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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

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The dutiful

AU MASTERLIST

Summary: Your Mob Boss father´s last wish was for you to marry his right-hand and most trusted man, Lloyd Hansen, you fight against it, but at the end, you are the ever dutiful daughter. Now he is the boss, and has to assert his dominance over you, and over his men

Pairing: Mob!Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DARK, misogynistic behaviour, mob bussiness, age gap (Lloys is late thirties, reader is mid-twenties), death of a parent, dub-con, unprotected rough sex, (don’t be silly wrap your willy), voyeurism (some guys watch you being claimed), little fingering, degradation, mocking, cursing, pet names, breeding kink, marriage kink, slight cumplay and eating, might miss some warnings.

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.1 k

Notes: Oh my I just love Lloyd, I mean look at thim, I could throw everything I believe in and all the feminism trough the window just to get on my knees between his murdr thighs…. I hope you enjoy this gift Lloyd Lovers…. I mean the movie is not even OUT yet, we only had seen a minute of content and I’m already drippingggggg

not beta-ed, mistakes are current and my own hihi

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISSSS

You looked through the window at the mournful scenery, the sky weeped as you did, now it was a dark gray, the trees surrounding your father's property seemed so scary now, under this cloudy sky. A deep green who seemed to hide the darkest secrets. Everything seemed so dark after your father passed away just two days ago. You felt so alone now, your mansion so big and lonely, and so scary

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door of your father’s office opened, revealing a man that only by seeing him made you feel incredibly relieved. You walked towards him with a shy smile, hugging yourself until you reached him

“Hey sweetheart, how are you doing?” Andrew Barber, your father's lawyer greeted you with sympathetic eyes and a shy smile, he kissed your forehead as you appreciate the gesture of a man you’d known since you could remember

“Hey Andy, thank you for coming” you hugged yourself again, behind him Lloyd Hansen entered your late father’s study, and it made you wince, that man scared in a primal way you’d never end to understand. His eyes always seemed to find you and a dark smile followed, his perfectly trimmed mustache moves with his thin lips

“Hey Sunshine” he greeted

“Hey Lloyd” you whispered, not daring to even look him in the eye.

Your father was the city’s most notorious Mobster, Gangster, drug dealer. It was the truth and it was so ingrained in your system you took it as a normal part of life. Half of his businesses were indeed legit, after years of money laundering. Lloyd Hansen was his right hand man, he knew everything about the business and before being his most trusted man he was the enforcer, the most violent and bloodthirsty amongst his men. Former special agent of the CIA turned, he was dangerous, skilled in combat and war, and now most likely the head of the family.

Your attention turned to Andy again, as he took a seat in your late father’s seat behind the desk of his study

You took a seat in front of the desk, Lloyd placed himself behind you, making a lightning strike run down your back making you incredibly uncomfortable. Andy draw papers from his briefcase and laid them on the mahogany desk, organizing them in a tidy manner

“I’m here as an executor of your father's last will and testament” he said firmly, his lawyer face taking over. You nodded, knowing perfectly well his intentions, and calmly you listened to the man. You were your father’s only child, and your mother passed away when you were young, to your knowledge, you were his only heir, but Lloyd had been called too, you guessed to pass all the dark business to him

“Me, (Y/F/N) being sound of mind and body, present my last wish and testament” he started, reading your father’s last words, “Half of everything I have, properties and money on the accounts will belong to my only daughter (Y/N)” you let out a breath you haven’t even realized you were holding, in relief, “Even if it breaks my heart…” continued Andy with a frown, that made your blood ran cold, “... to leave you alone my sweet girl…” he continued, “...My last dying wish and conditions for you to receive my inheritance is for you to marry my right hand man Lloyd, who I’m inheriting the other half of all my belongings”

“What?” you asked, drawing the attention of both men, Lloyd’s hand squeezed your shoulders, “Did you know about this?” you stood from your seat with the sole purpose of looking him in the eyes, and stopped the contact. Lloyd was smiling knowingly

“Of course I did” he said calmly, “I was his right-hand man, the son he never had”

“Fuck you” you spitted out, “This is insane” Andy called you and you looked at him

“Andy” you called, pleading

“It was his last wish” he said firmly, “he was sound of body and mind…” you looked at Lloyd frowning

“What did you do? what did you say to him?”

“Nothing” he mocked, “He was always so afraid something could happen to you, he wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of after he was gone”

“I’m a grown woman” you said, “I can take care of myself”

“Yeah sure, what if his enemies come after you, uh?” he said then

“This is a conversation you should have in private” muttered Andy

“I want a witness” you demanded, “Look you can keep his dirty business, we can split everything in half I don’t care” you muttered, “But I think is excessive that I marry you, only because he didn’t think I could take care of myself”

“The will explicitly says that you only inherit after you mary Lloyd” Andy said, “this was redacted 6 months ago, and again, is valid, we all know he was in his right mind” you looked at Lloyd, he seemed so relaxed and calm

“Andy, get the fuck out of here” Lloyd demanded, but before he could leave you interupted in anger

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked, “You do not boss him around” but Andy look at you with sorry eyes

“He does now, sweetheart” he said, before he put all the documents on his briefcase and left the room, leaving you alone with Lloyd, who took two long steps to be right in front of you

He encased your jaw with his hand, his face so close to you you could feel his hot breath on your face, making the little hairs of your neck curl. his maddened gaze made you squirmed

“I’ve been at your father's side for fifteen years, and my father for longer” he said, “and a spoiled little brat is not going to keep me from assuming the lead of this family”

“Let me go” you cried

“You are going to marry me, whether you liked it or not, and before you think about it, good luck finding someone that could help you”

“All of this for power?” you asked, “Let it all burn to the ground I’m not marrying you!”

“I’m going to be the boss, and no one is going to ruin this for me”

“You are never going to be the boss!” you spitted out, anger gripping your every cell, you had never remembered an instance in which you were more angry that you were right now. You released yourself from his grasp and walked until you were behind the desk

“Oh really?” He drew a smile so wicked it made you shiver. Of all your father’s men, you feared Lloyd the most, not because of his aspect, but because of his silent, deadly and smug demeanor. You knew him and knew what he was capable of, and that’s why you feared and respected him, but now? you were so angry you didn’t care, but you should…

He was on you in a second, with his hand encasing your throat and made you retreat until your back was against the wall. You whined and squirmed, trying to scratch his thick arm, but he was wearing a wool sweater that prevented you from injuring him

“Let me go!” you cried

“No until you marry me, hell, maybe not even then” he chuckled darkly. His handsome face, his hand on your neck barely squeezing, the single tone of his voice made your thighs clench. You had always found him hellishly attractive, but dangerous, so dangerous. He seemed to read your thoughts, because he smiled wickedly, wrinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. “I have to confess, I always wanted to do this, claim you, like you belonged to me…” he growled like a raging animal, and in a primal way you felt the danger, not only for your body but for your very soul, he was going to devour you whole. “Because you do”

“No” you whined, staying incredibly still

“I will make you mine then” he growled. He threw you over the desk, the air suddenly left your lungs when he pressed you against the hardwood

“I’m going to take what is mine” he threatened in your ear.

“Please lloyd, be nice” you begged, knowing that you couldn’t stop him, and actually doubting if you even wanted him to stop him. You felt so exposed like this, your dress a little short so your ass was almost uncovered. He held you against his desk with one of his hands behind your neck grabbing you oughly, and the other sneaked under your dress,

“I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll beg me to marry you” he laughed

“I’ll never…!” he ripped your thighs in a single movement, the sting burned your skin and the sudden chill air in your skin made you tremble, “no please” you begged, squeezing your thighs tighter. You didn’t know if you really wanted to stop him, or if you were scared he’d found how wet you were for him.

It was the latter

“Would you look at that” of course he mocked you, “I haven’t even touched you yet and I can actually see how wet you are without even taking out your panties” you whined hiding your face from him, but nothing could scape him, he was over everything, that’s why he was going to be the boss after all.

“NO” you moaned, when you felt he sneaky fingers dangerously creeping in the lines of your panties

“I think you need to come to terms with the fact that I’m going to claim you, and you want me to do it” he mocked you, you trembled with a single of his fingers lazyly and barely touched your weeping pussy, almost a light touch was enough to made you moan

“No I don’t, you are not the boss” you wanted to provoke him, you wanted more, you wanted to tip him over the edge

“Let’s see, shall we?” his hand left your underwear and you didn’t like it.

He touched a single button on the phone right beside your head, a gruff voice greeted Lloyd at the other side

“Ari, would you be a sunshine and get the men in here?” he asked on the phone, and you trembled under him, squirming and turning like an alligator.

“No!” you whined, but he only chuckled darkly, resuming his movements under your dress, finally ripping your underwear, “Why…?” a moan escaped your mouth interrupting yourself when you felt his thick fingers entering your pussy, his thumbs pressed on your clit making you cry out in need. You were so wet you thought something embarrassing had happened

“You are right, I will never be the boss” he said simply, “If I don’t assert my dominance now…” the door opened and trough it all your father’s most trusted men walked in, Andy, Ari Levinson, Nick Fowler, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, August Walker… you couldn’t see the rest because your eyes turned to the back of your head when two of his fingers curled inside of you touching and rubbing your g spot making you cum on the spot without a single warning

“Sunshine!” he reprimanded you but with a mocking voice, “You had to give a little preview first” he mocked, “I barely touched her sweet, wet little pussy and she already cummed on my fingers!” he told the rest. And you whined trying to hide your face from their heated gazes. The shame was overpowering your pleasure, tears threatened to burn your eyes.

“C'mon Sunshine” he purred in your ear, “give them a show, prove them that you are mine” his fingers kept moving, provoking, exploring. You felt his weight on your back, “Can’t wait to make you cum on my mouth” and the ghost feeling of his mustache on your clit make you tingle against him, and you wondered how good it must feel.

“´Lloyd” you called

“What do you want, baby?” he asked,

“You” you moaned, wiggling your hips. You heard laughs and chuckled, but you focused on the feeling of your body instead, if not you were going to cry

“You want me?” he asked

“Yes please” you whispered. And he chuckled

“How can I say no to that?” the fingers left your pussy, his other hand still having you by the back of your neck. Single handedly you heard him unbuckle his belt and opening his fly

“Andy, you are ordained, right?” he asked

“That’s right” you heard him answer

“Can you marry us while she is cumming around my cock?” he asked

“Your orders boss”

“That’s damn right,” he said, pleased. grabbing his cock and ruining it with your weeping entrance. You buckle your hips at his rhythm. “Well gentleman, as you can see, I’m staking my claim” in one single push he was buried inside you to the hilt. You screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure. Because no matter how wet you were, his cock was so thick and big it still burned when he split you open for him

“Shit!” you cursed biting your lower lip, closing your eyes tightly as you felt every vein, every ridge, and his tip kissing your cervix

“Holy shit this pussy is so good” he moaned darkly, one of his hands grabbing your hip so tight you knew it was going to leave a mark. “It’s squeezing me like a fist”

“Lloyd” you cried, begged him, to move or to do something, because you knew that when he does, you were going to feel fucking amazing. You wanted to reach him, to touch him, but you couldn’t because of your position, the edge of the desk marking your thighs, your own body constricting your rib cage… but that all came to second place as you felt him retrieve himself and then thrust into you again, a slap sound could be heard in the room. His groin slapping against your ass. you moaned loudly, not hiding anymore how good he was making you feel.

He started a rough tandem, drawing sounds you had never made before. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his cock rubbed against that special spot. his and left the back of your neck and grabbed your hips, drawing you to him to meet each thrust.

“Fuck look at her” you heard the voice of Ari Levinson mocking you, watching your every expression your every sound you drew. Lloyd grabbed you by your hair, making you raise your head in the direction of your audience

“Look at her” he demanded, you opened your eyes and you looked at them, “look at her fucked out face” you closed your eyes, trying to zoom them out and just focus on how good you felt.

You felt an orgasm coming, your pussy clenched around him greedily, you moaned softly when he released you gently, letting you hide your face again in your folded arms.

“Fuck that’s it” he grabbed you by the hair again and made you twist your head in a way he could see your face twisted in pleasure, looking at how good you looked when you cummed

“So hot” he growled, “sweet girl that’s it, give me everything” your juice stained the base of his cock and made his thrusts resound in a squelching sound.

He took himself off of you, and you whined in protest, not liking it. You didn’t even get to see your audience and he turned you around, opening your legs and placing himself between them. He caressed your thighs gently before he grabbed them and made you stick to his hips. Your pussy colliding with his thick cock. You couldn’t see it, and you really wanted to, but he entered you so easily it was almost embarrassing, barely needing a little push the open you up for him again, the new, more intimate angle made the friccion it even more delicious when he kept his hard pase and rough thrusts. You wanted him against you, you reached for him also wanting to cover yourself from the men, that you could barely see from this new angle

and he leaned into you, his forehead pressing against yours.

His hands encased your ribcage, finally feeling your front. He leaned in to watch your tits bounce over the neckline of your dress. For now it was enough… Now later when he’ll have you all to himself he will take the time to touch you and savor you whole.

“Don’t look at them now, I want your eyes on me when you come undone on my fat cock” he encased your jaw with his hand, his deep blue eyes chilling you to your bone his wicked smile made you tingle even more, losing yourself on his handsome face. “You are going to come again for me baby?”

“It’s too much” you complained, feeling your puffy pussy weeping, so tender, raw and sensitive you were going to pass out

“Are you going to marry me now?” you kept turning and twisting

“No” it was a negative but you couldn’t hold a moan that came with it, the feeling of his thick cock rubbing against your walls were making you feel insanely good, your eyes were turning to the back of your head, and yet another orgasm was creeping on you and you fleetingly thought you were going to lose it. Your consciousness, your mind, your body, all of it.

