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kissesinthekitchen · 4 years

Text

Yours

Prompt: The one where a flirty waitress oversteps her boundaries and you want to remind Harry who he belongs to.

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Smut and fluff. Jealousy. Sex in public. Word count: 5,565. Rated mature.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Mine! In my head, this is sort of a sequel, but you don’t need to have read the first story to understand it. Jealous!reader was a lot of fun to write this time. I would really appreciate any love or feedback. Hope you like this! x

The guilty look on Harry’s face that greets you when you return from the bathroom is all you need to know.

“What?” you ask him, as you place your purse down and scoot back into the booth to be close to him again.

You spot the folded piece of paper sitting in front of him and swallow hard. You have a feeling you already know what it is. You pluck the piece of paper off the table and watch the digits of a phone number unfold slowly between your hands.

“Oh, this bitch-” you say, already trying to rise from the seat to find her face from between the other diners.

“Y/N,” Harry says, and his voice sounds like a gravely warning. His hand is gripping your wrist already. “Baby. Sit down.”

Your blood is boiling. You feel something akin to wanting to slap her and wanting to close the distance between you and Harry by straddling his lap right now, like some kind of animal holding down its mate - something, anything - to prove he’s yours. Something that says he’s mine.

-----

Harry always treats food like a peace offering.

Once, when you had a conference to attend out of state on your birthday, he paid for a buffet of Mexican food to be catered and sent to the hotel you and some of your friends from the department were staying at. Complete with a birthday cake, so you knew he was thinking of you. And another time, when he was in France working on something for Gucci and you couldn’t get off work to join him because of a bunch of parent-teacher meetings, he had an extravagant box of French macarons and pink tulips shipped overnight from Paris just so he could Facetime you from the same cafe later, so it could be like you were there together. When you’re upset, when you miss him, when you want to reconnect, it’s always either in bed or over a good meal.

Today, he had chosen a sunlit fancy Italian bistro with high ceilings, and green ivy plants and glass chandeliers clinging to each other for decoration. White and brick red speckled walls. Harry had squeezed your hand as a host led you to a booth towards the back of the restaurant.

The food they serve tastes as good as it looks. Crunchy bruschetta with sweet basil and tomatoes. Soft pillows of warm gnocchi served over roasted butternut squash and crispy fried herbs and salty pancetta. For entrees, you’d ordered a zesty lemon chicken piccata with capers, while Harry ordered a delicious eggplant parmesan. And together, you’d decided to share an order of linguine with clams - just because you couldn’t help yourself. Harry loves food, but more than that, he loves seeing how much you love food. If anyone asks, he’d probably say that your love language is trying new restaurants together.

And yet, while the food and the ambiance - there’s nothing like watching Harry’s face over candlelight- had been amazing, you’re sure this has still probably got to be one of the worst meals you’ve ever had.

This is confirmed later. If the guilty look on Harry’s face that greets you when you return from the bathroom is all you need to know.

“What?” you ask him, as you place your purse down and scoot back into the booth to be close to him again.

You spot the folded piece of paper sitting in front of him and swallow hard. You have a feeling you already know what it is.

Harry is resting his face in the palm of his hand. Loose curls framing his face, the top buttons of his black shirt unbuttoned beneath a soft velvet jacket of the same color. He looks relaxed, if not, a little amused.

You pluck the piece of paper off the table and watch the digits of a phone number unfold slowly between your hands.

“Oh, this bitch-” you say, already trying to rise from the seat to find her face from between the other diners.

“Y/N,” Harry says, and his voice sounds like a gravely warning. His hand is gripping your wrist already. “Baby. Sit down.”

It’s been more than an hour of this. The waitress offering Harry one sided conversation and squeezing his bicep and biting her lip and treating you like you’re fucking invisible. You feel like you already know too much about her.

Her name is Giselle because of course it is. Her sweeping blonde hair cascades down over her shoulders in a way that makes you feel a pang in your chest because - and you’ll never say this outloud but- she reminds you of a model, reminds you of so many of Harry’s exes. The women who used to rent space in his head and in his bed.The women he loved and wrote songs about before he met you.

