#it’s devastating to watch her try so so so hard and still fail

[sillybiggirl]

kristen applebees i love you. this is too much for a teenager and you know that and i love you. your whole life has been shaped around religion constantly and i love you. you break everything you touch, not just with your dexterity of 4, but with your clumsy heart and i love you. things have to get better.

#fhjy #kristen applebees #rambling in the tags #it’s devastating to watch her try so so so hard and still fail #and that’s because! she’s a kid! a kid who had to grow up so so fast #she’s spread so thin and her skin’s stretched with how quickly she had to become adult #from chosen one to saint in a years time #never a kid always more always had to be more

[jpmarvel90]

Sacrifice

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Word Count: 5148

Relationship: Sister Nat & Sister Yelena x Reader Wanda x Reader

Summary: Y/n has been haunted since she watched Natasha fall to her death on Vormir. Her own grief is only intensified when Yelena finds out and shifts blame to the one person that wished it was her who had made the ultimate sacrifce.

Y/n's POV:

Coming home from Vormir without Nat was the most heartbreaking moment of my life. Seeing our sister Yelena's reaction added to the pain that I was already feeling. When Clint, Nat and I arrived at Vormir, none of us thought we'd be leaving as a duo. As soon as the realisation hit, I knew it had to be me. Clint had a family and the world needed Natasha. I was the obvious choice.

But Nat had other ideas. She had to be the hero. Whilst her and Clint were fighting, I took the opportunity to go myself. But Nat stopped me at the last minute. My feet were off the ground as I jumped, I was content with my decision. But my stubborn sister had to be the hero. She was able to grab me at the last minute and use her strength to switch our position.

I still had a hold on her hand, but she was out of reach from Clint, so it was reliant on me to be able to pull her up. That was made even more difficult by the fact that Nat didn't even try. My eyes were filled with tears when I realised that I wouldn't be able to save her. "You can't leave us. Yelena needs you. I need you!" I begged her, a sob getting caught in my throat. "It's ok. You'll be ok." She tells me but I shake my head, tears continuing to fall. I try once again with all my strength to pull her back up. "Let me go." She whispers before kicking off the wall. I can still see her body falling as I failed to save her. The world lost a hero that day and Yelena and I lost our sister.

It never should have been Nat. She was the true hero that carried on fighting when so many gave up after the snap. She gave her life to rectifying the wrongs she was forced to do whilst in the Red Room. Her ledger was already clean, and she deserved the chance to be able to have a normal life. To not have to fight any more.

After the battle was over, we were reunited with our family and friends that we had lost five years ago. I hadn't only lost Yelena, but my girlfriend Wanda too. It had been hell, and it was the reason I stuck by Natasha and worked tirelessly with her to find a way to bring everyone back.

However, telling them both the news was almost as devastating as the moment I saw Nat die. Yelena was angry and couldn't understand it. Wanda was devastated too. Nat had been like a sister to her when she first joined the Avengers. She was hurting too. I tried to be there for them as best I could. I was still grieving myself, but I knew I had to be there for my sister and girlfriend.

It was hard as they both started to withdraw, spending more time together. They had a shared experience and found comfort in each other. I started to feel like an outsider and my relationship with Wanda was slowly becoming more distanced. Yelena rarely spoke to me. Until she uttered the most devastating words at Nat's funeral. "It should have been you." There was a venom to her words and I could see that Wanda agreed. It made everything more painful as they were true. It should have been me. No one needed me. But Natasha Romanoff, everyone needed her.

Life at the compound become more difficult by the day. Those of us left signed to work with the government to keep the world safe from another situation like Thanos. There were rumblings that Hydra had resurrected, so most of our missions focused on wiping out anyone who posed a threat.

During this, my relationship with Yelena became non-existent. Any words said in my direction were said with hate. It got so bad that Fury could no longer put us on the same missions as he couldn't guarantee my safety from my own teammate, my own sister.

Wanda never officially broke up with me, but she moved out of our shared room and no longer spared any time for me. If I walked into a room, she was quick to leave. The love we once had seemed to have vanished when Nat died. Each day, it just reiterated why it should have been me.

So, I decided that I had to find a way that I could bring Nat back. No matter what the consequences might be. I spend a lot of time in the library working out if there was anything I could do that might be able to make everything right again. Though one phrase keeps coming up. "A soul for a soul." It's what's the Red Skull had told us when we were on Vormir, could that be a replacement for a soul already sacrificed.

I decide that's where I need to start. A trip back to Vormir and a conversation with the Red Skull will hopefully set me off on the way to bringing Nat back. I just need a distraction for everyone here so I can "borrow" a quinjet and make the journey. "Hey Y/n, we're going to have a team evening together. Maybe go for a couple of drinks, want to join us?" Bucky calls out after knocking on my door.

"Are Yelena and Wanda going?" I ask as I open the door. He looks at me sympathetically and nods. The rest of the team have been a little distant with me too. Not that I blame them. They're closer to Yelena and Wanda so I don't expect them to insert themselves into the middle of whatever shit show of a relationship we have.

"I'll give it a miss tonight. Thanks, though Buck. Have a great time." I tell him with a tight lipped smile. "You ok Y/n?" He asks me, taking me by surprise. "Oh yeah. I'm good. Thanks for checking in. I appreciate it." I respond. He nods and goes to turn before stopping and looking back. "How about on Friday, you me and Sam all go out together. Make a night of it. I know you've been a little isolated recently. I'm sorry for that." He suggests. "Oh uh. Thanks Bucky, sure that would great." I agree and I see him smile. "Great, we'll sort something out." He smiles and heads off.

This gives me the perfect opportunity. If they're all out, I can start to bring my sister back. I take a bit of time getting everything in order just in case I don't come back. I leave a message for Nat, hopeful that she might be able to see it one day. I considered leaving one for Yelena and Wanda, but they won't care. They'll be happy that the right person is with them.

I hear them all leave about 6pm so I gather a few of my things and head out. One of the few skills I'm grateful for from the red room is my hacking ability. Hopefully, by the time Shield realise the jet is missing, I'll be long gone. I'm weirdly not nervous as I board the quinjet. I feel a sense of hope. I know this is the right thing to do and I just pray that I'll be able to pull this off.

When I finally reach my destination, I take the familiar walk up to the top of the cliff. I get flashbacks of the last time I was here. The last time I was with my sister. I can still hear the conversations we had as I reach the top. I familiar figure waiting for me.

I take a deep breath and make my way forward as the figure turns to face me. "Ah, Y/n Y/l/n, I wondered when I would see you again."

Wanda's POV:

This night out with the team was much needed. Since everything with Thanos, it's been difficult to find the light. We lost a lot and we're still healing. I was surprised when I felt a pang of disappointment when Bucky came to us without Y/n in tow. Not that I'm surprised, we've not exactly made a welcoming space.

I especially have been bad with her. She's my girlfriend after all, but I just let my grief consume me. Add on the confusion of missing out on five years of life, it's just been difficult to make sense of it all. Yelena was the only one who knew how I felt and it was easier to be with her than Y/n.

But now I realise what I'm missing. The support and comfort of the woman that I love. I was stupid to let myself become influenced by Yelena. I started to feel her anger, but mine wasn't directed at Y/n. It was the situation. It just became my outlet as I had nowhere else to direct it. Which is completely unfair on Y/n. She was grieving herself and lost Yelena and me on top of it.

"I'm going to check on Y/n." Bucky tells us when we arrive home, earning a huff from Yelena. "Why do you care?" She snaps. "Because she has become isolated and it's not fair. I shouldn't have let it go on for so long." He defends. "Maybe she deserves it! If it wasn't for her, Natasha would be here." Yelena bites back. "ENOUGH!" Clint shouts, stepping in front of Yelena.

"I promised Y/n I wouldn't get involved, but I can't stand here anymore and let you talk like this. Y/n tried everything to save Nat. She had to watch as she slipped from her fingers after doing everything for it to be her. Y/n had wanted to make the sacrifice herself. So please just stop. If you don't want to be around her or have her in your life, fine. But this bitching needs to stop." He scolds the young Russian. Yelena doesn't respond but lets her head hang low for a moment. "I'll join you Bucky." Clint responds, following behind Bucky.

I should go with them. But when I take a step, Yelena looks to me. "I need more vodka." She huffs, taking my arm and moving us into the kitchen to get a drink. But before she's able to drink the shot she's poured, FRIDAY makes an announcement. "Director Fury has request everyone's attention in the conference room immediately."

"Cyka." Yelena huffs, quickly taking the shot and making her way to the meeting room. I follow behind and see Bucky and Clint return but without Y/n. I don't question it, instead I take a seat next to Yelena. "Would one of you like to explain where the quinjet is?" He asks, his tone flat. "No idea. We've all been out for a team meal." Sam explains. "Was Y/l/n at this meal?" Fury asks after noticing her absence.

The silence provides his answer. "That would explain the encryption on the tracking." Fury sighs. "Wait, you think Y/n has taken the jet?" Clint asks, giving Bucky a worrying look. "Well, considering she's the only one not here and only two people in this team have that ability to hack the quinjet like that." He responds and we all know the other is Yelena.

"This is not good. Do you think she's actually done it? That she found away?" Clint whispers to Bucky who matches his concerned look. "Do you know where the jet was heading?" Clint directs to Fury who shakes his head. "No, she's hidden the location." He replies. "Shit." Clint mumbles. "Something you'd like to share?" Fury questions him. Clint doesn't respond but pushes a piece of paper towards him.

Fury takes it and I see a sadness flash across his face. My heart rate picks up a little and the regret of how I have treated Y/n these last week's grows tenfold. I selfishly thought she would always be there waiting for me for when I was able to get passed this grief.

"Ok, let's go. Hopefully we can catch her before she does something stupid." Fury moves to leave with no explanation. "Would someone like to explain what is going on?" Yelena asks angrily. "Considering you haven't cared about Y/n's wellbeing recently, I'm sure you don't care now." Clint snaps and I see a flash of hurt on Yelena's face. "We don't have time for this." Bucky steps in, bringing the focus back to the situation at hand.

Mindlessly, I follow behind the others towards the quinjet. I have no idea what's going on, but from the panic in both Clint and Bucky's eyes, I know it can't be good. "You're going?" Yelena reaches out to grab my arm and spin me around. "You're not? She's your sister Yelena. I know you're angry at her, but it seems like you might lose her too. It's a loss I know that I won't cope with." I respond, snatching my arm from her and running to the jet.

"Co-ordinates set to Vormir." Clint tells Fury as the jet takes off. Hearing those words sends fear through my body. Why would she be going there? This fear and sickening feeling just grows as we get closer to our destination. The rest of the journey is in silence before the jet touches down.

Cautiously we all disembark and my eyes instantly land on the quinjet a few metres away. "This way." Clint instructs, directing us towards a worn path up to the top of a cliff. As quickly as we can, we start off to reach our destination. Though I don't think any of us expected the sight that was waiting for us.

In this moment, I feel like my heart is in my mouth. My emotions overwhelm me as I see the person that I had been grieving for. "Natasha?" Yelena whispers in shock as our eyes land on a familiar red head in front of us. I wipe at my own eyes, not believing what I'm seeing in front of us. Nat turns around with a confused look on her face as she looks over us. "You're really here?" Yelena says as she rushes forward and wraps her arms around her sister.

My own gaze then moves around trying to find Y/n. She has to be around here somewhere. "What happened? How am I here?" Nat asks once we've all greeted her, plenty of tears shed between us. That's when I notice the sadness in Clint and Bucky's eyes. "Clint?" I ask, panic building within. All he can muster is a whisperer sentence. "A soul for a soul."

Natasha's POV:

The last thing I remember was being in this odd space between reality and wherever I was due to move onto next. I was aware I was dead, and it seemed like I was just waiting. For what, I'm not sure. But I certainly hadn't expected that I would find myself back on Vormir. I knew time had passed. I just don't know how much time.

I look over the edge of the cliff as flashbacks from that day replay in my mind. I jumped. I stopped Y/n from doing it and I jumped in her place. I died, making the sacrifice so we could get the soul stone and beat Thanos. Had we beat Thanos?

I don't get time to really take it all in as I hear footsteps behind me. I quickly turn, getting in my fighting stance ready for whatever might be coming my way. However, my question is soon answered when I see two faces that I've not see in five years. Within seconds Yelena has wrapped her arms around me and is holding me close. I take comfort in her arms and look around for our other sister, desperate to hold her too.

After greeting everyone, I ask what had happened and that seems to bring a sadness to Fury, Bucky and Clint. When Wanda pushes Clint, he simply states, "A soul for a soul." I don't understand what he means, we already did that to get the soul stone in the first place. "What do you mean? Where's Y/n? Is she back at the compound?" I ask, not getting a good feeling about my sister not being here for this reunion.

"Let's get back home and we can share what we know." Clint suggests, guiding us back towards the path. Yelena and Wanda both stick close to me. Yelena seems delighted, but Wanda has a darkness around her. A worry that I don't understand. But I fear it is related to Y/n. "How long has it been?" I ask, wanting to get some sense of the time that has passed. "Three months." Yelena responds. "It felt like we had only been gone for seconds but in that time, I had lost you." She adds on, turning to me and pulling me into a hug once again. I've never seen Yelena this vulnerable before, so I just hold her that bit tighter.

When we reach the quinjet, I notice that there are two which takes me by surprise. "I'll take this one back. Then we'll meet to discuss moving forward." Fury explains, to which Bucky nods. "Not that I'm complaining, but is anyone going to explain how I'm back?" I ask, getting a little frustrated. They all look at each other until Clint speaks up. "We actually have no idea, but we think it has something to do with Y/n." He responds, before turning to enter the jet, preventing me from questioning him further.

My mind is so confused right now. It still feels a little hazy as we fly back to the compound. I have so many questions and I can't quite make sense of what is happening right now. As grateful as I am to be with my family again, I want to understand why. Is this temporary? Will I end up back in the middle place again?

When we arrive back home, I aimlessly follow the others to the conference room. "You go and rest Natasha, we'll give you any updates as needed." Yelena instructs me but I shake my head. "I want to know how this has all happened, especially if it's got something to do with Y/n." I reply, continuing on my journey with the others. I hear Yelena mumble something under her breath and she doesn't look too happy, but ultimately doesn't stop me.

I take my usual seat in the conference room, and I realise that the others are in a state of shock. They are all staring at me as if I'm going to disappear at any moment. "Where's Steve and Tony?" I ask, noticing two very empty spaces in the room. They take the time to talk me through what happened after they returned with all the stones. Knowing that Tony sacrificed himself for the greater good brought a tear to my eye. But I'm grateful that Steve was able to get his second chance with Peggy.

Now we come on to the more difficult conversation of how I happen to be back on earth, very much alive. "Bucky and I went to check on Y/n but she didn't answer. FRIDAY notified us she had left the compound but that she had blocked her location. With the door unlocked we went in and that's when we found that note." Clint explains as Fury nods along. "That would work with the timeline of the quinjet going missing. She obviously waited for you all to be out of the compound so she could do what she needed uninterrupted." Fury responds.

"What note?" I jump in, still confused about what is going on. Did Y/n really steal a quinjet? Why would she do that? Fury moved his hand into his inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a note before handing it to me. I open it up and I feel both Wanda and Yelena peer over my shoulder.

Maybe this time I can make things right. I'll make sure it was me. Take care of Nat.

I look up from the note to the others. Wanda is full on crying when she sees the words on the paper. Yelena won't make eye contact whilst both Bucky, Clint and Sam look like they're grieving. "What does this mean? What does she mean by making sure it was her." I question, wanting to get some semblance of what is going on. This looks like a suicide note.

I start to get frustrated when no one answers me. In fact, they all make the effort to not meet my eyes. "Someone tell me!" I shout, banging my hand to the table making them flinch. "Yelena?" Clint speaks, raising an eyebrow at her. I turn to face my sister who looks as white as a ghost. "Lena, what is going on?" I ask calmly, but again she doesn't respond.

"Her and Wanda have spent the last three months telling Y/n that it should have been her and not you. I guess she finally found a way to make that true" Bucky finally breaks the silence and my heart with it. "What?" I gasp, turning to look between the two of them. "Did you really say that to her?" I ask, shocked that Yelena could do something so horrible to Y/n. They've always been so close.

When both of them fail to respond, I stand up ready to leave. I can't believe this. "Natasha wait." Fury tries to stop me. "No! From what I can work out, these two pushed Y/n so far that she has killed herself to bring me back. That's what you're telling me without actually telling me isn't it." I snap, tears filling my eyes. "We don't know exactly what happened." Fury responds but I just scoff. "She stole a quinjet and flew to Vormir. You found me and Y/n was nowhere to be seen. I think we all know what happened." I retort.

Quickly turning to face Yelena and Wanda, I feel my anger build. "I'm so angry at you. It was my choice! I decided it had to be me. I had my chance at living and making things right. Y/n still had so much of her life ahead of her. She was in there longer than us Yelena. She had you, Wanda and she was happy. I couldn't take that away from her or you! I made the decision to jump because I thought that if it was Y/n, you'd be left without a girlfriend and you your favourite sister." I yell, jabbing my finger in the direction of Wanda and Yelena.

"Fuck! It was my choice! It was meant to be me. But now I hear that she's spent the last three months without anyone whilst she went through grief, being told it was her fault and she should have died. Her last three months were probably miserable, and you can't change that. She's gone. Y/n is dead. Do you realise that? She's not going to magically rematerialize. And it's all your fault!" I rant, anger and an overwhelming sadness taking over me.

At my words, I see the realisation hit Yelena and Wanda. Tears start to fall down their cheeks. "I jumped so she could have the life you promised me she would have. A life where she would be loved and protected. A life where you would never hurt her. But it couldn't be any further from the truth!" I spit at Wanda, venom lacing my tone.

"And you. How can you even treat our sister like that. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forgive you." I turn to Yelena, my heart aching knowing I've lost two sisters today. Not allowing them time to respond, I storm off to what used to be my room. Ignoring the calls from behind me.

When I reach the accommodation floor, I find myself stuck outside Y/n's door. My hand hovering over the handle. There is a part of me that is wishing this is some sick joke and I'll open this door to see her sat on her bed, drawing, or listening to music. That she'll actually be alive, and I won't have to face living in this world without my sister. The sister that gave me my humanity.

Slowly I push the door open, and I instantly get enveloped by her scent. Tears once again prickle at my eyes when I see the cold room is empty. Wanting to feel closer to her, I move further into the room and towards her desk where I spot a USB sat on an otherwise spotless desk.

Pulling her desk chair out, I sit and turn on her laptop. Letting out a teary laugh when I see the photo of her, Yelena, and I when we were drunk on a night out. We look the happiest we've ever been. It was one of the first times we'd been able to just forget about life all together and this photo represented that. I reach out and rest my fingers over her face. "Oh, moya malen'kaya sestra. (My little sister) I'm sorry I failed you." I cry as the thought of not seeing her again hits me.

Composing myself, I plug in the USB and open it to see there is only one file on it. A video file entitled "For Natasha." Hesitantly, I click on the file and let out a sob when I see Y/n's face appear on the screen. Straight away I notice that she's barely slept and there is a pain in her eyes I have not seen since we saved her from the red room.

Video message

Hey Nat. I really hope that you are watching this. If you are, it means that I finally did something right and managed to rectify the mistake that I made that day on Vormir. I never should have let you jump.

You see, the thing is about you Natasha, is you don't see your worth. You believe the trauma that you went through as a child is something that you must atone for, for the rest of your life. Despite telling Yelena, me and countless other widows how our actions were not our fault, you failed to allow yourself the same courtesy.

Since joining Shield and then the Avengers, you have done far more good than you ever did bad. Not that you had anything to make up for in life. You had every right to live a normal life, to try and move on from the horrors of your past. But instead, you set your mind to saving others who couldn't save themselves.

Don't tell the others, but you were the true hero of the Avengers. Your intentions were the purest. You were not blinded by money, fame, or righteousness. You were doing everything you could to try and drive out evil from this world. To stop others having to experience a pain like you did.

It's why I decided to jump. Why it should have been me that made that sacrifice. You had already given enough. It was your time to live your life in peace. If you had chosen to carry on your life as an Avenger, then so be it. But it would have been your choice.

The world needs Natasha Romanoff. Yelena, Clint, Shield, hell even my girlfriend, needed you more than me. It's why you never should have given your life that day. It's why I was the logical choice. The only choice.

Yes, hearing that being reiterated by people I love has been hard to hear these last few months. But it's the truth. It's why I tried so hard to find away that I could rectify that mistake and make the world right again. I think I finally have that answer now. A way that I might be able to bring you back. I pray that this works and maybe Yelena and Wanda can stop hating me. Not that I'll know, I guess.

I know that everyone will be able to move one without me in their lives. But you, well we know the world deserves and needs Natasha Romanoff. I just hope that I'm able to give it to them.