“Really?” but as you almost touched the sky with your hands, he pulled out of you, making you whine in need, looking at him with teary eyes and found his mock face, smiling widely at you. You whined touching his black cardigan, demanding he resumed his thrusts

“No, please” you begged, your fingers sneaking under his wool vest and touching the hot skin of his muscled belly

“What do you want, you little slut?” he mocked

“please” your hands tried to find his cock, and he laughed in your face, mocking you, “keep doing it” you begged

“Are you seeing this?” he asked, looking at his men, many of them were touching themselves over their dress pants, many had their cocks out, and were shamelessly masturbating, “This little slut begging is something else” he turned his gaze back at you

“I’m not a slut” you protested

“That’s right, you are only mine” he entered you again and an inhuman sound left your lips. your walls grabbed him like a vice. And he amazed himself of how much he wanted to cum inside you. Something similar flied through your mind you wanted to cum, but the gaze of all of them on you wouldn’t let you

“Please Lloyd” you cried, your shame of being watched couldn't let you relax, “I’m marrying you” you promised, begging him with your eyes. his eyes looked in your for any signs of a lie, but couldn’t find any, his thumb caressed your cheek, and then he looked up to the group of men. He stilled his movements, leaving himself seated inside of you

“Get out” demanded to his men, and they all even looked shocked, that he would draw the line there after all of it, “GET THE FUCK OUT!” He shouted making you wince and they left the room like it was on fire. When the door clicked shut after the last one, he looked down at you, in his eyes where something other than malice and desire, something more… human

“I’m going to make you mine,” he sentenced. “This is where you belong, right under me” his sudden tenderness made you swallow your own words, as he resumed his movements, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands encased your face, keeping you in place gently, “You are mine” you just nodded, “say it” he demanded

“I’m yours” you said lowly

“You are going to marry me” he said then

“I’m going to marry you” you mumbled, your eyes trying to manifest him that you weren’t lying, you didn’t know if it was the pleasure, or fear

“You are going to have my babies” he demanded then

“I’m going to have your babies” you confirmed

“I’m going to keep you nice and bred all the fucking time” he growled his wicked smile appearing again as he leaned in and kissed you.

It was the first time he ever kissed you. His mustache tickled you making you smile against his mouth. and he chuckled darkly, grabbing you by the neck and pushed you until you were against the wood, taking your breath away when he separated himself from you

“I’m going to take care of you” he promised, “say it, believe it”

“You are going to take care of me” you whispered, and he smiled, kissing you again, this time, he didn’t release you and instead he fucked you rougher, faster, the tip of his cocks grazing your special spot every single time, you moaned on his mouth wantonly, needed him, your arms hugged him drawing him more tightly against you. Your legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him even closer to you. not wanting him to let you go. And just like that, your orgasm creeped out on you, your walls tightening around him, strangled his cock inside you.

“That’s it baby” when he separated himself from you a thin line of saliva still joined your hungry mouths

“Lloyd” you called like a prayer, looking into his eyes

“Fuck!” he yelled, with a last hard thrust he stilled inside you, cumming so hard, hot spurts of him cum painting your walls. “Shit Sunshine” he whined letting himself fall over your. You hugged him tightly against you, like you didn’t want him to separate from you, you didn’t want to let him go. “That’s it Pumpkin, sweet girl” he kissed your forehead, “FUck, I never cummed that hard before, shit” his stormy blue eyes found yours. And as you regained your breaths, you gazed upon one another. He kissed you again. more swiftly but no less powerful

You whined when he took himself off of you. Not liking the emptiness he left

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll be inside of you soon enough” he said with his gruff voice

You felt his thick seed dripping from your hole and down your thighs. Making you moan, repressing the need to collect it with your fingers, Lloyd did it for you, and then he fed it to you, rubbing his fingers in your mouth, and smiled widely when you licked his fingers, tasting his seed and moaning because of his salty taste

“That’s a good wife” he mocked, he actually helped you with your dress, putting it back in place and helped you on your feet. You whined again when your lack of pantis made you feel his cum dripping down your thighs, staining them

“Lloyd” you cried, but not even knew what you wanted from him, you looked into his eyes and he smiled softly, encasing your face with his hands, and leaned in to kiss you softly

“Mine” he growl against your mouth

“Yours” you confirmed, he lets go off you

“Now I need to talk to the men, so wifey, smile and go make me a nice dinner” he whispered derogatorily in your ear, spanking your ass, encouraging you to leave the office, the men outside smiling knowingly when they saw you, but they bowed with their heads as you passed by them. You were the wife of the boss now.

You heard the men laugh when they saw you could barely walk out of the study, hearing Lloyd

“Now, you all are going to pledge your allegiance to me” he demanded as you kept walking towards the kitchen to talk to the staff about the new order in the house

He was the boss now. And you were no longer the dutiful daughter, now you were the dutiful wife.

I've wanted to write about the clit tickler for a while now, and I will do it again! muajaja

PART II IN HERE

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lunarmoment · 2 years

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My contribution to the Dracula discussion is that I am now two days into studying for the bar and my brain is already melting, so I completely understand why new-lawyer Jonathan Harker is acting how he is. Others have said it before me, but it's taken me less than 48 hours to fully comprehend what has happened to the man's mind. You know how when a caterpillar goes into a cocoon, it doesn't just grow wings and pop out, but rather it melts into a goo before reconstructing itself to form a butterfly? That's what his brain is doing. It's in the process of reforming during his first year of being a lawyer. He is not yet a butterfly despite passing the bar—he is still goo. This is especially true because he does property law, the most confusing, archaic of the subjects. I can't judge him at all.

#dracula daily #I'm not saying I would do exactly as he is doing but I understand #I have wrapped myself into a cocoon of bar studying and am melting #one day I'll emerge as a butterfly but now I know it will not be immediately after finishing the bar

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yellow-yarrow · 6 months

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Liz is such an underappreciated character, I'm starting a collection about the things we know about her since the wiki doesn't have much info.

She went to law school for 4 years, (so she is in her early 20s) Evrart paid for it. I find it a little contradictory that he calls her middle class, since she also grew up in Martinaise & needed financial help for school, but maybe she is a little bit wealthier than the avarage person in Martinaise. She's a legal counsellor for the Dockworkers' Union and she's a socialist.

Evrart Claire - "Oh, Liz is a bright one!" He grins broadly. "I paid for that law degree myself, thinking it'll probably turn her all fancy, but hell, Harry -- she came back a firebrand socialist! Sometimes she scares *me* with her zeal."

Evrart Claire -"She thinks of herself as a guerrilla fighter. These middle-class kids and the books they read are crazy, Harry. I think she would rather be an *insurgent* than a lawyer. I hope it's a phase."

Easy Leo - "Oh, Lizzy? She is a real sharp tool. Mr. Evrart put her through some fancy school and everything, east of the river. Four years she was gone and when she came back she was all fancy and *law-yerly*." Easy Leo - "But she's a real nice girl, grew up in this here neighbourhood, knows everybody and gets along with everyone, real pillar of the community one day, I'm sure."

You - "Thank you comrade. Property is theft." Elizabeth - "Vulgar idiot," she shakes her head. Conceptualization - Your understanding of the worker's struggle is about one century old, she's thinking.

Elizabeth - "Listen, you Moralintern lackeys. You're a mob, enforcing the unlawful privatization of Revachol. Twenty fat men in the Occident are stealing it all -- and you're their body guards."

She is very pretty, "could be a model" but doesn't think highly of models.

Glen - "You *could* be, Liz. You could be anything. You could even be a model." Elizabeth - "*Even* a mod..." Her face stiffens. "Glen, I went to *law school*. I am an attorney." Electrochemistry - He's right, with a face like that she could be on the cover of La Débutante International. Glen - "So fucking what? Lots of models are actually really smart people, fuckwad!" Elizabeth - "No, Glen -- they aren't." Her tone is cold and uninvolved.

Rhetoric - When she's angry, she emphasizes the *s*. It gives her voice a strangely hypnotic quality. Her lips barely move as she speaks. Inland Empire - Frankly it's a bit terrifying.

Likes and dislikes:

Elizabeth - "Anodic dance music, you wouldn't get it." Elizabeth - "No." It doesn't look like she's into popular adventure-fantasy.

You - "Do you listen to disco?" The Gardener - "Uh... I'm gonna say no." "Can't wait to change out of these rags."

She is good at lying, to some degree:

Drama - She feels interrogated now. It's hard to say if she's lying. Composure - She hides it well, but behind the sweat and dirt there is something... else. In her rigid posture. Drama - You get a strange feeling, looking at that smile. It spoils the moment. It is disingenuous. You - What's going on here? Drama - Surely it was nothing, sire. Just paranoia.

Liz obviously doesn't like Harry, she didn't want to cover for Klaasje. She is annoyed with the Hardie boys.

Elizabeth: "Babysitting imbeciles... what the heck, Liz?" Elizabeth - "Why are you so fucking FAT, Angus?!" Lizzie snaps at him. "Now it's all pointless, because of *you*. You wasted my time. I told you, Titus --" she turns to him. "I told you to just give her up."

Her thoughts on Cuno:

The Gardener - "The kid did this, right? The red-haired rat? Can't say a sentence without *f****t* or *kipt*... He's always giving me trouble." You - "I was talking to him, yes." The Gardener - "Maybe you shouldn't be. I mean... you do your job, but that kid is beyond help.

Easy Leo says she is very nice and gets on well with everyone. I think we have to take into consideration that when we meet her 1. we play as a cop 2. she is in very high stress situations. She has a huge responsibility by being the union's lawyer. So I can imagine that she is usually a bit more like what she acted like as "the gardener", and doesn't always snap at people.

That's all I found so far, if anyone wants to add to this, feel free to do so

#long post #elizabeth beaufort #disco elysium #someone please tell me what part of revachol is 'east of the river' cause im too dumb to remember geography #i started this post like 2 days ago it got quite long lol #edit: i've been told east of the river is the wealthiest part of the city so that makes sense

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olderthannetfic · 2 months

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I think something a lot of people don't understand about fair use (re: https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/742672782138179584/genuine-question-that-maybes-dumb-but-i-just) is that you have to be willing and able to defend your creative expression as fair use in a court of law--and a lot of IP holders, especially the big ones like Disney, have a lot more money to throw at a lot more lawyers than the average fic author or fanartist.

Now, theoretically, making money off of someone else's IP can constitute fair use. This is where you get things like parodies--Weird Al, for example, has his entire brand based off of riffing on other people's music, and he does so in a creative way that ultimately constitutes fair use because parody is explicitly protected. Also, because ideas cannot be copyrighted--only specific expressions of those ideas--you could rip a plot wholesale from a Disney property, and as long as you change the names and specific expressions of characters/etc so that none of Disney's IP remains, that would fall under fair use... but, if Disney decided to come after you anyway, you'd need the money for a decent lawyer in order to prove fair use in court, because it's taken on a case by case basis.

That's why it's easiest to avoid a lot of guff from IP holders by simply not earning any money from your work. If you put your fic on ao3, the OTW is ready and willing to defend your right to do so in court if it comes to that. Most other sites aren't, and that goes especially hard for sites where money is exchanged and it's a lot harder to prove fair use.

Plus, it's much easier for an IP holder to prove infringement if you are making money off of their specific expressions of ideas in writing--using character names, in particular, which are easily searchable and irrefutably linked to copyrighted work.

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babyyhoneyyyyy · 2 days

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「✦ 🚨 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 🍷 ✦」 - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: "Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer". Where Lizzie, a devoted homemaker, meets Harry, a police officer in charge of interrogating her after a mysterious fire at her mansion that resulted in the death of her husband. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞 *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A call to 911 is usually more than enough in emergency situations.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens envelops you, with bright lights in red and blue hues cutting through the space as if they belong to it, receiving professional help from specialized teams while they try to talk to you and understand the situation. But after that, a sense of shock takes over, making you question whether what you're experiencing is part of a third-dimensional movie, distorting your own reality and transporting you to an alternate dimension for the most part.

That's exactly how Lizzie felt after flames consumed a large part of her property. She had sensed the smoke penetrating her nostrils, but what truly disturbed her was the buzz of screams. Cries from a man calling her name that quickly faded into whispers.

Lizzie found herself unable to react in any way other than trying to escape, seeking to reach him and see what was happening. However, the house seemed to be crumbling around her, and eventually, she fainted before reaching the door. That was the only clear memory she retained from that day; everything else started with a distant voice calling her, waking her up to find herself under a white ceiling and the scent of disinfectant.

Her stay in the hospital lasted just a day, more as a precautionary measure than for any injuries, of which, fortunately, she was free. She was in almost perfect condition, something that surprised even the doctors themselves.

But for that reason, when they confirmed her health, they chose to deliver the news to her without any euphemisms.

Contrary to her, her husband wasn't as fortunate. Apparently, the fire originated in his own studio, giving him no chance to escape and consuming him with the flames.

She had become a widow.

Her lawyer presented himself as her main support, assisting her in the necessary procedures to change her documents, update them, and allowing her to handle the move, the funeral, and subsequently, the burial.

Finally, when all that concluded, Lizzie was met with a sigh from her lawyer, who handed her a small envelope. She accepted it, while he observed her for a few more minutes before leaving his office.

A lump tightened Lizzie's throat; anxiety ran through her veins saturating all her senses as her hands trembled slightly when opening the envelope. And suddenly, everything around her seemed to freeze when she saw her name written alongside her original last name, followed by the phrase 'widow of Montecarlo,' and the text culminated with 'an entirety in inheritance'.

Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment. She knew the implications of that, beyond any property, money, jewelry, or cars, beyond any tangible thing she could conceive in her mind. This represented a new beginning, one she hadn't even imagined when she got married at the young age of eighteen.

She swallowed hard as she placed the envelope in the safe and let out a final sigh as she left the office, returning to her room. She walked through various rooms overflowing with classical décor.

Her heels echoed on the wooden floors, allowing their sound to reverberate through the rooms. The house was deserted; her lawyer had already left, and there was no trace of any household staff, as per her own request. She had decided to give them all a break, especially those who had also managed to escape unscathed from the fire in her previous property, which was already under renovation. She had determined that once it was ready, she would put it up for sale immediately. She couldn't bear the idea of walking through that house again.

The last door at the end of the hallway on the second floor housed her bedroom. It was a master bedroom that, at that moment, only contained her belongings still packed in suitcases, lacking any visible decoration.

However, as she approached, the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

Lizzie halted her steps and instinctively checked the delicate diamond watch on her wrist. It was six in the evening, and she hadn't scheduled any visits.

She hesitated for a moment, considering whether to go back to the first floor just to attend to an unexpected visitor, but the doorbell rang again, possibly indicating the urgency of the person. With a sigh, she turned her body and descended the wide stairs leading to the entrance and, finally, to her door.

The doorbell rang once more just as her hand reached for the handle, and she couldn't help but display a slightly annoyed expression when she opened the door, finding a tall man standing in front of her, causing her to pause for a moment.

The individual in question had a distinctive presence, with a young face and well-defined features, and although his hair seemed short, it revealed some curls. However, what unquestionably caught Lizzie's attention the most was his uniform.

It was an official attire consisting of a white shirt, a bulletproof vest with letters marked on the chest, and to add even more, a prominent badge was situated above it.

Lizzie felt her heart start to beat faster and chose not to say anything until the man interpreted it as a signal to introduce himself.

