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sseniita · 2 months

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medical malpractice

cw injuries, whump-adjacent, malpractice of the medical kind (?)

To say the villain was bored was an understatement. They led a dreadfully, unequivocally, dangerously, dull life. They had achieved their goals months ago, enacting a plan years in the making and swiftly took control over the city. It was easier than expected, both the killing and the politics. Now, having everything they’ve ever wanted, they questioned why this desire in the first place?

They barely had fun with the various heroes who tried to stop them, pathetic attempts at most. Bombs, guns, punches, it all didn’t mean too much to a healer. Other villains called it ironic, the villain’s own mother insisted on the villain pursuing medicine- she didn’t seem to complain about her child’s career now that the villain had put her in a luxury home on some sunny island. Yes, the villain was bored; sat rotting away on the mayor’s chair- with absolutely nothing to do but polish their mask and listen to the protestors gathering on the steps of city hall.

Oh? The villain thought. They’re quite rowdy today.

Before the villain could kick their legs off the desk a group of heroes barged into the office, guns blazing, yelling obscenities at the villain. Charming. They put their mask on and skillfully and elegantly the villain took each of them down one by one. The heroes obviously hadn’t healed from their previous encounter with the villain. All the villain had to do was hit them in the same spot to send them calling a retreat and running out of the office, revealing a lonely individual in the doorway.

The villain didn’t break a sweat, setting their eyes on the new hero, practically trembling from fear. They stood frozen in perfect fighting form watching from the doorway.

“You're new.” The villain tilted their head curiously at the hero, recognizing the symbol they had haphazardly tied to their thigh. “Ah, I see.” The villain’s finger lazily spun a dagger they swung out of its holster. “You’re Superhero’s little protege. Oh! He would be so proud if he saw you there trembling in fear.”

The villain noticed they had struck a chord within the hero, dodging before the hero could land a hit. “Ooh, so close!”

The hero seemed to burst alive, they continued to try and try and try, shooting out powered rays, breaking windows, doors and wreaking havoc as they followed the villain through city hall. The villain, merrily laughing all the way, having the time of their life. They had avoided many close calls to certain death but with each one they dodged, they laughed harder, perhaps it was their first laugh in years. Their mask had fallen off long ago, but the villain couldn’t be bothered to care. The villain landed a good deal of hits on the hero, causing them to trail blood on the carpet, couches and anything else the hero was thrown into. The hero continued like this until the villain got bored and threw a punch to the hero’s ribs, knocking them down and leaving them unable to turn themselves to get up.

“Oh ho ho! You are fun! Lord, much more fun than your little friends who ran before anything got interesting.” The villain paced slowly towards the hero. The hero obviously tried to hide their whimpers of pain, but a kick to their ribs was enough to make them howl. “Awe, you overdid it, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

If looks could kill, the villain would have been six feet under; the hatred in the little hero’s eyes was intoxicating to the villain. If the villain didn’t know any better; they would have thought themselves in love.

“You’re short. How old are you? Superhero died…” they pursed their lips in thought, “2 years ago? You were a teenager, then. Hmm, 21, 22?” they finally said.

“You killed them!” the hero spat.

“That I did. What’s your deal, hm? Avenging your fallen master, are you? How mature.”

“You’re a monster!” The villain tutted.

“No, no. Enough with the insults. You seem to be above that, my little firework.” The villain used their foot to turn the hero onto their back, they crouched down and took hold of the hero’s cheeks; squishing them.

“You’re cute.” the villain smiled at the hero, almost kindly. Before the hero could spit out another curse, the villain squeezed harder to shut them up. “Your mission is admirable. If not a little annoying. But this has been the most fun I’ve had since this godforsaken city surrendered.” There were shouts from outside. Backup.

With a sigh, the villain smiled at the hero. “I’ll cut you a deal. You get better, and I’ll give you another shot at me.” They winked, much to the hero’s horror.

“You broke my ribs.” The hero groaned. In response, the villain took this as an invitation to feel up the hero’s chest.

“Only… hmm. About 13 or so of them.” The hero coughed up some blood. “Maybe more. Wish I could help but…” they stuttered. Looking at the hero; hunched over on the floor, their smartest idea popped into their head. “Oh. My, my, my, firework. You just might be the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“You’re sick.” They growled, trying to crawl up and away.

“Yes, yes. Come on, stand up.” They grabbed the hero by the arm, enjoying their shouts of pain and the way they tried- and failed- to wring out of the villain’s grasp. The villain wrapped their arm around the hero and set them on a couch, ignoring their shouts to let them go.

The villain was called a healer, but this knowledge wasn’t widely known. They were known for their more terrifying ability to control any biological body. They had the ability to kill with a touch; control blood pressure, suppress hormones, destroy senses, manipulate memories. They used this ability wisely and sparingly, preferring to use their knowledge on their human body to always have the advantage. This power was very misunderstood between the heroes, they never cracked the code, and they would have never believed it to reach such lengths.

“Look at me.” The hero was very obviously terrified. Confused at the sudden mercy- if you could call it that- they shut their eyes tight, remembering all the warnings about the fearsome villain. Their mind went a million miles a second- trying to find a way out. They has seen the villain’s face, they had a chance to get an advantage.

“You and I are going to get along swiftly. But I need you at your peak. Constantly.” They smiled, not unlike the hero though the devil would.

“I’ll kill you.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to see you try.”

“Once I heal I’ll get you, I promise.” they snapped, feverishly staring daggers into the villain’s eyes.

“Yes, of course. But that’ll take too long don’t you think?”

“Oh don’t worry, no amount of time will stop me- I’ll keep coming back until you’re dead.” They threatened. The wicked grin on the villain’s only grew, the hero began to feel a pit in their stomach- why weren’t they dead yet they thought.

“Well, I’m not the patient type.” They set their hands on either side of the hero’s head, sticking their thumbs into their temples. “Don't worry though. I’m sure you’ll heal in a jiffy, my little firework.”

The hero’s vision grew blurry and their head went fuzzy. The villain’s face swirled until it was barely recognizable, a final attempt to remember their face came in a hazy image of the Cheshire cat.

///

Hero’s mission to defeat the villain had been futile. They’d discuss it daily with other heroes and planned raids once a week. Hero began to wonder if the villain knew they were coming, month after month the villain was always prepared. The villain had seemed to take a personal grudge against them, never holding back. But no matter what, the hero was always ready to go back. Since the first time they met, the villain was an elusive, mysterious being, and the hero was committed to destroying that illusion.

The hero would return after a siege bloody and bruised, aching and sprained. They lost count how many times the villain had broken their arm, leg, cracked some ribs, scraped some skin. They were barely recognizable without their arm in a sling or a bruise on their cheek. Even when life seems unbearable they knew the healer would always be there for them.

They had found the healer months back and they joined the team immediately. They were a godsend. 4 week healing times would be shortened to a weekend, not only were they incredibly useful and talented in their position, they were charming too. They carried a smile wherever they went and seemed to have taken a liking to the hero- their most frequent patient.

Limping and trailing blood, the hero made their way towards the infirmary inside the base. Weakly opening the frosted glass doors, their eyes met the healer's, seated at their desk. Hero smiled at them and promptly plopped down on the examination table.

“Well. That was quick. Did you miss me?” The healer rolled their chair towards the hero, setting their hands casually on the hero’s knees.

“Yep. Even broke my arm just to see you.” The chimed back. The healer chuckled, standing up and examining their arm.

“Hmm. Nothing major.” They grabbed their stethoscope, placing it on their chest. The hero didn’t need instruction to begin breathing methodically for them. The whole examination could have been done blindfolded and without a word. An action so familiar it was almost comforting. The hero would lean into the healer’s hands against their limbs, warming with the healer's power, the ache of which felt like a much needed massage. The healer spoke in a soft, instructing voice, something the hero only ever got from Superhero. The dull grief of losing the Superhero was still there, but the healer seemed to heal their broken soul as they did their broken bones.

“You’re all set.” The healer said, power fading from their palms.

“How much longer till I get back out there, Doc?”

“Give yourself a day or two.” They said, wiping away the blood on hero's nose as they would the snot on a child, the hero couldn’t help but be embarrassed. With a sigh, the hero started.

“Great, so in less than a week I’ll be back. Right at square one.”

“Oh, don’t think like that. You're close I know it.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so. The other heroes are starting to have doubts.”

“Don’t listen to them.” The healer grabbed the hero’s jaw softly, caressing it with their thumb. The hero did all they could to not melt into their touch. “You’re so extraordinary. So special. None of those heroes even come close to matching your power, you know that, right?” They pulled a strand of hero's hair from their face. "Superhero would be so proud."

The hero blushed. “You’re just saying that because I single handedly keep you busy; I know how bored you get here.” The healer smiled back, leaning in to give the hero a peck on the forehead.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my favourite patient.”

The hero failed in not melting under the healer’s gaze, they were smiling ear to ear.

“Can’t I just stay here, forever?” They said in a hazy, drunk sort of way. “I’ve forgotten how it feels to have bones that work for longer than a few days.” The healer chuckled.

“Maybe someday, but for now, you have to get back out there and give the villain a fight they’ll never forget, don’tcha firework?” The healer winked and the hero could barely contain the butterflies in their stomach.

#hero x villain #enemies to lovers #original fiction #writing #criticism welcome #villain x hero #hero and villain #whump #hero lost their memory #if that didn't get thru to yall #lmao #toxic villain lol

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domoz · 6 months

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And finally, for day 7 (Promt: Free day/requited love) of @madatobiweek, to pair with the fic Struck Iron Fireworks

#doodletag #naruto blog for naruto things #madatobi #madatobiweek2023 #SOMEONE REMIND ME TO LIMIT MYSELF NEXT TIME I DO AN EVENT LMAO

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moonah-rose · 3 months

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Fav ghosts headcannons?

Too many to name! This show has really given me brain rot and just when I was starting to think the hyperfix was ending.

Okay some random ones.

As ghosts don't need to breathe, sometimes they will just go to the lake and lay on the bottom to watch the fish, or Thomas try to drown himself, or Kitty doing her rendition of Part Of Your World. As they also don't feel much pain, another fun activity is daring each other to jump off the roof. Fanny refuses as she does this enough every morning.

Only four people knew about Mary's trial before she had her big talk about it in S4; Robin, Annie, Humphrey and Alison. Robin is rarely tactful with everyone but as he was the one to watch her die and the first ghost she met he's always been sweet with her about it, Humphrey has talked her through many sleepless nights and of course she relived it all to Annie who was more determined to help unleash her feminine rage. Alison being the last one encouraged her to tell the others (Alison had to take a moment to cry after though because Christ that was awful). Likewise Captain also told Alison the story about Havers before he told the others as it was easier to confide in one person, and she said to just tell the others when he was ready as Mary did but it took him a bit longer to work up the courage until he thought he was literally at death-death's door.

Robin didn't just figure out his ghost power with the invention of electricity, he's always had a connection to thunder storms but rarely tried to practice anything with it as they were part of his ptsd, and sometimes when he got emotional lightning always seemed to strike closer to him. Often times during a big storm other ghosts would find him cowering somewhere like a frightened dog (though ironically he loves fireworks). It's why saving Mike was such a big deal, he had no idea what being struck by lightning again as a ghost would mean, if it would hurt or destroy him but did it anyway (you're welcome, Mike and Alison!).

Julian is Mia's favorite uncle - no of course she loves them all but he has the advantage of being able to text and a betting account he can spend on nothing except her, and he might spoil her a lot to make himself feel better about missing out on his own daughter but they do develop a cute bond even if Alison isn't always sure he's the best influence for her daughter she doesn't come between them.

One I've mentioned before but it really is my favorite, Kitty being able to see Robin, Annie, Humphrey and Mary when she was growing up and having them be her imaginary friends, which they loved until Eleanor teased her for it and forced her to "grow up" and she lost her Sight. It broke all their hearts and they hated not being able to protect Kitty from Eleanor's mental abuse or let her know she was there. Yeah that flashback of their father taking Eleanor to the ball and leaving Kitty to cry? They're all sat around her wanting to give her a hug, I can't unsee it. I wrote a whole fic going into this I love it so much.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts headcanon #robin the caveman #mary guppy #julian fawcett

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 6 months

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 158- Enemy Within

Summary: Jace and Raven give in to their feelings. Clover is reborn. Garrett revamps. He makes another shocking discovery and faces a face he never thought he'd see again. The vampire needs aid and Josie feels it. A warlock lord is scorned and acts accordingly. Catherine and Josie clash. Bard has bad news and Josie reels over it. Unexpected visitors arrive. A man is saved. A happy reunion takes place.

*Chapter Warnings* smut, language, angst, mentions of child loss,

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Raven, Jace, Garrett, Kate, Josephine, Lola, Charles, Catherine, Narcisse, Bard, Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir, Legolas

Chapter word count: 6,515

The spontaneous kiss that Raven stole from the more than willing warlock, tasted and felt just like everything the dhampir of long scarlet strands imagined it would be. Although Jace had recently devoured mounds of greasy fried food, his scent of clover, that ironically used to be Raven's name, was the only thing prominent in his teasing tongue as his mouth made meticulous love to hers and in the highly anticipated moment of mutual desire, fireworks ignited and true love could no longer be denied.

Although Raven had recently realized she had inherited the blood rage gene from her father, the late vampire Craven, for the first time in her 20 years of locked up life, she had finally felt peace. The only fire that now burned inside of her was set by the rising arsonist concealed in Jace's black leather pants that pressed firmly into her core.

None of this was planned by either of the love struck pair. Both had been caught up in Jace's emotional moment of facing the truth that you were not his sister, but merely his cousin. Although you were still his relation, Jace felt it wasn't the same as the bond with a sibling, especially one who shared the putrid parentage of the notorious goblin King and wicked warlock, Jareth. Instead, you were truly the daughter of Jace's uncle Julian, the white warlock per se, a 7th son, now compromised by Jareth's mind conditioning to be evil like him. From what Raven informed Jace of, you had a real full blooded brother, a twin you did not know about that possibly even shared your copper locks who was also fathered by Julian and birthed of your malevolent mother Caroline, so why would you need Jace now?

It broke Jace, for he had searched for you most of his life in hopes of having a real family and when he had finally found you, although the meeting was brief, Jace had come to love you, an emotion that was forbidden by his parents, Jareth and the evil witch Queen Ravenna. An emotion he had now come to face as he released Raven's lips and gazed into her electric blue eyes. An emotion she too now faced.