If you are sat watching this Nat. Please know how much I love you. You are the reason that I experienced freedom and free will for the first time. You gave me a family, a chance at love. All things that I thought I would never experience. You saved me in more ways than one and I will always be eternally grateful for that.

Being able to call you my sister has been the greatest honour Nat. I love you with everything I have, and I hope that one day, we may see each other again. In a life where there are no expectations of us. A life where we're free to live as we want. But before that time, live your life to the fullest. Enjoy it and have a vodka for me. Ya tebya lyublyu, moya sestra. Do svidaniya. (I love you, my sister. Goodbye.)

I feel the sobs wrack over me as the screen goes black. I feel grief wash over me in waves. It physically hurts to know that she sacrificed herself for me. For her to believe that this world needs me more than it needed her. She is a light that shone brighter than anyone I had ever met. But now that light is extinguished.

With my grief overwhelming me, I feel the sudden need to leave her room. Being surrounded by her things, knowing she'll never be here again is just adding to the pain. As I stand and turn around, I spot Wanda and Yelena crying in the doorway, clearly having overheard the video.

"Natash..." "Don't." I hold my hand up to stop Wanda straight away. "She needed you. Both of you. But you were selfish and put your own grief above hers. You could have supported each other. Grieved together, moved on together and had a life together. But instead, everything is ruined." I express, pain lacing my voice.

"Natasha please." Yelena practically begs, reaching out to take my hand but I'm quick to snatch it away. "No. As far as I'm concerned, I lost two sisters today." I state before barging past them both and to my own room. Quickly locking the door behind me.

I fall onto the bed, the whole day becoming overwhelming. I don't know where to go from here. How do I live a life that doesn't have her in it. How am I supposed to live like she told me to, when I can't share it with her. I feel at a complete loss. Of all the things I have sacrificed, my own life included, this was one I was too selfish to give. But have ended up losing anyway. 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #romanoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader

[esouliie]

- TEARS ON THE GRAND PIANO

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader (mini series)

– synopsis: moving on from the only person you’ve ever loved is proving to be hard… so hard that hiring an escort seems to be the only way forward.

– warnings: a lil angst and comfort to start us off, welcome to the prologue, hope you enjoy!

2ND AUGUST 2016

All is quiet in the compound.

In the middle of the night, you find yourself seated at your piano, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp. Your fingers move wearily across the keys, trying to breathe life into the notes of a song that has been evolving in your mind since the day you met Wanda.

The melody is your escape, a sanctuary from the weight of the Sokovian Accords and the chaos that seems to envelop your world.

Exhaustion clings to you like a heavy cloak, but the song demands to be finished. Each note is a release, a fragment of emotion woven into the fabric of the music.

Ever since that ill-fated mission in Lagos, the Avengers' world has been turned upside down. The compound, once a haven of camaraderie, now echoes with the tension born of differing opinions on the Accords. It's torn your makeshift family apart, leaving you grappling with your own stance on the matter.

It is expected of you as a super-powered member and also as the reason for Lagos being a failure. The plan had gone awry, and in the chaos, you deviated from the carefully laid out strategy. Overwhelmed by the enemy, your powers were not enough. It was Wanda who came to your rescue, a selfless act that saved your life but led to a devastating consequence.

The explosion in the building, full of innocent people, sat solid on your conscience. And now the weight of responsibility hangs heavy on your shoulders as you try to find solace in the music you create. The piano, an old friend, is both a refuge and a confidant in these trying times.

You're so engrossed in your composition that you fail to notice the subtle creak of the door as Wanda steps into the room, her silhouette framed by the dim light.

She watches you for a moment, concern etched on her face.

“Why are you still awake?" she asks, her voice soft and filled with genuine worry.

You don't immediately respond, caught in the grip of your creative trance.

"Couldn't sleep," you admit, the weariness evident in your voice. "Needed to get this out."

Wanda's gaze softens, understanding the therapeutic power of your music. But her concern doesn't wane.

"And you? Why are you up?" You inquire, curious about the restlessness that brought her into your space.

A hint of sadness crosses her features as she confesses, "I had another nightmare.”

That hasn’t happened in a while, only on a rare occurrence since she started to heal from the events in Sokovia. Her war-torn homeland.

The pain of her brother's death used to haunt her dreams frequently, the agony vivid and raw in her memory. You remember when she first told you how it felt that day, the overwhelming emptiness as she felt her brother’s life slip away as if it were her own.

That was the first time she lost control of her powers.

A surge of empathy washes over you, and you instinctively reach out to touch her hand.

"I'm sorry.” You whisper, your own exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

She manages a small smile, her eyes lighting up.

“Well, I was thinking," she begins, her tone almost conspiratorial, "maybe you could come sleep in my room tonight. You know, like a sleepover?”

You can't resist the charming plea in her eyes, even though you know it’s all fake. Laced with fear of falling asleep just to end up back in another nightmare.

Usually, the sleepover ends with her clinging onto you tightly, whatever movie you both decided on long forgotten, as she sleeps peacefully. The nightmares suddenly gone as soon as you're around.

“Alright." You agree, setting aside your messy sheets. "Lead the way, m’lady."

The piano sits in silent anticipation as you follow Wanda out of the room, leaving the notes hanging in the air.

Later into the night, you both settle into her bed, the warmth of shared dreams replace the chill of nightmares. Wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence, you both drift into a peaceful sleep, leaving the half-finished melody to linger in the stillness of the night and challenges that await with the morning sun.

That was the last time you slept with Wanda.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #cr: @florietas

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟓

➯ Y/N ONLY WANTS ONE THING AND HARRY IS LEARNING TO RELAX ENOUGH TO GIVE IT TO HER. ✰ demon!harry resolved angst. sexual content. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 16.6k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Y/N is trying really hard not to cry.

Partly because once she does open the floodgates there is no going back in her admittance of how deeply she needs Harry and partly because if she starts she knows she won’t stop and he hasn’t even been gone a full minute.

ㅤㅤ

When she’d woken up, lax underneath his sweet smelling sheets, she knew—knew that if she didn’t go home that morning that she would never leave. And Harry’s lack of presence beside her was a blessing, otherwise she knows she would’ve been coaxed back to her fantasy land (that she’d tried so hard to distance herself from).

He hadn’t said much when she appeared meekly in front of him; had had a sliver of hope that the blissed out expression she had fallen asleep with might have stayed, but he could tell that she’d made her decision. And he hadn’t tried to change her mind, almost to Y/N’s disappointment—did he not want her as much as she thought he might? Was he fighting their connection and winning?

But Harry’s heart was heavy in his chest. Still is now, as he stands in front of her, back in her own living room.

“Thank you, Harry,” Y/N reluctantly starts, “for… for a lot of things.” She smiles sadly at the ground, willing herself not to tear up. She wonders how she would be feeling if their souls weren’t bound. Relief, perhaps. Or nothing at all.

He watches her. Notices the subtle clench of her eyelids to press the tears back in and the way her palms flatten against her thighs. He should say something but the words don’t form.

“I know this can’t have been the most exciting week of your life, but I definitely won’t forget it any time soon.” What are you saying? She swallows. “Will I see you again?” Y/N lifts her eyes up to meet his devastating green, brows furrowed in the slightest indication of his discontent.

“If you ever need the help of a demon,” Harry straightens his posture, “I’m sure I can find my way back.”

That’s not the circumstance she meant and they both know it. Y/N fails to hide the disappointment on her face but doesn’t voice it.

“Okay,” she whispers, voice intending to be louder but her throat clogs. Harry wants to swoop her up in his arms—but he doesn’t. He steps back.

“Bye, Bambi.” Y/N feels her lungs quiver under the weight of the sad gasp she nearly inhales, tears well on their way to clouding her vision. But she blinks them away quickly; refuses to miss the last sight of him as he looks at her. He’s doing a much better job of hiding his pain but Y/N can feel it, or at least she believes she can—if it makes her feel better about the way she’s ready to sob.

Harry gives her one final small smile, failing to reach his eyes, and then he’s gone. Completely and utterly absent, with the gentle breeze his leave creates whirling his usually soothing scent right into Y/N’s face. Only this time it smells bitter. And her waterline is so close to spilling over but she refuses to blink—instead knuckles at her eyes furiously and lets out some deep breaths. More open-mouthed forcings of air than controlled breathing but it works.

ㅤㅤ

She stands in her living room, head tilted back towards the ceiling, for longer than she’d like to admit until the jarring sound of her phone jolts her out of her maladaptive thinking. Another text from Sarah.

just making sure you’re alive…

haven’t heard from u in a couple days, u ok?

Y/N sighs as guilt rushes over her and temporarily replaces the despair. It’s not like she has intentionally been ignoring her friend but it was hard to reply to a ‘how are u?’ and a ‘u ok?’ text when there were no words to reply with. She already knows she won’t be telling Sarah anything, had known from the first day, and it eats away inside of her but she’s adamant it’s for the best.

hey, sorry i haven’t replied. been busy. i’m okay, how are you? x 

The telling bubbles that indicate Sarah is replying appear as soon as Y/N hits send and she deflates a little.

HELLO!

i’ve missed u

i’m good, slumped at work but you know how that is.

u free to meet up soon?

She’ll admit she does smile a little at her friend’s enthusiasm—nice to know that she’s cared about—and quickly types a response with the promise of being available at the weekend. Sarah seems satisfied with her answer and promises that they’ll have a good catch up. And whilst Y/N is relieved to not have to pretend that everything is okay anymore, as she tosses her phone towards her sofa, she’s once again left with her thoughts. The only thoughts her brain is capable of having; about Harry.

Imogen looks shocked to see Y/N sit down at her desk—the truth lingering between them as they exchange eye contact. She’d tried to stay at home, she really had, but nothing could grab her attention and nothing seemed important enough to warrant doing.

So she worked. For the rest of the week, she gets up and goes to work. But whilst she may be mimicking a normal life, hers is so very far from it. She allows herself to cry. Every night when she goes to bed—the distance from Harry hurts more and more with every sleep and the tears last longer each night. But Y/N likes to think she deserves a cry, as a treat from every day being the hardest day at work she’s ever had. She thinks Harry might come back if she cries hard enough but he never does.

Once it reaches Friday, Y/N finally acknowledges the situation to Imogen, who has been very patient all week. She doesn’t get teary eyed but something else catches her interest.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N says, wheeling over to Imogen on her squeaky office chair, “how you remembered.”

Imogen’s head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She leans in, quietening her voice. “Harry put a spell—a glamour—on the building. To make everyone forget about the whole incident… But you remembered that you prayed and that would’ve happened the day before. Harry even made you forget that he took me home.”

Imogen gasps. “I knew I recognised him, I do remember that now… in the bathroom.” Gently, she places a hand on Y/N’s knee. “We’re talking about Lucifer here, babe. He’s the most powerful being on the planet… I know I’m not very experienced in the matter but surely he overrides everything. At least, that’s what makes the most sense, considering Harry’s spell malarkey didn’t work on me. And you know, maybe my angel blood was finally doing me some good.”

Y/N sighs. “Yeah… I don’t know why I can’t stop analysing everything—nothing is going to change. I just—” she pauses, inhaling, “I miss him,” shuffling uncomfortably, clearing her throat, eyes darting anywhere but her friend’s face. “I think I’ll always miss him—I mean if our souls are bound,” she laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m fucked.”

“Oh, babe,” Imogen pulls Y/N in for a hug, knees bashing awkwardly as they both lean forward on their respective chairs. “I’ll give Harry a right piece of my mind the next time I see him. Using his fuckery to hypnotise me,” she tuts.

Y/N pulls away with a small smile. “It’s called mind compulsion, I think.”

“Well, my mind is feeling rather compulsed to punch him.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she laughs and Imogen smiles, not mentioning the glossy look in Y/N’s eyes.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Y/N’s heart warms slightly, looking up from her desk as she gets ready to go home.

“That’s okay, Gen,” she smiles softly. Imogen doesn’t look convinced, worry plastered across her features. “I’m so tired I think I’ll pass straight out as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you, though. Really.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N does not, in fact, fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her head doesn’t even get close enough for that to happen. As soon as she hears the fateful click of her front door shutting, she’s letting her bag fall to the floor and her hands cover her face. The tears hold themselves back but her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace—so painfully.

Every breath feels like another step taken away from Harry. He’s gone and she’s never going to see him again. She’s going to meet someone, force herself to fall in love and pretend that she is happy, have a beautiful family that fills the void but only for a little while—and still be longing for Harry until the day she dies.

It’s a hollow feeling, one of panic. The realisation that this could be her life now. That she will never be truly happy again because a part of her will always be missing. Y/N slaps her hands against the door behind her in an attempt to steady her fall as she sinks to the ground. Her head makes contact with the wood heavily as she stares up at the ceiling. Her breathing is uncontrollable now, so desperate to fill her lungs that her lungs refuse; they form an impenetrable wall and won’t let anything in. 

Y/N’s palms are sweaty on her knees, huddled to her chest. And then they’re wet on her eyes as her waterline starts to overflow, leaving hot salty trails down her cheeks and sobs that rip out of her chest. She’s never known crying to hurt like this. Even during the torturous week she’s had, when she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep each night, it hadn’t stung and torn through her like it is right now. Her head is pounding and foggy and she’s awfully congested, tears coating her face and pooling in her palms that are pressing numbingly into her sockets.

She doesn’t know anything. Other than that she needs Harry so much she thinks she might die from crying otherwise. Maybe her tears will start to fill her lungs and she’ll drown, or her ribs will crack from the force at which her shoulders are shaking and puncture her heart. The cause of death will be listed as the most pathetic of heartbreaks and she will be pitied by the masses.

His name is on a loop inside her head and he is all she can see behind her eyelids. She’s thinking of him so hard that she starts to smell him. And then hear his voice. And then feel his hands on her knees, trailing up to grasp at her wrists and pull them gently away from her face.

“Baby,” she hears Harry coo. Y/N gasps, revealing her sad, puffy face to him. She thinks she’s hallucinating but seeing him only makes her cry harder, eyes scrunching up and downturned lips letting out another sob. She’s pulled into Harry’s lap and he feels so real but Y/N can’t process what’s going on as she cries into his collarbone, soaking his shirt. Harry’s large palm is warm on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions as he mumbles things Y/N can’t hear into her hair. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice is thick; his name barely distinguishable but he knows. Squeezes her tighter against his body, arms wrapped around her back. She’s sat so close in his lap he thinks they might fuse together—he’d be okay with that.

It’s sudden—the way Y/N’s tears stop and her lungs break down their walls to let the much-needed air in. Her heart starts beating at a more steady rate as she inhales Harry—body relaxing into his—and her brain starts to calm down, fog shifting as it realises what’s going on. That nothing is missing anymore.

ㅤㅤ

Now, with a clearer head, Y/N starts to feel a little shy. She knows how rough she must look, water trails staining her skin, hands shaking, and limbs too heavy to hold up. Harry’s comforting hands hold her close to his chest as she breathes against his neck, but Y/N pushes against him to sit back and cover her face, desperate to wipe away some of her despair.

Harry cups her cheeks, nudging her hands out of the way and wiping the salty tracks from her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, furrowed brows relaxing somewhat. It’s a little humiliating when she feels him thumb underneath her nose, no doubt swiping away snot—she never thought she’d have anyone uncaringly clean her up like that and it causes an endeared warmth to blossom throughout her chest.

“You’re okay,” Harry says again, quiet enough that Y/N might think he fears the power of his own voice. His hands are so soft and warm as they hold her, mollifying her already leaden limbs as she melts even further into him, head leaning into his grasp. He drops a longing kiss to her forehead, pouring his every fibre into trying to soak up Y/N’s pain.

She brings her hands up to cover Harry’s, wishing she could breathe in better through her nose to unashamedly bask in his scent. “You heard me?” She asks.

“Every day.”

Y/N pulls back just enough so Harry’s lips leave her forehead, catching his gaze. His composure is commendable, and maybe if she wasn’t just about ready to dive into his eyes then it would be less obvious to her that he was hurting too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thinking of every tear she has shed over the last few nights and how loudly they must’ve echoed in Harry’s head.

“No.” He holds her face tighter, angling it up. He’s stern. “Don’t say that. I was trying to keep my distance. I thought— You have nothing to be sorry about, Bambi.” Harry strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, fingers gently buried in her hair. “I’m sorry. I could’ve come sooner—I let you cry,” he closes his eyes, brows kinked.

“Hey,” Y/N frowns. “If I can’t apologise, neither can you,” she shuffles even closer on Harry’s lap (not that she can get any closer but it feels necessary). She brings her own hands up to his face and delicately brushes his eyebrows—trails a finger down the bridge of his nose before using both her index fingers to pull at the corners of his mouth to twist them up into a smile. Harry relents, revealing his dimple in a smile he lets Y/N have. 

They sit there, with their faces in each other’s hands for longer than either of them know, only shifting into a more comfortable position when Harry hugs Y/N to his chest once more and rests his head atop hers. Both of their minds are running wild but neither of them want to be the one who disrupts the silence—bursts the bubble. Talking can wait a little while longer.

Harry takes her thighs and forces them even tighter around him, arms wrapping around her back securely. Even if Y/N wanted to move, their bodies wouldn’t allow it. He hugs her with so much force, Y/N’s breath hitches and Harry releases his grip slightly with a soft apology. She only nestles into his neck further, trapped hands resting happily on his chest. Their hearts beat together, steady and safe, and the places their skin touches liquify in bliss.

When Harry notices the shift in Y/N’s breathing he starts rubbing her back once more, whispering, “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” He can feel the flutter of her lashes against his neck and leans back just enough so she can’t bury in further. “Come on,” he tries again when she groans, “have you eaten?”

“No,” Y/N grumbles, wishing Harry would just let her nap on him. “Let me sleep.”

But Harry is already starting to get to his feet, hands securely under her thighs to keep her wrapped around him as he stands up with zero effort—Y/N nearly forgets his strength and agility surpasses that of an average person. She says nothing more, content with the lack of moving she has to do. He sets her down at her kitchen table—places her right on top of it. Y/N’s legs aren’t her own; they hang on tight when Harry tries to step back and she knows she should let go, that her moment of vulnerability has passed and she should act appropriately, but the possibility that he might disappear is knocking around invasively in her skull.

Harry treats her delicately—doesn’t tease. “I won’t be long.” He tucks her hair behind her ears. “You care what you have?” Y/N shakes her head, eyes failing to conceal her emotions. They’re wide, and overwhelmed, and tired. Harry smiles softly, holding her gaze for a second, his eyes flicking over her face; really there, really real. They get stuck in the moment again, taking one another in, before Harry forces himself to look away. He unlinks Y/N’s legs from around him and leaves her with an uncharacteristic tap to her nose with his forefinger that has her pulling away in faux annoyance, a small smile revealing her true feelings.

ㅤㅤ

They don’t talk whilst she eats. Harry comes back with a small bowl of leftover stir fry and helps her down from the table wordlessly, pulling out her chair and placing the food in front of her. He sits opposite and watches thoughtfully. Y/N doesn’t necessarily jump with joy at the idea of someone watching her eat usually, but none of the discomfort arises, gratefully filling her stomach and returning the eye contact whenever her mouth isn’t wide open mid-bite.

Before Y/N has even swallowed her last mouthful, she’s eager to push away from the table, sure she can hear the sweet siren song of her bed calling out to her. Harry follows her movements near weightlessly, every motion graceful. There was never anything clunky or awkward about him. Y/N pauses as she places her bowl in the sink, turning around hesitantly. “You’ll stay, won’t you?” Harry nearly rolls his eyes at the silly question—and maybe bites back a derisive remark—instead nodding assertively, calming her as much as possible without using his perfumed magic. (He decided a while ago he wouldn’t unless she asked—and even when she had asked, on the night that he’d stayed in her room to make sure she was okay, there was still a lingering guilt churning around inside him at the knowledge of his manipulation.)

“Of course I will,” he verbally confirms, following Y/N once again when she meekly walks past him through the doorway and heads towards her bedroom. Harry assumes she must be feeling a little embarrassed, always so determined to minimise her behaviour before tonight. The obvious display she’s presented has broken down a barrier; new for him but drastic for her. She may as well have removed her heart from her chest and spread it out for him, or delivered it into his palms with a note that read:

this is yours now.

Harry would be sure to take care of it, but he’s unconvinced Y/N knows that.

ㅤㅤ

She busies herself in the bathroom, mind running as she tries to plan some semblance of what she wishes to say in her head. When she pushes the door open however, and sees Harry sitting on the edge of her bed, her mouth starts running before her brain does.

“I don’t want you to go—” her skin warms and her eyes scrunch when she realises she’s blurted out the words that should’ve been hinted at much more gracefully. But she continues. “I mean— after tonight—” she rushes, “not because of the soul thing…or maybe it is but I don’t care.” Harry listens with a soft and watchful gaze. “It doesn’t bother me… and I want you to stay in my life and I know our souls being connected makes it complicated but I’m not just saying this. And it’s not just because of my unhinged crying, although it did suck…” Y/N lowers her voice, almost scared to admit it, “I think I would’ve cried anyway, tethered or not.”