Unlike her furrowed brow, the young man immediately responded with a small smile, revealing dimples on his face. He glanced down for a moment, and Lizzie noticed he held a small notebook in his hands. Then, a husky voice spoke, "Miss Elizabeth?" Lizzie simply nodded. "I'm Harry Styles, the police officer in charge of your case".

The moment these words were spoken, Lizzie felt time speed up. She quickly blinked as she nodded and stepped aside at the door, allowing the man, whom she now identified as Harry, to step onto her property.

When they entered the main room together, she led the way and settled into one of the armchairs, gesturing for the young man to do the same before the door closed behind them. Lizzie avoided looking down to ensure her ring remained on her ring finger. Instead, she kept her gaze forward, watching Harry's subtle movements closely as he settled into the luxurious sofa and casually glanced around.

"Would you like some water?" she suddenly asked, catching him completely off guard. Although she didn't even know where that question came from, realizing that there wouldn't be another offer due to the absence of staff in the house, she thought it would be a kind gesture before they began.

"No, thank you". He finally responded after a moment's thought, grateful but with a half-smile, declining the offer. He had received strict instructions from his boss not to get distracted from his task. This was his first field mission, so he preferred not to mess it up.

"Cookies?"

Once again, his answer was negative, feeling increasingly embarrassed as he saw the woman's expression, who nodded gently and pouted slightly as she resigned herself back to the sofa.

Harry couldn't help but smile, clearing his throat before returning his gaze to the small notebook in his hands.

"Okay, I think we can start now".

The inquiries about that night varied in their formulation, from questions like "What were you doing when you heard the noise?" to "Were you nearby when you noticed the house was on fire?". Each one required an answer that related to and understood the situation.

Lizzie sensed that this was an interrogation aimed at connecting the loose ends, in case they found any evidence against her, so she made an effort to recall the events of that night accurately, inevitably reliving them.

At least an additional hour passed, she noted once again the clock on her wrist, confirming that more time had elapsed and that now only the dim artificial light of the living room illuminated the space. This incident was due to a malfunction, as she hadn't visited this house in many years and it was evident that there were still pending repairs. Despite this, she decided not to mention it to the policeman, preferring him to bring it up or simply ignore it. However, as the conversation became more casual, he didn't mention it.

The questions about the incident of that night gradually faded away, giving way to lighter questions, and it was only then that Lizzie decided to join him.

"Do you have a girl?" The question hung in the air as Harry observed her intently. Lizzie noticed how he ran his tongue over his lips, trying to alleviate the dryness of the conversation, ending with a soft bite on his lower lip before responding.

"No- Uh-" he paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "I've always been very focused on my work, thanks to my parents, so no, I really wouldn't have the time", he expressed, although a slight gesture of frustration crossed his lips before he continued speaking. "I mean, if I were truly interested in someone, I would find the time, but for now, there's no one". He concluded his explanation with a light sigh.

Harry awaited with some tension, anticipating a sarcastic response from Lizzie, considering the twists and turns he had taken to reach his explanation, however, instead of that, he saw her nod with a understanding expression on her face. A comforting relief washed over Harry in that moment, as if Lizzie's silent confirmation somehow validated his words and nerves.

Why did he suddenly feel so nervous?

"May I know the reason for the question?" he inquired after a few moments, waiting for a brief explanation of the young woman's interest, although in reality he showed more curiosity about her response. Harry watched as Lizzie's dark eyes settled on his face once again, subtly descending to his hands, still intertwined in his lap as he leaned slightly towards her. His heart began to beat quickly again as he followed her gaze.

"I don't see a ring on your finger". Lizzie responded with a slight shrug, initially downplaying the question, something that Harry found indecipherable whether he liked it or not.

"Aren't you too young to have been married?" he suddenly asked, on impulse as he tried to delve into the topic, although he almost immediately regretted the inopportune nature of his question.

Although the intention was good, the question came off as bold, especially given the situation he knew the woman was in. Harry lowered his gaze, feeling a lump in his throat as silence lingered, trying to find a quick way to change the subject.

Lizzy, on the contrary, continued to watch him, aware that the real question was implicit: «Aren't you too young to be a widow?» Still, she decided to answer: "Yes, I am".

"Excuse my boldness". Were the words she received barely after her response. Lizzie hesitated for a moment whether those apologies were genuine, for if they were, he wouldn't have waited for her response. However, this didn't bother her; rather, she found it entertaining..

"Don't worry", she replied with a nod of her head, maintaining a hidden smile as she looked down for a moment. "It's not the first time I've heard that".

Harry fell silent as he watched the woman rise from her seat, feeling his heart beat hard, fearing being expelled from the house for his audacity. However, he began to relax as he saw the young woman head towards a corner of the room, a little away from him, where a wide collection of bottles rested on a shelf. Her hand rested on one of them, dissipating the tension in the air.

"Would you like some?" Lizzie asked Harry, gently lifting a glass of whiskey. Harry was forced to swallow before answering: "I can't". He admitted sincerely.

Lizzie simply nodded and returned to her glass, taking another sip before sitting in front of him on the sofa. All while Harry watched her attentively.

"I understand", she replied after another sip. "I just wanted you to know that you're passing up the best whiskey in the country". Harry's smile was the response Lizzie was hoping for to continue. "But if that's not an option for you and that's why you're not having it, the offer of cookies still stands".

Harry's eyes repeatedly slid over Lizzie's face. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that drove him to keep looking at her. Perhaps it was her apparent youth, her glow despite her recent husband's death, or the feeling of prohibition by remaining in her house after the interrogation had concluded.

However, the time that had passed was enough for him to regret his decision.

"In fact, I'll accept the offer this time". He announced.

And for the first time that night, he noticed a similarity between her and himself: a dimple that appeared on her cheek when she smiled.

"Perfect".

For at least a quarter of an hour, time passed. Harry found distraction in admiring the architecture and luxury while Lizzie busied herself in the kitchen. In the distance, Harry caught the sweet aroma of the cookies, awakening his appetite as he waited eagerly. Finally, he saw Lizzie approach with a tray, possibly silver, and place it on the central table of the living room. It was then that he realized there was not only food, but also liquids.

In his eagerness to discover, Harry neglected the cookies as his hand quickly reached for the glass of white liquid next to the main plate. He contemplated the liquid for a moment, feeling its warmth on his fingers before perceiving a soft voice rising beside him, at the same time that the sofa slightly gave way under his weight.

"I refrained from adding alcohol. There's only milk", he heard her laugh as he held the glass between his hands, not daring to look to the side. "You can try it to confirm".

Harry closed his eyes briefly, letting the voice fill his senses.

From the moment she entered the house, he had ignored the sweet scent of her perfume. He avoided looking at her bare legs when she crossed them during the conversation. He even refrained from looking at her for too long while she spoke.

However, he ended up doing exactly the opposite. At this point, he had engraved in his memory the smell of her perfume and constantly wondered how significant it would be. He had memorized her posture, and instead of using his notebook, he kept himself busy by observing her intently.

"Everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer".

His eyes suddenly opened.

His attention was inevitably drawn to her once more, finding her finally by his side, watching him intently. Time seemed to stand still around them. Harry couldn't discern with certainty what was driving him to act, whether it was simply Lizzie's close presence or the use of the expression "good girl", yet something inside him was beginning to flood him with a comforting sensation, making him feel warm and filled with a desperate longing to get closer to her.

Harry quickly turned, averting his gaze from Lizzie, and refocused his attention on the glass of milk and the cookies still on the tray. Suddenly his craving for food vanished, and he preferred to take a sip of the milk, savoring its sweetness, although it didn't quench his thirst. It wasn't until he had almost finished his drink that he mustered up the courage to face the somber gaze of the woman beside him again.

Harry had faced the feeling of intimidation on various occasions, especially in front of authority figures older than him, with serious countenances. However, this time was different. Sitting next to her, with her large eyes fixed on him, he experienced a strange sense of intimidation, although he couldn't understand why, but instead of rejecting it, he felt a growing curiosity that propelled his body forward.

Unconsciously, he found himself moving closer to her with a subtle motion, with his lips parted and close enough to brush against her face, and at the moment he thought he was about to break the tension, he found himself enveloped in a void.

His confusion was reflected in the widening of his eyes, which blinked a couple of times before returning to the front, where he found Lizzie standing in front of him. His gaze immediately fell, and he moistened his lips, preparing to speak, perhaps to apologize for feeling her distance as discomfort, but before he could say anything, he felt nails digging into his cheeks, lifting his face.

Harry tried to move forward, stretching his arms for more, although he was immediately stopped. His cheeks were released, while his hands were held back.

Quickly, Lizzie had taken the handcuffs that were still on his belt while he became aware of his now more extended position in space, with his legs spread apart, leaving room for her to position herself. Before Harry could understand what was happening, his wrists were trapped in the handcuffs, leaving him restrained in the armchair.

He tried to glance back, but the hands grabbed his cheeks once again, although with more force, ensuring visible marks were left. Forced to keep his focus on her, he could clearly distinguish her: her brown eyes, once bright from the room's light, now seemed darker, fixed on him as she sat on his lap, generating a warmth that consumed him.

He needed to be released. And not just from the handcuffs.

Then time began to pass quickly, just like the palpitations of his heart. His lips parted, seeking to catch his breath, but found only agitation, while small moans escaped from his throat at the wet kisses that left marks on his neck.

He wanted more.

He felt his shirt slipping off his body, feeling a slight coolness on his chest, soon replaced by the warmth of the kisses he received. A hand joined the game, caressing him as he tried to lower the fabric as much as possible, frustrated by the handcuffs that prevented his complete release.

He wanted more.

The hand descended, quickly unbuttoning his pants as he rose on the armchair, holding his weight and that of the woman on him. Both rose enough to pull down his pants to his calves, until he could push himself to remove his shoes and pants with the help of his feet.

But still, he wanted more.

He was beginning to experience a growing desperation as time passed. The palpitations in his chest kept him on edge, rising and falling just enough to provoke sighs, but just when they seemed to be heading where he needed them most, they rose again.

The moans filled the room as Harry began to move more forcefully, trying to seek something more than just a simple rubbing between his underwear and Lizzie's skirt. At first, he thought maybe she would feel sorry for seeing him like that, but seeing her eyes turn back to him without compassion, he realized he was wrong.

His breath caught when he saw Lizzie slowly unbuttoning her blouse, with agonizing slowness. Even when he prepared for his work as a policeman, he had not experienced such painful exercises as seeing her with her naked tits brushing his face, and not being able to feel them.

"I saw you very thirsty", she whispered, her voice resonating in a softer tone than usual, awakening in Harry a sensitivity he could barely recognize at that moment. "Do you still want milk?"

His eyes brightened at the question, his head nodding before he could articulate a response; that was all Lizzie needed to pick up the half-finished glass of milk and pour it unhesitatingly over her breasts.

Harry paused for a moment, watching the white liquid carelessly spilling over the woman's nipples, seeing how the drops gradually disappeared over the edge of her skirt. He let out a barely audible sigh, unable to contain it, and then shifted his gaze to Lizzie, who looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if she had made a small oversight, although Harry received it with gratitude. He felt so grateful that, if necessary, he would have fallen to his knees to express his gratitude right at that moment.

"Oh, shit".

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she held Harry's hair, who finally decided to approach and take one of her breasts in his mouth. She could feel his tongue gently swirling around her nipple, alternating between delicate movements and firmer suctions.

Instinctively, her hands slid over his body, caressing his skin until they reached the edge of her skirt, which was already starting to feel too warm. She sensed Harry's lips slightly parting from her, which prompted her to immediately open her eyes to look at him.

She was met with his angelic face, with green eyes expanding towards her from below, his curly and disheveled hair, his moist face, and his lips with traces of white liquid at the corners. It was an image that was etched in her memory and urged her to act with greater urgency.

She took a deep breath before separating slightly from him, hearing a complaint starting to form on his lips before he fell silent upon realizing that Lizzie's skirt, along with her underwear, was disappearing. Despite feeling close, she had to take a few steps forward to return to Harry's lap, all while he watched her with his dark eyes, showing submission but pretending to hide something more. Lizzie wondered what it could be, but she didn't give it much importance as she returned to her position, feeling his cock more comfortably beneath her, although still covered by his underwear, brushing against her now naked cunt.

No more than a second passed before she refocused on her own pleasure, starting to move in circles around him again, while moans filled the room once more, both hers and Harry's, who, through his sounds, begged for mercy.

The rhythm intensified, leading Lizzie to abandon the circular movements and start with pelvic movements back and forth. Her excitement fluids facilitated the sliding over the cotton fabric of his underwear, allowing her to perceive more than she had imagined.

Contrary to his own satisfaction, Harry couldn't bear it anymore. A mix of excitement, desperation, discomfort, and anger invaded him as he couldn't feel completely satisfied. Although he had obeyed Lizzie's words, seeing her rubbing herself on him without really feeling her touch deeply frustrated him. He found no other way out than to start pushing forcefully, making the woman's body move sharply on top of him, causing her to open her eyes once more.

"Please", he managed to articulate, while his hips moved slightly.

Lizzie watched him for a few additional seconds before a mocking smile appeared on her face.

"Are you that needy for my pussy?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he felt three fingers invading his mouth, silencing him immediately as he sucked and moistened them. Then, as if his prayers had been heard, he felt Lizzie moving slightly away from his lap. He saw her kneel in front of him, taking off his underwear and exposing his erect member.

A sigh escaped his lips as the fingers, soaked with his own saliva and pre-cum, caressed his glans and began to masturbate him with the palm of her hand.

"Fuck me".

His voice emerged without hesitation, rough from the dryness in his tongue and throat, yet irresistibly enticing for Lizzie; eager for Harry.

"Is that an order?" she asked, teasingly. "What do you plan to do if I don't? After all, those handcuffs are in your hands, not mine". The massage on his cock became more vigorous, causing jolts from the fires he felt under her hand.

"Let's try again, officer", she suddenly mentioned, making his eyes close for a moment. His profession hadn't even crossed his mind until that moment, but the prohibition of the moment wasn't what affected him the most, but a fire that resurged within him, rising from his lower part to his chest, filling him with excitement as he heard her.

"Shit- Please, please fuck me".

A fleeting smile appeared on Lizzie's face and quickly disappeared as she sat in the place she had desired so much but from which she had refrained, not suppressing the moan that escaped once she achieved it.

She was about to start more energetic circular movements, finding something to hold on to this time, but her actions were overshadowed by those of the man beneath her, who had taken the lead, pounding forcefully and swiftly, making her sigh softly as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the pleasurable sensation.

Then she realized that Harry's urgency was expressing itself in that way, and she let herself go, allowing him to take the lead even when his hands remained restrained.