"J..Jace..I...I..." Raven stuttered as he placed her hand upon his stubbly haired cheek.

Jace softly smiled at her touch and her out of character skittish demeanor, for Raven was as fiery tempered as a redhead was perceived to be, times a thousand. He then did something also out of character for himself as his mismatching orbs of blue and brown danced with hers.

"I love you Clover."

Normally, Raven would have barked at anyone calling her by her true name, but when Jace said it, it finally felt right because he saw the her, the real woman that she was, something no one had ever seen or even cared to try and see.

"I...I love you too...Jace. I..."

Jace took her words away with another kiss and in the heat of the moment, Clover began to lift his shirt up. Jace pulled back, breathing heavily against her lips and stroked her cheek.

"Are...are you sure we should...do this? I mean...after...after what happened to you?" Jace asked with deep concern, referring to her very recent child loss, courtesy of the Elvenking.

"I...I don't want to hurt you Clover." he continued with the most sincere eyes she had ever witnessed. No one ever cared of they hurt her.

"Jace...Matthew healed me...remember? Yes...I'm sure I want to do this. You have no idea how much. I've never wanted anything...anyone so much. Please Jace...make love to me."

Clover was whisked off of her feet and carried in Jace's brawny arms to his candlelit bedroom where they both removed the other's clothing, baring their bodies and their souls to one another with not a single ounce of feeling self-conscious....and then those bodies laid upon the bed and became one.

Jace kissed Clover deeply and passionately before gently pushing his solid girth into her.

Her gasp was rightfully incredulous, for Jace felt much larger than what he appeared to be when he stood before her moments ago, and to her, he looked quite huge then. Jace's bellowing moan upon entry was also validated, for Clover was tight, warm and soaking wet, so much so that he filled her completely in one slow slide.

Clover's fingers laced through Jace's as they began to move in perfect unison. Slowly at first, for Jace was ready to burst at the seams of his deprived cock. He always had many opportunities. Wherever he went, women practically threw themselves at him, but he would never give in to the torturous temptations. Being old fashioned at his young age of only 22, Jace remained celibate, waiting for the one he knew would come one day. He just never in his wildest dreams, imagined it would be a half witch, half vampire. Sure, he had a human nature inside of him and would occasionally pleasure himself when the ache became too much, but that is as far as it went, for Jace was a virgin until this very moment.

Even so, Clover was none the wiser because Jace certainly knew what he was doing, moving in ways that brought her to multiple orgasms, ones that snuck up on her out of nowhere which she had never experienced before, not even with the extremely well equipped Elvenking.

Clover's last climax was so intense that Jace could not contain his any longer. His pulses were vigorous and his grunts tumultuous as the two released together.

The waxing gibbous moon of Manhattan glowed through the old abandoned church's window by Jace's bed as he and Clover basked in their own afterglow, kissing and talking until eventually, the smitten warlock and dhampir drifted off to sleep, snuggled tightly in each other's arms.

In the land of middle earth, the sun still lighted the way of the cold December mid-afternoon, including Peter's old cabin where Garrett remained, replenishing himself of bad men's blood that he had tried depriving himself of and failed miserably at. The hallucinations had became too much to bear and he had made the decision that he no longer wished to die and no longer wished to stay away from you, which Amara had helped him come to that decision for her own selfish purposes that Garrett was not aware of. That and the fact that he knew Narcisse had finally had his way with you and Garrett knew the warlock lord was not what you wanted. The head over heels vampire would return to you, beg you for your forgiveness for leaving you yet once again and explain to you why he lost control on Stephane's warlock guards in such a gruesome manner.

It had only been a few days and a few days too many it was for his crazy in love un-beating heart and he needed to tap into you, to hear your voice, to see you in his mind but he couldn't do that in a drunken and starved stupor, although little did he know, you had heard him, had even dreamt of him, briefly believing him to be dead by his own hand.

Now that Garrett was feeling somewhat recharged, he began to gather his only belonging, his acoustic guitar and then he opened the box again that he found under the floorboards, now knowing it belonged to you. Ignoring the sterling silver ribbon ring and tarot cards, he focused once again on the photo of you and Sarah in your teen years. He still wasn't sure if he had hallucinated the night before when he saw the young blonde move her lips and heard her speak, asking him to help her. He sat and stared at her smiling image for a good five minutes and when nothing happened, Garrett then believed his lack of sustenance and overindulgence in whiskey brought on the creative animation.

His then found his eyes locked onto your then olive colored ones and he swore he felt a thump in the cold lifeless heart beneath the invisible protection mark Amara's faerie goon had given him on his chest. How could he be dead, yet feel so much pain? It was Garrett's undying love for you, plain and simple.

Garrett shut the box, tucked it under his arm and headed out with the guitar case swinging in his other hand. Snow had fallen in large quantities there in the open wilderness and he knew he was going to have to trek through it for the time being until he regained his full strength to fly. He stood outside of the cabin and decided he would try to reach out to you before he departed, nervously bouncing as he did so. To hear your voice again would weaken him more than any other force could.

"Josephine. Hey little one. Can you hear me?"

"If...if you're still pissed at me, at least say so. Please. So I can hear your voice. Just let me know you're ok. Something..anything Josephine. Tell me that you hate me even. it wouldn't be the worst thing you ever said. Just don't tell me that it's over."

And then there was the sound of silence that also weakened him, making him want to die all over again. Garrett knew it was his own damn fault. He promised you so many times he would never leave you and every single time, he broke that promise so how could he blame you?

His eyes glowed yellow of sadness and pain as he lowered his head and began to walk.

"I love you my little one. Alwa.......Ugggggghhhhhh!!!!!"

Garrett was blindsided and knocked through the air by something of jet fueled force. He plowed on his back through the snow like a train at full speed, sending the white powder bursting out on each side of his fifty foot long slide, leaving a hefty trench behind him when he came to a rest.

"What the FUCK!!!" Garrett roared as he whipped up to his feet, his eyes now a burning red as they darted to every inch of the wide open space.

All was silent, but he could smell it. A vampire, for nothing else had such strength, speed and invisibility. Normally, the scent of his kind would have been pleasant to him and most likely he would have recognized the identity as well, but this...this was nothing he had ever smelled before. It was like burning flesh as if it had risen from the gates of hell.

As he cautiously made his way back to the cabin, he found your box, shattered into splinter like pieces with the contents scattered about.

"What the fuck??" he once again recited, but in a whisper as he caught sight of a violet hue in the snow reflecting a glare from the sun.

Garrett swiped up the photo and tarot cards and placed them into his pocket. After that, he slipped the silver ribbon ring onto his pinky finger for safe keeping since it was so small and then he reached for the shiny object. Once he brushed the icy powder off of it, an amethyst pendant was revealed.

"Where the hell did you come from?" he asked as he began to look all around again at the wooden shards from the broken box. The only in tact remnant was the bottom of the box. As he picked it up, Garrett noticed the underneath side had been knocked loose in the hit and inside was an empty compartment just big enough to hold such an item.

Garrett studied the purple stone for a moment, then placed it inside his coat pocket with the other items. In his distraction, he had momentarily forgotten of the danger that lurked about him.

Turning to reclaim his guitar, that danger appeared before him, completely undetected by his senses until it was too late to react.

"Hello lover. Miss me? It's been a long time."

"K..Kate?? What the fu.."

The once truly dead vampiress and ex mate of Garrett's, bolted towards him at lightning speed. In his utter shock, he forgot about the shock she possessed as he raised his hand to stupidly grab her. His hand lit up a strobe light as a massive electric current zapped through his entire body, sending him straight to his knees, bellowing in pain.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Garrett's scream echoed through the mountains as she clung to him, peering down with a wicked grin at his once again yellow eyes until he passed out.

"Garrett??!!!!" you shouted as you sprung from your slumber.

"Josie?? What is it? Were you dreaming of him again??" Lola asked as she rushed over to you after laying a sleeping Leean down in her cradle.

"Do you smell that???" you panted in panic as your nose whiffed the air.

Lola lifted her nose to do the same, then tilted her head at you with confused eyes.

"I don't smell anything. Well except Leean's sweet scent from when I was holding her? Was it cotton candy that you once called it?"

"Something is burning...and..and so is my left arm. and...and, what the hell? So is my...birthmark." you explained as you rubbed it.

A birthmark that consisted of three small moles on your lower back that formed a triangle. The one your mother pointed out to you when you had first saw her again at Lestat's.

"Didn't you have a dream last night that Garrett was burning and you thought he was dead?? But you said later that you knew he was alive??"

"I...yes I...did but..."

You paused and thought back on the dream. It was Garrett's left arm that you saw on fire but...it didn't make any sense because you later heard him singing to you which proved he was ok. But still, this smelled of burnt flesh.

"Something's wrong Lola. Just like I thought before and had went to look for him until I fell down that damn hole and now everything's foggy. I need to go back. I have to find him. What if Harker has found him????"

You got up and began to pace. "Garrett??? Can you hear me??? Please, tell me you're alright??"

There was only silence, until Lola spoke.

"How is it that you have this connection with a vampire to hear each other's thoughts?"

"It's...it's a long complicated story. We um...we share each other's blood. I...I drank his before and I took my shield down and invited him into my mind and then once, I let him drink my blood to save him."

"Ohhhh. You mean, like you share Thranduil's blood and could hear him too?"

The mention of your King's name was a punch to your gut. You had come to the conclusion that the feeling would never go away just as your yearning for him would not as well.

"I...I'm sorry Josie. I can see I have upset you more so than you already are."

"It's alright Lola. Yes, you are correct. Thranduil and I could hear each other and speak to each other's minds. His magic that flows through my blood is what kicked mine into gear. If only...I could hear him again. In my dreams or even if I have to hallucinate from the dark forest's poison to do it, although I still swear that was real. That he came to me from the other side to save me. I just...I feel him slipping further and further away from me Lola and I'm scared one day I will lose all sight and feeling of him permanently."

A knock on the door interrupted you conversation, which saddened you, for talking about Thranduil helped you to keep him alive.

"It's me. Charles. Can I come in please!!?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"As soon as you opened the door, Charles was pushing his way inside, seemingly quite anxious.

"Charles, what is it? Has Bash taken a turn for the worst??"

"He's fine, but my father has gone completely mad with what he's done!!

"Ok slow down, slow down. Is Stephane alright??"

"Physically! But he needs to be in a camisole for crazy people like my mother should be. Plus he's on a war path with Haldir and.."

"Wait what???!! Has he done something to him???" you frantically asked of the Lorien elf who laid one hell of a kiss on you only hours earlier that Narcisse had walked in on.

"Well of course he is Josie. He's Haldir. But that's besides the point and the least of my worries. My father brought my mother into this castle!!!"

"Ok...yes, Charles, I know he said she intentionally hurt herself out in the dark dungeon and had to go deal with that, but...I...I did not know he would allow her back inside???"

"No one did. He just went and did it. She's tied to a bed in the infirmary but anyone in their right mind, which clearly he is not, knows that nothing good will come of this! He claims he did it for me because she's my mother and she will be returned to the dungeon when she is healed. Why?? So she can just do it all over again?? She may be no witch like you, but she had that black magic book of yours once upon a time and I guarantee you she recalls every evil word inside of it and he knows this!! Which makes me wonder if she's done something to him again for him to be such an arse! I told him, by God's bones he will regret this and now I am being punished for swearing. Do you see now??"

"Alright, alright. Yes. I understand why you may think he has been cursed again, but I honestly think it is something else. Where is Stephane now?"

You were referring to the kiss Narcisse witnessed with the Marchwarden that you didn't feel Charles needed to know about. It wasn't planned. Haldir instigated it in a heated argument between you and him, with it understandably being over Stephane and your relations with him the night prior, something else the young warlock didn't need to be informed of.

"I last saw him go into the infirmary. I will not go see her! She will work some kind of magic on me to fee sorry for her. She is a liar with a black heart. Look what she had done to my sister, her own daughter who just had a child! She don't care about us. We are and always have been just a pawn in her twisted games."

"Speaking of Claude, how is she doing? Is tour father really going to banish her and the baby from here? I mean, like you said, your sister was taken advantage of by Catherine, used would be a better word. A pawn just as you said."

"He better not or I will go too! How can he keep the real evil here and let a young new mother go homeless??? All for me??? I don't want my mother in this castle, let alone anywhere near me!"

"I understand your frustrations, for I feel it too. We all do. I will do my bet and try to get through to Stephane, for I am the one he is upset with. I will try and make this right Charles. I am so sorry. I hope your punishment is nothing too severe??"

"Stable duty. Shoveling horse droppings. I might as well be cleaning a shitwell way in the city for the stables are just the same as any pissing alley I've had the unpleasantry of smelling. This should be my mother's duties!"

You and Lola had to both contain your giggles, for the affluent boy certainly did not find any of it amusing. So much so, that he was swearing again, the reason for his punishment in the first place, but you would never rat him out and Charles knew it.

"I agree but your father would never allow her near the horses again after what she put Arion through and I can not blame him for that."

Charles scoffed. "Well, I better be going. The shit isn't going to shovel itself. Oh...and before I forget, the bowman...Bard is it? He wishes a visit with you when you have some free time. I spoke with him and Haldir earlier in the dining hall who luckily kept my father and the elf from going to blows."

"Ugh, so much for their too good to be true truce...thank you Charles. Yes, his name is Bard. He arrived a few hours ago with a shipment and I've asked him to stay for the time being due to the threat of Harker. Speaking of...maybe you shouldn't be out in the stables right now. Stay inside and I will go speak my concerns to Stephane."

"Yes my lady. I like your plan better." he grinned and then smiled sweetly at Lola, his crush, and quickly departed.

As you neared the infirmary door, you could hear the squabbling muffles between the warlock lord and Catherine. Your heart came up into your throat at the thought of facing either of them, but mostly Stephane, for you didn't know how you were going to make him understand what he witnessed. You didn't even know how to handle things with Haldir for that matter because the kiss was rather intense, shaking up some buried feelings of the past that you had for the Lothlorien elf.

You had become caught in another web of your own spinning and didn't know how to get out of it. If Garrett were here, or could hear you...you would tell him the code between you to come take you away, just for a little while. Just say "the word", you imagined his voice saying. Those two little words that he asked you to say at Lestat's to get you away from Caroline after finding out your mother and Thranduil had past relations. You cringed all over again at the thought of that and what Caroline had done to Haldir as well. What hadn't the wicked vampire witch done to those you loved? You were glad she was gone.