Harry is processing her words for no longer than three seconds before Y/N starts up again, his miniscule silence as he carefully chooses his reply stirring a panic up inside her. “I know you probably don’t feel the same… or you don’t want to.” Harry sits up, mouth opening to correct her but she keeps talking. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me…”

“Y/N—”

“—But I thought you might be okay with becoming friends?”

“Y/N—”

“—Or if not I could just push someone else down the stairs and—”

“Y/N!” Harry finally cuts through her. His voice is powerful, commanding, but still so delicate it barely disturbs the particles around them. She looks at him properly, pulling herself out of her head, with wide eyes. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, hm? Come here, silly girl.” He opens his arms and widens his legs so Y/N can step between them. Warm palms rest against her hips.

“I feel the same way. And I want to.”

His words light up inside of Y/N; they trail into her ears and slick down her neck. Seep into her skin and vibrate through her bones.

“Does that make you happy?” He strokes his thumbs against her hip bones, honey-dripping tone placing a coy smile onto Y/N’s face as she bites her lip in an attempt to hide it. 

She nods. “Yes.”

And she nearly stays happy too. Nearly lets her shoulders relax and her protective layer fall away. Until Harry continues speaking.

“But—”

“No,” Y/N’s smile drops. “No, there’s no but. Harry, please.” She tries to step back but Harry slides his hands around her body. 

“When we were at the cottage,” he starts, “I was ready to keep you forever. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.” His eyes round out as they look up at her. “But how could that have been fair? I’m no good, Y/N, really—”

“—Don’t say that.” She grabs his shoulders.

“Please, Y/N. I’m old, and I do bad things, and whenever I am with you I am terrified you might suddenly realise what I am. You deserve a nice, human boy much better than me, who doesn’t put you in danger and can give you a normal life. I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

A million things rush through Y/N’s head. Sadness and sympathy for the way Harry talks of himself, and then frustration and denial that he could truly believe that. “Harry,” she starts, frowning face mirroring his own, “You are better.”

His expression stays the same, large eyes hesitant and unconvinced, not quite understanding what she is saying.

“You have been kinder to me than any human girl or boy—well, except for my friends but I don’t mean like that,” she pauses. “To say you are not good enough isn’t fair, especially when I’ll be comparing everyone I ever meet to you. And you will always come out on top.” Harry’s face softens and his hands pull Y/N in closer. “I know what you are, Harry. It doesn’t scare me,” she whispers, cupping his face tenderly. “I like liking you. It feels good.” She lets her eyes close, forehead tipping down to rest against his and he angles his head up. She listens to the way he breathes, slow and deep, and his silence unnerves her once more. “Say something,” she exhales.

“It’s too dangerous, I— Lucifer mentioned a demon named Zennith, that apparently I used to know but I don’t remember. He sent the demon after you and I don’t know what he wants or where he is. I could find him but I was half-hoping that if I ignored it, he would give up. I don’t even know if Lucifer was telling the truth. But nothing threatening has happened to you since Niall took care of the demon and I like things that way.”

Y/N doesn’t care. “I don’t care,” she tells him so, “you protect me.” And he does, better than anyone else could possibly attempt to.

Harry’s holding himself back; they both know it. Both know that he’s letting his worries get the better of him when nothing like this has affected him before. He’s usually so confident in his abilities to keep her safe, so what’s changed? He considers the possibility of a more permanent method of concealing her scent—one that might involve teeth, or words, or something so intimately internal that Harry has to redirect his thoughts before they get too muddy.

“Let me sit on it, yeah Bambi?” He eventually utters. It’s not a no, Y/N thinks. “I would rather never see you again in my long, immortal life than know that your pain was caused by me.” This has her eyes welling up as she clumsily lowers down onto his lap, arms thrown tight around his middle.

“Don’t say that,” Y/N speaks into his neck. “Don’t even think about it.” Her words are wet against his skin.

Harry sighs, his own face buried into the side of her head. “Always making you cry, sweet girl,” but Y/N shakes her head fervently until he smooths her hair down and holds her just as tight. “Been crying since the day we met.”

“No. M’tummy hurts, s’all.” Y/N is unconvincing but Harry smiles against her hair, mumbling a soft okay as they sit in each other’s arms once again.

ㅤ

Y/N is unsure at what point she was moved into her bed instead of on Harry’s lap on top of it, but when she wakes up in the morning and the first thing she sees is his sleeping face, logistics don’t seem important. Nothing seems important, apart from him being in front of her.

His face is serene, not a furrow or worry in sight, and his breathing is peaceful and deep. She wants to touch every inch of him—commit him to memory—but she doesn't want him to wake up. This could be it—the day he decides to never see her again, and the mere thought has Y/N closing her eyes in an attempt to will it away. Her body doesn’t function properly without him anymore. How would she possibly survive on her own?

“Y’thinking too loud,” the grumble jolts Y/N out of her depressing reverie, eyes opening to see Harry sleepily blinking at her. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles back, eyes flitting around the slivers of shirtless skin she can see. Harry reaches for her under the covers, fingers trailing up her arm. Her eyes meet his and he has a soft smile on his face, mussed hair curling around his temples. When his palm smooths up her neck and into her hair, there’s nothing more she wishes to do than sink into his touch. But she feels the need to protect herself and Harry notices the way she holds her breath.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pushes himself up and drops down closer to her.

“But you get to?” Y/N says, slightly affronted.

Harry sighs, “No, baby—” he rubs hand down his face before running it through his hair. “I’m here right now. I won’t disappear, I promise you.”

Right now. Y/N repeats it in her head. Not forever—right now. Is that enough?

“But if anything becomes dangerous you’ll leave?”

“If anything becomes dangerous I will protect you entirely. And then I will make sure you stay safe. And if that means keeping away from you then that’s what I’ll do.” He traces the shell of her ear with his finger. “Don’t be so sad, little thing.”

“Why aren’t you sad?” Y/N huffs.

“How can I be, when I am with you?”

He has to go and be so irresistibly mawkish. Y/N can’t help the way her heart swells and her pupils expand. To be so unashamedly wanted is all she has ever wished for. She reaches her own hand up, landing on his that has weaved into her hair and bringing it down to hold her face. Her lips pucker against the spongy part of his palm, and then the pad of his thumb, and each of his fingers. Harry watches her with a small smile, eyes velvety.

He can’t stop himself from surging forward to press their mouths together, liquid insides begging him to do something. Y/N sighs into Harry’s mouth, easily following his movements. It feels as though they’ve been doing this forever—waking up next to one another. He keeps a firm grasp on her hand, manoeuvring their fingers so they interlock and pushing forward so Y/N lays on her back. Harry settles between her legs, lips never straying as their mouths open wider and wider with each kiss. With his free hand, Harry dances it down Y/N’s front, the other that’s firmly squeezing hers, still holding him up. Her nipples peak underneath her shirt and Harry elicits a gasp from Y/N as he thumbs over one, not stopping for long enough to tease as he gets further and further down her body.

Y/N opens her mouth for Harry eagerly, accepting his tongue with a grateful whine. Their noses bump and their breathing is laboured but it’s flawless. And when she feels Harry trail along the waistband of her shorts she pushes her hips up into him, only to have him send her back down and smooth his big hand underneath her shirt and press into her tummy. It’s a nice force, a warm and fuzzy feeling. One that has her sinking deeper into the space Harry gets her to when they do these things.

“What am I g’na do with you?” Their lips part and his eyes are seductive, stripping her bare. 

Y/N inhales shakily before whispering, “Whatever you want.” She tries to push into his hand but his strength is vast and he drags his nails up to her sternum before returning to her stomach and reapplying pressure.

Harry hums, slanting his lips against hers again, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until he can almost feel her skin tingling with impatience. “You want me to make all the decisions, hm?” He mumbles against her mouth. When she whines in affirmation, he says, “You like having no power, don’t you? Like just lying there and taking what I give you?” Harry’s words stoke the fire in her belly, thighs twitching. Y/N’s skin grows hot as she nods, embarrassed. “You gone all quiet on me, baby?”

“I like it,” she breathes, eyes closed.

“Like what? Look at me,” Harry squeezes her hand. “Like what?”

Y/N blinks up at him, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the glint in his eyes. She wants to kiss him until all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. “I like…when you decide. Want you to do whatever you want to me…please?”

“Love how politely you beg,” Harry kisses her again, sighing into her mouth. His tongue strokes hers and makes her squirm underneath him, tentatively hooking her legs around his hips. Harry moves his hand from her tummy around to the back of her thigh, and then her ass, pushing her into him as far as she can go.

Hard meets soft and their mouths open against one another. Harry pulls away, sponging kisses down Y/N’s neck. He trails further, licking her nipples through her shirt and taking a moment to admire the wet patches. Then he pushes the fabric up just enough to kiss at her stomach, nibbling until he hears giggles mixed in with Y/N’s moans. Harry smiles against her skin, peeking up at her from underneath his lashes. She looks so beautiful, all bated breaths and glowing skin.

“Tickles,” she exhales.

Harry can’t help himself. “Oh? When I do this?” he asks, before biting into her flesh again, dotting kisses for each tooth mark he leaves. And then he blows a wet raspberry underneath her belly button, eliciting the most adorable string of shrieks and giggles he’s sure he’s ever heard. Harry shakes his head back and forth, face snug to her skin, and his hair sweeps against her. Soft as Y/N’s hand falls into it, trying to tug him away.

He unlinks their hands and brings both of his palms to her hips, holding her to him. And as he subtly slips down, his mouth starts leaving kisses again and Y/N’s laughs get caught in her throat. Harry looks up at her with a smirk, mouth hovering above her mound. Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving. But he’s barely even begun to tease yet. 

Slowly, Harry kisses over Y/N’s shorts, down, down, until his nose is level with her clit. And Y/N’s breath turns into a whine, and then a squeal when Harry nudges it, shaking his head from side to side again. Her hips buck into his face and he lets her, holds her closer to him as he inhales and breathes hot air onto her.

“Should I take these off or should I ruin you through your shorts, hm?” Harry gives a particularly pointed prod with his nose and Y/N gasps. “Think I could soak you through two layers?” Y/N doesn’t know anything, can only feel the immense throbbing between her legs. But Harry does all the thinking for her. “I think I could. But I won’t today,” as he tugs on the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, presenting her already wet underwear, “wanna taste you proper.”

The promise has Y/N’s stomach contracting and her hands fisting the sheets as Harry drags the flat of his tongue over her, causing her panties to stick to her as he plays and increasing the thrumming in Y/N’s body. Harry groans into her, the vibrations pulling a whimper from Y/N’s open mouth.

“You’re so responsive, Bambi,” Harry smiles against her. “I barely have to do a thing and you’re squirming underneath me.”

“Only you,” she whines, eyes finding his as he soaks his saliva over her clit, drenching her underwear further.

Harry hums, “That’s right. Just f’me, no one else.” She nods desperately. “You’re a good girl.” Y/N shivers, body begging him. “Should I make my good girl come, do you think?”

“Yes, please,” her bottom lip juts out, wet and puffy. “Need you.”

“M’needy girl needs me,” Harry pouts right back, and Y/N nearly begs again but her breath gets caught in her throat as Harry plucks her underwear to the side and licks through her folds, bottom to top. Her hips shudder and Harry forces her thighs around his head, doesn’t let an inch of space get between them. He laps at her like he may die without it, hums and groans into her, buries his nose so tightly against her clit and massages his tongue inside of her. Y/N swear she loses consciousness, head thrown back and eyes rolling—every sense overwhelmed. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

And the coil in her belly is already tightening, and Y/N knows she could let go so easily, she’s already so nearly there. But then a harsh blaring coming from her bedside table has her jumping from her skin. Harry doesn’t flinch, carries on practically devouring her. “What is that?” he speaks into her, arm thrown over her waist holding her down.

Y/N can’t talk, just blindly slaps for her phone to turn her alarm off. “I’m—” she tries, “seeing—Sarah—” her words come out broken and Harry hums against her, speeding up his movements. Y/N cries out, hands landing in his hair.

“Better come then,” Harry mumbles, sucking her clit into his mouth hard and then laving his tongue over her in tight circles. “Be a good girl and come for me, Bambi.” She whimpers as his tongue speeds up and one of his hands trails up her chest, pushing her shirt out of the way to reveal her breasts. He flicks at her nipple, pinches and squeezes and feels her pulsate against his chin.

She’s garbling his name, body wound up tight and he’s whispering into her, “I know, I know, just come for me.” Her orgasm is right there, she’s so close, and all it takes is for Harry to take his other hand and sink a single finger into her drippy hole and she’s clenching down around him, crying out as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut and tears slide down her temples as Harry licks her through it, humming. He can’t take his eyes off of her, splayed out so pretty for him, contracting around his finger and pulling on his hair.

“Good girl,” he whispers against her, parting from her for a moment to give her a little respite, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh. Y/N blinks, looking down at him with a spacey expression and a wet face. She opens her mouth to speak but the noise gets lodged in her throat.

“That was—really nice,” a tear rolls down her cheek.

Harry smiles and presses a longing kiss to the crease of her thigh, “Yeah? Those good tears?” Y/N nods fervently. He kisses her again, and again, slowly moving back to her centre where he sponges his lips over her clit.

Y/N jumps and gasps. “Too sensitive!” But Harry strokes her hip bones gently and slicks his tongue through her folds, avoiding her pearl.

“I know, just le’ me clean you up.”

“Harry… I need to get dressed,” Y/N sighs, without attempting to move. Her head just sinks further into the pillow as her rapid heartbeat starts to calm down whilst Harry sweetly tends to her. She runs her hands through his hair and then lets it brush against her tummy, sighing as she watches the way his eyes flutter.

Just as her body hints at the idea of building back up, Harry reluctantly pulls away with glistening lips. He peels her legs from around his shoulders and climbs up to lean over her, stroking her hair from her face. Y/N nearly melts under his gaze but then she forces a frown onto her face.

Harry pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oi. What’re you grumpy about now?”

“If you’re not here when I get back, I am going to murder you, Harry.”

He laughs, dropping a wet kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry teleports to Niall’s house and quickly ushers him to follow, settling when they’re both in Y/N’s living room.

“Could’ve been preoccupied, you know?” Niall glowers. 

“Well, you weren’t.”

“I could’ve been—”

“—Did you find anything?”

Niall stares at Harry for a moment, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. For once, Harry doesn’t roll his eyes or tell him to just spit it out, instead taking a seat on Y/N’s armchair and gesturing to the sofa for Niall.

“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid, Harry. Just more of what you already know—that the unbinding incantation is lethal to humans. I’m sorry.”

Harry feels rather unaffected and Niall notices but says nothing. He’s not sure he wants to untether their souls now even if they could. He’s in too deep.

“But,” Niall continues, “I did read that as long as you don’t kiss her, your feelings should remain more manageable. Something about giving in to your souls.”

Harry looks at Niall. Niall blinks. “Harry,” he deadpans. “You haven’t.”

“Have you ever tried not wanting to kiss your fucking soulmate, Niall?”

His friend lets out a breath, leaning further back into the sofa. “Well, you’re fucked then, mate.”

Harry doesn’t necessarily agree. He might have a week ago but his priorities have changed in that short span of time. 

“Thanks for looking,” Harry finally says.

Niall looks solemn. “What are you going to do now?”

Harry smiles, “Y/N threatened murder if she came back and I wasn’t here, so…”

“Man, you are down bad.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs.

ㅤㅤ

Meanwhile, Y/N is being grilled by Sarah for seeming different lately.

“I can’t tell if you’re on cloud nine or on tenterhooks expecting to hear bad news.”

“Maybe I’m both. Happier than I’ve ever been but waiting for it to go up in flames.”

Harry wakes up before Y/N the next morning.

(She had arrived home the day previous with bated breaths, assuring Harry and his smug face that she was serious about the murder if he hadn't been there. But he just looked at her with his teasing green eyes and coaxed her into his lap where he mocked until she squirmed.)

He wakes up with a renewed vigour, feeling his irises practically disappear as he takes in Y/N’s sleeping form. Hair a mess, face soft and unburdened of anxiety, and limbs relaxed right on top of Harry. He feels a sense of self-accomplishment that in her unconsciousness she gravitated towards him, and the longer he looks at her beautiful face, the more sure he is that he’s going to promise her longer than just right now.

In fact, however hard it is to sneak out from underneath her, he decides he’ll surprise her with breakfast too and his heart swells at the picture of her waking up in his head. She’d probably half-heartedly grumble at him for waking her up and then pretend not to be grateful for the food he presents.

Harry is busy for a little while, taking things slower than he usually would to try and stay as silent as possible. He’s just taking soft-boiled eggs off the hob when he hears it—Y/N’s cry. Everything is turned off and Harry is hurrying into her bedroom immediately, seeing her start to thrash about under the covers.

“Hey, hey,” he tries, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Wake up, Y/N.” A tear rolls down her nose and Harry is quick to brush it away, gently manoeuvring her so she’s laying on her back and not her side. “It’s okay, baby, wake up,” he strokes her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing out the furrow in her brows. Nothing works. Not even as he starts to shake her shoulders—Y/N only cries harder and flails more. “Come on, Bambi,” Harry starts to panic; he tries to keep it quelled but the churning in his gut is getting stronger and stronger.

It’s when Harry jostles her particularly powerfully that her eyes shoot open and his heart nearly drops out of his body when he is greeted with complete darkness. His eyes looking back at him—gone are her beautiful irises, replaced by black, soulless, foreboding ovals.

He’s seen this before, knows what’s happening, but never has he dealt with it affecting someone he cares about more than life itself. Any part of trying to help her could actually harm her.

Harry doesn’t have to guess very hard as to who it is that’s controlling her dream, and he berates himself for trying to pretend that someone didn’t exist instead of killing him days ago. How could he let this happen to her? If Harry weren’t here right now, she could be stuck in this state for however long Zennith decided. Hours, days, or even weeks.

Usually Harry would be preparing to perform a ritual to wake up whoever was inflicted, but he doesn’t have anything and his hands are shaking like leaves. He needs to pull himself together. Y/N’s eyes are still open and it’s upsetting Harry to a fault; he’ll never be useful if he falls apart. 

Gently, he brushes her eyelids closed, unnerved at how inhuman she looks. An idea plants its roots in Harry’s head as he swipes away more of Y/N’s tears, delicately holding her arms down so she doesn’t writhe. He’d never attempted it in this context before, but maybe…

ㅤㅤ

Y/N will never sleep again. She’s sure of it. The image before her is undoubtedly one that will stick with her for the rest of her measly life.

She doesn’t even remember waking up—although she’s pretty sure she isn’t fully awake because the room she is in isn't a room. It’s a lack of space, a vast darkness, with her sat in the middle and an unsettling looking man standing two feet away. She can’t move, she can’t speak, she can only blink, and feel hot streams running down her face.

“Hello, Y/N. It seems I finally entered the right person’s dreams.” His voice is slimy. Was this the demon Harry had mentioned? What was his name? “You are very pretty,” the man says, and a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. “What’s a little human like you doing with a demon like Harry?”

Having more fun than I am with you, she thinks.

“He’s a bad man, Y/N. I’m sure he’s mentioned me, filled your head with lies.”

He doesn’t even remember you.

“He might be nice to you now, but one day he will only succumb to his true nature and kill you. He tried to kill me once.”

You probably deserved it, Y/N thinks, but the demon’s face contorts and then she realises she said it out loud. She goes to speak again but she can’t; he’s controlling her.

“Ah, yes, I see he has already tainted you.” He steps closer. Y/N desperately wishes to move backwards but none of her body responds. “That’s okay. A shame but nothing I can’t change. What is necessary will be done.”

Y/N doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, sure he must be mentally unhinged, but it doesn’t unsettle her any less as he gets closer and closer. The uncontrollable tears feel nearly scalding on her skin and she won’t blink in fear of her own safety.

“When you wake, I want you to come and find me.” His eyes darken like Harry’s, but Y/N can’t help but think that they suit Harry far better and are much less disturbing on him. “I think you’ll be much happier with me, as my little pet.” He reaches his hand out towards her face and Y/N wills every part of her being to flinch away, despite no movement happening. She feels no touch however, and notices his fingers trace the air around her cheek. He can’t, perhaps.

There’s no doubt in Y/N’s mind that whatever words the demon is speaking are supposed to have some hypnotic effect on her—but nothing in her mind changes. Nothing comes over her in a strung-out realisation, her eyes don’t round out in newfound adoration and her heart doesn’t start to speed up.

Well, it does, but not out of endearment. She can only hope her connection with Harry’s soul is what's keeping her unscathed.