You can’t help but flinch and grit your teeth every time she tries to make a move on Harry. She declares that she always wanted to study abroad in London. She saw One Direction three times when they were together. She licks her lips and asks Harry if he needs help finding places to go or stay while he’s in town, in a voice that makes you feel like she means her bed. And she frowns when Harry tries to bring you into the conversation, you’re like ninety-nine percent sure she scoffed when he said you were a teacher. The audacity of it all.

It’s not that you’re surprised. Harry is well, Harry. You’re used to sharing him with most of the world. He’s got the biggest heart you know, and he’s a huge flirt. Women are drawn to him like mosquitos are to blood. But you never thought you’d have to deal with another girl on the night you’re supposed to be celebrating your engagement. Maybe Harry was right to have tried to persuade you to stay home, in bed with takeout- that would have required much less sulking.

To his credit, Harry brushes her off, but he’s still entirely too polite. When she places a hand on his shoulder to give him the wine menu, he gives her a solemn nod. When she cups his hands in hers and throws a wink over her shoulder as she walks away, he politely wrenches his hand away and throws her back a look that is something caught between a frown and a smile as he meets your eyes.

“She really did it.”

“Darling-” he starts.

“She really fucking did it.” you say, appalled and irritated. Your blood is boiling. You feel something akin to wanting to slap her and wanting to close the distance between you and Harry by straddling his lap right now, like some kind of animal holding down its mate - something, anything - to prove he’s yours. Something that says he’s mine.

“You’re jealous,” Harry says.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you say quickly. The brightness in his eyes seems to grow at your quip, and you almost feel like slapping him now.

“Oh baby,” he says, his arm reaching around to cling to the part of the booth that is behind your neck.

“What can I do baby? How can I make it better?” he chuckles in your ear, when you cross your arms around your chest and let out a frustrated huff like an irritated child. “How can I turn this frown upside down?” His fingers graze the spot where your eyebrows have pinched together.

You wring the napkin in your hands. “Oh fuck off, Harry-“

“M’serious love,” but there is amusement in his face and you feel like elbowing him in the chest right now. “How do I show you that you don’t have any reason to be jealous?”

A moment passes, your nails are tapping impatiently against the throat of your wine glass before you hear Harry’s low voice tell you to look at him.

“Should I fuck you here?” he raises an eyebrow, his grip on you tightening. The broadness of his back moving so he’s blocking you from view. “Would that show you, sweetheart?”

“Stop making fun of me.”

He moves closer. “M’I’m not. Promise. Bit cute, actually. Seein’ you get all riled up.” He flashes you a heated look, the kind he usually saves for when you’re behind closed doors and his voice sounds choked. “Kind of makes my cock hard, if I’m bein’ honest. Seein’ you so jealous.”

“Harry,” you try to chastise him, but your voice just sounds just as broken. “Someone could see-” You know you aren’t the only one who spotted at least two or three photographers outside when you walked in here.

He makes a gesture of sweeping the room with his eyes. “Everyone’s eatin.’ No one’s payin’ attention to us. ‘Sides. Noticed you didn’t say no...”

“Baby-” you try to halt him as he reaches for you then. His eyes holding your wide gaze as his hand lifts the end of your dress.

“Tell me that if I slide my hand up, I won’t find you wet already?”

“Harry,” you croak, your voice shaking. Your fingers stop on his wrist and his eyes still.

A beat passes before you admit - “Harry, I’m soaked.”

Harry watches the way your nervous demeanor melts into a grin before he grabs you.

“Fuckin’ hell. Come here, you minx,” he closes the inch of distance between you to kiss you hard, his tongue swiping against yours. Your hands grasp his face before winding around his neck.

Your teeth dig into his jacket, in the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, to muffle your moaning when you feel him dip two of his fingers inside of you.

He groans. “Are you gonna come for me, honey? Fuck. Gonna come all over my fingers in front of everyone?” That makes you gasp, goosebumps rising on your skin as you listen dimly to the noise of silverware banging on plates and drinks being poured, the shuffle of the waiters walking, and music on the street as day fades into night in front of the windows.