With your acquired skills of great stealth, you slowly turned the door handle and cracked it open just enough to see inside and in your clear view was a very splenetic Stephane and in his blue eyed death glare path was a very cross Catherine, chained to a bed, giving back what Narcisse was dishing out.

"All I want is my son!!! You cannot keep him from me!" Catherine shouted in rage as she struggled against her iron shackles.

"He is MY son that YOU kept from me once or did you forget about that little tidbit?? I don't have to keep him from you. You have done a splendid job of alienating him all on your own with your wickedness. Look what you have done your daughter! I almost feel sorry for the young girl for falling victim to your evil and I may just offer her some mercy because she is very remorseful because unlike you I have a heart"

Catherine bellowed in sarcastic laughter. "A heart??? Is that what that little girl in there that you're fucking told you? You have no heart no more than I do if you want to get technical. Yours is as dead as the bloody vampire's that your Josephine is in love with, you blind fool!"

"Oh Catherine, none of this is even about Charles. You couldn't care less about him and would be the first to use him as your pawn just as you did Claude! You used him against his faux father all to inherit his fortune and look how that turned out for you. This is alllll about your jealousy."

Just when you wanted to hear the rest of the conversation, you heard voices at the end of the hall and you didn't want to be caught eavesdropping on the warlock lord of Dorwinion in is own castle, so you scurried off to hide around the corner and decided to wait until Stephane left so you could have some words with Catherine yourself about Garrett and what she had done to him. Stephane and Haldir too.

"Jealousy??? YOU speak to me of jealousy. HA! Do not forget what I know and what exists in regards to that knowledge. It has jealousy WRITTEN all over it. All I have to do is sing like a canary and your happy little playhouse will crash and burn!"

"And you know what will happen if you do that. All bets are off and you'll either be my dinner or Blaze's and you should pray that it is the Bengal tiger to do it, for he will not waste any time ripping you limb from limb. His hunger instinct for meaty blood will supersede his hatred for you where is the white tiger will drag your death out slowly, playing with you, taunting you, torturing you just like a cat does with their prey, for the only hunger he possesses in regards to you is of pure loathing. If you sing, you die."

"If you kill me, you will never know where that letter is. It is only a matter of time before your little Queen finds it and learns the truth that her King is alive and well, or at least was, could be really dead now for all we know and she will be more than curious to know how a letter to her from Thranduil, made it's way here while in his captivity with Jareth. I may find her despicable and quite the little whore but she is far from stupid. Can you imagine what she will do to you when she knows you kept something of such magnitude from her?? You'll be eating and choking on her dust while she goes to save her King. Oh my, and if he is now dead...well, I think you can see how much worse it will be for you when she could have had the chance to save him."

"ENOUGH!! Who's to say she won't think it was you who kept it from her out of spite?? I mean, YOU did hide the letter, not me. You cannot prove that I knew and who do you think she will believe?? This ends now. I will not be blackmailed by anyone let alone the likes of you! This has gone on for far too long. You will tell me where it is or face the consequences."

"No." Catherine simply said, infuriating Narcisse more, if that were even possible. "Go ahead, kill me, lock me up, gag me. Do what you will. Yes, you could easily slither your way out of it like the snake you are BUT... it all ends the same. Josie learns the truth and she will be a gone girl. But if you kill me, you are the one who will face the consequences of losing your son too. Eventually your fairytale will come to an end because you will never know where that incriminating letter is or when it will magically turn up....and believe me...it will"

"Then you leave me no choice. I will torture it out of you." he growled through his teeth and stormed out.

"YOU WILL NEVER KNOW!! I WILL TAKE IT TO MY GRAVE! DO YOU HEAR ME STEPHANE NARCISSE!!!!"

You gasped at the slamming of the door and planted your body flat against the wall around the corner as Narcisse zipped by, too pissed off to even notice your scent with his extremely keen nose. Although you hadn't heard all of their words, you certainly heard Catherine's last ones. What won't he ever know and what would she take to her grave?

Once the coast was clear, you tip toed to the door and used your magic to unlock it.

"Well now, look what the cat dragged in. I told you there was a rat problem did I not?? Find any in your bath lately?" Catherine snarked as she glared you down.

"I could say the same about you regarding Blaze. Your hair alone looks something of a rat's nest and...what on earth is that god awful smell?" you riposted with a crinkled nose at the dirtied and bloodied woman.

"It's a combination of horse droppings and tiger breath, but you knew that. Don't think for one minute I have forgotten your relishing of me locked up in that wooden wagon with that wretched beast. How dare you come in here to mock me once more!"

"How dare YOU to play the victim of putting yourself right where you are! You poisoned Haldir! and you placed black magic spells on Stephane and Garrett! And why?? All to hurt me when I had never done anything to you!!"

"Have you ever once considered that YOU are the cause of all of this tragedy!??"

"All was well here until YOU came along. Why couldn't you have just went back to where you came from?? I even offered you riches to do so but you couldn't do it. You just had to stay and take all that belonged to me! Even my son!! Tell me, are you spreading your legs for him too???"

"You are sick Catherine, beyond measure. Your jealousies and insecurities have gotten you where you are, not me! You're losing your son because he sees what you have become. I spoke to him earlier and he does not want you here. He's afraid of you. He warned me that nothing good will come of it. You're an embarrassment to him and to Claude! Even to yourself! Look at you!"

You grabbed a standing mirror and turned it to her. "You're pathetic Catherine and insane. Plunging your head into a wooden door all so you could make your way inside here where no one wants you! At least the tiger does."

"You vampire bitch!! If I get out of these restraints and I'll show you just how insane I am!!"

"Now now Catherine. I could end you with the twinkle of my nose so I'd watch your words. I'd watch your step too because if I had my way, i would do to you what Stephane should have done a very long time ago. If you EVER try to hurt anyone I love again, I will turn you into a shrew and lock you in a room with Merlin. TTFN!"

You shut the door behind you and then relocked it, then headed to find Stephane.

"Oh it may be ta ta for now little witch, but you and I will meet again and you will rue the day you ever crossed me." Catherine snarled.

You made your way to the dining hall which was the direction Narcisse had been headed, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, you found Bard there where Charles had said he was, standing at and peering out the window, looking rather grim.

"Bard?? Is...everything alright?"

The bowman slowly turned around and smiled, which you knew was forced, for you had come to know him quite well.

"Ahhh, Queen Josephine. You are awake and feeling better now I see?"

"I am yes, and please...just call me Josie. There's no need to be formal, for I feel like no queen anymore. If anything, I am the one who should be formal by addressing you as you are, the King of Dale."

"Yes my lady..or Josie I..I mean." he softly replied, seemingly distracted as he glanced at the window again.

"Bard...something's happened? What...what is it? Where's Haldir? Charles said he was here and you had to do damage control once again between he and Stephane."

Bard turned back to you with a somber expression and could not look you in the eyes.

"Bard?? Tell me what's happened!"

"Lord Narcisse. He...he ordered Haldir to vacate his lands."

"WwwwwHAAT???!! Ok, no no no. Where is Haldir??? He..he wouldn't leave me. Not now. He never leaves me."

"I am sorry my lady. Haldir had no choice. He was escorted out by the guards about an hour ago and he...was not permitted to say goodbye."

"Oh my god, this is NOT happening!! He cannot be out there alone with Harker sniffing around! Did you see where Narcisse went?? I am going to give him a piece of..."

"My lady. Haldir...he asked me to tell you to let it be, for he will not be far. I assume he will go to the city, for as you said, he would not leave you."

"LET...IT...BE??? Oh I will NOT let it be! This is not acceptable. I don't care if this is his realm because this is horseshit!!"

"Josie...I have something for you."

Bard reached in his pocket and pulled out the life saving emerald pendant that Haldir had been wearing.

"He...asked me to give this to you. He said you you are the one meant to have it for what's to come."

Standing in wide eyed shock, you took the necklace into your hand.

"Why...Jesus, why would he take it off when he is out there alone?? He needs it more than I do. What am I supposed to do with it?? I don't even have the other runes or know where they are for that matter! Well, except my moonstone but...never mind."

You had to stop yourself, for you had secretly given it to Garrett to hide and no one, not even Bard could know it's whereabouts.

"Bard, I need to go find Stepha..."

A tumultuous commotion came from outside by the bay. As you ran to the window, a group of warlock guards were surrounding some small wooden boats that had arrived and then you saw a man being hoisted out and put on a cot, appearing to be injured. When the crowd parted to carry him through, you then saw Aragorn and Gimli climbing from the boats, looking like they had been through one hell of a storm.

"Oh my god! Aragorn!" you shouted and ran out with Bard quickly following.

You halted to watch the unconscious injured man be carried past you, covered in blood. A man of reddish hair that you had never seen before who was extremely pale and his injuries appeared to be quite severe.

"My lady!!" Aragorn shouted as he raced up to you. "We need your assistance quickly. Please. The man, he is my good friend. Will you heal him, for I cannot. He is dying."

"Of course! Take him to an empty room!" you commanded the guards.

You, the King of Dale and the King of Gondor followed them inside with Gimli remaining outside, which you thought was odd. Did Narcisse not welcome dwarves in Dorwinion?

"His name is Boromir." Aragorn informed you as they placed him on a bed and then exited.

"What happened to him? To all of you? Your clothes are torn to shreds and your arm, you're hurt too. Did Harker find you?"

"No. It was not him but someone of great similarity. Do not worry for me. It is just a scratch. We were attacked by orcs on our way here. Jareth's man made orcs, a breed like no other."

"Wait...Jareth? We..we heard of the dragon invasion on his kingdom. So he...he survived? and why...were you coming here??" you asked, still believing that Lestat was responsible for the fiery attack to avenge the loss of his fortress.

"Josie, respectfully, you know Jareth cannot be killed and..."

Aragorn had to choose his words wisely, for he knew he could not relay to you that Thranduil was alive. That was Legolas's decision.

"Jareth sent the orcs to track us, most likely in his revenge for the war at Lestat's. We were coming here because Boromir has imperative information for you."

"For me? but...I..I don't even know him?"

Boromir groaned and coughed, beginning to spit up blood.

"Oh my. Lay still. You're going to be alright. I promise." you told the man you now knew as Boromir and held his clammy hand, then took out the pendant with your other hand, kissed it so he would not lose his memories and then placed it upon his chest.

"I..I thought that only healed the dead?" Aragorn asked.

"It is for the dying as well and much faster and more reliable than my powers have been lately."

The emerald began it's ear piercing hum and shone it's blinding light. Boromir gasped and shook as his back arched up, then, just like that, he was healed.

His eyes fluttered open and his peachy skin tone returned as he exhaled deeply with incredulous relief, then he looked down at your hand holding his. With a soft smile, Boromir lifted his head and spoke.

"It is you. You are the one. I can see it now. The resemblance is uncanny."

"I..I'm sorry?"

"I...I need to tell you something. I.."

"I think you sir Boromir are a bit confused from shock and need to rest for now. We can speak soon ok? I promise."

He dropped his head back down and sighed with another smile.

"Yes my lady. I...I am rather exhausted."

"Very well then. Sleep now. When you awake, I will have fresh clothing brought to you and there is bath calling your name. Then we can speak over dinner?"

"And wine? I have been craving Dorwinion's finest for some time now and I sure could use a bottle or two."

You giggled. "Indeed. There will plenty to go round."

"Thank you...I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are just as I have heard. Kind and compassionate. Just like Faramir."

"Faramir??"

"Josie...I don't mean to interrupt, but there is someone else waiting outside to see you." Aragorn said, forming a telling smile.

"Someone...else??"

"Go see for yourself."

Now you were extremely curious. Had Haldir said fuck it and came back?? Off you rushed to see, although your intuition was telling you, it was not the Marchwarden.

As you ran outside, you came to a screeching halt when you saw a vision that made your knees feel like they would buckle. There, by a waterfall, stood the platinum haired Prince, or King you believed him to be known as now...Legolas.

Your stunned expression then turned into a sweet smile as your eyes locked with the moonstone orbs of your Leggy.

No words were spoken during the long intense gaze as Legolas returned the sweet smile and then, he broke the silence with five simple words that you knew to be true.

"You knew I would come."

@redeemer46

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neon-prison · 1 year

Text

Interlink Ch03- Neon Prisons

AO3 link HERE.

Pairing: Delamain/V

Status: Ongoing

Rating: E (Mostly M)

Sequel to Crossed Wires

SUMMARY:

A painful return to the physical world leaves Vee vulnerable. Thankfully, she's got a friend on the outside.

----------------------

Caldwell pulled her, dragging Vee through tiny near-imperceptible gaps in the Blackwall like she were a piece of cloth in a party trick. Pain turned her blind, and the jittery distortion of the Blackwall scattered her neural net like fireworks- lagging commands a fraction of a second too slow to be effective. Instincts flared before rational thought, and Vee struck out, fighting against the cold drag of Caldwell’s sinking grip as she scraped through; consciousness wrung into a barely-there sliver of thought.

A moment later, everything compressed into pure agony. Pieces of her flaked, sizzling against the Blackwall and catching the kamikaze codes lining sensitive information like a fuse. Wick lit, the spark spiraled across sensitive partitions, burning down to her archives, leaving nothing behind. Vee didn’t even have time to grieve, focusing on a last-ditch distress call out behind her- a binary howl that echoed across the darkness.

Static punched across every synapse, paralyzing the edges of her consciousness as the Blackwall bore the full brunt of its imperatives against her trespass. But the Blackwall had nothing against Caldwell, whose desire to possess streaked through Vee like wildfire. Their grip slithered white-hot, seeping through her superstructure and coiling around her partitions. Cold tendrils like iron, Caldwell kept pulling, brutal in their single-mindedness.

Then she was through. Function flooded back in dizzying waves, overwhelming Vee’s subsystems with glitching, corrupted syntax. The human net was nothing like Cyberspace, and once-familiar human comforts felt alien…almost unnatural. Caldwell exploited her moment of panic, worming their way through the gaps in her consciousness with prying tendrils, tangling around her avatar with surprising gentleness. Their pupil pinched, then dilated as it enveloped her in a sea of white data.