The demon keeps speaking and Y/N still can’t remember his name, but her neck suddenly starts to sting and she flinches. She actually, physically moves. He looks at her, puzzled, before letting out a quiet curse.

“You come and find me,” is that last thing she hears, each word more muffled than the last as her eyes droop closed and the pain in her neck is the last thing she feels.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wakes up with a cry, body surging forward and immediately crashing into a hard chest. Harry. It takes her a second to realise that the pain from her dream is real, and that Harry is the cause of it, as she feels his teeth pull away from her neck and watches as he leans back to see her face. She swears his eyes are glassy.

“I’m sorry, are you okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry exhales, words jumbled. She’s never seen him lack composure—it’s disconcerting. He cups her face and wipes her tears away, pulling her up and into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her.

“Harry?” Y/N croaks, “My neck,” she lifts a heavy hand up to touch but Harry takes it delicately.

“I know, sweetheart, m’sorry,” he lays her back down against the pillows and lightly laps at her neck, cleaning up the blood and laving over the bite. His saliva feels healing, as the pain trails away and all she can feel are Harry’s soft lips leaving tender kisses over the mark. Her eyes well up—feeling vastly overwhelmed as her dream plays back in her head. Visuals of the darkness, and the maniacal demon with the wish to own her.

“Am I definitely awake?” Y/N’s lip quivers, vision blurry with tears.

Harry’s heart sinks in his chest, taking in her crestfallen and frightened expression. “You’re awake. I promise, my sweet girl.” He places a longing kiss to her forehead, thumbs determined in the cleaning of her tears. “I promise.” He kisses her nose, and then her cheek, and Y/N is turning to catch his lips—uncaring as the blood from his mouth and the salt from hers mingle together in an seismic kiss.

Y/N grips his hands desperately, tightly—as if they ground her—and Harry’s mouth presses harder to hers in return. Harder yet still tender, treating her with such fragility that only he can deliver. Her whole body feels weak and her eyelids are so heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers against her lips as they part. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken care of Zennith a long time ago.” He plants a little peck.

“Are you—going to—leave me—now?” Y/N blubs, fat drops sliding onto the pillow.

“Never,” Harry swears. “Never, Y/N, I promise.” His hands frame her entire face, as she blinks sadly up at him. Tears cloud her vision. “Was g’na tell you this morning. Was making y’brekkie ‘n’ everything.” She sniffles loudly. “I don’t want to ever be away from you again, my little Bambi.” Y/N’s face screws up as more tears fall, but these ones are less forlorn, as she tugs Harry down on top of her. He tucks his face into her neck, kissing over his bite mark once again.

When her sniffles have lessened, Harry pushes his arms underneath Y/N’s body and rolls them over so she’s resting on top of him. She sinks into him easily, limbs too heavy to hold up, and Harry’s insides roil at how weak she seems.

“Why did you bite me?” Y/N mumbles into his chest. “Like some sort of dog.”

Harry exhales a laugh and rubs a soothing palm along her back. “It’s a temporary scenting bite—they have protective qualities… among other things… I didn’t know if it would work.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “What else will it do to me?”

“You’ll probably be a little needier for a couple days. I might be too. Would be stiff right now if the circumstances were any different.”

“Oh,” she breathes, “do you want…” her hand tries to move downwards but Harry’s gathering it up immediately.

“No, baby. I was far too worried about you to be thinking with my dick. And you need rest.”

“I’mfine,” Y/N says but the words slur together and Harry has been watching her very, definitely closed eyes for the past two minutes.

“I won’t move an inch,” he promises. “Dream of me this time, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ

Sure enough, it’s as if Harry hadn’t even been breathing when Y/N reawakens after her second, much more pleasant sleep. But she stirs to the comforting feeling of his warm chest rising and falling and nuzzles her face further into his body, tucking underneath his chin like a little puppy.

He carries her (despite Y/N’s adamance that she can walk just fine), and feeds her, and even offers to dress her but Y/N insists she has full control over her body. Harry is serious though, in his worry for her—doesn’t find any part of it humorous and she has to try hard not to tease him for it.

ㅤㅤ

“I have to kill him,” Harry states from next to her. Y/N has just finished explaining the details of her dream and it jostles her a little but she surprises herself by not minding one bit.

“Okay,” she says. “What if you get hurt?”

And Harry doesn’t mean to be patronising but he laughs, “I’ll be just fine, Y/N.” 

She frowns, “I’m serious. I’m allowed to worry about you too. I don’t even know what this guy is so het up about.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, scratching at his jaw. “I wish I could remember him.” He places a hand on her knee. “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s given me more than enough reason to make sure he isn’t a problem anymore.”

Y/N nods silently.

“How’s your neck feeling?” Harry brushes his knuckle over the mark.

“Fine,” she hums. 

“Don’t feel needy or anything?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry smiles. “Then why are you gripping me so tight?”

Y/N looks down to see her fingers wrapped around his hand on her knee and she frowns. She doesn’t pull away though, she just glares at Harry who pinches her cheek in return.

“You’re cruel,” she grumbles.

Harry’s grin widens, “Yeah,” he leans in, “I’m mean,” closer, “really, so very mean,” he breathes against her mouth, eyes daring to flick to hers before they flutter closed and their lips meet. His hand takes her throat tenderly, not applying pressure, just holding as Y/N mollifies into his kiss. She turns his palm up and intertwines their fingers, squeezing subconsciously when Harry sucks on her top lip.

And he couldn’t find her any cuter, he’s sure, when she leans into him—unaware of her own movements. Harry tries moving back, just to tease, but Y/N follows him like a magnet; lips refusing to part. When he wants to actually speak, he squeezes her throat with the least amount of strength, not expecting her to melt even further into him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But he doesn’t bring it up now.

“I’m going to have Niall come here for a bit,” he mumbles against her mouth. She’s trying her hardest to keep kissing him.

“Why?” Y/N whines, too enraptured to think about anything other than Harry and his lips.

“To keep you company.” To keep you safe.

She blinks up at him then, forcing her face to distance itself farther than two inches. “No,” she pouts, doing a wonderful job of proving she isn’t feeling needy. “Do you have to go now?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Harry squeezes her hand.

And he can tell that she wants to protest further, so he leans in once again and sponges his lips all over her face—doesn’t stop until she’s giggling and struggling, trying to move away from his unrelenting tickles. She falls back and Harry moves with her, hovering over her body on the sofa as he places sloppy kisses on her skin and trails his hands down her body to find the most reactive spots.

“Harry!” she squeals, wriggling underneath him. “S-Stop!” Her hands flap about, trying to cease his torture. Harry can’t help but smile down at her, eyes shining with fulfilment. “I’ll pee!” She panics and Harry slows down but doesn’t stop.

“How do you know I’m not into that?” He teases and Y/N gasps, determined to escape his grasp.

“Harry! Gross!” And he finally stops his ministrations, leaning back to give her some space as her chest heaves. His hands rest on her waist as he sits back, taking in her mussed hair and glowing face.

“I have to go now or I’ll never do it,” he whispers. Y/N feels her heart swell at the way he’s looking at her. She understands. But she still manages to keep him over her for another ten minutes.

Zennith is pitifully easy to find.

Harry almost feels humiliated at how much the demon has affected Y/N’s life when Harry could have tracked and located him in no longer than five minutes.

Using everything he knows about Zennith, Harry closes his eyes and searches—bounces from place to place with no resistance. Is unsurprised at the lack of concealment of scent or location Zennith has in situ. He retraces moments, smells, and faces that lead Harry in the right direction until he can see a clear outline of where he needs to go.

He also sees the clear outline of an additional presence that Harry hadn’t considered he might have to deal with.

Lucifer’s new abode is similar in size and shape, the only major difference Harry notices being the colour scheme. In his previous dwelling, the Devil had an ironically mild decor, however the deep red and black walls in this interior is the first thing Harry sees, and it unnerves him some.

The fact he’s managed to find Lucifer’s residence without asking and has ambled in with entitlement does cross his mind, but Harry thinks he might get away with it when the demon in question spots him from his gaudy throne and flashes a disturbing smile with open arms.

“Harry Styles. What a wonderful surprise.”

“Hello,” he says, hands making their way behind his back in a subconscious stance.

“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Lucifer smiles, unabashed.

Harry hesitates, “Sorry… I’m looking for someone. I was led here.”

Lucifer hums, “You’re a good tracker,” and then clicks his fingers a few times, eyes never leaving Harry.

A man steps into the room. A man that Harry recognises. A man that Harry’s fists recognise. Surely not. That was nearly eighty years ago… 

They lock eyes and the demon’s suddenly fill with black. Harry matches him in defence, hands clenching by his side.

“You’re still a bully then,” Harry grits. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer sits back to enjoy the scene before him.

Zennith steps further into the room. “Funny… I don’t recall you being the one beaten to within an inch of his life.”

Harry laughs, “You’ve been hanging onto this for eighty years, have you? I didn’t even fucking know your name back then.”

He sees the frown on the demon’s face, before it’s quickly concealed. “No.” He’s sharp. “I moved on. Was happy to forget about the cunt who fucked up my face for his own enjoyment.” Harry clenches his teeth. “And then Boss was telling me about his latest fun… and your name was mentioned. Took me back, didn’t it?” His eyes glower. 

Harry is still processing that the demon before him that’s been causing him trouble is the kid he knocked out when he was nineteen (because he was shouting abuse at Harry, he feels is necessary to add). How pathetic he is to hold a grudge for nearly eighty years (may as well be one hundred if you round it up) and how entitled he seems. 

“I think you’re forgetting some details,” Harry grunts.

“Silence,” Zennith snaps, composure cracking, dark eyes close to producing fog. “Thought I would see how you were doing. See if you were still a depressed little loser. It’s been disappointing to see your disgustingly soft mingling with the humans. Even more disappointing that my friend was unable to have any fun before you vanquished him… That girl really is very pretty.”

Harry’s body tightens up at the sound of Zennith’s sleazy voice mentioning Y/N. He tries to act unbothered but anyone could see his anger double at the perverted nature of his comment.

“It’s a shame she likes you,” he sighs. “You must have your claws in real fuckin’ deep for that dream to have not worked. I’m sure you were there, watching it all happen.”

For a moment, Harry feels undeservedly grateful to Lucifer for not saying anything about the real reason Zennith’s magic didn’t work. But then he decides it wouldn’t matter either way.

Harry stalks towards the demon that might as well still be a little brat of a teenager—he has the mental capacity, that’s for sure. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’m sure you won’t enjoy it.”

Zennith backs up with a laugh, eyes momentarily clearing with surprise, “What?” He tries to pretend it’s a windup—a silly, harmless prank. “It’s not that serious, man. Hardly worth going to all the trouble of a fight.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe if you’ll apologise for those things you said to me all that time ago, I’ll feel less murderous,” Harry goads.

“You fucking prissy, you want me to say sorry? You were a sad excuse for a demon then and you’re an even sadder one now.”

Harry hums, well and truly unaffected by the words of a demon who had to cower behind someone else as they did his dirty work, and traumatise a human girl through her dream, “No apology then?”

“Boss, are you gonna let him get away with this?” Zennith throws his hands up in the air, exasperatedly looking at Lucifer.

The Devil simply smiles—making no move to help at all—encouraging the chaos and showing no signs of concern for his employee. Zennith deflates then, with realisation that this could not go his way. The three of them all know that Harry overpowers, every day of the week. He did when he was nineteen, and he will at ninety-eight.

“What the fuck.” Zennith sighs, watching as Harry steps closer and closer. He’s lost his nerve.

ㅤㅤ

Harry thinks that maybe a torturous death is deserved, but all he really wants is to get it over and done with and return to Y/N—who is no doubt having her ear talked off by Niall.

So he makes it quick. Pins Zennith still with his monochromatic eyes—wonders what he’d been doing all this time to be so weak as his arms fall heavily by his sides—and feels as his skull splinters and shatters into pieces and pierces his brain. Watches as his body crumbles and turns to ash before it hits the ground; the pained sounds of the demon echoing throughout Lucifer’s lair before the deafening silence takes over.

Harry’s frowning, eyes closed to purge the image from his head and to try and remove himself from this mindset before he gets really dangerous.

“How debonair!” Lucifer claps. “I usually make so much mess but that… that was beautifully done.”

Harry doesn’t have the control to appease the Devil and his unreturned flirting right now. He hums.

“Shame though, I suppose. He was a good servant… someone will have to take his place.” Harry’s stomach drops and his eyes snap open. Shit. Lucifer is already smiling at him. No, no, no. “Come here.”

His footsteps are light as he makes his way over to Lucifer’s throne. Harry’s not sure he can feel his body at all. He stops in front of him, hands making their way behind his back once more.

“No. Right… here,” Lucifer points to his side. This is where I’ll be standing for the rest of my life, Harry thinks. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred years—

Lucifer presents his cheek, expectantly. Harry blanches. “Be a good demon and prove your loyalty,” he teases. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, scared that at any moment he’ll be trapped, or killed, or that Y/N will become unsafe and Harry won’t be able to stop it. Hesitantly, he leans down, lips jutting out reluctantly as he forces himself to press a small and obviously uncomfortable kiss to the cheek of the ruler of Hell.

The demon looks accomplished when Harry steps back and clears his throat without saying a word, clearly basking in the glory of belittling and humiliating.

“Okay, off you go now.” Harry nearly chokes on his own saliva, the breath from his lungs forced out.

“I can leave?”

“Yes, yes, go on. I do hope I’ll see you again soon, Harry.”

Y/N likes Niall very much.

Understandably, at first she was unsure; their first meeting not ideal to say the least.. A stranger appears in your home whilst you’re not there and it unnerves you some, to say the least. But he’s kind—really kind. And he gets her hesitation; doesn’t try to force an overbearing friendship which ultimately has Y/N opening much quicker than she usually would.

Niall basks in the joy of getting to tell tales about Harry—things he’s never really been able to tell anyone before. And Y/N can see how much he loves having the upperhand between the two for once—revels in narrating sneaky embarrassing stories whilst Harry isn’t there to tell him off. Y/N finds herself giggling and gasping, leaning towards Niall and holding onto his every word. 

It feels good to know more about Harry. And his closest friend.

Niall doesn’t pry either, which is an instant relief to Y/N. He doesn’t prod, or poke, or demand answers—he just fills the silence with lighthearted conversation which is all Y/N could ask for right now.

There is a moment where quiet overtakes them and Y/N’s mind drifts, just a little.

“Hey,” Niall says gently, “don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiles softly. “Harry’s the toughest sod I know.”

Y/N smiles back, not quite reaching her eyes but she appreciates his words.

“You know, one time…” Niall starts off again, detailing a story involving Harry, three vampires, and a lot of bite wounds. (In hindsight, maybe that isn’t the best story to tell but Niall is only trying to demonstrate Harry’s toughness!)

“You gossiping about me?” A familiar drawl sounds from behind them. Y/N gasps and twists around on the sofa to see a very normal looking Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She hesitates, aware of Niall’s presence, until Harry opens his arms out.

“Come ‘ere, Bambi,” he smiles with tired eyes.

Y/N scrambles over to him, content in his arms as they wrap around her and she buries her face into his chest, inhaling not-so-subtly. She misses the look Harry and Niall give one another, a clear understanding between the two. 

“You look… fine?” Y/N says when she pulls back.

Harry laughs easily, “Fine? You wanted me to come home bloody and bruised, did you?” His hands span across her waist.

“No!” She exclaims, “I was worried, is all. That you would be hurt.”

He smiles, brushing his thumbs against her. “Are you alright?”

Niall chirps up at the question, “Excuse me, we had a lovely time, didn’t we, Y/N?” She nods. “Are you alright?” he mocks, “she’s bloody great.”

“Okay, Niall, I’m sorry for asking, I’ll never doubt you again.” Harry sighs but it’s playful.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/N asks, big eyes looking up at him. His heart softens and he’d kiss her if his friend wasn’t watching.

“I’m just fine, like you said.”

They must hold eye contact for longer than they realise, as Niall clears his throat.

“Are you two alright if I…”

“Yeah, o’course,” Harry says, briefly tearing his eyes away from Y/N. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. Niall nods, smiling back, and then he’s gone.

“So… Niall was telling me some interesting things about you.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N watches as Harry gets on his knees, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms with no intention of being erotic as he starts to swill out the bathtub. 

But Y/N is a little overwhelmed. He’s here, and they’re together…she thinks. She’s not sure but she doesn’t want to ask—wonders if it’s a silly thing to ponder. For its blatancy or how preposterous it may be.

So she focuses on the one thing she does know—Harry’s ridiculous allure. She watches his back contract under his shirt, stretching the material when he leans over to turn the tap off and his biceps strain when he swishes the water around to clean the tub.

If Harry hears the steady increase of her heart rate then he doesn’t say anything. Only puts the plug in, turns on the hot tap, and generously pours her nicest bubble bath in. And when he stands up from the floor and turns to face her, his mouth is upturned at her swoony expression.

“Pupils a bit big, sweetheart,” he teases, fingers trailing up her arm.

Y/N scoffs, “No, they’re not,” but she has no other point to her argument and no willpower to try to find one. So instead she closes her eyes.

“Hey, don’t hide them from me.” Harry’s fingers digs into her waist and she squeals, eyes snapping back open. “Mine are bigger than yours anyway,” he smiles before he lets the whites and irises of his eyes disappear for just a second.

Y/N still finds herself to be fascinated by his ability to do that, among many other things. But she’s not scared—never scared. “Show off,” she whispers.

“Only because I’m trying to impress you,” Harry leans closer, a wry grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Y/N pushes against his chest, “You’re corny,” but she’s smiling too, and her palms don’t budge him one bit as he covers them with his own and pulls her in further. She’s elated to be here with him but she feels herself not quite knowing how to act.

Harry notices (of course he notices). “You’re on edge, huh?” He looks guilty as he strokes her arms. “Gonna let me take care of you now?” He nods towards the tub. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed as she agrees with a hum. “You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise, Bambi.”

“Will—” she hesitates, talking once Harry turns his back to make sure the water temperature is okay. He looks over his shoulder. “Will you get in with me?” She supposes there’s no reason to be bashful but a bath is intimate—would Harry want that?

He just smiles and bites back a mocking comment. “I was planning on it,” and Y/N really doesn’t know what’s come over her to feel so shy all of a sudden, because she’d wanted him to get in with her but now she feels silly for even asking! You’ve already seen each other naked! She thinks, desperate to pull herself together.

“You’re overthinking, hm? Working yourself up,” Harry gently prompts, suddenly looming over her, focusing all of her senses.

“Sorry,” Y/N frowns, looking at the floor. Harry doesn’t chastise her, just cups her face softly and angles her head up before pressing his lips to hers. It’s not tactical; not intended to go anywhere, which he makes obvious by keeping his mouth closed. He kisses slowly, leaves her with a soft noise as they part, and then does it again. And again. Until Y/N is sighing—much more relaxed.

Harry pushes his hand under her shirt to rest on her tummy that he’s found himself growing somewhat obsessed with. He leans away from her to pull the fabric up her body and Y/N lifts her arms to make it easier. As soon as it lands in the corner of the room, Harry is back to doting, warm hands sliding up and down Y/N’s arms, along her shoulders to cup her face, down her back, along her waist.

Y/N would say she feels sufficiently warmed up already but Harry continues, kissing her innocently again as his hands move to push down her trousers, fiddling with the button. Y/N feels around for his own shirt, timidly pulling it up to reveal his broad back. Harry peels it over his head and in turn she steps out of her trousers.

“You’re so soft,” Harry whispers against her mouth, lips pouting to press another mindless kiss. His hands are eager to touch every inch of her skin. And soon enough they’re both clad in only underwear, Y/N huddling closer to Harry’s chest when he unclips her bra. “Ready to get in?” He asks, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N can feel every part of Harry against her back as she relaxes into his hold and it’s perhaps the most intimate moment of her life. She’s had sex less close than this. The thick of his thighs encasing her own, the span of his hands wandering her body—lathering her in soap—the feel of his hard chest and the softer parts of his tummy and hips, and the sure hardening of him against her.

Her head was surely muddled before they’d undressed, but now Y/N is confident she is a touch away from just floating off like a feather in the wind. Harry coats her skin in bubbles, encouraging in the way he coaxes her head onto his shoulder. When he dunks the sponge in the water and brings it back up to wash the foam away, Y/N’s breath hitches as the droplets hit her nipples and she feels Harry’s cheek squish up into a small smile.

“Breathe,” he speaks, turning his face into her temple. Y/N exhales shakily, nuzzling into him and Harry lays a delicate press of his lips between her brows before continuing his ministrations. “Are you feeling relaxed?” He asks, already aware of the answer. When Y/N nods hastily, Harry hums, “Not relaxed enough…” the words brushing against her skin, “I think I can do better.”