Lizzie was forced to hold onto the couch when she found that simply leaning on Harry's shoulders was not enough to withstand the onslaught she felt inside her. Her eyes involuntarily closed, unable to keep her gaze on him for long, while her lips parted in search of air. She only found relief when Harry's tongue joined hers on her neck, leaving the same careless kisses she had given him at the beginning, but this time he decided to intensify the sensations with suctions. Lizzie had no doubt that the marks would remain there for at least a week due to the force with which he made them.

"God- You fuck me so good", she exclaimed, accompanying her groan with a whisper that made Harry open his eyes, becoming hypnotized by the sight of Lizzie's tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He bit his lower lip to contain his own impending moan.

"I'm so close- Oh fuck! Fuck-". Lizzie's own moans intertwined, becoming more intense, filling the room with their sound, resonating even throughout the house.

Harry sharply inhaled air between his teeth, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the electric current running through his body, although he had been avoiding that moment, wanting first to observe Lizzie's reaction, wanting to absorb it completely.

"Look at me", Lizzie's voice pulled him out of his reverie, as she took his chin and forced their gazes to meet once more. "Come on, be good and let me feel you pulsating as you fill me with cum".

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open as he did his best to maintain his gaze on hers, intensifying his rhythm as much as he could, seeing her mouth open as she brought her face closer to his, brushing their lips.

"Harry!- Fuck".

Then climax came for both simultaneously, with their foreheads united and sweat sliding down them. Harry felt Lizzie's cunt walls squeezing his cock, which throbbed inside her, while she experienced a sensation of fullness and warmth, an excitement that ran through her whole body and left her trembling as she moaned softly.

As the minutes passed, their breaths calmed down. Although the atmosphere was still imbued with heat and disorder, Harry finally felt liberated, despite still having his hands handcuffed.

The large clock struck three in the morning when they woke up without realizing how long they had remained in that position. Lizzie noticed the weight on her eyelids, indicating the need for rest, but she was forced to separate from Harry when she felt the burning sensation in her thighs, and the first thing she saw when she got up was the slight smile on Harry's face.

"I don't know if you've had experience as a criminal before, but you look very comfortable with those handcuffs".

The comment only made Harry's smile widen before he opened his eyes and replied: "I can't feel my wrists".

Immediately after, Harry watched as the dimple on Lizzie's face reappeared, but this time accompanied by a genuine laugh.

After he revealed the location of the key that would unlock the handcuffs and she finally managed to free him, she walked to one of the utility rooms in search of a blanket, still naked and feeling the cold air brushing against her skin.

Lizzie focused on her destination, avoiding looking elsewhere, entered the room, took the blanket, and walked out without looking back, ignoring the shadow she had perceived slipping down the hallway.

Once they settled on the sofa in the living room, she watched as Harry's hand reached for the silver tray that had remained on the central table, and he took one of the cookies she had prepared. At that moment, Lizzie suspected that perhaps that action had caused her perplexity upon learning of Richard's death.

Because it hadn't fit with her plans.

The chocolate cookies had awaited on her bedside table in the previous room, expecting her husband's first bite upon returning from the office after a long day of work.

That would have been the culmination, the beginning of something new.

So she understood that this episode marked the real beginning, perhaps the prelude to a dangerous game she was willing to embark on once again. From scratch.

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tinydeskwriter · 2 years

Text

Traitor

EXTRA ONE; PARTE TWO; EXTRA TWO; PART THREE

singer!reader

summary: he took everything from you, so you are taking something from him. or, Harry is your ex, who left you for another woman after eight years of dating, your feeling revengeful and it's the Grammy’s night 2021.

word count: 3567

warning: angsty

A/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HARRY. Niall make’s a appearance, Zayn is mentioned, let’s remember that this is fiction and it doesn’t reflect my personal opinions, but, like in every cheating story, we need villains… reader is in no way perfect, she is revengeful, she’s not meek, I decided to write her because I am tired of the nice, understanding, good girl, forgiving and moving on trope, I want someone who will be revengeful and mean and make him pay and regret for her broken heart…even if she still loves him. English is not my first language, so please be kind.

TRAITOR

Grammy Night- 2021, March 14

Her skin is glowing and she is more beautiful than ever.

Her hair shines under the lights, loose in waves to her hips with a diamond star tiara adorning it borrowed from Fred Leighton. Her dress is entirely hidden under a cloak embroidered in silver threads and small crystals, which she has no intention of taking off before her performance.

It's the first time the pop icon has been seen in public since the end of her more than eight-year long relationship was announced by her ex's representatives back in December.

Her team had remained silent, even when they were approached by members of the press for comment after Harry was photographed with his new love less than a month later. Her only comment to the whole debacle was a post on Twitter: {I guess I won our ‘I love you more’ game}, that fans took as a admission that Harry had left her for his director.

For all intents and purposes, Y/n seemed to have disappeared from the face of the Earth after their break-up.

Emails went unanswered, messages went unread and calls ignored. No one had found her in their London home, the penthouse in Tribecca, the mansion in Los Angeles or the Villa in Italy that the couple had acquired together during their years of relationship,— another thing they had to sort out— despite never having married, they had acquired assets together, properties, cars, works of art, Harry's lawyers were already starting to lose patience with Y/n's team not knowing the singer's whereabouts. He wanted to solve everything as quickly as possible to start the new chapter of his life.

Y/n posed for some photos on the red carpet—she looked more beautiful than ever, yes, but fans would comment on the photos afterwards, she didn't look radiant as usual, her smile was small and forced, and her eyes lacked the usual sparkle— she refused to do interviews or answer questions, soon being escorted by her manager into the event.

The singer had seven nominations, and after the critical success that her album had been, it was certain that at least some of the awards she would take home— to join the twelve she already had from her previous albums—, after her dramatic four-month disappearance, her performance was also highly anticipated, as was the reunion between her and Harry—after all, he had also received nominations and was expected to perform that night—.

Y/n walked around the event hall being escorted to her table at the front of the stage, stopping from moment to moment to be greeted and congratulated on the nominations, one person or another regretted the end of the relationship, 'you two made such a beautiful couple' she listened more than once that night.

Their table was between Billie Eilish and Dua Lipa’s table, and she had a perfect view of Harry’s a little further back. He was the opening performance, so she wouldn't see him for a while.

Y/n would only perform in the middle of the show, she was the artist who had received the most stage time— long enough to sing a three-song medley, never heard before music that would be released on EP that night—, it was her way of correcting the narrative and to let people know her side of the story. For far too long she allowed his team to control the narrative, control the damage to his image.

After all, TPWK is kind of hypocritical when you cheat on your girlfriend of almost a decade and leave her for another woman.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” her manager and friend questioned when they were both sitting away from the hearing field of the people around them. “You can keep the cloak on during the performance…”

“But then it wouldn't be revenge...” Y/n said back. “He took everything from me, I want him to suffer a little, I want to make it difficult, I want him to see wha I am taking from him...”

They were supposed to be planning a wedding.

The beginning of the rest of their lives together.

They had been together since she was sixteen years old, she had practically 'grown up' with him, H was as much a part of her identity as she was his. They knew each other better than anyone, all the secrets, the personality traits. They were one of those couples that didn't even need words to communicate, that was the level that they knew each other.

He took her happiness away from her.

And why? Because he was lonely? Because he couldn’t be by himself for two months?

They usually planned their schedules around each other so they could be together, the longest period they had away was when he was still in the band, and Y/n embarked on her first solo tour. But now they were getting into acting, and Covid got in the way of filming schedules, her movie was pushed, and then they are filming at the same time in two different countries.

There was also some sourness over the fact that she got the role in the Elvis biopic and he didn’t.

The ceremony began. Y/n barely paid attention until Harry walked onto the stage, handsome in a black leather suit, shirtless and with a green boa. She smiled slightly, knowing there would be cameras on her, and held back the urge to cry—in vain, as her eyes were watering, and by the end of the performance when she gracefully clapped, tears had run down her face—.

How could she not cry when he was on stage, singing a song about her, as if it didn’t affected him after he'd broken her heart?

She had already won Video of the Year at the premiere ceremony, beating Beyonce, Harry and Drake, and lost Best Duo to Ariana and Lady Gaga.

Y/n was ushered backstage to prepare for her performance just as Harry took the stage to receive his first-ever Grammy—her second loss that night—.

As she walked, an assistant helped her remove her tiara and replace it with a more over the top headdress, a large halo with flowers and a delicate red veil that fell over her eyes.

The singer dropped the cape, showing off the dress she would wear in the performance.

A masterpiece in fabric. Sheer so you could see her skin through the fabric, the delicate tattoos accumulated over the years, the delicate crystal flowery embroidery covering all the necessary parts, and the colorful embroidery of a bleeding red heart between her breasts.

Her belly of almost six months of pregnancy delicately accentuated and proudly showing for the word to see.

Y/n truly looked half a goddess.

The woman smiled when she saw her longtime friend waiting for her near the stage stairs, guitar in hand.

“Thank you for agreeing to this.” She greeted him with kisses on the cheeks as the stagehands prepared her.

“And miss my chance to perform at the Grammys?” Niall joked with a smile, then got serious. “He's my friend but you're a sister to me, and he hurt you, of course I'll stand by your side.” Y/n never had a big family, her whole life had been her and her mother, and her mother had passed away in 2019 after two years of battling cancer. When Harry left her, she lost the last family she had left. Hearing Niall call her sister made her emotional, no matter how many times she heard it.

She didn't know what would become of her if it wasn't for Niall and Zayn in the last few months. Zayn, Gigi and Khai had been her support system when everything seemed to fall apart. It was Zayn who called Niall, who dropped everything to be with her.

Niall and Zayn had helped her write her heartbroken songs, her version of the breakup that still generated tabloid gossip. The songs were more acoustic than her usual, and normally she would play the guitar herself, but her belly wouldn't allow it, so she asked Niall, who knew the compositions as well as she did. She needed the emotional support of his presence to keep from falling apart—other than that she knew the internet would go crazy seeing her accompanied by another member of her ex's former band—.

“Thank you so much Ni.” She thanked him with a sincere smile, squeezing his hand. “You and Z, I don't know what I would do without you two.”

He gave her an understanding smile and helped her onto the stage.

Y/n's stage was simpler than Taylor's cabin in the woods had been, but her intention was to keep things simple and delicate so as not to distract from the songs.

The stage was covered in flowers, a garden of wilted sunflowers, there was a high stool for Niall to sit on, and a white grand piano, the backing singers and her band were already in place. Niall sat in his place, while Y/n positioned herself behind the door she would enter through.

She heard Noah Trevor announce her performance on the main stage, and the voice in the earpiece cued the band to start playing the chords of I Burned LA Down.

Y/n opened the door just before singing, the spotlight focused on her, she walked through the stage in between the flowers as the background changed to the Positano summer sunset.

The same sunset under which Harry had proposed her in 2019.

She hooked the microphone to the stand, eyes closed as she sang to try to contain the emotion, one hand on her stomach where the only good things left of their relationship was kicking her hard on the ribs.

You can’t make a God of somebody,

Who isn’t even half of a half decent man

Her band started to transition to Traitor, she took a deep breath, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to hold back the tears now, the next two songs in the medley are deeply emotional ones to her.

Green guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah,

I played dumb but I always knew

That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

She was accusing him in every way except calling out his name, everyone knew who she meant, and she imagined everyone's shock.

There was no need for a guessing game as in the songs of so many other singers.

Y/n had only dated Harry since she was 16, he had green eyes, the timeline of his new relationship was already suspicious to many fans, but so far Y/n hadn't spoken about it and everyone accepted the version given by the team of the new couple.

The dancers entered through the same door that she had entered, during the chorus, they danced among themselves and around the singer, interacting with her at one time or another as she could not properly dance.

The background was slowly changing to the starry sky of Palm Springs, the same beautiful winter night sky from the day that he broke up with her—because he was starting to grow feelings for the director ten years older than he was, and he wanted to explore those feelings—.

It took you two days

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

Y/n didn't even realize when she started crying.

Her voice expressed all the pain and suffering she felt at that moment, and there, present and at home watching, thousands of hearts broke alongside with hers.

The more observant would notice that she still had her engagement ring on her finger, as well as Harry's 'S' ring —which he had given her a few years ago, representing the fact that he intended to one day make her his wife— and she played with the rings over her bulging belly.

When she's sleeping in the bed we made

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

Dramatically, Y/n intended to return the rings to him during the ceremony, the famous 17-carats engagement ring and his gold ‘S’ ring would be delivered to his table as soon as she was called on stage to receive an award—because everyone knew she would receive it— her latest album had broken all records, and she was the female artist with the longest-running song on the Billboard 100 for 78 weeks, the same song that had won Video of the Year for.

The lights dimmed as the song transitioned to Enough for You, the dancers left the stage, followed by the background singers and part of the band. Under the spotlight were just Y/n, Niall and Jay, her guitarist.

I knew from the start this is exactly how you'd leave

You found someone more exciting

The next second, you were gone

And you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong

Y/n looked off into nothing while singing, it wasn't like there was an audience, the only people watching was Taylor Swift, who had performed shortly before and was returning to the main stage, and Dua Lipa, who would perform later, and was on the way to her stage.

She had learned of the closeness between Harry and Olivia through Glenne Azoff back in November, but chose to believe Harry when he visited her in Australia and said there was nothing between them. How foolish she was. The next time she saw him, she was excited to inform him about the possibility pregnancy they'd been dreaming of, but before she could say anything, he broke up with her.

He said all his reasons. And Y/n had never felt so worthless before, so not good enough.

And maybe I'm just not as interesting

As the girls you had before

But God, you couldn't have cared less

About someone who loved you more

I'd say you broke my heart

But you broke much more than that

Now I don't want your sympathy

I just want myself back

She'd given herself 100% in a relationship for nearly nine years, she'd loved him with every bit of her broken heart, only for him to dump her for a woman he'd met in two months.

Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

Her voice failed amidst the tears, though she kept singing the song until the end, it was safe to say there weren't many dry eyes.

You say I'm never satisfied

But that's not me, it's you

'Cause all I ever wanted was to be enough

But I don't think anything could ever be enough

For you, enough for you, oh-oh

No, nothing's enough for you

The stage lights dimmed with the last chords played by Niall, and the camera turned to Noah Travor, as stagehands approached to help the singer with the equipment strapped to the back of her dress. Niall dropped the guitar leaning it against the bench he had been sitting on, and approached his friend hugging her while she finished crying in his arms.

“You were fantastic.” Niall praised her stroking her back. “Breathtaking, I don't think I've ever seen such an emotional performance.”

“I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything...” She said against his shoulder.