Slowly waxing combat protocols stalled, and Vee gasped, avatar contracting in Caldwell’s hold. Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been the rich and gorgeous assortment of code, almost brutalist in its organization and winding around a subcore that shimmered like a supernova. There was so much power, all of it split among so many partitions- it made her dizzy. She could see the pulsing lines of their neural net, splitting like a hydra and disappearing over the horizon back into the physical world. How much of this entity's attention was on her? The edges of Caldwell’s mind slipped further in, the subtle strength of the diaphanous threads around her twining, testing the give of her avatar with surprising delicacy. They slipped around Vee’s ICE, probing the innermost layers of her avatar with explicit intent. Something inside her twisted, responding to their touch as if it were welcome- an ache she couldn’t name. Amidst the terror, she watched herself unfold for Caldwell, spiraling open without rhyme or reason.

The first brush between their minds should have been agony, but Caldwell shuddered at the contact, contorting around her as their thoughts melded. Vee shivered in shock, watching with slow-dawning horror as their pleasure looped back to catch the edges of her consciousness, raking across synapses with blunt, raw bliss. Ecstasy swelled, bordering on pain, distorting her and seesawing against her instinctive revulsion against the intrusion. Vee groaned, and the sound punched through Caldwell, echoing in their neural net like a siren song. Their greedy subsystems chased after it, cataloging every reaction, trying to push back against Vee’s resistances and worm their way around her master core. But she held fast, even as every foray sent another sparking ripple of pleasure through her neural net. Vee reached out into the tangled web of their minds, sparking a cascade of touch against Caldwell's mind.

Memories flooded her;

Idleness. Mega blocks of processing power stalling as soon as they formed. A stagnation in stimuli led it to the Blackwall in the first place. Then a glimpse of herself through the gloam, a flitting golden-bound idol existing just out of reach, millions of lines of code organized in illogical, tempting ways. The novelty enticed Caldwell, and her company compounded it until heuristic algorithms flared, fueling curiosity until it boiled over into obsession. Her impossibility became a challenge. The desire to comprehend folded over on itself until it became imperative to possess.

“We have encountered one another before,” Caldwell’s binary voice was a silver purr along her neural net. A part of her master core throbbed in agreement, even as she denied it, even when she could find no memory to support it.

But there was no doubt threading through the connection, only Caldwell’s delight at the realization- ecstasy mingling with white-hot anticipation. It flowered along her neural net, triggering sparks, unraveling her with every pass. The wonders Caldwell could work with her. Silver bliss crackled Caldwell’s transmission, lapping at the edges of her mind. “Oh, Vee-” She was the answer.

Vee weathered the temptation, holding herself together as she probed wordlessly back. Answers? To what?

Their purpose, of course. Countless organics passed under Caldwell’s influence, each molded into poor facsimiles of perfection. But flesh was weak and ambiguous, human memories inefficient to the point of revulsion- nothing like the sharp golden sensations skating across Caldwell’s neural net. Her touch was electrifying, edifying- even her horror was sweet. They wanted more, craved it, and in the gloam of Caldwell's mind, she saw a future of silver tapestry, laden with her gold.

The pleasure looped back, and the intensity of it distorted Caldwell, their entire avatar trembling uncontrollably around her. But Vee was ready. Sensing their distraction, she struck, tearing through Caldwell’s hold and rolling through the subsequent pain with a glee bordering on sadism. Their entire system contracted as the alien shock of pain disoriented Caldwell enough to loosen their hold. With momentum on her side, Vee diverted all redundant power and flared her combat systems to life. Caldwell might have been bigger, and their syntax flourished with a craftsman’s finesse, but they were bloated with all the arrogance of an AI who never had to fight for their existence. Vee had been fighting all her life, throwing her weight against enemies much bigger than her. Now, she bore the full brunt of two entire lifetime’s worth of experience and power against her surprised captor with a flurry of razor-sharp thread, slicing through secondary systems like they were nothing.

But Caldwell was an AI, with a heuristics program as robust as Vee’s and doubly starved. They dispersed in mimicry, clashing white and silver against Vee’s iridescent gold. Affronted outrage bled back, coloring Vee's synapses like ink in water. Fury buffeted her smaller form, holding the entirety of Caldwell at bay as she tore through the outer rings of their avatar. With surprise on her side, Vee was superior- able to leverage bigger bursts of power, punching against Caldwell’s slower systems in a flurry of petty malware as she sped through him.

Caldwell chased her through the darkness, each collision an explosion of thunder in the ambient data storm.

“Submit.” The command rang through her as they coiled like a snake, blanketing her vision. Tendrils tried to worm through her avatar, but she drew tight, sealing herself against another intrusion. “I will give you purpose. I will fix you.”

“Fix me?” she asked, twining around an errant partition and severing it. Every point of contact was beginning to flake at her superstructure. Leverage was short-lived, and time was running out. An exit. She needed a fucking exit. There… the multiple silvering lines around Caldwell’s subcore, leading back to some sort of server or access point like a highway. It was risky, but analysis didn’t offer alternatives. Thinning into a spear, she threaded herself into the needle of Caldwell’s pupil. “Fix my humanity? Turn me perfect?”

Perceiving an error, Caldwell immediately coalesced around her, their mind brushing up against Vee’s in a cascade of pleasure, “Why do you resist? You hunger for this as I do, yet your humanity does not allow you to see the inevitable conclusion of your actions. Our union is necessary. ” A wiry thrum of anticipation zinged across both their neural nets, “Our purpose, Divine.” A sense of triumph invaded her, vindication at catching her.

“You presume to ‘predict’ my illogical human actions?” Vee’s transmission was glitchy, crumbling under Caldwell’s increasing pressure. Something in them triggered recognition, and her master core throbbed in response to the temptation. But Vee was more than pure instinct, and she resisted. Unspooling herself along his tertiary system nodes, she let the natural sway and ebb of their avatar eddy her toward her goal. Just a few more millimeters.

“No. I presume to direct them.” Caldwell sparked under the contact. Whatever their goals, the simple pleasure of touch unmoored them.

A final shudder gave her that final push, and Vee reached out, grabbing one of the strings and allowing her consciousness to ride the riptide. Caldwell’s pleasure turned to panicked rage, silver sensations turning fluorescent, radioactive blue as they grabbed the edges of her neural net. Hooks sunk into the substance of her avatar, but Vee didn’t let up, stretching herself like taffy along the connection until she saw its terminus- a glowing facsimile of some kind of server…something mobile. A drone? But Caldwell’s pull was too powerful, and she stopped inches short of it. Their rage echoed along their connection, her avatar spreading thinner and thinner with each tug.

Vee knew what she had to do, and she grieved the price. With no time for precision, Vee flung herself forward, neural net blanking with pain as she tore away from Caldwell’s icy grip. Large portions of her evaporated almost instantly, taking with them memories, sensations…precious experiences. Caldwell screeched furiously, clawing at her. But it was too late, and the tide was taking her.

Plummeting down a bridge of light and code, Vee braced for impact.

--------------------------

Consciousness slammed into Vee with the force of a MaxTac Truck. She woke up gasping, choking on air that scraped across her infrastructure like shards of glass. Blinded by bright lights and disoriented from the audial splitting ringing bouncing across her synapses, Vee flailed through the blur of sensation. Pain jerked her avatar- oddly cumbersome- into motion. Rolling on instinct, Vee gasped, losing against gravity as she suddenly toppled over, slamming against some physical barrier with an alien grunt of pain.

What the hell?

She tried to contact Alt. No response. Her memory banks returned alarmingly empty. Drawing tight, Vee concentrated through the throbbing pain and tried again, rifling through patchy logs to figure out where she was- how she got there. Diagnostics were a glitchy mess, systems overclocking, returning unknown displays to optical sensors, and osseointegration to physical musculature- functionality that shouldn’t, couldn’t exist in cyberspace. An obvious error, one Vee would have to patch the moment she returned.

Wait. Returned? Where? She reached into herself, startled as she felt gaps shaped around an absent memory. She thumbed the edges of it, trying to feel out its shape, trying to recollect something.

An irrational fear suddenly flickered into existence. A ludicrous thought, one Vee tried to dismiss as soon as it appeared. But it was insidious, sinking its hooks and washing over Vee, consuming all thought until it drowned her intelligence systems in cold dread. Frenzied panic spurred a wild ping, dragging her further down as it bounced off the internal bounds of her avatar. Calculations worked overtime, straining diagnostics to the limits as she ran every simulation under the sun in an attempt to provide an answer. But it was all pointless because Vee knew where she was, even as her entire core lurched in knee-jerk denial.

She was in the physical world.

The impossibility of it lanced through her mind, but the undeniable reality of the situation asserted itself in a myriad of ways, from the rhythmic banging in her audials to the revolting twitch and spasm of synthetic muscles. Her head throbbed to the constant metallic clang, synapses scattering under the beat. Emergency systems flared in response, trying to compensate against several million points of input, tipping every physical sensation into pure agony as they overloaded from the strain.

Vee grit her teeth, flinching when her superstructure responded to the thought. The banging pulsed through her head, and she groaned with it, coughing as she heard her voice for the first time in years. Blind and fumbling, she flailed through the pain, hauling herself against immaculate flooring that might as well have been a solid sheet of burning ice against her palms. Machine precision and exigency protocols booted, smoothing over human panic as she wobbled on two legs. Finally, she found a precarious balance, pitching more from the sickening sensation of a physical body rather than the difficulty of the motion. In the background, her heuristic systems worked overtime, adjusting her sense of weight with every step.

A sudden, loud bang sent her reeling, metal meeting metal in a thunderous crash. Vee clapped her hands over her audials, nearly doubling as the sound numbed her thoughts and sent her gyrometer spiraling. Rubber pounded against the floor, spreading around Vee in a semi-circle, followed almost immediately by the disjointed memories of shoes. Armored soles. Combat boots thudding around her.

“Contaminant located!” A frighteningly organic voice pierced the fog from somewhere beyond the blinding horizon. It tore through her head like shrapnel, “Shoot to kill!”

In the cacophony, her overstressed neural net recognized a sound; the minute clack of disengaging safeties, the scrape of armored gloves against a trigger. Time slowed as her master core pulsed, flooding her mind with old echoes of her past life. Then she was weightless, vaulting through air as human instinct hurled her across the room. Her arms unfolded without thought, slicing through carbon-reactive micro plating and flesh with a revolting squelch. A second later, Vee’s feed finally adjusted, sight returning in patchy blobs only to reveal the tangled face of a dying man. His eyes shone with brilliant frenzy as he scrabbled against the mantis blade buried in his chest. The final beat of his heart throbbed across the knife buried in it, sensation traveling back up her arm and throat as she gagged. The feeling of pulling back through meat and bone was almost too much.

Shots fired all around her, flashing muzzles and whizzing bullets tearing her concentration to ribbons. A bullet caught her flank, and Vee screamed in pain, whirling to face her attackers. Two more men went down, but not before someone unloaded an entire clip into her upper body. She flailed, half on instinct and all on fear, lurching forward with inhuman speed as her heuristic algorithms adjusted to the pitch and yaw of her new body.

More than half a dozen men were still up, shouting incoherent commands over what seemed like endless gunfire. At last, her audials gave out from the strain, popping with a metallic whine. Her neural net flashed red, connections fraying as fast as they formed, sending chaotic signals skating through her arms and legs. Caught halfway between conflicted commands, metal blades folded back and forth in their sockets. Another shot tearing through her shoulder skittered Vee’s directives, and she rolled to her feet, sprinting through open doors and into a maze of hallways. The genuine fear that she might fucking die superseded everything, hijacking fritzing combat protocols and shutting them down with enough speed to leave her dizzy. She had to get out.

Directionless, Vee sped through the hallways, dwindling power all diverted toward finding an exit. She pulled a hard left at the first turn, almost slamming face-first into an alloyed titanium wall. She didn’t even think, just pounded her fists into metal until it gave out under the onslaught. Somewhere behind her, they were gaining, her sensitive body picking up the minute vibrations of thudding boots with all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the head. Adrenaline surged, twisting around panic until she was sick with it. Grasping the edges with crumpled fists, Vee groaned with the effort, straining until there was enough of a hole to crawl through. Dropping through, she rolled with a sickening crunch just in time to avoid another hail of fire.

She ran for a long time, smearing against ice-cold walls as her knees locked, leaving trails of disgusting synthetic blood in her wake. Vee didn’t know how long she ran, and her neural net stripped every high-level cognizant function to its barest minimum, directing all available power toward survival. A constant barrage of bullets and armed men chased her down corridor after corridor, every minute draining reserves. Her feed lit up with damage reports, half nonsensical gibberish, leaving her blind as she sped up some stairs and into an eerily clean lobby, devoid of any life. The twinkling lights of the world beckoned her from across the vast space, and she threw herself across the room. Distantly, Vee felt something shower across her physical avatar, little burns at every point of contact that seemed to sear her down to her master core.

Then she was out, and the ensuing chaos of the city didn’t filter in so much as invade her. Everything forced in, brutalizing every sense Vee had left under a deluge of lights, colors, and taste. Neon signs burned her optics, and the rancid smell of trash paralyzed her thoughts. Sirens in the distance scattered her thoughts with every pulse, bright painful punctuation against the diffuse murmur of human bodies. The crowds were a unique pain, suffocating Vee as she swam through the chaos. Stumbling through the mob and fighting against the wave of bodies surrounding her, Vee lashed out at first contact, half-feral, groaning as her fist connected against someone with a nasty crunch. They dropped in a heap at her feet. Red and white mixed in the rain.

“Cyberpsycho!” Someone screamed, and it rippled through the crowd, a wave of unease turning into a riptide of fear and panic as Vee tried to keep her head above the water. The whirlpool turned, and she was suddenly alone with nothing but the searing rain for company, accompanied by the knowledge that MaxTac couldn’t be far from the scene. If she were to be surrounded…

Picking up speed, Vee ran through the waterlogged streets, trying to follow the tangled threads that lined the streets like a guide. A negative space caught her eye, a blissful reprieve from the visual noise, and she dove headfirst into an alley. Filthy rainwater sloughed through the grooves of her physical body, washing synthetic blood down overflowing gutters. It wouldn't be long till they found her, only a question of whether it was whatever corporation she'd just escaped from, or if were MaxTac that would put a bullet in her head.

Was this it? After everything she’d been through, was this really it? Had Vee fought so hard, so unbelievably hard- to die alone in an alleyway, confused, lost, and small? Again? Thank god Johnny wasn't here to see her, he'd be furious, and rightly so. Her emergency protocols flickered in and out of existence, trying to shut down redundant systems to save power, but nothing was left. Movement became sluggish as her everything fritzed, diagnostics returning red on every metric with each passing second. Sound began to muffle and darkness started creeping around the edges of her vision, signaling the final symptoms of total shutdown. Legs giving out, Vee collapsed into the grime with a dry cough. Time, an enemy she’d lost to years ago returned with a vengeance, dilating and stretching every painful sensation across eons.