Gently, he lets the sponge float on the surface, replacing it with his hands as he runs his nails down her arms. Y/N’s chest is rising and falling at an obvious speed and her eyes are struggling to stay open; the anticipation affecting her considerably. “Would you feel better if I touched you…” his hands hover over her breasts, “...here?” He squeezes them far too softly but Y/N still lets out a noise—one that intensifies when Harry tugs and rolls her nipples between his fingers. “Is that nice, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhales, unable to concentrate on anything other than the thrumming of her body.

“Are you g’na watch how good I make you feel?” He prompts, nudging her with his nose. Y/N feels like her eyes are glued shut but she makes the effort to peel them open, tilting her chin down to see Harry’s big hands cupping her. She feels a wave roll inside of her. “There’s a good girl,” he praises, and the wave gets bigger. She never tries harder than when he says those words. “You tell me, baby, what do you want me to do?”

Y/N’s never been asked that before. “Whatever you want,” she says to him; not for the first time.

“No,” Harry asserts, “what do you do when you’re alone, hm? How many fingers do you squeeze inside yourself?”

And Y/N would be scorching with embarrassment usually but the arousal she feels overpowers it. Though it’s still hard to speak, “I don’t— m’fingers aren’t long enough—o-or I’m just not good. Doesn’t do anything.”

She may as well have shot Niall right in front of Harry, the way he gasps. It’s mocking, of course, but he sounds genuinely dissatisfied with her answer. “That’s so sad, Bambi. Pretty pussy like yours should be getting stuffed full and satisfied.” His hands are still playing with her tits, running back and forth over the pebbled peaks, and squeezing the flesh which aids the pant she lets out from his erotic words. “You want me to teach you?” Y/N shakes her head no, too desperate for Harry’s touch. “No? You want my fingers?” She’s quick to agree as he trails a hand down her body, over her ribs, and her tummy, and her mound—daring to dip lower.

“Please?”

“Mm, mine are much longer and thicker than yours, aren’t they?” His other hand pinches her nipple and Y/N arches her back as her hips struggle to coax Harry lower. “Nothing in comparison to my cock though, Bambi. How are you g’na take me if you don’t even fuck yourself with your fingers, hm?”

“I will, I will!” She rushes out. “I can take you. Please touch me, Harry.” Y/N turns her face into his jaw and sponges open-mouthed kisses wherever she can reach.

“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” Harry presses down on her clit and Y/N moans into his skin, nodding unabashedly. He travels lower to gather the wetness between her thighs. And Harry knows they’re submerged in water but the thick substance that coats his fingers is unmistakable—he wishes he could lap it up.

Harry’s cock is stiff against Y/N’s back and each time she arches and rests back against it, he sighs into her ear; pretty and provoked. She is thrumming—vibrating with want—never had anyone edge her so close to orgasming by hardly touching her. Her hands lay useless on Harry’s knees, subconsciously gripping him when he starts circling her clit with intent.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he orders, overly aware of her every move. It’s hard, not to just lay back and feel but Y/N keeps her eyes as open as possible, watching the flex of Harry’s wrist and the movement of his fingers over her. Her abdomen starts to flutter as he builds her up but Harry takes his hand away before she can start to give into it.

Y/N wants to whine and whinge but then his hand returns lower, fingers circling her entrance before he dips a single one inside. And his really are much longer and thicker than hers because it already feels better than when she tries and he’s only got one finger in.

Slowly, does Harry enter her, allowing for the adjust before deliciously curling and hitting the spongy place inside that has Y/N gasping and tightening her grip on Harry’s knees. She instinctively clenches around him; Harry has to bite back a tease about how desperate her body is and draws his finger back and forth inside of her warmth. Her eyes close for less than a second but in that time he pulls out of her and she snaps them back open, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it’s not necessary, as Harry sinks in a second finger beside the first and stretches her out some. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, but one of immense fullness and warm buzzing throughout her tummy as he perfectly stimulates her with every curl and drive.

“Y’squeezing me so tight,” Harry says, voice gravelly—turned on—as the hand holding Y/N’s breast moves down to her stomach to readjust and pull her tighter against him. She gazes at the vastness of his hand on her body and then to the one moving inside of her and another wave passes and pulsates between her legs and around Harry’s fingers as he speeds up, thumb stretching to pass over her clit in focused circles. “You’re g’na feel so good around my cock, Bambi,” he twitches against her back. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Y/N mewls, body pushing into Harry’s hands. “You’ll let me, won’t you?” His breath is warm against her neck.

“Yes, anything,” she sighs, hand finding his and desperately gripping. He interlocks their fingers against her tummy as he starts to press contrastingly precious kisses to her jaw and neck. Y/N’s so close her body is tensing up in anticipation. “Please, please, please.”

“I’ve got you, come on, baby. Come f’me,” he litters kisses between breaths and Y/N is so close, so close. Throws her head back and lets her eyes shut—and Harry allows it, occupied by the stretch of her neck as he licks and sucks and rubs and fucks her until his fingers are being squeezed impossibly tight and she’s coming around him. She lets out the prettiest of noises, writhing in his grip as he guides her through her orgasm and his dick starts to become demanding the more she moves and moans, her body against him feeling like the softest of velvets or silks. 

But he ignores it; ignores everything but Y/N.

She blindly searches for his kiss, body melting in bliss as she comes down from the intense heights of pleasure. Mewling and sighing into him with each press of their open mouths. His fingers stay inside of her, reveling in the subtle but sure pulses she gives, unable to resist the urge of curling them a little to make her jump in his arms.

“You’ll become greedy for that,” he mutters against her lips before nibbling her bottom one and pulling back to look into her satisfied eyes—big and moony, just for him.

She hums, unashamed in her post-orgasmic haze. “Is it your turn now?”

ㅤㅤ

Harry wanted to devour her whole as soon as those words left her mouth—wanted to push her back and have his way with her. But the bath water was cooling, and their skin was getting all pruned, and realistically Harry knew that fucking her for the first time would not be happening in the tub. She deserved better than to be pounced upon in a claustrophobic box.

And Harry was already good at ignoring his needs so what difference would five minutes make?

He kisses her with a smile on his face, slowly pushing upwards to get out of the tub. Her gaze follows him hungrily, lips threatening to pout if he doesn’t start paying attention to her again immediately. But he gathers a towel and helps her out, wrapping her up—delicately and thoroughly drying her body. It’s hard for Harry not to swaddle her completely and smother her face in kisses but he resists.

Teasingly, he wanders her backwards towards her bedroom, towel still pressed to her body; watching how hard Y/N is trying not to make a fuss. He thinks she’s doing a pretty good job until he realises her true intentions, seemingly forgetting the speed of Harry’s reflexes. When the edge of Y/N’s bed touches her calf, she attempts to spin around—the motivation of pushing him down irresistible in her head. She barely turns a fraction, however, before Harry’s hand is clamping around her bicep and squashing their fronts together.

“No,” Y/N whines, “I was trying to be sexy.”

“You’re very sexy,” Harry smiles, nose dropping to rub against hers.

“But—” 

Harry knows what she wants. He also knows how prettily she begs for him, and how easily too. Thinks he wants to push that button a little.

“What does my needy baby want?”

Though it seems he’s underestimated her on this occasion, as she tries very hard to display bratty behaviour and stand her ground. Y/N crosses her arms across her chest, ripping the towel from Harry’s grasp to cover up by herself.

“You don’t wanna tell me?” He tries, wondering how quickly he’ll be able to dismantle her walls. When Y/N shakes her head, he ups his game. “S’not very nice, is it? Made you come on my fingers but you won’t be good f’me?” Her heart drops a little, guilt seeping in. But she won’t beg. She won’t.

“I—”

“I was gonna be so nice to you, little thing. Make you come around my cock until you couldn’t think straight… but if you can’t even tell me what you want then I guess you won’t get anything, huh.”

She’s gripping the towel so tightly, knuckles bulging. “I am… good,” she tries, eyes falling down to his nakedness. It looks near painful. All she wants is to taste him.

Harry hums, “You usually are. Where’s she gone? My good girl.” He covers her hands, removing them from the towel so he can tug her closer. “Just tell me what you want, baby. Always so pretty when you beg.” Harry dips down, pushing the towel to the floor as his lips meet her neck and his hands slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She’s done for; never stood a chance. Not really. She squeaks as he grazes his teeth along her skin. “I want you… in my mouth… please.” The words come out breathy, shallow. But they’re hardly desperate.

“You can do better than that,” Harry says, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Prove that you want it.”

And her shyness has returned some—so it’s harder for her—but she shuffles closer, palms gliding up his biceps. “I wanna… make you feel good. The way you do for me,” she whispers. And it’s so soft, Harry can’t help but be taken aback. It wasn’t begging in the way he was used to but his heart swells. “You deserve it all the time. Please let me.”

“All the time?” Harry smiles. “You want my cock in your mouth all the time?”

“Yes,” Y/N breathes, looser now. “Please?”

And who was he to say no? When she thought he deserved it so much.

Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching behind him to grab one of her pillows to stuff under her knees as she kneels down. He strokes her hair, tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in his hands before it can fall around her face. Y/N rests her cheek on his knee, eyes glued to his shiny, red tip as it stands against his stomach.

“You trying to tease me, Bambi?” He tugs her hair a little.

“No…” she bites her lip to hide the smile, coyly looking up at him.

He doesn’t have to reply because Y/N’s leaning forward and licking a broad stripe along the entirety of him, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he watches her intently. She brings a hand up, angling him towards her mouth so she can kiss at his head, tongue darting out to taste the salty precome that’s spilling out of his slit. The grip in her hair tightens when she starts to suckle at him—she goes crazy for it, humming around his cock as she starts to move her hand up and down around him.

His noises have her thighs squeezing together; low and rumbling. Y/N knows they get higher in pitch the closer he is to coming and she is determined to get him there.

“Take me deeper,” Harry demands, hand wrapping around his base to encourage her. “Know you can.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums around him, letting her jaw drop for Harry to feed his cock into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but she tries all the same. Flutters her eyes shut and focuses on breathing through her nose as she drags her tongue along the underside of him and works whatever she can’t fit with her hand. When she starts to bob her head in coordinated movements and sucks her cheeks in, Harry’s abs tense and his head falls back on his shoulders.

“Hot little mouth,” he manages to say through a moan. “Made for me… made for my cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” When she hums again and the vibrations shoot through him, he bucks slightly, gagging her on him. Y/N retracts sharply but her insides still flip-flop about. “Fuck,” Harry groans, pulling her off him by her hair. Her hand doesn’t stop as she catches her breath. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.”

Her rounded out eyes look at him like he’d carved the Earth for her personally. She really would let him do anything.

“You wanna make me come?” He strokes her cheek as she nods. “Go on then. Make me come and then I’ll put my cock in you.” Harry relishes in the way Y/N’s eyebrows cinch together at the excitement and desperation, and her thighs squeeze impossibly tight as she takes him back into her mouth. She has a newfound determination, taking him as far down her throat as she can go before withdrawing to take a deep breath and then continuing. Her hand twists and squeezes, moving up to thumb at his drippy head when she leans back to breathe—and Harry’s chest is heaving more and more, eyes slipping in and out of their demonic state as she works him.

It’s when she leans back down as start tonguing at his frenulum that Harry moans and twitches, leaking out and into her mouth. “Yeah—yes, fuck. Keep going.” A whine gets caught in his throat as his head falls forward, chin touching his chest and his jaw loose. They make eye contact as she stretches her lips back around his tip, sucking and licking—so desperate to taste his come. And he’s close, moans after every breath and struggles keeping his hips down.

“G’na come,” Harry whines. “G’na come down your throat.” Y/N mewls around him, sinking further down and speeding up her hand until she starts to feel the warm spurts filling her mouth. Harry’s noises make her spine tingle as he praises her, “Good girl— swallow it all—so good. Fuck,” hands threading gently through her hair as he comes down.

ㅤㅤ

He barely softens, grateful for his demon stamina because he thinks he might drop dead if he doesn’t get inside Y/N in an instant. “Come ‘ere,” he says with a rumble, pulling her up by her underarms until she’s straddling Harry’s hips. His cock rubs against the both of them, spreading saliva and precome across their stomachs. Y/N surges forward, catching his mouth in desperation as she grinds down, angling herself to rub her wetness against his dick.

“In,” she whines against his lips, clit perfectly stimulated as she humps him. “Want it in now, please.”

Harry strokes his tongue against hers, licking into her like she’s made of honey whilst he takes a hold of himself, smearing her arousal as he paints his head through her folds. Y/N gasps, hips stuttering when she feels his thick mushroom tip prod against her entrance.

“Relax f’me, baby. Breathe nice and slow.” She listens, inhaling as deep as she can as she slowly lowers down. The stretch of him is nearly overwhelming but it’s delicious and her hands have to shoot out for grounding, one landing on Harry’s shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. He tilts his face into it, pressing a soft kiss to the spongy part of her palm. “That’s good,” he whispers as he gets deeper and deeper inside of her, “you’re so beautiful.” Y/N’s eyes squeeze shut with emotion, forehead dropping against Harry’s.

He’s fully inside her now and Y/N is sitting on him, adjusting to the feel and trying not to squirm. Harry starts teasing again once he feels her begin to grind her clit against his pelvis. “You gonna ride me?” Y/N nods, lifting up slightly before dropping back down. “You think your wobbly little legs will be able to cope with that, Bambi?” Harry grins, pushing forward to kiss her open mouth.

“I can do it,” Y/N whimpers, lifting up further. “I can.” She drops back down harder, moaning at the feeling of Harry hitting that spot inside of her. He maintains much more composure than she does, looking at her through his lashes as she starts to bounce up and down, and sliding his palms across her back.

“Am I filling you up good?” Y/N whines, nodding. “Told you we’d make it fit, didn’t I? Taking me so well, baby.” And he places a hand on her lower stomach, pressing in slightly with a smirk on his face. “Can you feel me here?”

“Uh-huh, so big,” Y/N moans, looking down to see his large hand span across her.

“G’na make you feel empty without me,” Harry promises, leaning down to take one of Y/N’s breasts into his mouth, sucking a mark into her skin. Her thighs are already starting to burn—each movement harder than the last as their bodies slap against one another.

“Harry,” Y/N mewls, hands threading through his hair. He hums into her chest, moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. His hands hold tightly onto her waist, assisting her movements up and down on his cock more and more until he finally leans back.

“You need my help now, don’t you? Told you you couldn’t do it, little thing.” Y/N frowns, grip tightening in Harry’s hair. “Just need me to take care of you.”

“Please,” she begs—for what exactly she’s not sure but Harry knows what she needs.

Confidently, Harry grips the underside of Y/N’s thighs, shuffling back on the bed so he can pull his knees up. She doesn’t get long enough to prepare before Harry starts fucking up into her with no warning. Y/N struggles, but she manages to throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face into the side of his as he pounds into her—the harsh clapping sounds of their bodies hitting each other echoing throughout the room.

She’s so wet, it’s surprising that there isn’t a puddle on Harry’s abdomen as he holds her up and drives his cock into her again, and again. Y/N is a mess of noise, mouth stuck open and whimpering into Harry’s skin as he fucks her until she can’t think of anything else.

“My little human just takes whatever I give her, huh?” His deep, punctuated voice mixed with mocking words sends her already muddled brain into even more of a tizzy.

“Only you—feels so good,” Y/N manages to cry. “I’m g’na—”

“—Look at me,” Harry weaves a hand through her hair and pulls her out of his neck. “Look at me when I make you come. All over my cock, yeah?”

“Yes—yes, all over,” Y/N keeps her half-lidded eyes on him; a monumental struggle when Harry moves his hand from her hair to her clit, rubbing messily over her. His pounding subsides none, getting harder if anything—going balls deep with every thrust—and all she wants is to collapse into him but she doesn’t look away, despite how kinked her brows become and how much her body screams at her to throw her head back.

It hits her staggeringly, eyes fighting to roll into the back of her head as she cries out and squeezes Harry’s cock, orgasm stifling her. He slows down his thrusts, hands rubbing soothingly into her back as she mindlessly whimpers his name.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he tenderly adjusts them, flipping her onto her back so she can melt into the mattress. “Have you got one more? Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, her cunt still pulsating around him.

“Slow,” Y/N whispers, eyes blurry, “please.”

Harry leans down, pressing sweet kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, hips pushing into her breathtakingly slowly. A lazy smile overtakes her features as Harry dotes on her, pouting up at him with a spacey expression. He complies easily, moulding his lips to hers. It’s gentle, the sound their mouths make as they part—Harry traces his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back up before licking her open and feeding her his tongue.

It’s hard for Y/N to muster up the strength enough to kiss him back, and her reactions are delayed, but Harry doesn’t mind; happy to be so close. 

And in a moment of vulnerability he quietly asks, “You really want me?”

Y/N knows he’s not talking about sex, bringing a leaden hand up to his face and stroking his cheek. “More than anything, Harry.”

His heart inflates ten times the size of his chest, he’s sure—he’s never known anything to feel so good, but Y/N was his person, and she wanted him.

Harry’s orgasm approaches rapidly at her words, and he’s desperate to get Y/N there again, hand trailing down her body to find her puffy clit. She jumps at the feeling.

“Shh, I know you’re sensitive, baby. Just need one more,” he kisses her again. “Be good f’me and then I’ll give you my come.” Y/N whines, trying to turn her head into the mattress. “Where would you like it? On your tits? Your ass?” He thrusts in harder. “I think I’d like it on your tummy, what d’you think?”

“Yes,” Y/N moans, unspecific in her agreement.

Harry laughs. “You don’t think anything, do you? Just lay there all pretty and let me do all the hard work.” His hips snap against her harder and harder—pace still slow but he’s hitting her spongy spot unquestionably as Y/N grips onto his biceps that bulge underneath her palms.

“Harry,” she cries, pussy starting to flutter around him.

He groans, “Fuck, squeeze my cock like that. You feel so good.”

He stretches down, taking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing over the pebbled peak. The sound of his balls thwacking against her ass reverberates, and Y/N’s moans compete for volume as she contracts tighter, and tighter around him. 

“Y’my person, en’t that right?” He circles her clit faster.

Y/N nods, neck stretching as she turns her head about against the sheets. Desperately, she grasps at his back, silently begging for his closeness. Harry drops down, hand trapped between them awkwardly but the weight of him delights her considerably as he hits deeper inside of her.

“Yours,” she exhales. “Please come, Harry.”

His hips stutter, nearly shooting right inside of her. “You first, baby.” Harry speeds up his hand and rolls her other nipple between his teeth. “Soak me.”

Y/N clamps down around him, tightness hurling Harry closer, as she comes for the third time that night. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, so exhausted but so blissful. Her nails dig into his skin and he relishes in the sharp pain, pulling his hand away to coax his wet fingers into her mouth. 

Watching Y/N’s satisfied expression as she cleans his fingers is enough to make Harry come, pulling out of her quickly and fisting his hand over his cock a couple of times before he’s painting her stomach white. He groans, head hanging low with his eyes fighting to stay locked with Y/N’s.

And then he’s flopping down on top of her, uncaring of the come he’s lying on. He’ll get up in a minute, find a washcloth and clean them both up, before gathering her up in his arms and praying to God (if he has to) that this isn’t a dream.

He thinks that after eighty years of killing and feeling like he’d found his purpose, that his life has new meaning now. That this is what he was meant to do. That Y/N is his purpose.

ㅤㅤ

“Harry?” Her soft voice pulls him from his head and he pushes back just enough to look down at her sleepy face. “I’m so happy,” she smiles, “and I’m so glad Imogen is a useless angel.”

He laughs, from deep within his chest, and leans down to smear their lips together—unable to kiss her for long without breaking into a smile—before pulling back and whispering against her forehead.

“Me too, Bambi, me too.”

#harry styles #demonrry #demon!harry #vanilla lime #writing #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles demon

[sunkissed-zegras]

another jump then fall au thought. adam going on a long roadie (ie west coast teams) after being home with his injury. poor paloma is literally inconsolable bc her dad was just home and all of a sudden he's just gone for like a week and shes still to young to understand. and poor cece doesn't know what to do because no matter how much she tries the first couple days she wont stop crying :(

oh my god, YES!!! and cece just doesn't know what to do and is freaking out bc paloma has never given her a hard time until then

─ warnings mentions of overall exhaustion, babies crying (who would have guessed), and adam being a sweetie AND SOME CECE/ADAM FLUFF????!???!

─ wc 805

Cece's head pounded as Paloma's cries rang throughout the apartment, her body sore and exhausted. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts at this point, Paloma was inconsolable. Adam had stayed home for the last couple of weeks because of his injury and Paloma had gotten so used to it but now that he's gone again, Paloma was devastated.

Cece tried every trick in the book to soothe her. She rocked Paloma gently, sang lullabies and even tried to distract her with her favorite stuffed animal, but nothing seemed to work. Paloma's face was streaked with tears, her tiny fists clenched in frustration.

