipped the little ring on her index finger. She held it out to examine it. It was a small gold ring with a bright red round jewel at the end of it that sparkled even in the tiny bit of candlelight. It fit her hand absolutely perfectly as if it was always meant to be there.

Her eyes sparkled as they looked back up to meet his, but she was unsure about what all this meant. Her heart so wanted it to mean something special, something romantic, but her head told her not to wish for such impossible things.

“This will protect you from the Evil Queen among other things,” he explained.

Oh…it was for protection, nothing more. Her smile faltered a smidge as she felt a tinge of disappointment. Why did she even think it meant something more? She was so stupid. Over and over again she needed to remind herself that he would never want an ugly woman like her. He probably thought of her like a sister and that was why he came up with this plan. No. That was a stupid thought too. Why would he think of a maid as family? It was all for Bae, nothing more. Bae thought of her as family and that was enough reason for Rumple to keep her safe. He had explained that to her the night before and she needed to do well to remember it.

As if he sensed her disappointment, most likely because he saw it on her face or inferred from her quietness, Rumplestiltskin grabbed her hands and made her look back up at him.

“Hey, you can do this, don’t worry,” he assured her. “The ring will protect you-I personally will be there to protect you-and you will be able to convince that fairy scum to release me of my contract.”

She sighed. He couldn’t read her at all. That had not been what she was thinking of even though they were all valid points. He was however, holding her hands and she felt all tingly inside and a little uplifted. She didn’t want him to let go. Being this close to him had become very enjoyable to her and it felt as if he was showing her more and more affection with a little touch here or there. And there she was going again letting herself believe it wasn’t an act.

“Why do you hate the fairies so much?” she asked with genuine curiosity, but mainly as a distraction to try and stall him. It didn’t work.

Instantly he dropped her hands and his face soured. He backed away from her stepping back up the stairs to the main floor. “Hurry along now my dear, shan’t be wasting any more precious time.” He waved at her in a shooing motion, which infuriated her just a little bit. She wasn’t some stray he was trying to get rid of. Then again he could have just been teasing her. Or he could have just been trying to avoid going into detail about his past, avoiding telling her anything about him like always.

Well she could play his game. Grabbing the doorknob and turning it, she stepped one foot outside before turning around to address him one last time. “Perhaps you should be nicer to me Rumple. I am doing you a favor. After all you wouldn’t want me to tell the Blue Fairy the truth about your little plan now would you?” She flashed him a playful little smirk, waggled an eyebrow and then shut the door before he could have the last word.

For a brief moment she stood outside the door to the castle, which here in the capitol was just a door on the side of a brick building. She giggled. She found delight teasing him even if she wasn’t very good at it. Perhaps she should start doing it more often.

Composing herself, she decided to set off toward the palace to get this over with. But as she took her first step a piece of parchment appeared out of thin air, startling her as it floated down from above her, wide open with a large font so she could easily read it. “Leave the deals to me, dearie,” the large calligraphy read just before it hit the ground and burned away leaving no trace that it had ever been there in the first place.

Belle sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, looking to the sky as if she expected to see Rumple there. Yet, there was nothing but a few puffy clouds, the sun shining bright, and a couple of crows. They were cawing loudly as they flew overhead, a few of them landing on a nearby building and staring at her as if they were watching her.

“Oh he better not be disguised as a crow,” she said aloud with a huff. How could he protect her as a measly little crow? She guessed he could easily watch over her and see all around, but still…

Thinking of protection and disguise, Belle glanced down at the ring and then down at her clothes. He had given her a nicer dress to wear, one that screamed more wealth and less maid. It had a pretty pink linen skirt that fell just above her ankles with a cream linen shirt that had a ruffle around the neck. Over the shirt she wore a thick button down brocade vest, that matched many of the vests Rumplestiltskin wore when he was dressed as a wizard and not a man, but hers of course was much more feminine. The wool cream shawl wrapped around her helped protect her from the chill in the air, as there was a slight breeze in the city that day.

They were all very nice, but like everything else they meant nothing and Belle knew they didn’t suit her at all. She didn’t deserve to wear such gorgeous clothes. They were pretty things for pretty women and she was nothing of the sort.

The crow cawed loudly again pulling her from her thoughts. She huffed again and looked away, this time actually setting off on her mission, determined to get through this even though she knew it wasn’t going to work.