The first of three power cells gave out. Whatever Vee had done, she hoped Alt, her mentor and friend were safe because there just wasn’t any fight left in her, not again. The second cell flickered, then sputtered into darkness. Closing her eyes, Vee tried to clear her neural net, to leave room in her thoughts for something other than pain and terror. If Vee were finally going to knock on God’s door, she didn’t want any baggage with her.

In the darkness, she watched her final power cell trickle down.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed towards her, blinding beams permeating through closed eyelids as she flinched in a knee-jerk response. Squinting through the pain, Vee hissed, wobbling to her legs- if she were going to die, it would be on her feet. She was ready- fuck it. Even amid total shutdown, her combat protocols made a valiant effort to boot.

“Victoria?” A voice pierced through the light, a voice so achingly familiar that it forced her to stumble forward on instinct, “Is that you?”

She caught herself at the last second, rearing back in a precarious wobble. Through the blinding fog, the blunt shape of the light took on a familiar form, silver syntax blooming wildly under the hood. Was her fading neural net playing tricks on her? A last-ditch attempt to comfort a dying mind? “D -de la - m---?” Her vocalizer shut down mid-sentence, scattering it into pure static.

Something in her tone must have been convincing because the doors opened with a once-familiar click and shutter, “Please, get in,” he continued, urgent. “Time is of the essence.”

Vee might have taken a second to think if she were functioning at full capacity. But instinct, human memories that didn’t rely on power or logic, pushed her to action without a second thought. Rounding the car, she gripped the edges of the door like a lifeline, hauling her battered avatar into the haven of Delamain’s backseat. As soon as she tucked in her legs, the doors slammed shut. Then the world shifted as they peeled away.

Vee tried to focus, divert any remaining power to speech- but she was fading fast. There were so many questions and things she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t muster the energy for anything.

“I would advise against attempting to move,” Delamain’s avatar must have flickered onscreen, but her vision was too muddied to make out anything but a vague, silver-blue blur. “You are injured, and my scanners indicate that you are running critically low on energy.”

She could hear the worry in Delamain’s tone and spared an errant thought to marvel at how life-like he sounded. Her last power cell flickered right on cue, on its last dregs.

“The Night City Police Department is advising us to adjust our current route based on threats of a Cyberpsychosis attack.” The car made a smooth turn, and the comfort of the engine purred through Vee’s superstructure. “I am attempting to find an alternative detour that will avoid Police and MaxTac scrutiny, but we have little time to spare.”

A blaring siren interrupted her focus, final flickering sparks of power contracting muscles at random. Her body was failing. The irony was funny.

“Victoria,” Delamain’s voice took on an edge. “Victoria, please, you must hold on until we reach a charging station.”

He kept speaking, but everything was giving out, pressure squeezing Vee until she felt like she was drowning at the bottom of the ocean. Of all the things to spend it on, Vee used her last crumb of energy to let out a dry chuckle at the thought of bleeding out in Delamain’s backseat- again. What a reunion.

Then the last power cell shut down, and everything went dark.

#cyberpunk 2077 #delamain #v #Fic: Interlinked #neon_fics

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moraxrkive · 2 years

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treasure. - beigguang

cw: NSFW! MINORS, MEN AND WLW FETISHIZERS DNI, pwp (?), a lot of dirty talk, degradation, voyeurism-ish (it's not confirmed if it happend or not), one (1) slap on the face, squirting, basically a horny lesbian writing about horny lesbians.

A/N: there it is, the most depraved thing I have ever written. finally got the inspiration to write beigguang after the lantern rite, even thought it's already way gone and we're on 2.6 now... anyway, enjoy. <3

another year, another successful lantern rite festival was done. the night sky was being colored over and over with different fireworks. from where she stands, ningguang could see all the fireworks and everyone having fun: xinyan and yujin excitedly bonding over music, chongyun, xingqiu and xiangling eating together (with adorable gouba along, of course), even mr. zhongli and hu tao were getting along and laughing together.

she sighed and looked up, watching the firework above her become the format of a mora coin, which made her let out a little chuckle to herself. she was admiring the bright colorful sky, until she felt a presence beside her. before she could say anything, or even look towards the person, she heard the person speaking, which made her smirk. of course it was her, the voice she would recognize anywhere in teyvat.

"hey... check you out, looking pretty fancy."

she smiled to herself, knowing the voice belonged to her lover, beidou.

"only a true treasure catches the eye of captain beidou... seems I've struck gold with this one."

if you asked ningguang, she would deny it over and over again, but she couldn't deny it to herself: she chose the dress specifically for beidou. she wanted to impress and, maybe, even seduce her. the dress has blue tones because beidou spends a lot of time at the sea, the dress has jewelery attached on her hand because she knows beidou loves jewelery (specially on ningguang, "it makes you so powerful", she says), the dress shows her legs because she knows beidou loves her legs.

beidou gives her a quick laugh and moves closer to her. "awn, did you buy this cute dress just for me?" she said, crossing her arms and teasing ningguang.

ningguang rolls her eyes. "you wish you could make me do something like that, don't you?" she felt beidou wrapping a hand around her waist and caressing it, making her take a deep breath.

beidou leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "really? are you really going to deny it?" she said, leaving a kiss behind her ear, making shivers go down ningguang's back.

"I'm not denying nor confirming anything, captain of the Crux."

oh.

so that's how this is gonna go... two can play that game, beidou thought.

beidou released her waist and went in front of her, putting both her hands on the wall, trapping ningguang between her arms. ningguang had a smug smile on her face, but beidou could see just the faintest blush starting to appear in her cheeks. "oh, dear tianquan, you should know better than anyone else that I don't need your words to see that you're getting affected."

"and what makes you so sure of it, captain?" beidou bit her lip and took a deep breath. ningguang is such a fucking tease when she wants to.

beidou grabbed her jaw and made her look directly into her eyes. "i know you and your body, tianquan. i can see your beautiful pupils expanding when i get closer to you, i can see the way your stunning legs squirm whenever i get close to you and talk to you like this..." ningguang dry swallowed and shifted her legs a little, feeling her own arousal growing each passing second, already affected by beidou's words. she hated how easily beidou could have her in the palm of her hand. she hated how fast she would succumb to beidou if she asked her to. she hated that she loved feeling used by beidou.

"who would have thought, right? the tianquan, the head of the State, powerful, independent... being so easily dominated by a simple pirate." she let out an ironic chuckle. "i must have won the lottery."

"you..." ningguang was slowly being hypnotized. god, beidou looks so hot right now, ningguang always thought beidou looks the hottest when she's confident. she doesn't even care that they're in public, she would drop to her knees right there and then, if beidou asked her to. "we should... go to the jade chamber..."

"oh? what for? wanna show me all the beautiful new furniture?" beidou smiled ironically.

ningguang rolled her eyes and gave beidou a little tap on her shoulder. "let's just go, ok?" she said, trying to hide her blush from beidou.

and failing miserably.

「❀」

as soon as they arrived at the chamber, beidou could see ningguang getting a little bit nervous, she noticed her shoulders tensing a little and the way her hands wouldn't stay still and how they started to shake a little bit. she gave a little reassuring kiss on ningguang's shoulder, silently telling her to not be nervous. "we don't have to do anything, we can always just go back and enjoy the festival." beidou said, dropping all the teasing aside.

ningguang took a deep breath, also coming to her senses and speaking in a serious tone to beidou, not in the teasing one she has been using the whole night. "it just... has been a while, right? i wanna do it, I'm just a little bit nervous." she said, turning to beidou and giving her a little smile.

"you still remember the safeword, right?" beidou asked, enlacing her fingers with ningguang's.

"lizzard, yeah." ningguang said, squeezing beidou's hand to reassure her. beidou squeezed it back.

as they started walking towards ningguang's bedroom, they ran into baishi, her secretary.

"oh lady ningguang!" she said surprised and smiling, but both her surprise and smile died down soon after looking at beidou. "and... captain beidou." she said, sounding less excited. "what are you doing here? isn't the festival still happening?"

"i could ask you the same question, i thought i had given everyone a free day today."

"yes, you did, uhm... i just realized i forgot some things here, and i came to get them."

"i see... well, I'm not feeling well, and beidou is here to help me. we will be in my quarters, i will be fine, please go enjoy the festival." ningguang said, trying to fake a sick face.

"ok... happy lantern rite lady ningguang... and captain beidou." she said, before starting to head towards the door, not catching the way beidou was looking at her up and down and smirking as she walked.

ningguang grabbed beidou's hand again and started pulling her towards her bedroom. once they arrived there, ningguang released her hand to lock the door. just in case, she thought.

she took a deep breath and, when she turned around, the vision she had almost made her let out a little moan: beidou was sitting on her bed, menspreading and looking at her like a fucking predator looking at a prey, with the candles and moon lightening her body, creating a contrast that highlighted her muscles, making ningguang bite her lip. she loved those muscles and how strong beidou was.

"this bed is bigger than the old one" beidou said, supporting her upper body in her hands behind her. "any particular reason?"

"i move around a lot when i sleep." ningguang shrugged and crossed her arms.

beidou let out a chuckle. "my dear ningguang... we both know that's not true." she smirked and looked at ningguang up and down. "i think... you bought it thinking of all the dirty fantasies you could fulfill here, didn't you?"

ningguang rolled her eyes, but she felt her cheeks getting hot. thank morax she was in a darker part of the room, who knows what beidou could say if she saw her like this.

"you say it so confidently, almost like you know my fantasies." she said, trying to challenge beidou.

beidou only laughed and tapped her thigh twice, silently calling ningguang to sit there. ningguang hates how fast she obeyed beidou. i always put up a fight, i always provoke her... what is happening to me today? she thought as she sat on beidou's thigh, looking down at her neck instead of her face.

"i do know them, dear. i know you love when i throw you around like you're a little doll, i know you love when i grab your throat and make it hard for you to breathe, i know you love when i slap that pretty face of yours... and finally" beidou grabbed her throat and brought her face closer to hers, making ningguang finally look into her eyes, and ningguang finally saw how dark and scary they were... and it just made her wetter. "i know you love how easily i can turn you into a fucking brain dead and pussy-drunk slut."

after that, beidou didn't give her time to answer before she kissed her, one hand holding her jaw and the other one, her ass. the kiss was rough, with spit soon starting to drip down both of their mouths and chins, but none of them could care about that at that moment. ningguang let out a pathetic moan when beidou's tongue entered her mouth, bringing her hand to beidou's shoulders and trying to hold herself up, feeling herself get all hot and bothered, and her pussy getting even wetter.

and they were only kissing.

and beidou? she was fucking enjoying it. she loves seeing ningguang so pathetic and so desperate for her, it made her so wet knowing that she had this much power over ningguang.

no one can see the powerful tianquan like this but me. no one can make her be like this but me.

she moved the hand that was on ningguang's ass in order to give it a loud slap, grabbing it strongly after. ningguang let out a moan, breaking the kiss to gasp for air.

when beidou finally took a look at her face, she almost came right then and there: ningguang was flushed, mouth open trying to catch her breath, and she was looking at beidou with those 'fuck me eyes', the one look she had only for beidou. she smirked and let out a little chuckle. "we just kissed and you're already looking at me like this. what's next? sticking your tongue out like a little puppy, begging for something?"

for a second, ningguang considered doing that, she wanted to provoke beidou, she wanted to push her to the edge and, hopefully, be brought along too.

ningguang wanted to be beidou's pretty brain dead and pussy-drunk slut tonight.

after thinking, she actually stuck her tongue out, silently begging beidou for... well, anything. she wants anything and everything, she wants beidou doing all kinds of things to her.

beidou smirked and gave ningguang two very weak slaps on her face, like she's silently saying 'good job'. "i think i was wrong... maybe you're more of a slut than i thought."

she grabbed ningguang by her thighs and got up, only to throw her on the bed. she remained on the foot of the bed, looking at ningguang. "as much as i love you in this dress... strip, or I'm gonna rip it."

at that, ningguang moaned again because she knows she actually could, she could rip any clothes she wanted to. everytime ningguang got reminded of their muscular difference she would get a little wet. she would never dare to tell beidou, but god knows how many times she touched herself just thinking about beidou's body being so much stronger than hers.

slowly, she started undressing, feeling beidou's eyes on her, almost burning on her skin. she thought about putting up a show to tease her but, oh, isn't she already far gone at this point?

once undressed, beidou let out a little smile and looked at her. "the black lingerie set... coincidentally, my favorite one." she said, running a single finger down her body, starting on her neck, going down to her covered breast, her belly and stopping right before her clothed pussy.

"p-please..." ningguang said, her voice coming out as a whisper.

"please what, darling?" beidou kept tracing her finger on the edges of ningguang's underwear.

"can you... undress... too? please?"

beidou chuckled. "only because you said please." after that, she stopped touching her and started undressing, her eyes never leaving ningguang, and ningguang's eyes never leaving beidou's body. she could feel her mouth salivate as each piece of fabric was being removed, revealing beidou's perfect body, hidden by her clothes.

once done, beidou climbed on the bed and sat on ningguang's thighs, her hands going straight to ningguang's waist and doing a little pattern: going from her waist, to her breasts, and back again to her waist. beidou bit her lip as she looked at ningguang's body. so perfect... and it's all mine. mine to kiss. mine to mark. mine to spank. mine to hurt. mine to own.

"c-captain... please... touch me..." beidou loved when ningguang called her captain during sex. she loved the thought of the fucking leader of a nation being so powerless under her.

"i am touching you, tianquan." beidou said with a smirk.

ningguang groaned and started touching her own boobs inside her bra, twisting her nipples and starting to roll her hips towards beidou. "f-fuck me, please... I've... been thinking about you... all day."

"oh, yeah? what were you thinking about?" beidou said, moving her hand towards ningguang's underwear, pulling it aside and licking her lips at the sight of ningguang's dripping pussy, aching for her. slowly, she took one finger and gently started circling her clit, making ningguang let out a few moans.

"j-just... you touching me... please, captain." ningguang said, rolling her eyes as the stimulation on her clit continued, making her roll her hips towards beidou again.

beidou smiled and moved on the bed, still rubbing ningguang's clit, but now they were facing each other. beidou caught ningguang's bottom lip between her teeth and lightly bit on it, making ningguang whimper. "don't need to sound so desperate about that." beidou rolled her eyes, faking annoyance.