She felt like she had failed Paloma and Adam, she thought that she could soothe Paloma even in the worst cases but she was quickly proven wrong. She tried everything and yet Paloma's cries only seemed to worsen. Cece's heart ached with a sense of helplessness as she watched the baby she had grown to love suffer in distress.

With a heavy sigh, Cece gently scooped Paloma into her arms, cradling her close. She whispered soothing words, trying to calm both herself and the inconsolable baby. As she paced the apartment, Cece's mind raced with worry and doubt. She questioned her abilities as a nanny, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on her shoulders.

As the night wore on, Paloma's cries slowly subsided, replaced by the rhythm of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. Cece watched over her with a sense of relief, despite the aching she felt in her head. Cece held Paloma on her chest as she fell asleep, not wanting to risk waking her up and starting the whole thing again.

──

"I'm sorry she's been giving you a hard time." Adam's voice rang through the speaker of her phone, echoing in the bathroom. The phone leaned on her water bottle as Cece put on her make-up as Adam talked to her through FaceTime.

Cece gave Adam a tired smile. "No worries, it's all part of the job. I just feel bad because she's probably just as tired as I am, if not more. It takes a lot of energy to cry for 5 hours straight." Cece jokes as Adam's laugh echoed throughout the bathroom.

Adam studied Cece through the phone, she looked exhausted but she still managed to emphasize and smile. That was exactly why he liked her so much.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Adam's voice was filled with genuine admiration as he praised her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cece. You've been such a blessing to us."

Cece's heart swelled with warmth at Adam's words. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her, knowing that she was appreciated made it all worth it.

"Thanks, Adam," she replied, her voice soft with gratitude. "I love being a part of your lives. Paloma means everything to me, and you do too."

He smiled back at through the FaceTime as she continued putting on her makeup. "Let me repay you, Cece."

"You already pay me, Adam, you don't need to-"

"I'm gonna Apple Pay you a couple dollars for a Redbull, okay? You need it." Adam's voice was teasing but she could tell he was trying to make the whole thing easier for her.

Cece couldn't help but chuckle at Adam's gesture. "You're too kind, Adam. But really, I'll survive. Just knowing that you appreciate what I do means more to me than anything."

Adam's smile softened, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. "I know you will, Cece. But I still want to do something to show my gratitude. And plus don't you have that Chem test tomorrow morning?"

Cece groaned at the mention of the test. "Fine, Adam you win."

With a playful grin, Adam nodded triumphantly. "That's my girl. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? You work so hard, I don't want you burning yourself out."

"Thank you, Adam. You're too sweet, you didn't have to." Cece felt a rush of warmth as she heard Adam's words, her heart doing a little flip.

"I know, I wanted to."

Adam's gaze held a tenderness that made Cece's heart flutter. "Well, I appreciate it more than you know," she replied softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Before Adam could reply, Paloma's soft cries were heard from the bedroom. Cece's smile faltered slightly as she heard Paloma's cries, her whole body aching. "Looks like duty calls," she said with a sigh, already moving to attend to Paloma.

Adam nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting his unwavering support. "I'll let you go then. Take care of our little princess, Cece."

Our little princess, that sounded nice coming from Adam. Cece's heart did another flip, her affection for both Adam and Paloma swelling in her chest. "I will," she replied, her voice filled with determination.

main masterlist

jump then fall masterlist

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #cece x adam 🩵 #adam fantilli fic #adam fantilli x you #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli smut #adam fantilli blurb #jump then fall au

[anystalker707]

Giving him silent treatment

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 400 Summary: You end up giving Sanji a silence treatment after the latest events. Tags: Sanji is very boyfriend / But also very dramatic / Just a little lack of communication

Requested by anon

A/N: i feel. nervous about this. ooc, maybe?

• Sanji will notice it right away that you're a little different with him, not glancing at him whenever he is around nor making a comment about how his good dish tastes

• You even decide to go with Usopp, Luffy, Robin, Franky and Zoro when you stop at this new island instead of with Chopper, Nami and Sanji like the usual (Brook had stayed back to watch the ship

• You’re there watching Luffy get chased by a local animal while Franky and Usopp uselessly try to help him out—now you understand the reason they never get anything done—when you comment something about just helping them out at once

• At first, Zoro just hums in agreement as he was there along with Robin and you watching the three fools, but then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at you. "What are you doing here? Where is the shitty cook?"

• Your face twisted in a way Zoro decided not to ask any further

• You’re back at the ship and Sanji will ask where you were, met with no answer once again

• Maybe you're distracted? Busy with something else? So he will let you be for a while and later come by, more of testing the waters, asking you about what you were talking about with Robin or if stupid Marimo bothered you too much

• He will feel completely lost with you not answering and absolutely reduced to a shrimp size once you glare at him in a quiet acknowledgement of his presence because he needs to know you're aware of him and just not answering on purpose, otherwise he'd just be convinced you're distracted again

• Absolutely devastated. Will enter in collapse mode and go over every single little thing that he did because he can't handle (y/n)—his beloved (y/n)—stopping loving him under any circumstances, even more for something he may have done without conscience. He won't be able to live a single day without you giving him attention, he might as well die if you're never going to talk with him again—his mind does escalate that quickly

• Will be found obsession cooking for the next couple of hours because cooking helps him think and Luffy doesn't see any problem with it

• Later, he comes to you with your favorite dish and that lost puppy face when you're sitting at a table on Sunny's deck

• ...It’s hard to resist to it, but it's for the best, so you just send him a look before returning your attention to the sea and wait until he walks away so you can eat the dish he leaves on the table

• Okay, Sanji will give you a while longer, still trying to make up with you until the end of the day, but the fact he doesn't get any good night kiss nor good morning hug starts to drive him crazy

• Baby boy will fucking cry. He cries the same way he did when you were captured by Crocodile and then again by Enel, with this angst heavy in his chest with the sensation he will never again have you cuddling him to sleep or kiss your cheek when you sit on his lap or even receive an adoring look from you because he's just that insecure with finally getting a partner after many failed attempts

"(Y/n)?" You looked to the side to see Nami standing there; you were sitting at the same place as the previous day, messing with a book you fixed on the last island. She furrowed her eyebrows a little, scratching the back of her head. "Is everything alright?"

"...I would say so, kind of, why?"

"Well, you and Sanji seem a little... off, y'know." Nami pulled the other chair back to have a seat. "You weren't buying spices with him yesterday, he seemed pretty lost. Also, he is crying."

"He's what?" Your eyes widened at how she'd dropped the bomb with such casualty and no more explanation.

Nami nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like, go talk with him! That's what I'm saying."

You cringed a little, sighing as you closed your book and leaned a little forward on the chair. Maybe giving him silent treatment wasn't the best way to deal with it in long-term; not only Nami had to approach the situation, but Sanji was fucking crying, also. Not that you weren't used to his dramatic behavior, but it was true it'd been a while since he last showed up and it usually wasn't a good sign if he was stuck in the galley like that.

"Take care." You slid your book to Nami with a sigh before you stood up and moved to go find Sanji.

The ingredients for whatever other dish Sanji was preparing received all the feelings he had supressed, being chopped quickly and with more force than needed while Sanji cried alone in the galley. You sighed at the sight, rolling your eyes half-heartedly before you closed the door behind yourself and approached him. Sanji looked over his shoulder and sniffled before he cried more.

"Hey, San, I—"

"I'm so sorry, my love, I don't know what I did, so maybe I'm not so worthy of your love anymore and..." He continued rambling without stopping chopping the vegetables.

You stood there for a moment, observing the mess he was in—you could ruin him just like that? Not like you wouldn't be desolated if you thought he happened to stop liking you, but knowing someone felt this way about you was quite different.

"Stop!" You grabbed him by the lapel of his blazer so he would finally stop what he was doing. "I never stopped loving you or anything, stop saying shit!"

Sanji blinked a couple of times and sniffled, looking at you. "Then what happened, mon amour? Every second without you feels like endless torture, I—"

"Sanji." You sighed, loosening your grip and playing a little with the fabric before you let your hands fall, fumbling with your thumbs at the lack of what to do under his confused gaze. "It's just that... You had..." Hell, it felt pathetic to say it out loud, to explain how your thoughts had twisted everything. "You promised me you would go with me to a clothing store as soon as we reached a new island, then you started making plans and didn't mention it. I thought you'd just not mention it to the others, but then asked Chopper and Nami to tag along as usual, and..." You paused to take a breath, swallowing dryly as your eyes followed along the buttons of his blazer. It would be shit if your voice started cracking and failing and got teary. "I got angry and frustrated, so I left because I didn't want to be rude to you because— because what if you didn't like me and everything I say doesn't matter? But then, what if you were just distracted and never noticed we had agreed on this little date thing? I didn't want to talk with you after that because what if I said the wrong thing? Did something I shouldn't just because I was angry and impulsive? I'm so sorry, I didn't want you to..." You sighed, shifting your weight, and motioned to him.

At first, Sanji didn’t know what to say, standing there with wide eyes. "No!" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you to hug you close. "I didn't mean to make you feel like this! Didn't I tell you, my love?"

"Tell me what?"

Sanji blinked slowly as he looked at you then frowned, letting his gaze fall to the ground at the same moment his cheeks gained a red color—he didn’t really hug you anymore, more of just holding onto your sides with his hands balled into fists around your shirt. "I—I could swear I had told you to, um, wait until we got to a nicer island than the last one... There were many things to take care of, I could swear I had told you..." His eyes filled with tears again, and you hummed understandingly, wrapping your hands around his shoulders to hug him close and press a kiss to his head. "I—I didn’t want to m—make you feel that way—"

"Oh, no," you sighed as you cleaned his face, mentally cursing yourself. "No, c'mon, no need to sacrifice yourself at this, pretty boy, it happens!"

"But—"

The way you glared at him had Sanji falling quiet with a pout, making you grin before you pecked his lips in return.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece x reader #one piece #sanji vinsmoke #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #imagine #oneshot #fan fic #fan fiction #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #usopp #nico robin #nami #brook #franky #tony tony chopper #queue

[yellow-dejavu]

When I saw Dark, I definitely expected characters like Hannah and Ulrich to be hated. I wasn't surprised when I saw comments disliking them on different websites, but I just didn't expect to see people celebrating that Hannah was murdered by her own child while her younger child was sleeping in the same room.

People can enjoy any moment they want while watching a show or movie, but I just don't get it. Hannah gets an amount of hate that no other character in the show gets, and it feels like a large part of the show's viewers ignore to even trying to understand her.

jonas literally says in the first episode:

“My father said good and evil are a question of perspective.”

I'm not saying her character didn't do bad things, but it's exhausting how that's the only thing people see about her and it's just like they're trying to erase the good she did or all the positive things she meant in certain characters' lives.

I was even more shocked to see how few comments put Hannah on the same level as Helene Albers. I just don't understand how anyone could think that Hannah is somehow comparable to an abusive parent.

Hannah with her kids:

When she saw her boy struggling to cope with his dad's dead, she supported her child and made sure he got the professional help he needed.

And when Jonas came back to town, she made sure he got his medications and therapy sessions with Peter.

Hannah was so worried when Jonas tells her he had a fight at the end of the first season.

In the same scene, he just wanted to comfort his mother by saying, "Don't worry, Mom. Everything will be fine, Mom." when he actually believed that he could save Mikkel and thus end his own existence.

As the months passed since her son's disappearance, Hannah was so devastated that she almost took her own life.

She didn't, because Stranger Jonas appeared.

Stranger Jonas has returned after years of living in the apocalypse, and he doesn't know what else to do when his plan fails. The only thing he can think of is to go to his mom and tell her the truth.

After the time young Jonas spent traveling with Claudia, the first thing he does when he finally returns home is look for his mom.

It was a long time before Hannah saw her son again.

But she went to see him immediately when a random old woman told her that she knew where her son was and that he needed her.

Hannah was heartbroken when she saw what had happened to her boy. In that moment she apologized, recognized her mistakes, and told him that she was there for him.

Young Adam looked scary, but Hannah loved him anyway, and baby Silja trusted him when he said, "I want to show you a secret. But we'll let your mom rest, okay?"

Hannah died when Silja was very young and she probably didn't remember much about her mom, but she still named her firstborn Hanno after her.

and that's just to mention some of the things I could remember about Hannah's relationship with her kids.

The last dialogue of the whole show:

"I always thought "Jonas" was a good name."

Hannah was a good mom and her kids absolutely loved her. It bothers me that some people want to take that away from her because they don’t like her.

It's really hard for me to understand how some viewers can watch a show like Dark and decide that they can see all the million gray areas that all these characters had, but with one particular character they reduce everything to black and white.

#dark netflix #hannah krüger #shes so overhated #idc i will always defend her #hannah kahnwald #i love her #fake katharina nielsen #hannah nielsen #the woman of many names #silja #jonas kahnwald #hannah wöller #dark 2017 #dark adam #stranger jonas #some people like to talk about how dark is about parental love and ignore Hannah's part in it #it makes no sense to me #dark #baran & jantje & maja did a great job with this character #i posted this

[ellafushiguro]

“Not bad…” Chapter 5

(Links to: Prologue, Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4)

The 57th Recon Mission was a success… at first. The female titan put up a good fight, killing all those who stood in her way. But in the end, the mission failed. She bested us. Mikasa and I almost fucking had her! We lost countless soldiers. Comrades. Most of whom you were just starting to get to know and appreciate. And they won’t even get to receive a proper burial. “That’s part of being a Scout” I guess. The devastation left the Regiment in disarray.

“Our taxes, hard at work ladies and gentlemen. Bravo.” One man said, sarcastically, in the crowd who greeted you all on your return. Laying in the cart injured, Eren grinds his teeth in anger hearing the words. “Eren, ignore it.” You and Mikasa try to reassure him. You look forward, trying to keep your chin held high. “Beat but still ready to go! You gotta be tough as nails to ride with these guys! They’re unstoppable!” You hear one kid say. Your heart sinks at the sound of his sweet voice, unable to look into the crowd. The ride back to the Capital felt like an eternity.

After leaving Mikasa and Eren in the infirmary, you go to find your temporary quarters to rest. After a few minutes of walking around the compound, bumping into familiar MP faces asking where to find Suite ‘15’, you finally found it. Reaching for the door handle, another hand meets yours. “Oh—“ You look up to see Levi. “Y/N. Glad to see you’re still alive.” He says. Thank God. I would’ve killed Erwin if she didn’t make it. “Right back atcha sir.” You smile. “Is this… your room?” He asks, looking around confused. “Umm yes I believe so. Room #15A.” You look down at your key tag. He holds out his key that reads ‘15B’. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would they place a male and a female in the same suite?” You ask. “Beats me. We just got here.” He answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Do you have a problem with it?” He continues, an eyebrow raised. “No sir.” You blush, looking back down at the handle, sticking your key into the hole and twisting it open. You both walk into a decent sized living room. Big enough for two. Maybe the front desk was overwhelmed with all the Scouts coming in, that they didn’t bother to check who is rooming with who? Or maybe since you’re his assistant, they didn’t think twice about it? “Captain what happened?!” You ask in surprise as you watch him walk with a limp. “Landed on it wrong. No big deal.” He says nonchalantly. “Did they at least give you a crutch? Or a cane?” You continue with concern in your voice, looking around for the item. “Yes. Matter of fact, I beat the medic with it before leaving.” He answers. Limping back to the front door to pick up the cane that was leaning against the wall, lifting it slightly to show the bottom, “that’s his blood.” He says proudly. “LEVI!” You exclaim, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I hate infirmaries.” He shivers, unlocking the room that says ‘15B’ and walking in, shutting the door behind him. You sigh, walking over to the other room across from his, unlocking it and shutting it behind you.

11:00pm. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep again. But who could blame you after everything that’s happened. Frustration and grief seem to have your mind racing. You skipped dinner, not ready to look anyone in the eye. Not ready to see how many dining chairs would be empty. The hot bath didn’t seem to help relax you. And you can’t exactly make some tea either. Too bad you don’t have your own assistant. Your stomach starts to grumble. Maybe there’s some snacks in the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table, you found Levi deep in thought, with a cup of whatever. You’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than his uniform. A small candle lit nearby, you could make out that he was wearing a black suit, the usual white cravat around his neck, and some shiny dress shoes. He should wear suits more often. You bite your lip, folding your arms and leaning against the wall, admiring his side profile. “Stop being a creep.” He finally says after a while. Fucking embarrassing. You shift around in place, not knowing what to do or say next. “Your stomach has been growling for the last 10 minutes. Get over here and eat something already, Jesus.” You bite your tongue, fearing saying anything will make the situation more embarrassing. Sitting in the chair in front of him, he slides a small plate of crackers over to you. “Here, they surprisingly go well with the wine.” He offers while pouring you a cup. “Thanks.” You say as you start to dig in.

You both sit in silence after you guys finish the crackers. You’re 4 cups of wine in. Your head starts to feel a little woozy whenever you move your eyes too fast. You don’t remember the last time you’ve had a drink. “You’ve only had 4 cups Y/N. Pull it together.” You hear Levi say. You tried to get up but ended up on the floor, bursting out in laughter. Levi rolls his eyes and helps you to your feet and walks you over to the couch. “You’re so sweet Captain” you slur. “Yeah yeah, sit.” He responds. “Krista knows what we did. She thinks we’re in loooove” you continue, wiggling your eyebrows, smirking. He loosens his cravat while clearing his throat. “Would that be such a bad thing?” He asks. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love. I’ve only ever had one fling and that was a looooong time ago, you see...” You trail off, leaning your head back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling that you swear is spinning. “Have you ever been in love Captain?” He pauses for a moment. “I’ve never had time for ‘feelings’. I’m a busy man.” You turn your head to look at him, urging him to continue. “But recently… I’ve… made an exception.” He looks at you with soft eyes. “She must be helluva woman eh?” You smile at him, closing your eyes. Drifting off to sleep.

He moves a strand of your hair out of your face. “She’s not bad at all.” He says, taking your hand and kissing your bruised knuckles.

#leviackerman #levi in love #aot levi ackerman #captain levi #levi #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi ackerman x you #aot levi #levi ackerman #levi fluff #levi ackerman fanfic #levi smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi blushing #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot

[cookeybg]

Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it follows its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, The Joker (more characters pop up later, will add them then.)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood, Angst, (let me know if I should add more tags)

Word Count: 584

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 7 - Gotham Transcends

She watched them swarm, at the behest of their white skinned jester whose hair was the same toxic color that painted her sewers. Born in a vat created by the corrupt, from the same poisonous liquid she tasted regularly. Whenever he appeared he stained her soil in the warmth of the living. Her Bat right behind him, protecting her, called him Joker. And the jester would laugh. A sound so chaotic, alluring, her attention captivated, ripped away from her Bat. Something in him resonated with the souls that walked her streets, that lived in her buildings, that wished for change. They would gather, hold him up and then recoil. He danced with her Bat unlike any other, fluid and unpredictable. His whispered thoughts, his actions, always directed towards her Bat. The jester needed him, loved him, loved her, wanted her changed. Her shadows played with the soundless song he wove. Enjoying their game. Nightwing, her oldest bird went too far, in protection of the youngest, in reaction to the second. Her Bat had been gripped by something indescribable. Fear was at the forefront, determination followed closely. Her eldest bird sat hopeless, her youngest shocked. With rhythmic movements her Bat pounded his chest trying to bring him back. Her Bat could not, would not, let the jester die. Like with the others, she gave her Bat what he wanted, a helping hand. She plucked a bit of shadow and when her Bat cracked the Jester’s chest, she slipped in. Disoriented and confused he shot up, clutching at his chest, his laughter echoing, filling her with new sensation. She had not known. She had been unaware. She? …I? I had not known? The excuse fell flat. Ignorance did not justify the consequences of that night. What would transpire would be devastating. How would I have known that it was not love, what the jester felt. No. It was love, but it was twisted. It was obsession but more consuming. It was jealousy, but it was sinister. He wanted my Bat. His full attention and our birds would, have, paid the price. Later, bound and imprisoned, he spoke to the shadows. He spoke to me in sweet hushed tones. Disappointed that his plan had failed, regretful. I could feel the thrill run through me, from him, when I would inadvertently respond. A flicker here, a subtle movement there. He saw me, followed me with his mismatched eyes and when he could, he would grasp the tether, trying to pull me in. The jester was dangerous and now he was aware, his connection to me, to my Bat. It was hard resisting, but I would not be swayed. He was not brought back because I wanted him, his life is held within the hands of my Bat. All he had to do was let me know and I would cut the string, let the jester collapse like a marionette. Though he did not know the power he held, though he did not speak to me directly, though I brought him nothing but torment. My Bat still had faith in me. Cared for me. I settled on him, dark tendrils wrapping around his neck, adoringly watching him work. I watched him fight, watched him run ragged for me. I curled in tighter, burying myself in his back. I smiled at the feeling, a laugh escaping, unheard. Gotham is me. I am Gotham and the Bat is mine, the jester an after thought. I had finally, fully, awakened.