They were interrupted by Y/n's assistant warning her that she had to change clothes and get back to her table, she only had twenty minutes until the next category she was nominated for was announced. She said goodbye to Niall with kisses on the cheek, promising to see him later at the after party in her house.

The assistant helped her change her hair ornaments on the way to the dressing room, her dress zip was already halfway down when she reached the door, and her support staff made quick work of helping her get dressed. Her second dress was worthy of a movie star, with crystal embroidery, and fringe, tight, again showing off the shapes that Y/n had gained with pregnancy —she was one of those lucky women who had only grown in her belly, from the back she didn't even look pregnant—. She glowed under the artificial lights, the crystals shimmering rainbow colors whenever she moved.

“Y/n...” Lisa, Y/n's assistant for over five years called her. The singer turned, her eyes quickly falling on the jewelry box the older woman had in her hand. The young woman sighed, taking one last look at the rings she had worn more than any other piece of jewelry in her life, she had put them on for the first time in months that night, and it was as if she had never taken them off. She slipped them through her fingers for the last time, depositing them inside the box offered by Lisa. “I'll deliver it myself, as soon as you're on stage.”

The singer just nodded, following the stage assistant back to her table. She was greeted by Taylor Swift on the way back, who praised her performance, the two briefly took off their masks to speak, and Y/n was sure there would be photos online of the moment "Harry Styles' two famous exes hug at the Grammys. After Y/n Y/l/n debut songs about the breakup with the British singer."

Y/n had barely sat down when the night's second General Category was announced. The video with the Song of the Year nominees played on the screen, and then Noah opened the envelope with the winner's name.

“Wow, this is tense...” He said into the microphone, holding up the open envelope. “And the Grammy Award Winner for Song of the Year is... Boys Will Be Boys* by Y/n Y/l/n.”

Y/n stood up to the applause, hugging her manager, and walking to the stage in calm steps concentrating on not falling off her high heels, her music playing in the background as Noah offered her his hand on the steps.

“Thank you.” She thanked him before going to the microphone, and taking the award in her hands, feeling the weight in both hands. She looked at the people seated and smiled. “Golly, I honestly didn't prepare a speech, my manager, I love you Lia, said and I quote: You're against Queen Bey, Billie, HER, TS, Dua and Julia...don't even bother...” Y/n waited for the affectionate laughter to subside before continuing. “I would like to dedicate this award to all of my fantastic team, to the fans, without you I wouldn't be here today, to my fellow nominees, just being nominated alongside you would have already been an immense honor, I would also like to dedicate this award to all the artists who wrote and released spectacular songs in the year gone by and weren't nominated tonight, an award, a nomination, doesn't diminish your worth. Thank you.”

Y/n was hugged by Lia and Lisa as soon as she left the stage.

“He looked like a kicked puppy when I handed him de box.” Lisa commented in the singer's ear when the two hugged. “He's completely stunned, and Jeff looked stressed.”

Knowing Jeff as she did, he was probably thinking of ways to reverse the negative publicity they were getting.

Lia showed the cell phone to the singer.

By all estimates, Y/n's EP could break the record for most streams in the first 24 hours held by Taylor Swift's 'Foklore', while 'Traitor' and 'Good Enough' were competing against each other for the song with the most number of streams in the first 24 hrs. People were listening and commenting, sharing their reactions on Tik Tok and Instagram.

It was all trending on Twitter, the Harries were disappointed in their idol, and Y/n's fans had even started a boycott campaign on Twitter canceling Holivia and their movie. If until now things were contained with their blurry narrative, after the release of the EP and the singer's performance at the Grammys, it had turned into a truly shit show. Her pregnancy had also blindsided the world, most agreed that the baby was Harry’s, with only a few questioning the paternity.

She gave Lisa her phone back.

They went back to their table, Y/n still had three more nominations.

“Jeffrey texted me.” Lia commented, already typing a reply. “They want a meeting.” The older woman didn’t take her eyes off her cell phone, typing furiously on the device. They knew lawyers would be included in the meeting, Lia was used to Jeff's more aggressive MO.

Y/n had never had to deal with any of that, because until that moment she had been Harry's ‘Lovie’, and they were in same team, now she would be on the opposite side of the table.

“We’re ready.” Y/n said without taking her eyes off the stage, clapping at the right moments. “The lawyers have already prepared all the documents.”

Y/n intended to make him pay for her broken heart.

She glanced quickly at Lia. “Just make sure the meeting is after the interview airs.” Her manager just nodded.

The singer ended the night with three more awards, beating Harry’s Fine Line for Best Vocal Pop Album, and taking the other two awards in the General category, being the biggest winner of the night.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

Up All Night 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, narcissim, probably name calling and nasty words, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (older!reader)

Note: I wasn’t serious about this but now I were. Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You take the three minutes you have before you’re due for the meeting to pull on the black leggings you keep in your gym bag. It’ll have to do. You don’t have time to waste. The cardigan conserves your professionality.

You enter the meeting room. Ransom sits, hunched slightly as he squints at his laptop. He rubs his cheek, his lack of sleep showing in the bags under his eyes. You sit in one of the sleek black chairs and tap your fingers on the table. He aims a pointed look in your direction. You tap your nails louder.

“You call these notes?” He scoffs as he looks back at the screen.

“Mr. Drysdale, if you have your own, I suggest you go off of those.”

He rolls his eyes and sits back. “Whatever, I don’t need to fucking talk about the book. This is about a contract, not whatever bullshit plot this guy dreamed up in his shit–”

You see Robert Laing through the transparent panes of the wall. You recognise him from his author’s portrait. You stand in expectation as Ransom remains as he is, slouching in his chair as he swivels it back and forth. You muster a smile as Laing enters.

“Good morning, thank you for meeting me,” he takes the lead as he enters.

“Been waiting,” Ransom mutters.

“Robert Laing,” the writer introduces himself, offering his hand over the table.

Ransom makes a show of sitting forward and shakes it halfheartedly. To your surprise, the prospective client turns to you. You shake his hand eagerly, “Mr. Laing, we’ve been looking forward to it.”

“I know you,” he returns smoothly, “you must be the face behind the emails.”

“Ah, yes, that would be me,” you say proudly, raising your chin, “I trust you received the firm’s offer then.”

“I did,” he lowers himself into the chair across from Ransom and you sit as well, “I had my lawyer review it, of course. I’ve terms, a few, no major changes. More of an author than an editor, which is where you come in.”

“What do you want?” Ransom demands.

You clear your throat, “what are your suggestions?”

Ransom pivots the chair slightly and stomps your foot under the table. You hide the pain in your crushed toes and push your shoulders wise. He’s a little brat and he doesn’t like being reminded of that. He has to realise Laing is a hot property he can’t bully into taking the contract.

“It would be the percentage, solely, on the rights,” Laing unzips his bag and slides out a thin tablet, “what I think you’ve offered is just below fair, I would say. You must understand, everything I create is very personal.”

“We do understand, Mr. Laing,” you assure him, trying to disguise Ransom’s scoff as you raise your voice.

“Forgive my assistant. She talks too much. Let’s not get confused, Robbie, I’m the boss,” Ransom says, “so the lady is gonna leave and let the men talk figures.”

You slowly glance over at Ransom, careful not to lose your poise. You keep your smile in place and gather up your leather folder and metal pen. You stand.

“Of course, Mr. Drysdale, you are correct, I am only the assistant. Mr. Laing, it was a pleasure. You are very talented and I hope your place is with Thrombey Press. If not, I wish you the best in your endeavours.”

“Thank you,” he stands politely, “very nice to finally place a face to the name.”

You nod and strut out without looking back. There’s nothing more you can do and if Ransom blows it, he’ll know exactly who to blame. Though you’re sure he lacks that humility.

🩸

You settle in at your desk, the smell of cappuccino wafting up from your blouse. A bitter reminder of your hectic morning. You review the workday against Drysdale’s personal calendar. You truly hope he doesn’t intend to meet with the new non-fiction editor at that club.

Just as you feel your irritation fading, Ransom appears, striding past without a word. He slam his office door and you glance over. He steps up to the blinds and closes them, blocking your sight. Oh, you don’t think it went well.

You continue, trying not to think about it. Laing would’ve been a great acquisition, especially since Drysdale has lost several during his tenure. A few minutes pass before a message pops up on your screen.

‘Asshole is ‘thinking about it’.’

You open Teams and type back. ‘Better than a no. Let’s hope he accepts.’

‘Cappucino is cold.’

His response is about as much as you expect. You reply with ‘yes, sir,’ and grab your purse. Anything to get away from him. The wall is hardly thick enough to simmer your agitation.

You sweep out and check your watch. You’ll allow yourself fifteen minutes to get it together and get his cappuccino. You’ll do your best not to spit in it.

At the coffee shop, a local place you prefer on your rare breaks, you put in your order. A cappuccino for him, a tea for yourself. You move along the counter, joining the queue at the window, waiting for them to call your name.

You stand close to a table, the shop overcrowded. A chair scrapes and someone coughs. You try to shimmy out of the way as someone stands on the other side of the table.

“Excuse me,” the familiar voice calls your name, “I thought that was you.”

You turn an greet Laing with a smile, this one less put on, “oh, surprise running into you here.”

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid I have a weakness for caffeine. A writer’s curse,” he smooths his lapel, “and you?”

“Tea,” you answer.

“Mm, yes, black tea?”

“Herbal, no caffeine,” you assure him.

There’s an awkwardness there, things unsaid.

“Would you mind,” he gestures across from him, “five minutes. I’d love to run something by you.”

“Oh?” you tweak a brow curiously.

“Forgive me, I don’t know the man well, but you seem the brains of the operation,” he explains, “and honest at that.”

“Right,” you utter slowly.

“I promise, I won’t keep you long enough for your tea to go cold.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you wave him off, “I don’t mind.” You sit and forget all about your order, “I really think you could do well with Thrombey Press…” you begin the pitch Ransom scrapped.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #series #the club #up all night #knives out #au #robert laing #high rise

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mingus-archives · 8 months

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I'm watching the documentary series "Dirty Money" and god is it a reminder that most people in the US don't know or understand truly rich people. I went to an ivy league university and I saw true wealth. Students with family mansions in the hamptons, with jobs set up at major banks the minute they graduated. Students whose families bought them houses to live in, who posted IG photos of them in different luxurious lodgings in every country of the world. I follow someone from uni on IG who regularly gets helicopters from her manhattan apt to the JFK airport. I had a friend whose date (an undergrad student) picked her up in a porsche. It is so damn frustrating to discuss wealth inequity now that I'm out of that world because most people from my hometown and where I currently live think doctors, lawyers, and small business owners (even slightly larger businesses) are upper class. This is not to say those professionals aren't financially privileged and middle class but they still work for the most part for their wealth; real rich people DO NOT DO THAT-they have properties, investments, and businesses that work for them. Real rich people buy thousands of dollars of luxury items with full intent of never wearing them. They have dinners with politicians and their children catered by the university. They have last names you'd recognize vaguely from CNN. This little rambling has no point except to remind everyone that it is likely an average person will never ever interact with the type of person that should be one of the rich we tax or eat, depending on your preference lol

#i never ended up befriending any of these wealthy students #the most i got was a facebook friend #but god the stories i heard #and the students i ran into #old money is no goddamn joke #ramblings #wealth inequity #wealthy #class inequality #wealthy elite #anti capitalism #eat the rich #tax the rich

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 23 days

Note

But there was an anon - I don't remember where I saw the comment - that speculated Meghan is going to hang in there until they've been married 10 years because of the joint property/asset laws that kick in at the 10th anniversary. That sounds pretty plausible to me, but with two major caveats:

What difference does the joint assets make? all Harry's asset was his mother's inheritance that he put in the mansion, she'll get it anyway with the custody, Spotify was hers, Spare was his and Netflix mixed

So first, I goofed. I didn't do the due diligence to look into the 10-year-rule. I thought it was about joint property but it's not. The 10-year-rule is actually about alimony and financial support. I think the thread there that my brain latched on to is how community property can be used as a bargaining chip in deciding alimony.

Also, I am not a lawyer. This is all stuff I've read about. If any lawyers want to chime in here, feel free!

So in a community property state, which California is, both spouses own everything earned, acquired, gained, lost, debted during a marriage equally. It doesn't matter whose name is on the paperwork. If it was acquired during the marriage, it belongs to both spouses. So the house, Spotify, Netflix, Clevr, Roop, speaking engagements, cars, any debt accrued, etc. They share that equally and when they divorce, it's going to be split in half. (And I suspect they'll fight over which half of the deals and how much money is half in the divorce.)

Now, also in a community property state like California, there's no prescribed length of marriage to earn half of everything earned and acquired in the marriage. The only instance in which assets are not divided 50/50 in a community property state like California is when there's a prenuptial (or a postnuptial) agreement in place outlining how the assets would be divided in case of a separation or divorce.

It's my understanding that the BRF doesn't do prenups like that so it's probably a safe assumption that Harry and Meghan don't have a prenup and they're going to be splitting all of the assets/properties/finances acquired after May 19, 2018 equally.

You mentioned Montecito Mansion being paid for with Harry's Diana inheritance. That makes Montecito Mansion commingled property - meaning it is both community and separate. So probably what would happen in that case is if there's a divorce and the divorce requires them to sell the house (which could happen), then the court would first award Harry a lump sum from the sale proceeds equivalent to the amount of Diana's inheritance that he paid, and if there's any money left, it's split equally between him and Meghan.

That's the community property side of it. Now for the alimony piece where the 10 years is important.

California has a 10-year rule for alimony:

For marriages lasting 10 years or less, alimony is usually awarded for half of the mariage.

For marriages lasting more than 10 years, alimony can be awarded on a permanent basis, with indefinite jurisdiction for modification (or termination).

So if the Sussexes divorce next month with after six years of marriage, alimony can be awarded up to, and no more than, 3 years. If the Sussexes divorce in 2029 after 11 years of marriage, there's no expiration date on the alimony. For example, a court could award it for 11 years or in perpetuity or for 8 years.

How much alimony someone is awarded is based on their financial need and stability. If Meghan wants alimony from Harry (aka Charles), it's possible she could agree to less of the community property to better her chances.

Will it happen? I don't think so. I don't think they're going to get alimony unless their situation changes very drastically. The only reason Sarah and Diana got alimony in their divorces was because they were dependent on their husbands/the BRF. (They took alimony in lump sum payments as part of divorce settlements versus recurring payments.) That's not Meghan's situation because a) she's in a community property state so she gets half of everything automatically and b) she has the ability to provide for herself in a way that Sarah and Diana could not.

And by "situation changes very drastically" I mean like the Sussexes lose all of their money and Charles takes them back as fulltime working royals. In that case, Meghan has become dependent on the BRF again so she would most likely get alimony.