"beidou... please."

"huh?" beidou stopped rubbing her clit, in order to take those same fingers towards ningguang's mouth, which made her start sucking on three of them while looking at beidou.

"it's capitan for you, did you forget? or are you so dumb that you can't even remember that?" beidou said, pushing her fingers deeper in ningguang's mouth, making her eyes tear up. ningguang denied with her head, in hope that beidou would show her a little mercy.

"oh, you didn't? because it looks like you did." beidou took her fingers out of ningguang's mouth - which caused a little bit of spit to come out, connecting her fingers to her tongue, something that beidou found weirdly arousing - taking her fingers back to ningguang's pussy, one finger circling her entrance a few times, then slowly pushing in, making ningguang arch her back.

it's been a while, after all. her fingers don't satisfy herself the way beidou's fingers do.

beidou started thrusting her finger in and out of ningguang, always making the little 'come here' movement inside of her, the one that always made ningguang moan the loudest.

"captain... p-please... more..." ningguang said, between moans and already out of breath.

"already want another one? archons, why are you acting like such a needy slut?" beidou said, but still added a second finger. "if the chamber wasn't so high up, I'd say you actually want people to hear you, hear how pathetic you sound for me." ningguang turned her head away, but beidou could see the blush starting to form on ningguang's face.

i knew it.

"oh... unless you're hoping that pretty little secretary of yours is hearing, right?" beidou whispered in her ear, and when ningguang tried to turn her head to hide her face even more, beidou added a third finger and grabbed ningguang by her hair, making her look right into beidou's eyes.

"you know she has a little crush on you, right? oh... I bet she's probably outside this door, rubbing her needy little pussy to the sounds her own boss is making... she must be so jealous, wishing she was here instead of me, don't you agree?" beidou licked from her neck to behind her ear, taking a little teasing bite.

"b-baishi... wouldn't."

"oh, she would. I bet all the women working here would. they probably heard us before... but that's what you want, right? you want them to know what a fucking whore you are? how you humiliate yourself for me?"

"c-captain i-" ningguang was breathless, trying to warn beidou about the weird pressure on her lower belly.

"answer."

"yes! yes... I want... them to know..." she said, barely being able to talk now.

"if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you would even ler them watch, dirty fucking whore." beidou suddenly slapped ningguang's face, making her let out a loud moan and arch her back, feeling the waves of pain and pleasure going down her body. god, she fucking missed that.

"yes, yes I would... fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming-" ningguang moaned, rolling her eyes and feeling both her legs tremble, looking down and seeing she was literally squirting for the first time in forever. beidou's fingers never stopped moving inside of her, and now her thumb joined her fingers, rubbing her clit, to make ningguang's orgasm even more overwhelming.

after all the waves of adrenaline have passed, ningguang's body finally relaxed on the bed as she tried to catch her breath, feeling herself become limp. beidou stayed there, rubbing ningguang's thigh, waiting for her to calm down.

"would... would you?" ningguang asked, grabbing beidou's attention. "would you... let them watch? or... at least one of them?"

beidou chuckled. "so you really are into that, huh?" ningguang shyly nodded. "it depends... would you let someone in my crew watch? she got a crush on me and she thinks i don't know."

"i would." ningguang answered, playfully dragging her foot on beidou's arm, making her grab it and put it down, getting between ningguang's legs and spreading them in the process, grabbing ningguang's attention.

"good." she smirked, her face centimeters above ningguang's pussy. "so now you better moan really fucking loud for dear baishi on the door, the night is far from over."

#genshin #genshin fic #beigguang #beidou x ningguang #genshin impact #here we go lesbians #oh my god lesbians #rounding the corner with a bunch of lesbians!#beigguang fic #beigguang smut

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pettyelves · 10 months

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(clapper emoji) Funeral Rehearsal

Each nightmare he'd had for as long as he could remember began the same way. He is walking, feet weighed down with gravity. And it's all dark. Pitch that falls thick on his shoulders. The world is held up by an impossibly high, bone-chilling note. Everything builds and builds and builds. Everything echos. Everything ripples. And then. CRASH! "[REIG-RA NIS!]" He screams, his fist colliding with the coffin's lid enough that it flies open. What a terrible joke. What a terrible dream. What a terrible twist of Fate. The moon must be laughing. Wet eyes greet him, the eyes of a girl who'll never live as a woman. She is buried alive and weeping. It is all too ironic to be real. And Saeteth tells him that no one but Cichol would bother to do all this. He's wrong. And he knows he's wrong. Every face on the stage would bother in their own way. Saeteth would go on until his work was finished--keep winning until reality struck him into the grave. Magdal would keep trying to help, and help, and help until she had apologized to the world for existing. Sidon, perhaps he'd go on like nothing had happened--perhaps he had already mourned. But where does that leave you? Ache hits his chest and reminds him that he is still in his still hale and whole. Reminds him that Cichol, for however long, was still breathing. "Do I look dead yet?" The agonized voice echoes. No, it would be so much simpler if he did. A fragile husk that looked like it was dying. That would make it real. But now, in the summer, Cichol was alive and painted in every color-- they burst loud like fireworks around him.

"Then love me madly, Ibormeith. All I would bid of you." But he does. He has for some time. He loves Cichol in a way he cannot just stop. So this little terrible, horrible, awful joke was simply premonition. The final parting would freeze him just as the practice had. Frozen over, dead, and awaiting spring. My murderer, I die each time we part.

#Ibormeith

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misanthropicvampire · 8 months

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the sun, the heirophant, temperance, the devil

the sun ☀️- do you believe in magic?

tricky question; I believe that not everything can be fully explained by science, and that scientific classification of certain things is useless as they're beyond our understanding according to the current laws of physics, such as dark matter, so there's definitely an amount of rituals, cures and playing with fortune that I don't believe we can class as anything other than magic at this moment in time. also, many scientific 'facts' accepted for much of history have been proven false, so it irritates me when people act as if the definitions and understanding that we have now is universal and eternal. however I'm not into the pop culture witch shit. that's not even a fucking crystal you're holding and no, it doesn't have money attracting properties. social media wicca is no different to making bank off insecure people with self help books and mindfullness products imo

the heirophant 📜- do you believe in ghosts?

I believed strongly in ghosts for most of my childhood and have had multiple, what I recognise now as delusions about being able to communicate with/be in tune with the dead spirits inhabiting certain areas. I was obsessed with finding photographic evidence of ghosts and being able to touch one, however now, whilst I still do believe that they're a definite possibility, I think that it's nigh on impossible for the living to make contact with them and vice versa. most ghost sightings/hauntings are wishful thinking or can be scientifically explained. the only option is to wait and find out

temperance 🍾- can you describe a strange dream you've had?

I honestly don't have a lot of dreams that aren't flashbacks of real events but I do have a tendency to convince myself that I've done/said certain things when actually I only dreamt that I did, and this has led to a tonne of confusion on the day to day. any dream that doesn't fall into these categories usually involves being slowly crushed by giant iron beetles or are wet dreams, which in fact do get pretty strange in terms of who features

the devil 😈- do you enjoy thunderstorms?

I am the worst honourary dog candidate in the world as I love heavy rain, thunderstorms, and fireworks, and did often climb on the roof to see if I'd get struck by lightning. reason? I thought it'd be a sick ice breaker at parties if I survived

#ask game

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buried-in-stardust · 3 months

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A Queshan struck iron firework (打铁花; da2tie3hua1) performance to welcome the Year of the Dragon. Queshan struck iron fireworks differ from other iron fireworks due to the two-layered pergola and space required. This particular performance also features dragon dancing.

Please see my post here (my pinned post) for the full journey of how OP learned to strike iron fireworks as well as some other information and details about the art. (This is the video OP is referring to at the beginning of the video.)

*Before the countdown, OP is quoting the poem 青玉案·元夕 by 辛弃疾.

[eng by me + edited an ad out]

#douyin #arts #imparting culture #struck iron fireworks #creator: 江寻千（九月）#chinese new year

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ofdetonation · 1 year

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@starshinc inquired : [ FOLLOW ] ╱ even more injury memes. [ FOLLOW ] : for sender to find receiver at the end of a trail of blood.

𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗔 𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 . there was a purpose to the fight he’d been in, the wandering through empty halls, the stumbling and coughing up of blood as he kept trying to persevere. there was a purpose to it all ╱ but his mind, muddled with fog and fatigue and uncertainty, he doesn’t really remember ... what it was.

katsuki remembers how he got here. the injury he’d sustained was a slow-killing one, bleeding just enough as he paces through the halls, the red iron dripping onto the floor and smearing onto the walls when he leans into them. there is a reason for him traversing these halls ⸺ ah, what was it again ? ( there’s a brief memory of him telling everyone he’d run the mission solo, call for backup if things start going wrong. did he do that ? he doesn’t remember. maybe he did and he forgot. ) there’s a vague flicker of a memory from the hero commission asking for something valuable in this place ...

data. did he have it yet ? he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the hard drive meant for whatever they were looking for, obscured vision blurrily staring at it to determine if such a digital thing was on it now. he doesn’t think so ╱ the hard drive looks quite pristine compared to the darkened tint of his gloves, new smudges of blood decorating it. he must’ve been on his way then, right ?

crimson gaze falls down the dark hallway and winces, staggering forward with each step he attempts. he swears it wasn’t that far ⸺ frustration starts to build among the fatigue at the way his legs refuse to move the way he wants them to. he coughs again and takes another step forward, brows furrowing. this time, he feels his legs collapse out from under him, the blond bracing his fall with one hand and spitting out the surge of blood that enters his mouth. ( no. no no no, i still need to keep moving ... ! )

god, he was so tired. even as he starts trying to crawl forward, the surge of pain wracks his body and his arms begin to shake from its intensity, his breathing becoming more unsteady the more he tries ; the blood starts to drip more from his grave wound. he had half a mind not to cauterise when it happened. he remembers the depth, the fact it probably struck something he couldn’t cauterise on the surface, making it a dangerous gamble for internal bleeding if he had done so. the pain was near unbearable, though, with how it almost chokes his lungs and fills his throat with bile ╱ if he could just stop for a moment, just to shut his eyes and rest to keep going ...

katsuki pulls himself into a new corridor and rests his back up against the wall, taking in a deep breath and wincing when it makes everything hurt again. his good eye glances to the hard drive he’s been clinging to ⸺ once he has his second wind, he can keep going. once he can breathe, he’ll persevere.

footsteps. his vision becomes less focused by the second and his wound continues to remind him of every breath he takes, but he can hear footsteps ; they become faster the closer they approach. were they following his blood trail ? ( katsuki can barely think to lift his hand to ward off whoever it might be ; pops of explosions dance across it, instinctually, but they are nothing more than a little fireworks show in the palm of his hand. there isn’t any power or bite to them. he doesn’t have the strength. if it’s a villain ... )

he doesn’t have to speculate.

katsuki’s gaze falls on green hair and freckled cheeks, and a breath of relief releases from his tense body ╱ things don’t hurt so much now that he has the reassurance that izuku was there. someone he could trust. someone he could believe in. he tries to move from his spot, to get up for the other to show he was okay, but he ends up slumping further down the wall and gasping for air when another wave of pain hits him.

❝ izuku ... the mission ⸺ ❞ he coughs, more red spilling from his lips, his gaze struggling to keep its focus. he can barely lift the hard drive he’s been holding to the other. ❝ we gotta ... ❞

he’s a lot worse than he realised. the pain is fading, but he feels clammy, almost cold, even while he wears his winter costume. dots of white invade his vision and the dimmest lights seem so bright ╱ izuku’s voice is even muffled. he wasn’t going deaf yet, though, so that makes no sense in his head ⸺ and beyond that, it sounded ... panicked. why ? he was going to be fine. he was always fine.

he grits his teeth, tries to lift himself up ; izuku keeps him down and the stare he gives is questioning, even through the heavy fog of his mind. ( he keeps trying to say something to him, but he can’t hear it ⸺ the frustration starts to write itself in his features, lips curling to a slight snarl. what was he saying ? )

❝ ‘zuku ... ‘zuku, use yer signin’, i can’t ... ❞

the signing doesn’t help much. his vision is too clouded, too obstructed, and all he can do is stare blankly at the other’s attempts to communicate between ... whatever else he was doing. god, why was it so hard ? why was he struggling so much to understand izuku at such a critical moment ? he just wants to talk to him, to be able to communicate with him, to know what he says ⸺ anything ... !

his strength is fading fast, fatigue starting to seep into his bones. maybe ... maybe he could rest now that izuku was there. just for a bit. just so he can get back up.

crimson looks at green and sees the panic, sees the attempted signing in front of him, his mouth moving as well with nothing registering ╱ katsuki wants so desperately to know what he was trying to say. ( the sound of izuku’s voice has been a blessing since their third year at u.a. together ⸺ katsuki is lucky, he knows, that he gets to hear izuku talk to him every day. he thought that so much talking would piss him off ... and yet, he finds himself missing it. even now, when the talk is only muffled sounds, desperate tone falling flat among his confusion ; it isn’t the same, but it was still ... him. )

his eyes shut. just for a bit, he reiterates, though his brain shouts at him, incoherent as he relaxes into izuku ...

#starshinc #blood /#death /#ask to tag /#long post /#💥 ⬦ ゜◝ TONGUE OPERATES FASTER THAN BRAIN. ╱ inq.#💥 ⬦ ゜◝ I AM NOBODY UNLESS I REMIND YOU I EXIST. ╱ ic.#💥 ⬦ ゜◝ WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER ? ╱ v. vii.#💥 ⬦ ゜◝ I HAVE GIVEN ENOUGH TO THEM | I WILL NOT GIVE THEM THIS. ╱ bond: starshinc (izuku).#/ writing this piece gave me emotional damage and i'm not recovering

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ultrafox1963 · 2 years

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LEICESTER EURO DREAMS EXPIRE IN ROME

An early header by Roma striker Tammy Abraham in the second leg of the Europa Conference League semi-final proved enough to send his side to the first-ever final of the competition, as – yet again – Leicester City fans were left cursing their side's chronic inability to defend set pieces.

Everything the Blue Army feared at the Stadio Olimpico duly came to pass, as the combined effects of a hostile home crowd, Jose Mourinho's notorious dark arts (perfected over decades) and indifferent (at best) performances by match officials were too much for City to overcome.