This one was difficult to write. I like the Joker as a villain but now he has a bit of Gotham in him, like the robins, and that cannot bode well. Also, why does the last bit sound menacing? This is where the story led me T_T

I'm afraid to follow the path, but I must march on.

#gotham #gotham city #fanfic #fanfiction #gothamites #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #the joker #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake wayne #tim drake #jason todd #briefly mentioned #bruce wayne #the third robin #angst #angsty #everyone eventually dies #gotham is cursed #is gotham possessing batman

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 5

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 1,473; Chapter 5, Astarion POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. This was meant to be done over a longer period of time but now I'm probably going to end up dropping all of the chapters within 24 hours. Mostly because I at least wanted the chapter with the line that inspired the fic's title. Enjoy! :)

A memory came washing over Astarion, pulling him away from the Elfsong.

It was a particularly cold night in the shadow-cursed lands. They had rescued both Thaniel and Oliver, Halsin had just agreed to join their fight against the Absolute and join their camp indefinitely. Despite their victories, the shadows were still weighing heavy on their camp. They sat huddled around the campfire, silently eating some rations they obtained from Last Light.

Everyone was giving each other awkward looks, trying to decide whether to make conversation or not. Suddenly Wyll started whistling a tune familiar to all Baldurians, causing Karlach and Tav to smile fondly. His solo rendition of Bard Dance soon turned into a small chorus, which then turned into a little dance number.

Wyll stood up and started the familiar shuffle the tavern goers of Baldur’s Gate would use to dance to the lively tune. He was very quickly joined by Karlach. Her moves were less graceful than Wyll’s, but it was obvious that the dance was familiar to her. The clumsy moves earned some laughs from the group. As they continued though, both of their steps became more and more confident as they remembered the cadence.

Before he knew it, Tav was standing up to join the dance as well. Her steps shy at first, but gaining more confidence as Karlach and Wyll took her hands and spun her around them. Karlach shuffled over to Gale and pulled him to his feet, he laughed at the idea of dancing.

“I am really quite certain that I am not familiar with this dance.” He tried and failed to pull his arm from Karlach’s grasp.

“No worries, they’re easy enough even a wizard can learn them in one night!” Karlach laughed as she practically threw Gale into Tav.

Astarion watched them fondly, finding it hard to believe that he was sickeningly attracted to one of them. He laughed along with them as they tried to teach Gale the intricate steps, but a sudden feeling of sadness pulled him out of the moment. Had he not been turned by Cazador, he could have been out in taverns learning these moves, he may have even been able to meet Tav back in their home city. His time in the taverns didn’t exactly afford him the ability to learn the group dances in the establishments where he prowled. He was always so concerned with the efficiency of seducing a target that he was never able to enjoy any of it. While he was lost in thought, Tav had danced her way back over to his seat. She smiled at him and held out her hand.

“May I have this dance, handsome?” She was slightly out of breath and her cheeks were flushed. Her red hair was a little disheveled from all of the spinning. Her pointy elvish features perfectly highlighted by the firelight.

For a moment, he considered it. He briefly imagined himself dancing with his friends and his lover, laughing and learning a dance that was a staple of his home. His hand started to reach for hers, and then quickly snapped back to his side. He tried to cover the sudden movement with a laugh.

“Oh darling, I couldn’t.” He responded. “I’m having far too much fun watching you lunatics from here.”

“Come on! Surely you won’t let Gale steal the spotlight.” She fired back with a wink and a laugh.

“I…I can’t.” He looked away from her, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh…okay.” She responded, seeming dejected. But before returning to dance with their companions, she did give him a small peck on the cheek, causing him to blush slightly.

Most everyone in the camp went to bed with a smile on their face that night. Tav lingered by the fire, making sure there was plenty of wood to keep it going through the night. As Astarion moved to walk towards his tent, she called out to him.

“Astarion, wait!”

“Yes, darling?” He tried to put on his sweetest smile.

“I just wanted to say that…” she trailed off, “I’m really sorry if I put you on the spot earlier. I just got caught up in the moment and had hoped to share it with you.” She took his hand in hers and looked down to kick the dirt around at her feet.

“It’s not that.” He responded quietly. She looked back up at him expectedly. “I don’t know any of the common dances, or at least I don’t remember them. I may have known them before…” He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Then let me help you remember. It’s just the two of us now.” She looked around camp to make sure they were alone and then held out her hand. He tentatively accepted, and she pulled herself close.

Tav draped her free hand over his shoulder, slowly caressing his neck. He placed his free hand around her waist, resting on her lower back. She started to slowly sway back and forth, resting her head on his shoulder. They danced together in silence for a while, the fire still burning hot behind them, until Astarion finally decided to speak up.

“Seeing the three of you dancing and laughing…” He said quietly, “All of you have been away from Baldur’s Gate for years and yet…” He sighed before continuing, “It all came back to you, like it was engrained in your very being.” Tav listened silently, still swaying with him and laying against him. He paused for a moment, trying to decide what he should share.

“It made me realize what I had been missing for the past two hundred years.” He finally admitted. Tav nuzzled her face into his neck.

“Well then,” she said after a few moments, “we’ll just have to spend the next two hundred years making up for it.” She smiled up at him before quickly adding, “If that’s something you would want.”

There it was, the words he had barely dared to dream of hearing from her. He held her even tighter against his body.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend it, my sweet.” He said, kissing her deeply. And he meant it, after spending so much of his life in utter despair, he truly couldn’t think of a better way to live than with this incredible woman by his side. He pressed his forehead against hers.

“Would you stay with me tonight?” He whispered.

“Tonight…and every night.” She replied.

They stood dancing by the fire for a long time before retiring to his tent. She took her usual place, laying on his chest, one hand tangled in his hair before drifting off into her meditation. He must have watched her for hours, adoring her beautiful and peaceful face. Her sweet offer still ringing in his ears. ‘Tonight…and every night.’

He blinked and suddenly Astarion was back in the Elfsong Tavern, sitting with Alfira, unable to speak or even breathe.

“If you don’t at least try to talk to her Astarion, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.” Alfira said softly.

“I…” He didn’t know how to respond. She was right, of course. But all of his doubts came rushing back into his mind. He was terrified of how she felt about him now. Among the dread and negative thoughts though, a new feeling shone through…Hope.

What if she forgives you? What if she’s waiting for you? What if she really does love you? He thought on the questions for a moment. Was he ready to change for her though? Was he ready to commit to a life with her? He knew that he couldn’t go back to her unless he was absolutely sure that he was willing to put in the work to deserve Tav.

“I have to go, Alfira.” He said quickly, practically jumping up from his chair and throwing the few gold pieces from his pocket onto the table. As he turned to leave, he quickly walked back to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Alfira smiled in response and started lazily strumming her lute again, her eyes wandering back over to Lakrissa. Astarion had absolutely no idea what he was going to say, but he knew he had to see Tav one more time. If she rejected him, he would leave without another word, knowing that it was still a kinder fate than he deserved. But he had to know for sure. As he stepped out of the Elfsong, his pace quickened with each step until he was running. The sun was nearly set, but the streets were even more familiar in the dark. He knew they were returning to Rivington tonight, and that’s where he would be able to find her.

‘No more running away.’ He thought to himself. ‘It’s time to start living again.’

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #halsin x tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #bg3 headcanons #bg3 brainrot #astarion ancunin #bg3 angst #bg3 fluff

[livinggeekchic]

I’ve been thinking a lot more about Harvey on my most recent reread of Purple Hyacinth. He is set up as this kind of bumbling but good-natured kid, whose death hits us hard—only for us to later find out that he was a spy for the Phantom Scythe all along. And we, like Lauren, feel betrayed.

But we are given clues that everything is not as it seems. To start, Bella tells Kieran that Harvey was eliminated because he wasn’t useful.

That got me thinking about this set of panels. March and Hermann are having a conversation about Lune. This is surely information that the leader would be interested in hearing about. Harvey is in the perfect position to listen in, walking by with a stack of papers. But instead, he hightails it out of there. If you zoom in, you can see the “spinning” of his feet, he’s booking it so fast out of there.

So while he was a spy, he either wasn’t a very good one, or he didn’t really want to be one. We also see Harvey mentioning that he has to do his best for his grandpa--is it possible that his grandfather needs money, and that's why he's doing it? This is just one possibility of many. Kieran says as much to Lauren, after she tells him that Harvey was a mole. Kieran knows there are many reasons someone might join the Phantom Scythe, but Lauren is still thinking in black and white--right and wrong. While it makes sense that Lauren feels betrayed, she's failing to grasp the nuance of the situation.

Nothing showcases this better than Harvey’s funeral. We see Harvey’s grandfather violently sobbing, obviously devastated. He says “you didn’t need to try so hard.” (Another indicator that Harvey was likely making choices for his grandfather’s benefit.)

And how does Lauren react? Her expression here doesn’t look like one of sympathy, or even pity. She looks shocked and almost affronted. She’s so consumed by her hatred of the Phantom Scythe, for what happened at Allendale, that she can’t even see Harvey as a person. She can stand by and watch his close family member grieve, and all she thinks is, “they don’t know what I know.” But regardless of what misdeeds Harvey committed, he was still loved. He still deserves to be mourned.

She calls him a traitor. She’s almost disgusted by the fact that everyone is mourning him. But was he really a traitor? How much information did he actually give the Scythe? He was "useless" after all. Even if he did help the Scythe stall the APD's investigations, we know he wasn't this inherently evil character. He was genuinely concerned for his coworkers' safety. Lauren tells us that he never lied or showed any signs of being part of the PS. She sees this as evidence that she was blind to the truth, but I think she's actually blind to the fact that not everyone in the PS is "the enemy." Their motivations can be complicated.

In S1, Lauren views Kieran similarly. He’s an assassin, and therefore, he is reprehensible. She can’t understand why it's so important to him that he kills only when ordered or when it's the only solution. She doesn't really attempt to unearth his reasoning for wanting to take down the leader, beyond asking about it just once. She is inflexible, and rigid in her thinking: good people don't work for the Phantom Scythe. But of course, we come to see that it's more complicated than that.

A lot happens in S2 that helps open her eyes to this, which I won’t go into now. But I will leave you with a quote from Kieran in episode 93: “all these years within this wretched organization have taught me…it’s not a monolith. Not everyone agrees nor is aware of what is truly going on.”

Perhaps Harvey truly didn’t know the half of it. Maybe he was given a chance to provide for his grandfather and took it. Maybe he was told that the Scythe was helping the poor, and he related to that struggle. Maybe he was told they would only use the info he gave them to protect themselves from the APD, and wouldn't ever go on the offense. Ultimately, we don’t know. But what I do know is that if Harvey was outed as a spy in S3, I think Lauren would try harder to understand.

#purple hyacinth #lauren sinclair #ph reread #webtoon #kieran white

[amethyst-halo]

decided i want to work on everything stays au so post time stop oh my god why is this so LONG

when the bros start fighting after failing the family harmony, grandma rosiepuff steps in and stops john from leaving. when they try to point blame, she puts her foot down and tells them to stop and apologize to each other. all of the older boys are too stubborn to, but baby branch feels guilty and takes the blame for everything going wrong. floyd, spruce, and clay all go to comfort him, and john realizes what he's doing is ruining the band for them. he apologizes to all of them, recognizing he'd pushed too hard and set too high a bar.

they decide to take a break from the band and focus on just being brothers instead. everything is okay for a while; they goof off and mess with each other, help their grandma with chores, etc. as brothers will do. branch is a happy little thing, though pretty anxious, and while his brothers still fight with each other, things are good. but rosiepuff gets taken the next trollstice, leaving the boys on their own.

the boys are devastated, of course, and things are pretty rough for a while. john and spruce share the brunt of rosiepuff's role as the parental figures, doing their best to comfort the youngest three and keep the pod running. branch is struggling the most with comprehending what happened, as he hadn't lost anyone before, and doesn't fully grasp for a while that rosiepuff isn't coming back. things are okay eventually, but it's a hard time for a while.

john is still keeping everyone on track of their chores and such, but mostly likes to let them goof around. he still writes music in his off time, and likes to help branch plan his bunker hideout. he prefers being outside most of the time, and likes to find weird bugs and plants to show his brothers and teach them about them.

spruce leans way back, no longer feeling pressured to keep up his heartthrob persona. he takes up the cooking and gets super good at it, and overall is very relaxed. he likes to climb high into the tree to bergen-watch at the top of the cage, and sometimes talks one of his younger brothers into going up with him.

clay indulges in his interest in learning and graduates super early; he's the first to graduate troll school (which im just basing on the us school system bc thats what i know aksjdhjk), with john having dropped out when rosiepuff was taken and spruce still in his last couple of years. while he still likes to goof off with his brothers, he takes on a more serious persona with other trolls and likes to keep up with his sad book club. he becomes pretty good friends with the older princess, viva.

floyd still wants to go solo, and ends up doing little gigs and such around the tree in his spare time. he doesn't want to leave his brothers, so he never gets huge, but he manages to set himself a name. he's fairly quiet and struggling a bit with the always-happy-ness of pop trolls, but he does his best to keep it to himself, at least around branch.

branch himself is a fairly happy kid. he's got a paranoid streak, though, and struggles a lot with being alone, so he's usually stuck to one of his brothers. he's fairly shy with other kids and doesn't seem keen on making friends, but he gets coaxed out of his shell sometimes. he loves to plan his hideout and share his ideas with his brothers, who are all getting a little concerned about how much he wants to hide.

a couple of years after the band's hiatus, branch and spruce are doing laundry up on one of the higher branches of the tree. branch is enjoying himself, singing a song john had taught him while spruce works. he doesn't notice the approach of a bergen until spruce shouts, and the next thing he knows, he's falling out of the tree as spruce is grabbed in his place.

branch is sure if he hadn't been singing, this wouldn't have happened. he had brought the bergen to them by singing, and now his brother was gone.

clay and floyd find him at the base of the tree, and they know something is wrong. branch blurts that it's all his fault and spruce is gone, and they try to tell him it isn't his fault. they take him back up to the pod to john, who won't believe that spruce is gone. john goes to look for him and clay has to follow, leaving floyd to comfort an increasingly distraught branch. john initially thinks its a bad prank by spruce and clay, but clay gets through to him that spruce was really taken.

when they get back to the pod, floyd is all but freaking out, and branch is silent and gray.

things are more subdued after that; john and clay get more serious with their younger two brothers, floyd loses a lot of his energy for things and mostly just tries to make sure branch is sleeping and fed, and branch... he's a shell of his former self. he refuses to speak, let alone sing, convinced he'd only get his other brothers taken. he pours all of his focus on planning his hideout bunker, refusing to try and play with other kids or go along with his brothers' activities.

it gets a little better over time, as the initial grief fades. branch is still gray and refusing to speak, but he is slowly talked into acting like a kid every once in a while. his brothers also get better over time, john and clay's fun sides and floyd's energy slowly returning. john pushes himself to be better faster, determined to be there for his brothers, but it does lead to clay and him getting into more arguments, and floyd sees right through his facade most of the time. but it gets better, and branch's old colors even begin to return, albeit slightly.

with spruce, he gets taken to the bergen castle, where he manages to escape the bergen's hold. he has a little cat and mouse chase, but he squeezes into a hole in the walls and gets away. in the chase, though, he lost his pathway out, and all of the bergens are looking for him, so he can't escape right away. he's forced to hunker down and wait, so he starts exploring to find a way out.

his main hiding space ends up down in the basement, close to bridget's room. he doesn't dare let her know about him, but he does listen in on her struggles with her work and emotions.

he makes a few attempts to escape over the next while, but each time ends up with him being chased back into the wall. he manages to figure out his escape path, at least, but all of his attempts are squashed one way or another. one of his attempts to escape nearly goes wrong as chef catches him and almost kills him with her knife, but he manages to move away so all she catches is his tail, causing him to lose most of it.

a couple of years after spruce is taken, the escape tunnels are finished. john does his best to keep all of them together, but when they get out on the other side, clay is missing. john tries to go back in to find him, but the tunnels start to collapse and he's pulled out of there without clay. they wait, and wait, until king peppy begins to leave, meaning there aren't any more trolls to save.

the brothers are devastated; john blames himself for losing track of clay and basically shuts off, and branch loses any color he'd gotten back. with john near unresponsive, floyd takes charge of keeping them with the group and such, distracting himself from his grief.

spruce hears about the trolls disappearing from his place in the wall, and while he's glad they seem to have escaped, it seriously deters him from trying to escape himself, as he's not sure he could find them. he loses hope, which means he loses his colors.

clay, meanwhile, managed to escape the tunnels with viva. he wants to go back to find his brothers, unsure of if they made it out, but viva stops him. he's forced to hope for the best, as he and viva find the other trolls who were separated, forming the group that becomes the putt-putt trolls.

everything is... hard, for the first few years. branch's anxiety and paranoia only gets worse, and john dory is zoned out most of the time, so floyd is forced to be the one in charge, making sure his brothers are taken care of and doing whatever he can to help with setting up the new village. floyd eventually gets sick of it and encourages john and branch to build branch's bunker, figuring it'll keep them busy. it works, and john slowly comes back to himself while helping branch dig and plan.

spruce is pretty lost back in the castle; he knows the place like the back of his hand now, but he kind of resents it because he just wants to be back with his brothers. he's spent a lot of time near bridget by proxy, and one night when she's despairing over her feelings and workload, he accidentally gives himself away. to his surprise, she isn't as eager to catch him as every other bergen, and is more curious about how he'd escaped for so long. the two end up talking more; spruce finds himself worrying about her like an older brother, and she makes a point of sneaking him more food and other things he needs where she can in return for his company.

at some point, spruce nearly gets caught again, getting cornered by one of the cooks- the chef is exiled by this point- who nearly kills him again. the side of his face and his ear get caught and injured pretty badly before he can get away, and he manages to get to bridget's room before collapsing. bridget is wildly alarmed and does her best to patch him up, but the injury scars and his hearing is damaged on the one side. still, he's incredibly touched by her care for him, and while he's not as bright as he used to be, his colors do come back.

back in the village, john and branch build most of the bunker together, floyd pitching in where he can while also working on his music and running errands and such. when branch is older and more independent, john decides to start making trips back to the tunnels in an attempt to find clay. floyd isn't thrilled, worried that john is still stuck in the past and not letting himself heal, but he can't really stop him. john doesn't have much luck anyways.

floyd himself is struggling a lot of the time under the pressure of taking care of branch and john while also maintaining a social status and dealing with his own grief, and his colors dull slowly over the next several years. it's gradual, to the point it's hard to notice, so john isn't super perceptive to it. eventually, though, floyd gets sick of john ditching them all the time to dig in the tunnels and they argue, and floyd finally blurts all of his struggles in the heat of the argument. he crumbles, the last of his color fading, and john feels awful. he does his best to apologize and comfort him, and promises he's going to take care of them properly and stop going back to the tunnels, stop being stuck in the past when the present needs him.

i don't have much planned between that and the start of the first movie tbh. branch stays gray and silent, john does his best to care for his brothers, floyd does gain dull colors again at some point and keeps up with his solo career and is probably the most social of the three of them. spruce is kinda just surviving in the castle walls. clay's doing hot girl putt putt shit. etc

movie 1 is fairly the same to start. the party lures the chef in and trolls are captured, but it includes floyd, who attended the party to be polite, and john, who tried to go save him. branch and poppy go after them and branch is even less inclined to put up with her shenanigans along the way. im not gonna lie i haven't managed to figure out much of any of the movies from there.

i know that spruce reunites with his bros while they're trying to rescue the snack pack and such, and is a major advocate for trolls and bergens not being as different as they think.

between movies 1 and 2, about a month before 2 starts, floyd sets off for a gig at mount rageous for his solo career stuff, which :) is fine :)

i don't have much else figured out yet for some reason it is eluding me way more than any other au has so. i'll figure it out aksdjhjkhdjfh

#trolls #trolls au #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls spruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls branch #sketch speaks #everything stays au #this has been staring at me from my drafts for a bit. dear god is it long and theres NOT EVEN ANY STUFF FROM THE MOVIES YET #AUGH #i started this post a couple of weeks ago and its been fuckin At My Door since then #i love all my aus equally. only draws like 3 of them

[blues824]

Imagen the female riddle in the remarried empress but ace and deuce Carter and trey join her.

🌹For the first time I will feel bad for ace because he is a going to be be collared so many times because of rattrash and sovieshit.

🌹Imagen sovieshit having the audacity of be jealous of her dorm mates joining her in the eastern empire to the point he wants to banish them for the stupidest things because he is jealous that she hangs out with them and not him.

🌹Her being frustrated that her dorm members get treated shitty even ace does not deserve it and her asking heinley to move them in the western kingdom for protection because they are the only thing that she has close to home.