What's more likely to happen is child support. Child support in California is assigned based on standard of living the children are used to. So if Meghan can prove that the children have a standard of living that's $2 million per month (mortgage, private school, nannies, drivers, chefs, gourmet food), she could very well end up getting $2 million a month in child support from Harry. Will that happen? Probably not, and that's her own fault because of all the PR she's done about her net worth and earning power. But it could happen.

But the TL;DR of it is that I goofed. 10 years is about alimony, not joint assets. California is a community property state so they split everything 50/50 unless they have a contract (usually a prenup), which I doubt.

And that's also why Meghan must tread carefully when it comes to Roop. She could very well end up owing Harry if it's successful and she leaves him. Not only could she owe Harry alimony or child support (if he/his lawyers can prove he's the main caretaker for the children since Meghan's working all the time - as her own PR has sometimes suggested), she could also end up being forced to give him the company entirely or having to buy out his ownership.

(Which is also something that could happen to the house. Because it's community property and belongs to both of them and probably has both of their names on the deed, someone is probably going to be buying the other one out of the house to keep it for themselves unless they put it up for sale together.)

Remember, I am not a lawyer. Everything I learned about California divorces came from Google and Celebrity Divorces.

#ask #brf #sussexes

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melancholymetropolis · 2 years

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Unholy

pairing(s): Demon!Bakugo x HumanSacrifce!Reader

synopsis: Y/N is settling a nasty divorce dispute with her soon-to-be ex. Out of the blue, he calls her to "reconcile" and "put aside their difference". Less than an hour later, she was naked, tied to a bed, and offered to a twelve-foot-tall Demon Emperor, Bakugo Katsuki.

warnings: Rivals to Lovers. mention of roofies/drink tampering. reincarnation. a dash of a slice of life. the ml + fl argue a lot. bakugo is a simp. grumpy + sunshine. lowkey a royalty au. highkey monster fucking. cat + mouse game. minor grammar errors (will clean up a little later)

w.c: 9.2k

a/n: never say I don't love y'all.

“Drink up,” my soon-to-be ex-husband said, practically pushing the glass of wine into my face.

I took the glass hesitantly and looked into it. There had been some sort of powdery residue floating on the top of it. I swirled it around a few times before setting it down on the table. I looked across the surface, past the flickering candles, and into his blue eyes. There was something off about the whole ordeal. My husband had never been the “romantic type”. He never made me dinner, even when we just started dating. He would usually order from a really expensive restaurant and call it a day. He never bothered to go the extra mile of putting on a plate, either. He made it clear that he was going to be as mediocre as possible, and I was supposed to be happy with it.

I never understood why I married him or what I saw in him originally. Maybe it was the consistency I craved or how easy it was being with him. He never challenged me in any way or stimulated me for that matter. We only slept together a handful of times in our three years together, but that didn’t bother me all too much. I was simply too busy with housework or my job to accumulate any sort of sexual desire. Yet, I could tell my spouse didn’t feel the same way. In recent months, I have noticed a change in his appearance. He started to shave more frequently, changed his hairstyle, and even bought some new clothes. He smiled whenever he got text messages and would sneak off when his phone rang. I even found a lipstick stain on his collar when doing his laundry, which all but confirmed that he was cheating.

I could deal with the lack of effort on his part.

I could deal with practically being his maid.

I could even deal with him always “borrowing” money from my savings account.

But, what I couldn’t deal with was being the “other woman” in my marriage.

I filed for divorce shortly after that and moved out of the apartment.

It had been three months since everything happened, and he still hadn’t signed the goddamned papers.

“No, thank you,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in a drinking mood.”

“O-Oh okay,” he stammered, sinking back into his chair.

“I came here because you said there had been some sort of emergency with our shared property,” I explained while pushing the plate of burnt pasta from in front of me. “It wasn’t my intention to have dinner with you.”

“I understand,” he replied, sipping his wine. “You probably still hate me.”

“I don’t care enough to hate you, John,” I said, rising from my seat. “If there is nothing else, I’ll be going now.”

“Y/N! Wait!” He called after me. “Don’t go!”

“If you have anything else to say to me, please notify my lawyer,” I deflected whilst grabbing my purse from the couch. “Have a good night.”

The alarm bells in my head were ringing, and I needed to make my way out of there quickly.

As I was turning around to take my leave, I felt a slight prick on the side of my neck. I raised my hand to the area and pressed it against it. I brought my finger to my face. There had been a clear liquid oozing from the area. I couldn’t immediately detect what it could’ve been, but I felt my body begin to sway on its own. I looked up at John, a medical syringe in his hands and a sadistic look on his face.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult, Y/N?” He said, dropping the syringe on the ground.

“W-What are y-you talking about?” I slurred, trying to grab onto the couch.

“All you had to you was drink the wine,” John admitted.

“W-Wha. . .”

“Now, I have to drag you there myself.”

My hand slipped when trying to hold onto the couch, and my entire body crashed onto the floor. The room was spinning. The sounds were coming in and out of range. I could hear John say something, but I couldn’t piece the words together. My body started to feel tingly and numb all over. I could feel John pulling against my arms, but I couldn’t tell where he was taking me. He was still ranting about something, but, again, I had no idea what he was saying. I could feel my shirt ride up a little as John dragged me against the floor. It was only when I felt a familiar fuzzy sensation that I knew where we were. In our bedroom. Even with my mind half-conscious, I knew the feeling of my thousand-dollar designer rug. Part of me was still surprised that he kept it after all this time. Yet, another part of me knew never to expect so much of John. He would never make the effort to rearrange anything in our home.

But he could make the effort to cheat on me.

My eyelids grew heavier by the second. I was struggling to keep them open.

All I could do was pray to God that whatever he had planned for me wouldn’t be too bad. I hoped that I would make it out of this apartment alive. If not, I would haunt the bastard for the rest of his miserable life.

My eyes fluttered closed, and darkness filled my vision.

“What do we have here?” A deep, throaty voice spilled into my ears. I could feel its hot breath fan my relaxed face and his eyes piercing my skin. “What a pretty little thing you are.”

I did not recognize the voice, nor would I ever. It didn’t sound human. Its pitch was far too deep, too robust for any human to make. It sounded like it belonged to something from another world or dimension. The alarm bells in my head had switched over to sirens. Every hair on my body was standing up, and I could feel sweat begin to dot my forehead. I knew, without a doubt, that there was some kind of eldrich terror on the other side of my eyelids, and I was not ready to face it. I could feel my tears well up and gather in my lashes. Murmurs spilled from my lips as I started to at the restraints binding my limbs.

“There’s no need to be afraid, little rabbit,” the monster purred. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I. . . I don’t believe you,” I whimpered, my eyes still shut.

“So she speaks,” it chuckled. “Wonderful.”

The soft surface— a bed— dipped a little on each side of me. Right near my mid-section. I could feel the heat radiating from its body. It came in slow, hot waves. It was almost like feeling the sun on your skin during the summer. It painted every inch of my skin— wait. I could feel it all over my body. From my legs and arms to my breasts and womanhood. My eyes snapped open, and I immediately looked down. I could the soft candlelight reflected onto my smooth legs. It danced up my oiled thighs and chubby stomach to my ample bosoms. I could see the brown nipples sitting pretty atop the mounds. Just inches above me was a pair of thighs, closely resembling tree trunks, straddling my waist. They were covered in tight leather pants, outlining every muscle. Just above the thighs was a pale torso with rippling abs. Far too many for me to count. Followed by a wide chest and broad shoulders. The muscles in his arms were almost the size of my thighs, and one of its hands could easily cover my entire face.

His jawline was sharp as nails, and his lips were full. He had two pairs of crimson eyes and horns. They added an extra foot to his massive stature despite being slightly curved at the base. The creature had blonde hair that pointed in every direction and mostly fell in its eyes. Under any other circumstances, I could’ve easily been swooned by his ruggedly handsome face.

“Like what you see, little rabbit?” he smirked.

“Who are you?” I asked, pulling the restraints. “What do you want with me?”

“Ah, so your husband didn’t tell you,” the creature said, resting on his heels. “How unfortunate.”

“Tell me what?” I questioned.

“He sold your soul,” it replied nonchalantly. “To me.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too,” the creature confessed. “I mean, look at you. You’re any man’s wet dream. Thick in all the right places. A seductive, deep voice—”

"What exactly are you gonna do to me?" I interjected, gripping the restraints tighter.

"Well, your husband was pretty adamant about getting rid of you," the creature replied. "He signed a death contract to get you out of this dimension."

It could’ve been his dismissive demeanor or his obvious attraction to me, but whatever fear I had previously felt was slowly melting away to make room for confusion. John had been the kind of person to hire personal chefs and cleaning staff to avoid the responsibilities of managing a house. He would have his assistant buy me anniversary presents rather than buy one himself. He was a man who went out of his way to put minimal effort into our marriage, yet he dared to sell me to a twelve-foot demon from hell. I could feel the anger pool within my being.

The creature above me inhaled deeply. "Your rage is oozing from your pores and dancing within my nostrils," he chuckled. "It has been so long since I smelled something so sweet.".

"Um, Mr. Demon?"

"Bakugo, sweetness," he corrected. "You may call me by my surname, Bakugo."

"Okay. . . Bakugo," I hesitated. "Would you mind untying me and giving me some clothes? I'm feeling pretty. . . exposed at the moment."

A deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from his throat as rose from the bed. "Your body is too precious to be covered with garments. But, since I am in a generous mood, I'll grant your request."

With the snap of his finger, I was no longer tied to the bed. My body has been positioned in the far corner of the room, furthermore from the door. I was standing up, facing the creature that was less than a foot away from me. He seemed even bigger from that angle. His horns were practically scraping the ceiling. Bakugo looked at me with such indescribable hunger that it made shivers trail down my spine. I looked down at my feet, desperately trying to break the tension between us, yet I was a little shocked by what I had on.

I wasn't wearing any of my clothes, but something a little more unique, to say the least.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged every inch of my body while highlighting the parts that were "flattering" to men. It had a deep neckline that brought attention to my cleavage. The leather fabric gave the short dress an uncomfortable stiffness. The skirt barely covered my ass and strained at the thigh section. The six-inch patent leather stilettos made my legs even longer. My wrists were covered in gold bangles, and my hands were covered in rings made of lavish stones.

"Bakugo, what is this?" I asked, inspecting the jewelry. "Why am I dressed like this?"

"As I said earlier, your husband signed a death contract," he informed me. "He used your life as collateral for the deal he made with me a little while ago."

"Why would he make a deal with you in the first place?"

"He used to clean money for the mafia a few years before he met you."

"Holy shit."

"And like the selfish idiot he was, he stole a small fortune from them."

"How much?"

"Close to fifty million."

"Holy shit!" I gasped. "Did he have a fucking death wish?"

"The mafia seemed to think so, and they actively started to hunt him," the demon continued. "As a final attempt to save his pathetic life, he summoned me. Bakugo Katsuki, Emperor of the Underworld."

At that moment, I could feel my heart drop to my stomach. Bakugo was a Samurai turned Emperor in the fourteenth century. He was appointed to the throne by Emperor Go-Daigo, who was awed by his fighting skills and his grit. The Emperor birthed no sons during his reign, so he adopted Bakugo and turned him into a crown prince. He was known to be exceedingly cruel and had a nasty temper. All kinds of stories supported these kinds of accusations. Like the one about him feeding his esquire to a tiger after he looked at the Empress a little too long. Or another about him hanging a war general by his ankles for challenging his judgment. He had the entire war counsel watch as the blood rushed to his head and ended up killing him.

Not only that, he managed to be a notorious bachelor. Rumored to have had three wives and ten concubines during his prime.

As the legend goes, the devil himself was awed by Emperor Bakugo's lavish lifestyle and offered him a position in hell once he died. The Emperor managed to work his way up the ranks, ultimately taking the Devil’s position once he retired. By the end of everything, Bakugo Katsuki was the ruler of all sin and could manipulate anyone to do his bidding. He was even more dangerous dead than he was alive.

A cocky smirk fell onto his lips as he brought his face closer to mine. "Pretty impressive, huh?" He said as if reading my mind.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"No need to be afraid of me, little rabbit," he said while tucking a braid behind my ear. "I already told you that I do not plan on harming you in any way."

"Then what do you plan on doing with me?" Fear still licking my being and making my hands shake gently.

"Allow me to finish the story, sweetness," he replied. "You'll find out by the end."

"Okay."

"I granted John temporary immunity from the mob in exchange for another life. There's a balance between these things. A life for a life, if you will," he continued. "The person has to be pure, almost incapable of sin. He encountered many girls that fit the description, but being the rotten individual he is, John managed to corrupt them. Making them greedy and money hungry just like him. That was until he met you. A wealthy physician from a rich family and lots of money in the bank. You are as sweet as pie and quite as easy on the eyes. You became his safety net. He didn't have to work too hard if he didn't want to. He never has to put any effort into the relationship since you are already too busy. It was a perfect union. Until he discovered the life insurance policy."

My eyes widened. "How did he find out about that?"

"Snooping through your mail," Bakugo shrugged. "It was then that you became more valuable dead than alive."

"So, a couple of million, and he's willing to put me on the chopping block?"

"Not at first," the demon responded. "But you decided to divorce him, completely stripping any chance he would’ve had to obtain that money. Since you two signed a prenuptial agreement with an infidelity clause, John was entitled to none of your money at the very end."

Anger started to rise in my being once more. The sheer amount of entitlement he had was simply outstanding. He was the one who cheated. He was the one who emotionally checked out the marriage first. Yet, instead of acknowledging his mistake and moving forward, he went under the table to try and get me killed.

"That fucking bastard!" I said aloud, balling my fists so tight my knuckles turned white.

"Yeah," Bakugo replied. "Your husband's a real peach."

"So the death contract," I stated, beginning to piece it together. "He signed it to repay the debt he owed to you and to get the money in my insurance policy?"

"Bingo!"

"This greedy motherfucker!" I growled. "I cannot believe him!"

"Truly a greedy bastard," Bakugo agreed, nodding his head.

I paused. "Wait. But what does that mean for me? Are you saying you're going to kill me?"

A wide smile appeared on Bakugo's face. "Not quite. Maybe even the opposite, if you think about it."

"I'm confused."

"I'm going to make you my Empress, little rabbit."