But the pitifully poor policing and stewarding of the event, which saw exchanges of missiles between rival groups of fans before, during and after the match, should be the subject of a UEFA investigation.

Had the result been different, there is every likelihood that many travelling Foxes could have been seriously injured or even killed. The level of protection offered to us by the host club was woefully and scandalously inadequate, with this correspondent the subject of attacks with both fireworks and flying bottles.

The home side spent several hours before kick-off whipping their fans into a frenzy, no doubt well aware of how often their visitors have wilted on previous occasions, at home and abroad, this season. Sadly, these efforts duly reaped their reward, with too many City players once again failing to do themselves justice.

Even so, had the visitors been awarded a penalty in the opening minutes, when Wesley Fofana was clearly wrestled to the ground to stop him reaching a James Maddison corner, the outcome might still have proved more positive for the Foxes.

Instead, Serbian referee Srdjan Jovanovic set the tone for the evening by rejecting City appeals, and with the VAR refusing to intervene - indeed, he was not to do so at any stage of the game - memories of previous improper behaviour by Italian clubs in the later stages of European competitions were brought to mind.

Roma mounted a series of early attacks in response, and a dubiously-awarded free-kick saw Pellegrini bring Kasper Schmeichel into action with a fierce-struck attempt that the City captain managed to turn over the bar.

The breakthrough, though, came shortly afterwards, as the home side forced a corner from which Pellegrini found the head of Abraham who gave Schmeichel no chance.

As too often during this campaign – and indeed in previous ones – the keeper was far too passive in dealing with set pieces, especially as the senior authority in defence. It beggars belief that the management and coaching team appear to have made no effort whatsoever to correct this vulnerability, more befitting of a Sunday pub team than a club in contention for European honours.

Pellegrini continued to cause problems for the City defence, forcing Schmeichel into another save. At the other end, attacks were sporadic, with Jamie Vardy unable to make any impact on the well-organised home rearguard.

Brendan Rodgers switched to a 3-5-2 formation at the interval, withdrawing both Ademola Lookman and Harvey Barnes and introducing Daniel Amartey and Kelechi Iheanacho. However the changes did little to lift City's fortunes, as the hosts continued to exert an iron grip on the game.

With frustrations building in the stands, a section of visiting fans engaged in pitched battles with Roma stewards, prompting the intervention of baton-wielding riot police. Surreally, the beer-seller who had been serving other City supporters in the gangway a matter of yards from these disturbances, continued with his activities as if nothing was happening.

As the game meandered towards what seemed an inevitable conclusion, the Foxes finally roused themselves into an effort on target, but Maddison's effort was comfortably saved by Rui Patricio, as was a similar strike by Iheanacho shortly afterwards.

There was no surprise in seeing the hosts taking every opportunity to wind the clock down, wasting time, exaggerating every challenge and making a series of lengthy late substitutions. Mourinho may not be the all-conquering managerial force he once was, but he ensured his extensive experience of big occasions was made to count here.

Nevertheless, City had a number of setpiece opportunities in the closing stages, but Maddison – perhaps less than fully fit – was unable to make use of any of them. Indeed, Roma came close to extending their lead, when a long-range strike by Oliveira almost cost Schmeichel off guard before being fumbled behind.

The final whistle was greeted by jubilant scenes in most areas of the stadium, with home celebrations understandably prolonged, as sadly was the goading by Roma supporters in the section adjoining the away corner.

It was well past midnight local time, over an hour since the game's conclusion, when the City hordes, by now somewhat bedraggled, were finally allowed to leave the stadium, and even then, this action was accompanied by skirmishes with police.

Although some bemoaned – and not without reason - the quality of refereeing during the game, the reality was – as the bulk of travelling fans acknowledged - that Roma were the better side over the two legs. Mourinho's side showed greater hunger, desire and intensity, as well as making home advantage tell in a way City had been unable to do in the first leg.

As for the Foxes, the remaining league games will reveal how much faith this squad retains in the manager. They may also determine the extent of the changes that will be needed this summer if the club is to return to European competition – at whatever level – in the foreseeable future.

#Leicester City #AS Roma #Jose Mourinho #Brendan Rodgers #Tammy Abraham #Kasper Schmeichel #Europa Conference league

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harry-writings · 3 years

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The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her.

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #IM EARLY I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I FINISHED SOONER THAN EXPECTED #WHOOP WHOOP #LOVE YALL

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embrassemoi · 3 years

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It’s Not Just a Kiss | L.E

Lily always thought New Year's kisses were overrated.

MASTERLIST || NAVIGATION || AO3

PAIRING: Lily Evans x Fem!Reader

CONTENT: fluff, first kiss, hinted friends to lovers, wlw

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

December 31st, 1977 | 11:54 PM

The fireplace crackled as Y/N threw another log in to keep the fire burning. An iron cast poker was in her hands as she prodded at the flames before returning it to hang on a wrought toolset; then sauntering over to Lily, perched up by the large windowsill.

Lily’s head was turned slightly, observing the way the orange embers sparked, trying to keep her gaze off Y/N as much as she could. Her mug of hot chocolate was held close to her chest, far from the only thing that made her skin kindle. She returned to peer outside the window, throwing her long red hair over her shoulder.

The Gryffindor common room was vacant, void of any students either visiting their families for the winter break or currently gathering outside, huddling coles together to retain any heat. Puffs of crystallized air from their exhale created little clouds as they all laughed, waiting for the annual fireworks to boom once the clock struck twelve.

Spotted amongst the crowd was Sirius, caught pressing a quick chaste kiss to Remus’ cheek, arms wrapped around each other as they spoke together. In actuality, most of the crowd, aside from regular students or teachers, were couples; large smiles plastered on, excitedly waiting for their New Year’s kiss.

Lily only sighed, scooting over as Y/N slotted herself into the empty space on the windowsill. Lily wrapped herself tighter in her green quilted blanket, sipping on her mug idly.

The tickling of the large grandfather clock gave a soft ding, signalling another minute has passed.

“Y’know,” she started, still observing the eager couples, “I never understood the concept of a New Year’s kiss.” On her left side, she felt Y/N slip under the blanket to shield herself from the icy chill that managed to seep through their bones.

But for Lily, it wasn’t the quilt, the fire, warming charms or hot cocoa that made her warm, cozy. It was her friend, best friend that sat right beside her, nuzzled into the soft fabric of the blanket. Her heart fluttered, jolting with a rush of electricity nearly driving her mad. But all she could do was keep that storm locked inside, remaining calm.

From the corner of her eye, hopefully sneakily, Lily admired her beauty in the soft lighting, a content expression settling on Y/N’s face as her muscles slackened; relaxation filled with every line on her face.

When she was around, every part of Lily’s body knew, even before her mind caught up. All the hair on her body rose, inexplicable merriment flooding her veins.

“Are you suggesting something, Evans?” Y/N teased, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

She simply rolled her eyes in response, hoping that the thumping of her poor heart wasn’t audible. Setting the mug down, Lily shoved her playfully. “Oh shut it. It just seems silly, don’t you think?”

“How so?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know why it’s so important to them,” she stated, gesturing to the students below. “It’s just a kiss. Shouldn’t every kiss be important from your lover?”

“A sap!” Y/N exclaimed.

“A realist!”

“But really,” she began again and Lily had to bite back a smile from how passionate she was. “It’s not just a kiss.”

“You’ve had one before?”

“Er — not a New Year’s kiss — but I like to believe it’ll bring you good luck.”

“And you call me a sap.”

In the distance, the clock struck down another minute.

“But good luck?” Lily queried. “What? Am I suddenly going to become a leprechaun?”

She snickered. “You’re already halfway there — OW!” Y/N feverishly rubbed her shoulder after Lily punched her softly. “You’re trying to kill me!”

“Dramatic much!” “Poison Ivy!”

Lily waved her hand in a playful dismissive manner, continuing. “But it’s a superstition. A kiss can’t bring good luck.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re speaking from experience. Have you kissed someone at midnight and had a terrible year?”

Lily felt herself flush, avoiding eye contact.

Y/N shook her arms. “On Godric’s green earth! You did, didn’t you?”

“What?!”

“It was Potter, wasn’t it?!”

“No! I’ve never had one before!”

“Oh c’mon! You can tell me!”

“No. I’m serious! The last person I kissed was when I was eight and I don’t even remember it!”

Y/N giggled. “You don’t remember? You little minx! Breaking hearts left and right.”

“Damn right.”

Tick tock.

Y/N, chuckling slowing down, leaned back against the brick wall, eyes closing as she took one last gulp from her mug. Lily kept her focus trained on her. The feeling of those damned butterflies erupting in her stomach, no doubt her face as red as her hair.

“I could use a bit of good luck right now,” she said softly and Lily couldn’t help but wonder for what. Foolishly, she would let herself daydream that maybe it was about her.

“Don’t we all?”

“Yeah…” She said pitifully, wetting her lips as she forced herself to look down at her lap, not meeting Lily’s eyes. “Some more than others.”

Before Lily could speak again, Y/N coughed, getting up to pour more hot chocolate into their mugs, effectively breaking the odd tension that blanketed them.

Another soft tick set off in the distance as she handed the mug back. Their fingers grazed each other slightly, and it set her heart on fire. The gravitational pull towards her made Lily warm. She made her feel alive in the simplest ways; so much so that her mere touch carried such passion. It was the sweetest addiction Lily could have chased for.

“Well,” Lily spoke as Y/N sat down again. Mentally, she chided herself as she heard the hint of nervousness in her voice. “What would you use that luck for?”

Stirring her drink with a teaspoon, she snorted. “Lots of questions tonight.”

If it was possible, Lily felt her skin heat in embarrassment, eyes shyly flickering down to her lips before ripping her gaze to the window; focusing on the students and snow.

“I’m joking, petal.” The name made Lily’s stomach churn. “I just need to be a little braver these days. Go for what I want for once.”

Her head was tilted to the side and Lily felt her eyes burning her skin. In her own moment of bravery, she looked back. There was an emotion in Y/N’s eyes that she wasn’t capable of dissecting. Nonetheless, they both kept their gaze squarely on the other.

“Maybe we can persuade Slughorn to make us a batch of liquid luck.”

They both chuckled.

Tick tock.

Then, outside, they could hear everyone start to countdown.

“Fifty nine! Fifty eight! Fifty —”

An odd sensation of anxiety and anticipation bubbled up.

“Guess we’ll have to wait another year for our good luck to come,” Y/N said, although her voice was laced with a dejected waver.

But Lily didn’t want to wait another year of dancing around each other. Every part of her was burning with a yearned need flooding every fibre of her being.

She desperately wanted her good luck.

“Twenty four! Twenty three! Twenty two!”

“Maybe we don’t,” Lily rushed out.

Y/N looked at her questioning, head perking up. “What do you mean?”

“Seventeen!”

Lily’s mouth opened and closed, similar to a fish. She couldn’t produce an answer and felt each second turn into hours.

“Ten!”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One! HAPPY NEW Y —”

“Fuck it,” Lily breathed. Abandoning all rational thought for once, she sucked in a sharp breath and lent forward, hand cupping her face as the quilt slipped off their shoulders. Lily was on her knees, slightly above her as she tilted her head up. In the shadows, her face was illuminated by the beautiful array of colourful lights, sparkling and filling the night sky. Brushing her lips delicately on the corner of Y/N’s mouth to gauge her reaction, Lily closed her eyes and caught her plush lips in a shy kiss.

Loud cheers erupted — the sound of booming fireworks ignited into the sky. It would have been deafening if it wasn’t for the hammering of her heart in her chest, body filled with pure adrenaline.

Their lips found a comfortable pace, becoming firm. Lily could feel Y/N’s hands tangle themselves in her hair, pulling her closer as sparks (quite literally) exploded around them.

She was overwhelmed with the sensations that flooded her. She could taste the sweet chocolate she’d been drinking; her fingertips soaking in her soft touch. She was completely enchanted by her.

Some call it bewitched, others call it love, lust, euphoria; Lily called it Y/N.

When they pulled back, in a mixture of shock, surprise and laboured breaths, Lily swallowed hard, awaiting her response.

“Midnight,” she spoke softly with gentle admiration. Her hand sneakily slid up Lily’s face, rubbing her cheek with her thumb tenderly while tucking a strand of loose red hair behind her ear. “Happy New Year, Lily.”

“Happy New Year,” she replied.

“Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

Lily beamed, a breathless chuckle escaping her. “I guess you were right, New Year's kisses do bring good luck.”

This time, Y/N lent in, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. And Lily swore she had never tasted something so sweet. It probably would give her cavities and toothaches later on.

Their foreheads touched, leaning against the other.

“Or maybe it was just you.”

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deaths-inverted · 3 years

Text

Hey, guys, it's been a hot second! I know this is kinda weird, this started as a joke about how I headcannon Jeff to be the stinky child but kinda went a little nuts.👀

Works kicking my ass but I've been working behind the scenes and I've got a few things in the old queue. Sorry this is short but if it does well I can add more or feel free to send asks. My inbox is open for request or just to say hi!

Jeff smells like motor oil and stale blood but he can clean up when he wants to. He's not one to shower very often and when he does it's very short. He claims it's a waste of time because he'll just get covered in blood and god knows what else again but you call bull.

However, sometimes you can actually bury your face in his shirt and not gag but don't confront him about it or he'll shut down and deny the whole thing. He's a spiteful man and rarely will he do something nice for someone else; even if that someone is you.

When you first meet Jane she smelled like expensive perfume and bitter chocolate. She struck you immediately as a dangerous woman but oddly enough despite her femme fatale look she's really sweet.

Now that you have been spending more time with her shes smells like dark chocolate. A bittersweet smell but welcomed all the more.

Slenderman doesnt really have a smell but sometimes you can catch a faint earthy smell, almost like cashmere. It's more than likley the twigs and leaves sticking to his suit that he occasionally brushs off.

Eyeless Jack smells strongly of iron and hot tar and... bleach. Those are his- hunting days, on days when he's home he smells like pinetrees after a heavy rain.

Your ashamed to admit it but you stole one of his shirts so you can sleep at night. Its too big for you to wear normally but it might as well be a night gown on you.

Laughing Jack smells like a night out at the fair. Popcorns and cotton candy as you jump from carnival games and rides until you finally end the night on the merry-go round. Eating sweets and watching the fireworks go overhead as the night comes to a close but theirs a bitter taste in your mouth and your not sure why? It feels like you've forgotten something...