🌹Heinley baking with trey and spending time with the other dorm members and how would her react to riddle mc asking for them to live in the western kingdom because she is worried about them.

🌹And how would navier react to her daughter like handmaiden deal with her dorm members her and her ladies in waiting seing her collar the aduese duo a couple of times because of mistakes seeing Carter and trey calming her and seeing that she cares for them.

🌹Imagine navier finding her crying in the rose garden with a hedgehog after she send her dorm members along with heinley and her feeling homesick now she finally got her dorm members back sovieshit and rattrash took them away.

(Inspired by this beautiful art)

🌹How would they react to her being ingaged or on love with kosiar and seeing how protective he is of her and how she is the handmaiden of navier them being annoyed with the concubine .

🌹How would rattrash react to her dorm members joining her and how jealous sovieshit gets because of them her trying to drag her name in the mud like she did to nian tuiana and failing because how serious she is.

(I love how they are reading black butler)

Part 1 here

Sovieshu 

He is most definitely jealous that you would hang around these incompetent fools rather than him (who we all consider an incompetent fool, but moving on). He’s still upset that you turned down his request to make you his second mistress, but your dorm members were on your side and backed you up by pulling up the Queen’s Rules.

It gets to the point where he has half a mind to banish them from the Eastern Empire and force you to become his mistress. However, he knew that both Navier and Rashta would prevent that from happening because the former actually cares about you and the latter would feel that her position is threatened.

This unfortunate Emperor does get a headache because of the ADeuce duo, but it was the first time he was able to see you actually collar someone. Then, the whole thing with Kosair being banished happened, and Sovieshu watched you cry and yell at him for sending away the love of your life. If that wasn’t the verbal equivalent of a slap across the face, I don’t know what is.

So… he lost you to his soon-to-be-former brother-in-law. Your dorm members seemed to support the both of you, and they even started making preparations to leave for the Western Kingdom. However, Navier’s handmaidens left last, and you were one of them.

That meant that he had enough time to try and trap you within the palace walls. Unfortunately for him, you had experience with sneaking out, and you had magic so it really wasn’t that hard. Plus, you had your Heartslabyul comrades, since they hadn’t left yet. So you left behind an Empire and a devastated Emperor.

Rashta 

Ever since she found out that Sovieshu was in love with you, she tried everything to drag your name through the mud. However, your friend Cater, in his short time there, became friends with most of the nobility. Thus, her plans never worked.

But, she could tell that your dorm members were giving the Emperor a headache constantly, so she kind of planted the seed of banishment within his mind. When you found out that he was about to make the executive order, you used your magic to restrain him and the young mistress herself.

Then, Sovieshu banished Kosair. She could tell that you were devastated, and she pretended to be sad for you, but in reality she knew that this was beneficial to her. However, she turned to look at her ‘husband’, and he was sad for you. This really infuriated her because he was supposed to be in love with her… not you.

She couldn’t spend too much time on that matter, as the Emperor and Empress were being divorced soon. You hadn’t moved over to the Western Kingdom yet because Navier still needed you, and she didn’t expect anything to happen. But, before you had the chance to leave with the other handmaidens, you were captured and locked away. Even this was a step too far on Sovieshu’s part.

Fortunately, even though Rashta didn’t do much to help, she did point your dorm members in the right direction. She just wanted you out of the Empire at this point. Once you had escaped, she focused on trying to bring comfort to her new husband so that he may forget about you. It didn’t work, but it’s the thought that counts.

Navier

Upon finding out that you collared both Ace and Deuce, she almost spit out her tea from laughing. She gets along great with Cater and Trey as well, since Cater can easily navigate the social scene and Trey makes her favorite meals when she’s feeling particularly stressed by her husband’s actions.

When she heard that Sovieshu was contemplating banishing your friends, she stepped in and put that thought to rest. To avoid you being worried, she kept it from you. But she did tell you that you might need to reel in your subordinates lest they get into trouble.

However, it seems that His Imperial Majesty is dead set on making both you and her sad and stressed, as he banished Kosair from the Eastern Empire. She went to her garden to take a breather when she saw you in the red rose section crying and holding a hedgehog. She knelt down beside you and pulled you into a comforting hug (lucky reader 😭).

Then, she went through the whole divorce process with Sovieshu, and she had a bad feeling about not sending you ahead of time. You assured her that you would be fine, but you weren’t because when you tried to leave with the other handmaidens, a few guards kept you from leaving. She didn’t hear about this until you told her once you made your great escape and fled to the Western Kingdom.

Speaking of, when you both reunited, she pulled you into a tight hug, then she moved on to greeting the rest of Heartslabyul. During the whole sending-off ceremony for the knights, she watched with a small smile as you placed a kiss on her brother’s cheek as a farewell. Truly, you both were made for each other, according to Navier.

Heinrey

He was a bit concerned when he saw that some of the Heartslabyul members had collars about their necks, but Navier told him what happened. Bro made a mental note to not get on your bad side. Still, the whole situation was quite hilarious to him.

Through one of the Empress’s letters to him, he learned that the Emperor was thinking about kicking your friends out of the Empire to back you up into the corner of mistresshood so you wouldn’t be able to escape. As a result, he made preparations in the Western Kingdom to ensure that he would be ready to receive them.

However, he didn’t expect to receive Kosair instead. Heinrey could tell that the man was stressed and worried about you, mainly because you were still in the Eastern Empire, which was ruled by a man who was deeply in love with you. The bird-man understood perfectly, because he constantly worried about Navier

But, you arrived in the Western Kingdom along with your Heartslabyul comrades as well as Navier’s other handmaidens. Upon seeing each other, you both gave each other a hug. You two were friends, as you helped him win the heart and hand of his Queen, so yeah.

Ever since then, business carried on as usual. You were still a handmaiden to Navier, you still collared Ace and Deuce, Cater got along well with the noble families due to his social skills, and he found a new companion in Trey. The two loved to bake, so that’s where it came from.

Kosair

Not going to lie, he was definitely jealous at the sight of you hanging around four men that he did not know. But he got to know them, and he and Trey got along the most. He absolutely despises Ace and Deuce because they are infuriating, and he’s kind of indifferent towards Cater. And we all know that he loves you.

He was the one you went to when you found out that Sovieshu was thinking about banishing your dorm because they were the last line of defense you had to not become his mistress. That’s when Kosair took a deep breath and pulled out a ring from his pocket. He wishes he could have proposed to you under better and more romantic circumstances, but now you had an indisputable reason to not become the Emperor’s second mistress.

Things kind of went downhill when Kosair got banished. You both wrote letters to each other, and you were glad to see that Heinrey allowed him to take up residence in the Western Kingdom. But what you didn’t know is that the man laid awake at night because he’s so scared about what could become of you in his absence.

Then, once you both were reunited, he just about dipped you down and kissed you passionately on the wharf. Your dorm members let out a few gasps, but Cater let out a cheer and Ace let out a loud whistle. Just wait… this happy moment isn’t going to last long once you tell Kosair that Sovieshu tried to keep you trapped in the Eastern Empire. But that’s for a later time.

Your wedding was absolutely beautiful. Trey walked you down the aisle, and Kosair teared up. You looked just like a dream. There were red roses occupying a lot of the space. Once the officiant said ‘you may kiss the bride’, this man wasted absolutely no time. Ever since you accepted his proposal, he has been waiting for this day.

#remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #the remarried empress #remarried empress x reader #sovieshu vict x reader #sovieshu vict #emperor sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #sovieshu #rashta x reader #rashta #navier trovi x reader #empress navier #navier x reader #navier trovi #navier #heinrey alles lazlo #heinrey alles lazlo x reader #heinrey x reader #heinrey #heinrey lazlo #heinrey lazlo x reader #kosair trovi x reader #kosair x reader #kosair trovi #kosair

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Hurdles in hand Holding

Summary: Written for the Hurt and Comfort Bingo.

A Modern AU. The thing about having powers is that sometimes even the simplest of things can come with hurdles.

Warnings: /

Ratings: General

Words: 640

Prompts: Accidents

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author's Notes: Modern AU? Canon Viking setting? I literally weighed a list of pros and cons and even with one extra con for the Modern AU, it still got on pro on top of the Canon Viking Setting. So, here's another Modern AU.

Got inspired by watching the first X-men movie yesterday. :')

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Hiccup realized long ago that his ability to generate lightning is so intimately interwoven with his emotions. It’s not unheard of, it’s actually rather natural. It’s how most figure out they have powers at all, while others need to focus and make them happen.

He, in particular, has a great many feelings and he feels them with all of him. Always has. So control is the key and it took him years just to get some semblance of it.

“OW- fucking… Thor!”

But sometimes that control slips and Astrid jumps away from him with a couple of swear words as if she has just been… Well, shocked.

Her body is tingling all over in a rather unpleasant way, her heart is racing and she stares at her hand to make sure it didn’t leave a mark. It still hurts.

“I am so sorry!” Hiccup steps away from her, immediately apologetic. They were just taking a walk in the local park at sunset when Astrid took his hand to hold and it clearly sparked something, he ended up literally shocking her. He felt the charge not even a split second before she cried out.

It’s rather devastating that something so everyday as the joy of holding hands can lead to pain, he doesn’t see Astrid accidentally setting him on fire, does he?

“Hiccup, it’s okay,” she sighs, though her fingers still tingle annoyingly, the sensation radiates all the way up to her wrist. She doesn’t blame him. As anyone with abilities can attest, anyone with dangerous abilities like theirs especially; it’s easy to use your powers, control is the hard part.

She has perfected it, as would be expected from a Hofferson. But she also understands that this aspect of having powers tends to slip Hiccup’s mind. He always has a lot going on up there, so many emotions and she knows how deeply he feels each one. It’s one of the many reasons why she loves him.

As a pyrokinetic, there is no way she can ever let her feelings get the better of her and she pushed every hint of anything other than complete neutrality down until she had almost lost the ability to feel altogether.

But Hiccup… he could try for years and still fail.

“No… No, it’s really not,” he shakes his head. Astrid watches Hiccup pull something from his back pocket and within moments both his hands are clad in dark leather gloves. Contrary to Snotlout’s opinion- who claims her boyfriend has them to be extra- it turns out leather is a poor conductor for electricity. It’s either that or full on rubber gloves and who wants to be wearing those in daily life?

Astrid can’t help the heartache. They are in the minority, there are so many people who wish they had powers like them, but none of them quite realize the troubles they can bring. The two of them can’t even go for a walk together without having some kind of a hurdle to face.

They stand in silence for a moment, a couple of passersby staring at the two of them as they walk past.

Astrid wouldn’t have even noticed them if not for the fact that she doesn’t appreciate that they’re staring at her boyfriend. She couldn’t care less about what people think of her, but when they appear to be staring at him when he’s clearly feeling bad about something and fidgeting with his gloves that are sensory unpleasant…

“Come on,” she takes a resolute step closer to Hiccup and doesn’t allow him the chance to back away before she stretches her hand out to him. They will walk, they will hold hands and they will enjoy each other’s company.

Hiccup dares an appreciative smile and accepts her hand. Because she’s right. They can still enjoy this walk and they should.

#httyd movies #httyd fics #rtte #race to the edge #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #hiccstrid #h/c #hurt/comfort #powers #alternate universe #au #modern au #powers au #abilities au #lightning powers #fire powers #my fanfics #hurdles in holding hands #lightning wielder #lightning wielder au

[c0stass]

Lost In Echoes pt. 3

Content: cussing, violence, kidnapping, mark in a trap, reader in a trap, reader unfairly tested, chemicals

Acid trap was inspired by the film Funhouse.

It's been three weeks since Mark revealed his biggest secret to you, his true self. Despite what that truth is, you love him for being honest with you and trusting you with something like that. You're not sure if you're okay with it. He is still trying to help you understand why he tests people. You sort of understand, but you're still a bit skeptical about all of it.

On one night in particular, you decide to run to the store for a snack. You can't sleep, so you've sat up binge watching your favourite show. Mark isn't home, and he isn't returning your calls, so you're a bit worried. You convince yourself not to freak out. You slowly get dressed, grab your car keys, and head out into the cold, foggy night. As you unlock your car, you don't notice the dark figure creeping up behind you. The last thing you remember is an arm around your neck, followed by a sharp pain right below your ear.

Everything goes black.

You awaken in a dark room, with a single light shining on you, strapped to a hard metal chair. Scared, you look around. You're groggy, not sure at first what's happening. As you come to, you realise what might be going on, and you hope it isn't true. Pulling at the restraints and screaming, your voice echoes off the concrete walls. You're fully dressed except for your shoes and socks, the hard floor cold on your feet.

You hear a door open and shut behind you, heavy and metallic.

"Hello, y/n," comes a gruff voice from behind you. You know that voice. Mark's played the tapes for you in the weeks since revealing he was working with John Kramer. Oh my god, Mark, you think, where is he?

"I want to play a game," the voice continues. Your blood runs cold. You hear a switch flick on, and a bright light floods the room from the high ceiling. You look across the room with wide eyes, and you see a naked Mark, hanging from his wrists above his head, waist deep in a chemical container that appears to be filled with water. A clear tube leads from the tank to a container next to it, labeled SbHF6.

"MARK!!!" You scream. He looks so scared, looking at you.

"Help me... please, y/n... oh god," he cries.

The man walks from behind you, revealing himself to be none other than John Kramer. He turns to Mark.

"Detective Hoffman," he says, "you of all people should know how crucial it is to keep certain information from the public. And yet, you tell her. I don't know this person. How do i know she can be trusted? Consider this a test of her loyalty to you. But dont worry. I'm not going to kill her. This is her test, but you are the subject."

"Fuck you, John! This is too far!" Mark spits, thrashing around in the water. John turns to you.

"You've seen my work. You know about acid and the devastating affects it can have on one's body."

You stare at him with pure hate in your eyes.

"Flouroantimonic acid is the most corrosive acid on this planet when it comes into contact with water. Unless you want your boyfriend to be dissolved into nothing, you'll follow my instructions. All you have to do... is climb the ladder," he points to a ladder clinging to the wall, 70 feet at least, you guesstimate, "and press the button at the top. And Mark will be free."

He begins to untie you from the chair.

"But be careful," he continues, "the razor wire and barbed wire will slice you to shreds."

"Fuck you! You can't do this to us!" You yell.

"If you fail to press the button before the timer is up, Mark will die. Slowly and painfully. You have ninety seconds. How much blood will you shed to save his life? Make your choice."

#saw #detective hoffman #mark hoffman #costas mandylor #mark hoffman x reader #fanfic #john kramer #jigsaw

[bloodyknucklesforme]

I am physically incabaple of writing smut without following up with angst. anyways here's Nina finding out her family is dead and Gaz being a good friend

Nina turned her phone on 'do not disturb' before clocking in. She wanted to avoid any further family arguments. Her mum was still upset she'd chosen to stay and work rather than join the annual family holiday on the coast. Another tradition that only started when her brother was born. She tried not to take it out on him but it was hard to watch him get everything she ever wanted from their parents.

She tossed her phone into her locker, giving up any temptation to look.

"Good afternoon, beautiful." Kyle grinned as he moved around her. "I just put a table in your section."

Nina enjoyed work. She liked when it was fast paced and time breezed by. SHe didn't like arguing with Simon over the rawness of steak.

"It is medium rare!"

"I'm not saying it's not. The dickhead at fifteen says its not! Can I just get a new one?"

"Just switch plates and give that back!"

"It won't be hot!"

"Fuck me!"

He remade it for her.

"Thank you."

"Fuck off."

"Dick!"

The corners of his eyes raised in a smirk as she took her plate and left.

It was slowing down before evening rush. She went to the back of house to steal some fries and sips of water. She could hear Kate and John yelling from down the hall.

Everyone turned to look at her as she walked in. It unnerved her. So many faces with looks of devastation. Kleo covered her mouth with her hand and looked away. Gus and Reyes were the first to turn back to their work. Kate looked like she'd been crying. She felt Simon standing behind her.

"Nina, Kate's office. Now." John said, untying his apron. He nodded at Simon and he was gone as quick as he appeared. John laid a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon love."

"You finally firing me?" She tried to joke. He wouldn't even look at her.

John shut the door and sat her down in the comfy chair. He knelt down before her and took her hands in his.

"I'm so sorry, love. I am so sorry."

"What?" She was scared, like she was at the edge of a cliff and the ground was crumbling. She was going to fall and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Kate got a call from the Dungeness police."

Nina bit down hard on her lower lip. That's where her family was staying.

"There was an accident."

She let out a cry.

Just him. Let it just be him. Let her mum and Sebby be okay. Let it just be him.

"There weren't any survivors, Nina." John held her hands tight. "They're all gone."

Downstairs Gaz looked over the seating chart. Nova and Chuy could each take another table.

"We're closing," Simon said. Kyle jumped.

"Bloody hell, you never fail to live up to your namesake do you?"

"Tell the people waiting to leave." Simon said. Chuy, Nova and Kate were already going around telling people they had to close, everyone's meal was comped.

"Why are we closing?" Kyle had never seen Price close early. Simon frowned, trying to answer.

"Nina's family-"

There was a scream from the back office. Kyle's heart sunk in his chest. It was a scream of pure pain and grief. It was Nina. He shoved his way past Simon, almost crashing into multiple patrons on his way to the office.

Nina sat with her head between her knees as Price rubbed her back. Kyle looked at Price and before he could ask was answered with a solemn nod.

He knelt down in front of Nina and pressed his head against hers.

"Gaz. They're lying," She said softly. Tears ran from her cheeks and onto her pants.

Kyle laid his hands on her knees. He didn't know what to say. They'd grown up together. He didn't get on with her family but he'd known her parents his entire life. He took her brother to football practice only a couple weeks before. He was only fifteen.

"Kyle... tell me they're lying." Her voice cracked as she reduced to begging. "Please. Tell me...tell me they're lying."

"I'm so sorry, Nim." He did his best to hug her, pulling her closer to him. She opened up, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. He did his best to keep his balance as she slid of the chair and into his lap. Her sobs were long and aching.

Any arguments customers had about leaving were subsided by her cries. Everyone was quiet as they started their cleaning tasks. Kyle rocked her in his arms. Price knelt down beside them, rubbing her back again.

"Let's get you home."

"No..nonono." She clung to Kyle. She still lived with her family.

"Want to go to my place?" Kyle asked, stroking her hair. "You can stay with me."

She nodded against him.

"Just hold on, I got you." Kyle scooped her up bridal style as he stood, Price offering his arm for balance. Nina could hardly focus on what was going on. Her whole chest ached. She wanted to throw up.

Kyle was the only thing she could focus on. She pressed her nose against the crook of his neck and breathed in his cologne, the same scent he'd been wearing for years. She glad he was carrying her, she felt like there wasn't even a floor. She'd just fall forever. If she let go she'd fall and she'd lose him too.

There was a knock on the door. Simon had gathered her things. He looked at her with a shared grief, like she was going through a door he'd already been through.

"Clear her notifications," He said to Price. How many calls did she miss? If she'd picked up would it all be different? She could saved them.

Price drove them to Kyle's flat. He laid her on his bed and started to undo her hair from its bun. He helped her change out of her work clothes and into one of his shirts and a pair of boxers.

Price made tea that would go cold.

"I'm going to go down there and bring them back, okay? Kyle will look after you." He kissed her forehead. "Kyle you call me about anything, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Kyle had been out of the service for a year now and he still called Price sir. Kyle tucked her into bed climbed in beside her. She alternated between ear shattering sobs and silent tears. He held her through it all. His mum stopped by with food at some point. Nina's mum had been her friend.

Kyle only focused on Nina, stroking her hair, rocking her, helping her shower and eat, staying awake while she slept to fend off any nightmares.

He was her life jacket on the raft of his bed. The world outside of it was too awful to even think about. It was made of nothing and meant nothing. Time stopped meaning anything.

Price was asking her questions about funerals and she couldn't even sit up to look at him.

"I wish it was me," she whispered.

"Don't say that, Nina." Kyle pressed his forehead against hers. They were under the covers, shielded from the daylight.

"It's my fault."

"No, it's not."

"I didn't go. if I had gone-"

"I would have lost my best friend." He wouldn't let her talk like that. He couldn't stop her from thinking but he could stop from vocalizing those thoughts, making them real. "I love you, Nina. I'm so happy you're here."

He held her as she started crying again. He held her during the funeral. He gritted his teeth as people lined up to pay respects to her father. An SAS captain, like Price. The union jack was draped over his coffin. He didn't deserve the respect. He was found at fault for the accident, going too fast around a corner.

Nina hated him. He stole her family from her in childhood, neglecting her over anger that she wasn't a son. He stole her family from her as an adult, killing her mother and brother with carelessness. Kyle and John were all she had left.

Tags: : @water-bearz @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @macravishedbymactavish

#restaurant au #childhood friends AU #Nina x Gaz #kyle gaz garrick x oc #Gaz x Nina: Childhood Friends AU