Bakugo’s dimension was surprisingly tame for being an extension of hell. It had a bright pink sky and crimson mountains lining the outside perimeter of the area. On the far edge of a secluded village was his castle. From my minimal knowledge of Japanese history, it was loosely inspired by the Bitchu Matsuyama Castle— the one that Bakugo most likely lived in when he was alive. The ceilings were taller than the original, probably to accommodate the Emperor’s height. There were pillars made of gold and jade lining the room. The floor was made of hardwood, so clean you could see your reflection. The walls are made of watercolor paintings and gold patterns. Silk drapes hung from the ceiling in a decorative pattern, adding more color to the space. Beautiful women of all shades and sizes lingered in the halls, giggling with one another. They stopped once we made eye contact. They quickly bowed their head and moved out of my way.

The guards, Iida Tenya and Sato Rikido, had given me a tour of the grounds before bringing me to the Empress’ estate on the far end of the property. It was made up of a massive house with about four floors. It was filled with lavish gifts and treasures. From tiger skin rugs to a solid gold statue of Bakugo in the middle of the front room. There had been diamonds and rubies spilling from fountains. Jewelry was littered all over my room. My closet was overflowing with the softest silks and chiffons ever made.

“This is simply too much,” I said, lifting a diamond-crusted bracelet from the bed. “I can not accept all of this.”

“Would you like me to summon Emperor Bakugo, Empress?” Iida asked.

“Well. . . No, that won’t be necessary,” I sighed, taking a seat on the bed. “I will be meeting him for dinner in a few hours, yes?”

“You will, Empress,” Sato replied. “It is customary for the Emperor and the Empress to share meals.”

“Alright, I’ll just talk to him then,” I reassured them before flopping down. “For now, I would like to rest. If there is nothing else, you two may go.”

The guards bowed their heads and excited the room.

I lifted a stray piece of jewelry from the bed and brought it to my eyes. It was a heavy gold chain with a massive emerald pendant in the center. It had to at least be worth a few hundred thousand, yet it was half-heartedly thrown on my bed and tangled with other pieces of similar value. I wasn’t a stranger to wealth. My family came from a long line of professionals, from doctors to politicians. I have had family members with exclusive Cartier pieces and Tiffany jewelry fit for royalty. Yet, when looking at the items on my bed, they didn’t have the same aura as those. It didn’t feel like I was meant to brag about these necklaces and rings. It wasn’t my responsibility to make everyone around me jealous. I was simply supposed to exist whilst wearing the pieces. They were meant to be extensions of myself. An extension of my aura— of my power.

I rose from my slumped position on the bed and walked to the vanity. I brought the necklace to my neck and gazed at my reflection. The gold and the green complimented my bronze skin very well. I undid the clasp in the back and positioned the necklace against my collarbone. I attempted to fasten it, but my braids kept getting in the way.

“Allow me,” said a familiar voice.

I looked over to see the Emperor, resting in the door frame. He changed his attire; it had been a little more Regal than before. He wore silk pants, perfectly tailored to his body. They highlighted his slender waist and plump rear. He remained shirtless but had a decorative robe draped over his shoulders. It swayed as he walked over to me. His hands were adorned with rings, almost like mine, except they didn’t have large jewels. They were simple gold bands.

Emperor Bakugo scooped all my hair to my left shoulder before closing the clasp on the necklace. “It looks good on you,” he said, still gripping my shoulders.

I brushed my hands against the pendant and hummed softly. “I guess it does.”

We sat in silence for just a few moments before I felt his hands drop from my shoulder and snake around my waist. He pulled me closer to his massive body. I could feel the heat radiating from his body and the sweet aroma he carried. He smelled of citrus and cherry blossoms with a hint of spice. It was a scent that brought calm to my being. I found myself leaning into the embrace, intertwining my fingers with his. It was nice to be held like that. Without any ulterior motives or sexual advances, Just to be held by someone who cares for you.

“Have you started to remember, my love?” His voice was low enough to be a whisper.

I locked eyes with him through the mirror. “Remember? What do you mean?”

A painful look flashed on Bakugo’s face before he quickly shook it away. “Forget it.”

“No,” I murmured, turning to face him. “Just tell me. Is there something you wanted me to remember? Is it about John?”

The emperor took a deep breath before pulling me closer to his body. “The walls in this place often have ears attached to them. Let’s go somewhere to be truly alone.”

“Okay.”

Red smoke started to appear at our feet before circling up our legs and abdomens. It engulfed our bodies, breathing pulling us into darkness as it did. I could feel cold winds swirling around me as he moved from one place to another. The sweet smell of my bedroom was soon replaced with the stench of stale air and rotting wood. My bare feet were no longer pressed against warm hardwood; instead, I could feel the cool tile sending shivers through my body. When the smoke cleared, we were not only in a different place, but it felt like a different dimension. It was neither Earth nor Hell, maybe space between the two. It didn’t have the heaviness of the surface, the summer breeze, or twinkling stars. Nor did it have the robustness of hell; it didn’t have the pink sky or the black mountains lining the perimeter. Instead, everything was black and white. Almost like films in the early 1930s. The property that Bakugo transported us to was in pristine condition, despite a few cracks along the ceiling. The furniture was covered in sheets, and the windows had pale drapes blocking out the light from outside. Faded watercolor paintings decorated the doors. Jade stone pillars were supporting the high ceiling. In many ways, it looked almost identical to Bakugo’s mansion back in hell, just less lavish.

“What is this place?” I asked, gently touching the stone pillar.

“This was the palace of the first Empress, Kimiko,” he said with a sigh. “My first and only love.”

“Oh.”

Bakugo smiled softly before abruptly snapping his fingers. Warm light illuminated the front room, adding a little bit of color around us. The emperor walked over to the very back of the room, directly in front of a massive piece of furniture. He reached down and pulled the sheet from atop it, revealing a glistening throne. It was carved out of obsidian, a shiny black crystal— which just so happened to ward off evil and negative emotions. It had gold trimming along the edges and large rubies embedded within the armrests. The base was large enough to seat more than one person, which made me wonder if Bakugo spent some time ruling by her side.

The emperor gently caressed one of the armrests while smiling sadly to himself.

“She was the only one to ever beat me in a fight,” he chuckled. “She laid me flat on my ass before I could even form a proper sentence. I think I started to fall in love with her then.”

“She sounds delightful,” I offered, standing beside him.

“She was,” he reminisced. “She had a temper similar to mine but only unleashed it when it was necessary. She could tame any dragon or beast with a few words. Kimiko handled herself with such poise and grace that even her enemies had to respect her. She was never the type to ask for dominance because people simply gave it to her.”

“What. . . happened to her?” I hesitated.

“She had what you humans now call “cancer”,” he answered, sadly. “It was the only foe she couldn’t best.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered, placing my hand on his arm.

The twelve-foot demon turned his body away from the throne and took both my hands in his. He looked into my eyes as if he were looking at me for the very first time. Bakugo scanned my entire face, searching for something that I could put my finger on. “I believe you are Kimiko reincarnated, Y/N.”

My eyes widen and I took a step back from him. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Just before she died, Kimiko and I made a blood oath,” he said, unfastening his silk pants. Bakugo lowered the waistband, just a little bit, to reveal a jagged scar; in the shape of a ‘k’. “We vowed to find each other in the next life, with the help of these marks. I have searched many women throughout the five hundred years I have been alive and only one has the letter ‘k’ etched on her waist. And that person is you, Y/N.”

“Bakugo, I don’t think—”

“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” he interjected. “I mean you two look nothing alike. But the longer I have been in your company, the more I could feel this undeniable connection between us. And I know you feel it, too.”

“Bakugo—”

“There is a reason why aren’t scared of me and why came you to the Underworld so willingly.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice!” I countered. “John signed the death contract!”

“Y/N, I know this is hard to believe and I would be a complete idiot to think you’d accept this right away—”

“I didn’t think demons existed several hours ago!” I screamed, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was to divorce my shit husband and go back to my normal life as a surgeon. Not get remarried to a literal ruler of Hell and become an Empress! I didn’t even have the time to deal with the mess John put me in, before being thrown into yet another role I did not ask for. I mean for fuck’s sake, could you have at least given me the remainder of the night to process what happened before springing this on me?! What else do you have under your sleeve? Are going to tell me you have powers or something?”

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“You’re hair is on fire.”

As much as I wanted to deny my connection to Bakugo’s late wife, more and more evidence started to unravel. From what the maids had told me, the emerald chain that the emperor fastened on my neck was Kimiko’s family heirloom. It was passed down for generations to the first-born daughter of the family. However, since Kimiko died childless, Bakugo decided to keep it to himself. I had tried to take it off, discard it from my sight, but the clasp refused to budge. None of my maids could undo it and I wasn’t in the mood to face Bakugo after that night. I was stuck with the necklace on for the remainder of the week, forced to face my reality. Another quirk that came with this reincarnation scandal was the fire. It appears everywhere when I was angry. It started out with my hair, causing it to spike up and lift from my neck. The angrier I get the more the flames engulf my body. It doesn’t hurt, nor does it partially bother me. Almost everything in the Underworld was flame resistant, meaning there was nothing to really worry about.

The maids informed me that Kimiko had fierce red hair, resembling a raging fire. It was part of the reason why many feared her in the first place. Given the dimension and the reincarnation drama, I assumed the lore surrounding her life started to literally manifest the longer I stayed in the underworld. Like when the emperor tried to enter my room without my permission and I managed to toss him across the room in the blink of an eye. We were both shocked by the end of it.

But, he made sure to leave me alone after that.

There were whispers outside my door. A conversation between a very squeaky, feminine voice and a booming masculine one.

I rolled my eyes.

He does it every afternoon— knocking on my door after his morning meetings, in hopes I would invite him in to talk.

The maids knew never to let him and Bakugo knew never to force himself where he didn’t belong. Unless he wanted to be humbled in front of his subjects.

The door opened and one of the servants hurried inside the room. She bowed her head as she stood in front of my bed.

“Do I have permission to speak, Your Grace?” She squeaked.

“Of course,” I replied, repositioning the pillow underneath my head.

“The Emperor has requested you meet him for dinner,” she presented, still looking at the floor.

“Tell him to fuck off,” I said, turning my back to her. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“He brought you a gift,” she started to say before I cut her off.

“I don’t need any more jewelry,” I countered. “I can’t even store the pieces I have.”

“No jewelry, but a person. By the name of John.”

I snapped my eyes open and sat straight up in the bed. “Wait does that mean. . . John’s dead?”

“He said if you have any questions, to ask him at dinner tonight,” the servant replied.

“Fine, tell him I will be in attendance,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest. “But, inform him that I will not be staying for long.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” The servant bowed again before leaving the room.

Several new maids entered the space shortly after, their heads lowered and eyes looking towards the ground.

“May I help you?” I asked, kicking my legs over the side of the bed.

“We’ve been instructed by the emperor to assist in dressing for dinner,” the woman on the right said, crossing her hands over her midsection.

“He instructed that we place you in traditional empress attire,” the one on the left added.

Emperor Bakugo Katsuki was pushing me into a corner. He wanted me to conform to the role of Empress, even though I would rather walk through the fiery bits of hell naked. I spent the majority of the last week in my room. I only opened the door to get my food trays and greet my servants in the morning. I refused to meet anyone from the royal council or any associate of Bakugo’s. The emperor wanted me to step into my role as Empress so badly that he was willing to try anything— even drag John to the underworld to make it happen.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I countered, walking across the room to the bathroom. “I am capable of dressing myself.”

“But, Your Majesty—”

“If the Emperor has a problem with my decision, tell him he could eat alone for all I care.”

The servants did end up helping me, just not with my outfit. They helped dry my waist-length braids with smaller towels. They divided each braid and applied moose to them. The maid twisted them around flexi-rods and wrapped my head with a silk scarf. Next, we surveyed the makeup that Bakugo had gifted me before I arrived. The blushes and eyeshadows were made up of cool tones, which weren’t complementary to my bronze skin tone. Out of all the blues and purples that were provided, I was able to find muted earth tones in the pile. A collection of browns and metallic shimmers. I decided to make a smoky eye with these shades, with a cut crease. I used gold to fill in the gap to really make my eyelid pop.

“You should wear red lipstick!” The servant on the left— Yua— said, sliding the red lip across the vanity. “It would be a nice pop of color!”

“I don’t know. . .” The other one— Aika— replied. “The red may be a little too bright. She should go with something a little more neutral. Like a brown!”

Yua snatched the tube of lipstick from her hand. “You don’t know anything about beauty products! Red would be better for Your Majesty’s lips.”

“I disagree,” Aika snatched the red tube from her partner’s hand. “The red would be too distracting. Brown would fit the theme a little better.”

“No, you’re wrong—”

“I was planning on using both of them actually,” I said, turning to look at the younger women.

“Really?” They asked in unison. “How?”

I held out my hand and they gave me the tubes. I popped the cap off of the deep brown lipstick and brought my thin, damp brush to it. I rubbed it against the smooth surface, before bringing the brush to my lips. I outlined the shape of my mouth with a dark color, before placing the cap on the tube. I used a thicker brush to swatch on the red lipstick, but only used a little bit of it on my lips. I topped the section with a clear lip gloss and started to rub my lips together, blending the two lipsticks perfectly.

“Wow!” Yua said, amazed. “I would’ve never thought of that!”

“Me neither!” Aika agreed. “It looks so good. Your Majesty is the queen of cosmetics!”

I laughed loudly and rose from my seat. “You give me too much praise. I can assure you there are many women better than me at makeup. I only know how to do simple things.”

“Well, you make simple look good,” Aika chimed in.

“You do!”

I laughed and walked over to the closet. I looked through the hundreds of pieces that were filling the space. Although the pieces were absolutely stunning and very much my style, none of the clothes were big enough to fit me. Except for the floor-length robes in the back of the closet. Granted, they were made with the finest silks of all the land, but they did nothing to compliment my figure. They would completely cover me with unnecessary fabric, making me look even bigger than I actually was. I immediately thought back to the night in the bedroom, where Bakugo made clothes appear on my body out of thin air. Even though I had only been in the Underworld for a week, I was already showing signs of magical abilities. I wondered if the physical manifestation of items was a trait that only the emperor could have, or if was I capable of doing it as well.

I pulled out a random item of clothing from the closet. An all-leather catsuit with a zipper in the center front. There had been a pair of cat ears and a fluffy tail butt plug attached to the hanger.

“These two must’ve been into some seriously kinky stuff,” I said, lifting the tail of the hanger and dangling it in the air.

“Emperor Bakugo talks about Kimiko whipping him all the time— ow!” Yua screeched and hugged her side.

Aika swiftly shook her head a placed a finger on her lips.