At least the little bit of excitement caused her to briefly forget about her fear of ogres and blob men, but as she made her way through the streets she began to find herself nervous once more. Every alley way she checked, every corner she peeked around fearing there was something hiding there waiting to get her. She took a deep breath and told herself to focus on something else-like trying to determine what Rumple had disguised himself as. Yes, that was a good decision and something she needed to know. Now if he had just told her, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but he had to make everything a game didn’t he? She had come to the conclusion that it was not a crow. She had not seen any since she left the castle and not one of those that were hanging around there followed her. He could have been some sort of bird though. It did make sense. He had magic and did fly. He had showed her that, once, and of course she had freaked out. But he had surprised her and she wasn’t in her right mind, what did he expect? Maybe if the time was ever right she could ask him to try and show her again.

When she came to the center of the city there was a large bronze statue and fountain right in the middle of a man with a beard on a horse. Belle had no idea who it could be, but she assumed it was either the current or a past king. Several pigeons perched on the statues head and a few on the cobblestone streets, cooing loudly as they scouted the ground for food. Could Rumple be a pigeon? No. If he wasn’t a crow then he wasn’t a pigeon. It was too simple for him. No, if he were a bird he would be something more sophisticated she was sure.

The town centre was hustling and bustling with people, most of them obscenely wealthier that the crowd she had encountered in Avonlea. Their brightly colored clothes made of lace and silks were nothing like she had ever seen before. Most of the men wore very fancy suits with either a tie or bow tie to match and some sort of hat a top their heads. The ladies wore hats too, adorned with bows, feathers, or small trinkets. Some women were dressed in more traditional clothing like Belle while others were in the modern wear with skirts that came above their knees and furs wrapped around their shoulders.

She didn’t understand that clothing very well, although she did recall wearing something similar in that dream she tried to forget, the one that made her blush every time she considered what her and Rumple were doing in one of his shops. It was causing her to also blush now as those images surfaced in her mind. Over and over again she needed to remind herself that it was only a dream, a dream she needed to forget.

A laugh from above caused her to forget about it and she glanced up to see a two manned metal flying contraption flap by with large wings. A man was driving and a woman held on to him from behind as he made the machine do a little swoop trick causing the woman to giggle uncontrollably like a little school girl with a crush.

She felt a pang in her heart. Her mind told her THAT could be Rumple, showing off and flirting with other women, but she desperately hoped not.

“Mreowww, meoooowwww.” Something brushed against the bottom of her legs caused her to startle.

It was just a kitty, purring and rubbing her ankles, looking at her to be petted or fed, she couldn’t be sure. Belle bent down and rubbed the grey cat on the head, the little thing purring even louder and rubbing back. “I really need to stop being so on edge,” she said a loud to herself and the kitty as if it could understand. Something occurred to Belle then and she narrowed her eyes at the cat who was so adamant about getting affection from her. “Rumple…is that you?”

The cat mewed again as if it was answering her, but then suddenly it squealed and darted off, faster than Belle could ever expect to chase it.

Straightening her back, Belle placed both hands on her hips. Well, no she supposed that wasn’t Rumple. Then what was? And what had scared off that cat? She turned around and instantly received her answer. Sitting right behind her was a little Dalmatian puppy. It stood on all fours and barked, as it’s long tail waggled back and forth happily.

Belle smirked and shook her head. “I should have known you would want to make an entrance,” she commented, knowing now this little puppy was her Rumplestiltskin. She adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and continued on down the streets. The dog followed obediently as if she was the master and had told him to come. “I’d like to know what you would have done if there hadn’t been a cat.”

The puppy barked twice. Belle rolled her eyes. Of course she couldn’t really understand what he was trying to say. “Couldn’t you at least pick something more useful? Or that sticks out a little less? I mean seriously Rumple, out of all the dogs, a Dalmation? I didn’t think you wanted to draw attention to us.”

And attention was just what they had drawn. As she scolded the dog, or Rumple perhaps, she didn’t notice the duo of dark blob men appear along side her along with a tall rounded black carriage accented with a beige door and trim. The top was adorned with intricate gingerbread and a single black curtain his the occupant inside.

“My my, what an adorable little dog.” A sickly sweet woman’s voice echoed from behind the red curtain of the carriage, calling Belle’s attention as she realized she was no longer alone. At first she only saw the carriage and not the creatures that were pulling it.

If she had been alone, she knew she would now be scolding Rumple for drawing attention, but she had to keep her mouth shut in front of this stranger of whom had yet to show her face.

“Too bad he makes company with such an ugly little bookworm.” The curtain moved aside then revealing a breathtakingly beautiful woman. She was dressed all in black with a silver necklace and embroidered cape to match the detailing on her carriage. Her hair was just as dark as her dress and her lips as red as an apple. A small hat with lace on the edge sat a top her head giving her a very polished and wealthy appearance. And for the first time without doubt Belle knew who this was. She did not even have to think or guess. It might have been her memory or it might have been just inference, but there was no mistaken. This was the Evil Queen.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfiction #howls moving castle #rdc

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