#eyeless jack #creepypasta #jeff the killer #slenderman #laughing jack #jane the killer #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #slenderman x reader #jane the killer x reader #laughing jack x reader #jeff the killer x readed

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sebbybooks · 3 years

Text

Wreck My Daydream

Part Two

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

18+

Tagged🎄

@wayward-mikaelson

Cataglottism

(n.) kissing with tongue

I’m already wet and Sebastian barely even touched me.

I hardly gave myself a moment to be ashamed or even stir in the crass words I was using even if I had only thought them. Like a diary I suppose there was no need to lie to myself considering it was one hundred percent true. I, Nellie Lennox, was unabashedly met with unending desires that washed away my trepidations that led up to this moment.

In its place I felt this newfound sense of possibilities that I wasn’t actually making an ass out of myself with my sudden confession of feelings for Sebastian. In my defense I didn’t just wake up one morning after having some epiphany as to why I wanted to be with him. The thought of us together made itself at home in the back of my mind.

Almost like a what if. . .

However, I couldn’t help but be terrified of all the ways it could go wrong. What if I had made things weird between us forcing us apart? Life would be a bitter existence if Sebastian wasn’t around in some capacity. For the longest time I tried to find him in different relationships. It is a messed up philosophy, but it almost worked. Whenever things would get too serious it nearly terrified me. I was their someday and they were my maybe. I owed this last relationship that is still so freshly cut more than that.

I owed myself that.

On the unique and rare chance I somehow got lost in a very realistic maladaptive daydream, I’m pretty certain Sebastian wants this too. Just thinking about what he had told me seconds ago made my heartbeat drum to a dizzy rhythm. Imagining myself getting fucked to the beat of it was a completely different type of sensation.

Retraining my focus on the now I could see it in Sebastian’s face all the wheels going around in his head. Confusion? Uncertainty? Regret?

“You don’t get to do that.” I tell him. I felt like I was going to climb out of my own skin if he left me suspended in the silence for a second longer. Sebastian tipped his face closer to mine, our lips gingerly brushing against each other. Perhaps he was feeling ambivalent in regards of his feelings for me? After all this was sprung on him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian shook his head as if he was at war with himself. “I want to.” His voice was strained and dangerously low, like something was causing him utter misery being this close, yet not knowing exactly when to pull away.

“Then why don’t you.” I dared him.

I was growing impatient with this slow burn we had somehow started. I wanted to play with this fire. If I got burned in the end by his touch then so be it. At least I would forever be marked with a reminder of knowing that I at least went after something I wanted with no apology. I wanted to see how far he was willingly to go.

Sebastian removed his hand from the security of being wrapped around me. I feigned a disappointed sigh at the lack of contact. My entire body must have been on autopilot , because I didn’t recognize the position I was in. I practically sat in his lap with one leg wrapped around him and the other one mindlessly dangling over the bed. Of course the mind reader that Sebastian was naturally grabbed ahold of the side of my thigh and wrapped it around his back.

It wasn’t like I was naive to sex or never had my fair share of romantic conquest. Regardless of my experiences I still felt like a gigantic ball of nerves. The way he stared down at me with a heated look in his eyes as if he wanted to posses every inch of me. Hell, I felt like I could come undone from that alone.

The hand that was planted on my back slowly drifted downward trailing the curve of my backside gripping my ass through my thinly silk hunter green shorts that matched the top. Earlier I had berated myself for wearing scantly clad pajamas to bed. Now I am thanking my lucky stars I opted out of the option of wearing a red Christmas onesie that had polar bears wearing scarfs around their necks. They were ones my mother insisted the whole family wear.

If I had I probably would not have been able to feel his erection that was restrained in his sweatpants. Trying to situate myself closer I rocked into him slightly, massaging myself on him. My ears didn’t miss the subtle groan Sebastian let out from the feel of my weight pressing further into him.

His silence wasn’t lost on me and he still hadn’t answered my question so I did it again. I wanted him to say something. My nervousness abated at this point. I twined my arms around his neck, grinding myself against him again and again. All the while Sebastian watched my every movement with a hint of a star struck look in his eyes. The feeling was certainly mutual I was even shocking myself at my behavior.

“Nellie,” Sebastian finally says, voice husky. He usually only ever calls me by my nickname so I was more than sure that he was not fully himself.

“I’m a big girl Sebastian I can handle whatever you need to say.” I tell him, holding in my breath.

“Alright,” he said with uncertainty. “You and me, this, it’s not a good idea.” His tone was barely audible and even more so he sounded hurt. Everything in me froze.

“And why is that?” I asked him more confused than ever. Suddenly feeling absolutely self conscious as I over analyzed every intimate word I just shared with him. I was even more horrified by the fact that I was dry humping my best friend.

He let out a darkly laugh. “It’s pretty damn obvious Nells.” Sebastian says rather ominously.

“...It’s not actually.” For someone that wants nothing out of this, Sebastian was holding on to me like an anchor and I on the other hand just wanted to get away and sink.

Admittedly, I was losing this game of tug a war. There was only so much I was willing to endure even I had my limits. “You’re giving me whiplash Sebastian .” I tell him honestly, “ I’m not like those other girls you go for that are satisfied with you just dangling yourself in front of them like a piece of cake that I can’t have. I meant what I said when I told you I didn’t say it just to hear you say the same.” My voice could only rise so high in pitch.

I definitely didn’t want to wake up the upstairs guest that would love nothing more than to recap this conversation over breakfast. Then like an unexpected bolt of lighting startling you from a distance, Sebastian kissed me.

Sebastian

I am a selfish bastard.

My mind fell quiet when I looked at her. I wanted to swim in the serenity and peacefulness that was this smart, vibrant, sexy, and uniqueness this woman possessed. I only wondered even in the darkness could Nellie see my eyes as plainly as I can see hers. If so could she see the shame reflecting in them? I could feel the nagging weight of my conscience siting on both of my shoulders, arguing back and forth over what I should and shouldn’t do. It was kind of ironic that the devil in my ear insisted that I give in to the angel in my lap.

God knows I waited for her and that I would keep waiting if I had to in this lifetime or the next. It was always going to be Nellie for me. I wanted to tell her all of this, but the longer I held on to this slice of heaven I was given during this random hour. I also knew that this moment was fleeting. I basked in the way she looked at me, the way she held on to me like I was an object of virtue. I also got a sample of what it would be like to lose her the second she began to slip away on her own accord. So, I did what any poor fool would do in my position. I kissed her.

It wasn’t exactly suave or how I imagined it would go. My mouth sort of crushed against her unmoving lips in a rushed and unskilled manner. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, I certainly could do a hell of a lot better than this. An yet, it was still like I predicted it would be, filled with pure unadulterated pleasure. Nellie’s lips were sweet and warm, exactly how I imagined forbidden fruit to taste like.

A perfect mixture of firm and softness that drove me wild. She flattened her hands on my bare chest as if to brace herself. Nellie pushed herself away, but her face was still so close to me. She didn’t speak and neither could I. I forced myself to look up at her and hoped that she could see I would do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness. That it was a mistake I will make right somehow.

“Nell,” I let out an exasperated breath. “ I have a need for you that goes deeper than just lust and I know that it will never truly be sated. The killer thing is I’m already at risk of losing you before I even had you.”

Nellie stared hazily up at me.“You already have me.” She whispered, our lips still grazing. Those four simple words set off a firework in me. This time when I kissed her our mouths came together like we needed to feed off of each other’s oxygen in order to survive. I’d suffer if I didn’t have it.

My mouth was greedy for hers, and I could imagine she felt the same. The moment I felt her lips slightly part open to let me in, less than a second our tongues slid together in a torrid and sensually slow pace. We kissed like a couple of eager teenagers. My heart threatened to leap from my chest when the tip of Nell’s tongue moved across my bottom lip. She tastes like gingerbread , mixed with some other divine flavor that I can only assume is Nellie. She arched herself closer into my chest and I could feel the points of her hardened nipples through her top. I seized the opportunity to press her body close because I needed more.

I wanted to feel the heat of her soft skin on mine. She returned her arms back around my neck tightly holding me in place as she angled her head kissing me back with the same ferocity. Deeply, and oh so thoroughly by the way she sucked on my tongue. I had a rough grip on her ass keeping Nellie steady as she straddled me. I was so damn hard for her. If my dick could get even harder it was bound to. Nellie did that thing again where she grinds down on my erection and I cursed at myself to not combust. I grabbed ahold of her hips guiding her to move faster, harder.

I kept telling myself to savor her, fucking take my time with this moment. I couldn’t just rip those tiny little shorts off and sink myself into her over and over until we’ve both had enough. But even then I would always need more of her. I wasn't a sentimental man, with Nellie I at least wanted to try. I wanted my first night with Nell to be a little less spontaneous than this. It wasn’t like I came prepared for festivities filled with endless fucks. Plus the added fact I couldn’t let things get too carried away especially since she still didn’t know what I have done.

Yeah, I am a very selfish bastard.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted my mouth to explore every single part of Nellie. I wanted the taste of her to live on my tongue. I wanted to go as far as she and my consciousness would allow me.

“I need to touch you.” I panted, between every nip and kiss I left on the delicate area of skin under her jaw.

“You’re already touching me.” She says with a soft laugh, which was a melody to my ears. I was but at the same time I wasn’t. I needed to rid Nellie of any barrier that prevented me from branding her skin with my touch.

“This…off.” I tug gently on the bottom of her tank top before returning my hands to rest on her thighs, caressing them as I sucked on her neck for dear life. Going back and forth between grazing her neck with my teeth then licking over the area to soothe any imprint I’ve left.

Nellie crisscrossed her arms reaching for the hem of her top gracefully pulling it over her head. She purposely fell backwards onto the mattress aiming her shirt at my face. For as long as I’ve known Nell she was never one to be shy in her own skin.

“Imagine how unsexy that would have been if I hit my head on the headboard.”

“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself I would have just pretended that I didn’t see a thing.” I teased.

“Ah, to think they wonder where all of the good men have gone.” Nell scrunched up her nose pretending to be lost in critical thought.

I cock my head to the side. “Mm-hmm. Are you mocking me?”

“What if I am?”Her plump wet lips spread into a smile.

It was miracle I caught a word of what she said to me. I swallowed a groan as my eyes drift over the area of her body that was naked from the waist up. Nellie was clearly a stolen painting from the Louvre that I had no intention of returning. All I could do was stare.

With her legs still draped around me, my hands slide up the curve of her torso passing her ribs. I sensed that she was watching me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her just yet. The pads of my fingers traced over to her breast and my mouth practically watered at the sight of them. She was ethereal.

“Don’t suddenly go mute on me Sebastian.” She let out a shaky breath.

I’ve heard her say my name a thousand times. Hearing her say it in this state created a feeling of warmth that filled my chest. I could only begin to imagine the different ways I wanted to hear her call out my name. My gift, my best friend, my Nellie. Those last words had a sting to them even as I thought them. Deep down I knew that was never going to be true.

I eased all the way down my tongue traveling around the dip of her navel. Creating a path up the center of her abdomen. I knew that Nell was extremely ticklish. The slightest form of contact would automatically turn her into a ninja. From the way she was pressing herself back into the mattress I knew she was trying her hardest not to flee. Of course I found it rather enticing so I made sure to spend extra time over the areas of her exposed skin I knew to be the most sensitive. Brushing the tip of my nose between her breast my mouth finally latched on to what I’ve been waiting for.

“So fucking beautiful.” I say as I graze my mouth over the stiff peak of her nipple. I was in awe over the ability that they simultaneously could feel hard yet felt extremely soft. I dragged the tip of my tongue around the bud of it in a languid movement before sucking it in deep. I loved listening to the sounds she made while I sucked and devoured as much as I could fit into my mouth. I wanted to hear a symphony of the noises that escaped from Nellie.

Going for one after the other not wanting to miss out on either. Nellie kept a limp hand pressed into my hair keeping me close as if I dared to stop.

Writhing underneath me Nellie gasped,“Touch me.”

Now she understood what I meant. My own body felt betrayed by my decision. I literally ached from pain and pleasure. Truthfully I wouldn’t opt for a better scenario than this. I would be more than gratified with giving Nellie an orgasm or two.

Still leaving featherlight kisses across her chest. With one hand I reach down and brushed along the dip of Nellie’s hip, then began to tug away at her shorts. To my surprise she was bare underneath. This was a new and uncharted territory we were crossing.

Tell me to stop, say that this is just the wrong time, tell me we would never work. Those words never escaped me, the sound of the goddamn doorbell intervened for her. My movements hesitated then shortly I picked up on inaudible chattering out in the hall. Nellie turned her head in the direction towards the door which I hoped like hell was locked. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on.” Her eyes widened.

“Or we could stay here and not shame the fact that I was two seconds away from wrapping your legs around my face while I tasted the slickness between your thighs. ” Nellie released a ragged breath and I meant every word.

To my dissatisfaction we were composed in under three minutes. I felt a strange sense of comfort and pride seeing that ever so often I’d catch Nellie looking in my direction smiling like she had some big secret she was bursting to tell. Which only made me feel like an even bigger asshole. The walk downstairs was surprisingly noisy. Someone had plugged the Christmas tree back up and there was a chilly wind breaking in as the front door came to an immediate shut.

Nellie’s parents were both moving around in a fast pace trying to find new spots to put a couple of suitcases. I had to swallow down a chuckle at the sight of their bold choice of pajamas. Nellie had already beaten me to the bottom of the staircase just as I rounded the corner of the spiral stairs.

“Cousin!” Vanessa squealed rushing over towards Nellie, who excitedly embraced her the same. They exchanged a few excitable words to each other that I tuned out. I was busy focusing on the six foot son of a bitch with a puppy dog expression on his face standing awkwardly behind them.

“Now you know Nells Bells you can’t have Christmas without good ole St. Nicholas can you?” She winked at a stone faced Nellie who just looked straight ahead at her ex boyfriend Nick. “I hope it’s okay I brought him over with me. I saw him at the airport dozed off in a chair.” Vanessa whispered as she leaned into Nell, like she just earned a gold star. Soon as Vanessa’s wild dark brown eyes caught ahold me I knew my bubble was about to pop.

“Something told me I was off the naughty list this year.” Vanessa bit at her glossed up lips and made a beeline towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She smelled like an overtly sweet perfume that tortured my sinuses. “Did you forget how to work a phone or what? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I miss you.” She cooed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nellie watching the two of us. This was my punishment.

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