I tossed the sex toy to the side and took the item of clothing into my hands. I closed my eyes and simply pictured it on my body. I focused on how I wanted it to fit— how I wanted it to hug my curves, but allow just enough room for me to move comfortably. I could feel my body gradually heat up. The silk robe I had been wearing had slowly begun to slip off, fading out of existence. It was swiftly replaced with a thicker, tiger fabric. It hugged my hips and thighs tightly, while loosely fitting around my tummy. The silk scarf started to slip from my head and my braids untangled from the curlers. I could feel them fall to my back.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room. I was wearing the catsuit and it fit just as perfectly as I imagined. But, traditional Japanese rode and graced my shoulders. I didn’t know how the two got paired together, but given the state of the outfit, I was not upset at the combination. I was standing in front of massive paper doors, and by the sound of Bakugo’s booming voice, I had to be outside of the throne room.

“Come in, my Empress,” he yelled from the other side of the door. “I have been expecting you.”

Hesitantly, I gripped the handle and slid it open. There had been a slew of upper-rank nobility within the space. Every one of them had a different appearance. Some had horns, while others were covered in scales. Some had pointed ears and a long tail, while others appeared to me more human with black eyes. But, no matter what they looked like, they all openly gawked at me.

“I hope you don’t mind, darling,” Bakugo said with a smirk. “I simply couldn’t wait until dinner time, so I summoned you a little bit earlier than we planned.”

I neutralized any raging emotions that threatened to rise and took a deep breath. I looked at the nobles and gave them a curt nod. “My apologies for having met you in such imprudent circumstances, I was a little under the weather this week.”

“It is no problem at all, Your Majesty,” a loud voice replied from the far end of the room. “We are just happy to be in your presence.”

“Oh you are too, kind the gentleman whose face I cannot see!” I said bowing my head slightly. “I hope to meet you very soon and become good acquaintances.”

I walked down the designated aisle and up the few steps to where Bakugo was seated. I raised my eyebrow, silently asking ‘where am I supposed to sit?”

“Because of such an impromptu schedule change, you just might have to sit on my lap for the meeting,” Bakugo chuckled while patting the area. “I’m sure it will be more comfortable than any chair you have ever sat on.”

He was pushing my buttons and it was working. I wanted nothing more than to not see the smug look right off his face. But, I knew that would only result in more problems. An idea popped into my mind, making a slight smile fall onto my lips.

I turn my back to the twelve-foot demon and press my ass right on his lap. I push my hips backward; I could feel my lower cheeks brush right against his crotch. Bakugo’s hands immediately sunk into my thighs and helped me spin around so that I was sitting sideways. I wiggled my thighs, under the ruse of getting my comfort, and rubbed against his member once again. That time the mighty emperor sucked in a breath.

“You are playing with fire, Empress,” Bakugo whispered, digging his fingers deeper into my thighs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emperor,” I murmured, innocently.

Every noble in the room had started the meeting by introducing themselves and their stations. Like Izuku Midorya, chief of defense and weapons. Or Todoroki Shoto chief of merchants and foreign goods. Those two were particularly nice and even kissed my hand upon greeting me. Izuku even winked at me when he pulled away, which made a blush erupt on my face. Bakugo growled silently beneath me, but he didn’t say anything. I decided to drive the knife even deeper into the growing wound.

“I look forward to getting to know you, Midorya,” I said sweetly. “Maybe we could have tea sometime soon?”

“It would be my honor, my Empress,” he replied, placing a hand over his heart. “I will be waiting for your invitation.”

“You are too kind,” I cooed, tucking a braid behind my ear. “I have a feeling you’ll make a lovely acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance? You’re breaking my heart, dear Empress,” he professed. “I was hoping to be your dear friend, at least.”

I placed my hand on my mouth and turned away. “Holy cow! He has me blushing like a teenager,” I whispered to myself, hoping that Bakugo would. “I’m gonna have some fun with him.”

“Enough!” The Emperor yelled, startling the entire court. “This meeting is over! The Empress and I have another engagement to tend to. The introductions will resume at a later date.”

“Farewell to all!” I said, rising from Bakugo’s lap. “It was nice seeing all of your beautiful and unique faces! I hope to become great friends with all of you!”

“Farewell, Empress,” someone called from the far side of the room. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye, for now, Your Majesty,” another said. “I will miss gazing upon your immense beauty!”

“Oh, you are just humoring me,” I replied, smiling widely. “I will be back soon. I promise.”

“We miss you already!” Someone else yelled.

“Come to our next meeting!”

“We want to see you every day!”

Red smoke appeared beneath my feet and started twirling up my body. I closed my eyes and attempted to feel the magic encasing my body. I wanted to remember what it felt like, just in case I was given the opportunity to replicate it. Although the palace was nice and I liked the Empress's treatment, I still wanted to go home. Back to where everything was normal. Back to where I could be myself and not a reincarnated soul. The wind started to pick up around us, adding a particular chill down my spine. We were not covered in darkness, but an immense light. It was warm, almost like candlelight. Even the floors were particularly warm and inviting. I opened my eyes to see that we were back in the Empress’ palace. But, unlike before, it was restored. No longer cold and damp, but comfortable and homie. The sheets no longer covered the furniture and the doors looked freshly painted. Even the throne seemed to be dusted and polished; shining even brighter than before. Fresh rose petals were scattered throughout the room, as the soft sound of violins played in the background.

Romantic was hardly a good word to describe the atmosphere. It was more than that. It oozed passion and poise. It was elegant, as it was refreshing. I could feel some of my stress drip away and my heart warm. I looked back at the towering Emperor, his face still turned up in a scowl and his lips pursed.

“You did this for me?” I asked, taking his hand into mine.

“So what if I did?” He snapped back. “You’re just gonna find a reason to be mad at me anyway.”

A gentle smile fell on my lips, as I felt my body suddenly lift from the ground. Once we were on the same level, I took his face into my hands and looked him in the eye. His crimson eyes began to fade into a bright red the longer he looked at me. His grimace faded into a cocky smirk as he brought his hand to my chin.

“Are gonna kiss me or what?” He teased.

“I’m starting to think you don’t deserve one,” I admitted, bringing my face closer to his. “After that little stunt, you pulled earlier. Forcing me to meet the nobles. You ain’t slick, demon.”

“You enjoyed it,” Bakugo cackled. “Having dozens of men fawning over you. You were gushing and blushing the whole time. You love being the center of attention.”

I draped my arms over his shoulders and hummed softly. “I don’t recall this ‘gushing’ you speak of. But, I did blush a few times. That Izuku fellow is quite the charmer.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a crush on the brat,” he said, placing his hands on my waist. He pulled me closer to him; our chests pressed together and our limbs began to intertwine. “Who knows? You’ll probably run away with him the minute I turn my back.”

“Are you jealous, Emperor?” I chirped, my smile getting wider. “Jealous of a mere chief?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he chuckled. “You are just a royal pain in my ass and so is he. In fact, you two would be perfect together.”

“Maybe I should run away with him,” I joked, gently slipping out of his arms. “He’ll probably treat me better anyway.”

“Come back here, Empress,” he called, taking my wrist and drawing me back to his chest. “Who said I’d let you get away?”

My heart was beating in my chest, so loud it was clouding my thoughts. The heat was radiating from his body and pooling around mine. The look he had in his eye was nothing short of lust and longing. He wanted me. Emperor Bakugo Katsuki of the Underworld wanted me. And I was beginning to want him too. The chemistry between us was undeniable. The longer we stood next to one another, the harder it was to resist each other. The way his hands gripped my hips was sending all kinds of signals to my womanhood. I wanted his hands to touch every inch of my body, along with his mouth. His lips seemed all that more inviting the closer we were. Just a few hours ago, I wanted nothing but to knock him on his ass. Again. But, now, I wanted to do unholy things with the demon before me.

Before I could think, I pressed my lips against his. I could feel him tense up for a second, before melting into the embrace. His strong arms wrapped around my smaller body and pressed me against a nearby wall. His moans filled the room as his hands kneaded the soft flesh of my rear. The emperor moved the kisses along the side of my face. Kissing along my jaw and against my neck. He sucked and nipped the soft tissue, making my toes curl in response. I pressed my nails into his bare back. Bakugo took his freakishly long tongue and dragged it along the side of my neck and jaw; bringing his mouth right back to mine. He kissed me passionately once more before pulling away.

“I want you,” He purred. His eyes were drilling into my mine. “I’ve wanted you since the night that asshole stripped you naked and tied you to the bed. But, I wanted to wait. I needed you to want me just as much as I wanted you.”

Although it was the bare minimum, the small action proved one great thing: Bakugo may be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster. He respected my agency and didn’t push my boundaries all that much. He could’ve forced himself on me and no one would’ve batted an eye since he was the Emperor. Instead, he let me mourn for my old life in a luxurious room and send me my favorite foods to liven up my mood. Underneath his intimidating size and appearance, he was a really good guy. Or, demon.

“Tell me, Empress,” he said, between kisses. “Tell me you want me, too.”

“I do.”

The emperor lifted me from the wall and walked deeper into the palace. His lips and hands never left my body. He was all over. Kissing my neck, palming my rear, and unzipping my hands. Bakugo was smothering me in affection and I was simply getting drunk off of it. It felt like there had been more than two hands on my body. And, when he placed me on the bed, I realized that there were. Bakugo had grown an extra pair of arms, directly below his previous ones. They were the same length and size, basically identical. But, that wasn’t the only thing added to his appearance. He had tattoos covering his arms and chest. A massive serpent tattoo traveled up his first set of arms, while the heads were displayed on his chest. The other pair of arms paled a little in comparison. There had been a few Japanese words written in kanji on his forearms, while the tips of his fingers looked to be tattooed a deep black. Resembling them being dipped into ink. He had piercings on his nipples and tongue, in addition to the many on his ears. Bakugo, somehow, managed to make himself look even hotter than before; a talent I didn’t know he had.

“I was planning on keeping the glamor up until after we had— you know,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “But, it was getting a little tiring maintaining it. We can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No!” I said a little too quickly. “This is good. Really good.”

The cocky smirk returned to his lips. “Ah, so you prefer my Demon form over the other one? How interesting.” He leaned closer, allowing his body to hover over mine. One of his hands started to pull at the zipper of the catsuit, while another gently pulled out a breast from behind the cloth. “You are almost making it harder to resist fucking you right here and right now.”

His massive tongue rolled out of his mouth. He lowered his head but kept his eyes on me. Bakugo wrapped the tip of the tongue around my exposed nipple. The foreign sensation made my body shiver. I felt myself arching into his mouth. I wanted more. As if reading my mind, Bakugo lowered his hot mouth onto the bud. He sucked him tenderly, moving his head up and down as he went. I brought my finger to my head and dug them into his hair. My moans filled the room as my body shook with anticipation. His thick fingers inched down my navel and into my waist band. He slid them under my panties and over my sex, before dipping them into my folds.

“I barely even touched you and you are already so wet for me,” he purred, circling my clit slowly. “My Empress, you are so easy to please.”

“Please stop toying with me,” I groaned, moving my hips against his hand. “It’s been so long since I. . . and John wasn’t all that good at it anyway.”

He grimaced at the name. “Let’s not even mention his name.” Bakugo’s fingers slid further down my womanhood and gently pushed into my entrance. “We’ll deal with him at a later time. Let’s just focus on this. Me toying with this tight, sticky pussy of yours.”

He pushed his fingers even deeper and pressed the pads on the roof of my cunt. I gasped loudly and took hold of his robe. Curses spilled from my lips as his digits pumped in and out of me at a beautiful speed. His fingertips were gently massaging my growing g-spot and my walls continued to ooze as a result. Another one of his hands dipped into the waistband. His index and middle finger rested on either side of my clit, while his thumb gently stroked it. Pleasurable sensations were erupting all over my body. My hips were moving on their own, constantly rubbing against his hands, wanting to feel everything. I could feel the pleasure build in the pit of my stomach. My walls started to clench his walls for longer periods the more he fingered my cunt. Suddenly, without warning, Bakugo added a third finger to the mix. Pushing into my slick hole and making me squeal in surprise. There was an interesting burn erupting within my walls.

I pulled on his robe once again, forcing his lips onto mine. Our tongues twirled and danced in each other’s mouths. Eventually, they even fought for dominance. It was then that I felt his fingers move even faster, practically hammering my g-spot. The sheer force of his thrusts moved my lower half on the bed. My hands fell from his robe and my face turned away from his. Deep, throaty pants escaped my throat as the orgasm made a swift appearance. My legs began to tremble as my thighs clenched Bakugo’s hands. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my mouth formed a massive 'o' shape. Liquid shot from my tender center and sprayed all over the silk sheets.

"Oh…. Fuuuuuck….." I slurred, grinding my hips on his digits.

The emperor maintained his treacherous movements, making the peak last even longer. He didn't stop until my body stopped shaking against his arms. But, by then, my slick coated his palms and was creating quite the wet spot underneath my ass. He slipped his fingers out. They wrinkled from the activity— my juices were stringy around the digits and made them rather sticky.

The emperor smiled. "I can already tell that pussy is gonna be the death of me," he said, slipping the fingers into his mouth. He moaned at the taste. "You even taste sweet."

I allowed my back to crash against the bed and kept my eyes trained on the ceiling as I caught my breath. "Holy shit," I said in disbelief. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard before."

His hot mouth pressed hot kisses against my breasts, up my neck, and finally to my lips. He fondled my nipple as his tongue explored my mouth for the millionth time tonight. When he pulled away, Emperor Bakugo had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Don't get too comfortable," he chirped.

With a snap of his finger, the remaining clothes on our bodies vanished into thin air. Leaving us both stark naked. And, just like his arms, Bakugo had two members. Both are thick, girthy, and rippled with veins. They were approximately the size of my forearm. Pre-cum made their tips bright and shiny. The longer I looked at them, the more I wanted to touch them. Taste them. Fill my cunt with them. Surely, I wasn’t prepared to take them both at the same time. Anal was something I truly never tried and didn't feel the need to. However, I was pretty sure there were positions to accommodate both members.

"We are just getting started."

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a/n: The full scene is posted on my Ko-fi page. This piece was literally seventeen pages, single-spaced. Meaning it was 13k words in total. Only y'all can get this outta me because I would have NEVER done this for myself lol

Lemme know if y'all like longer fics versus the standard (which is about three 2k-3k).

Vote for the next piece by commenting on this post, Ko-Fi, or you could send me a pm /ask!

We have:

Dhampir(Half Vampire/Half Human) Shoto x Reader----> y/n finds his coffin in her new house (roommate au)

BullHydrid!AllSmite x Reader---> She inherits a farm from her family and All Smite is the mean/rude farm hand (enemies to lovers)

Ghost!Aizawa x reader---> a long-haired ghost lives in y/n's closet and occasionally steals the pillows off her bed.

pls pls pls comment! I love to hear your thoughts and feedback. And lemme know if y'all want a part two!

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