“Harry-” you try to reason, even though your thighs are parting wider on their own accord and the grip you have on his hands is nothing but for show now.

“‘Am having my dessert, woman,” he chuckles against your cheek, his lips and tongue swiping against your earlobe. “Let me have my dessert, hmm?”

He’s knuckles deep into you, the rings on his hand brushing against your mound. But you’re still aching, still want more of him. Your nails dig into his shoulder as you beg, “Harry. I want to be full. Make me full, Harry. “

“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you by adding a third finger, and swiping his thumb back and forth against your clit. And it feels so good, your back arches closer into his touch and your thighs clench.

“God-” you gasp at feeling him so deep. You’re trying to control your breathing, but your cunt feels so tight around the stretch of his fingers. You feel dizzy with how much you want him and need him and how much he’s giving you.

“Feels good, yeah? Ya gonna come already, lovie?” He smiles, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight. Feels just like when you’re grippin’ my cock when I’m inside of you, huh? You want to come so bad. You look so beautiful.”

“Don’t stop Harry. Don’t stop. I’m almost-Fuck-”

“I can feel you,” he says. “Beg me, Y/N. Then I’ll let you. I’ll make you come. I promise. Just need to hear you say it. Use your words, baby.”

“Oh fuck you-“ you tell him, your voice caught in a crossroads between amusement and want.

He smiles. “You will. But I need you to come for me first.”

He watches as you writhe beside him and you stare back through heavy lidded eyes as he works you towards your orgasm. He looks beautiful like this, really, his soft mouth wet and open. The hint of a smile on his lips. And the green of his eyes looking all the more dark and endless and intense under candlelight. Strands of his hair are shaking with the force of his arm as his hand moves beneath the skirt of your dress.

And then it happens - you’re babbling. Half mad with the need to come. “Harry. Please Harry. Please. Please. Please let me come.”

You can feel the sweat on the back of your thighs. Harry’s grip is so tight that your skirt is almost bunched up around your hips where you’re grateful the table is covering you from view. And your legs are shaking, hips bucking up to meet Harry’s fingers and shifting back against the leather of your seat.

“Gettin’ my fingers so wet, love. Fuckin’ me so well. Can you come now baby? Come so I can fuck you all good and proper like.”

“Harry-” you sigh. Your eyebrows knitting together, your lips trying to form a warning. You squeeze the shoulder of his velvet jacket with your fingers before your eyes roll back. “Fuck. I’m coming-I’m coming-”

To keep you from screaming, he smothers your lips with his mouth. You kiss him - all lips and tongue and teeth- before burying your head in his neck, exhausted, muffling your noises with his skin.

It hits you hard again and again, and he keeps fucking you through it. His fingers relentlessly hitting that soft, tender part inside of you that makes you want to scream every time he touches it with his fingers or his tongue or his cock. Dimly, you’re aware of him talking you through it too - telling you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how amazing, in between his own gasps of “Come on. Yeah. Yeah. Yes-” It’s as if Harry needs to see you come as much as you need to feel it.

You let out a frustrated groan when he finally slips his fingers from your cunt, frowning at feeling so empty without him. But you’re grateful when he takes pity on you by kissing you.

“Did so well for me, pet,” he says. He tenderly presses his fingers - that are not covered in your wetness- to pull your cheek close so he can press his mouth against your forehead where you’re sweaty and strands of your hair have escaped. You feel like jelly, which only amuses Harry even more. “Mmm.”

“Harry.” You say, slapping his forearm lightly as he makes a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, peering up at you from his eyelashes so you can watch him lap the taste of you from his hand. Somehow the sight feels even dirtier than having just had his hand between your thighs or coming in public. You try to fix an annoyed or stern look on your face but it only makes Harry laugh harder.

“Did you get to pick dessert, Mr. Styles?”

“Oh shit-”

His arm is gripping the back of your seat as he turns around to face Giselle.

“I’m sorry?” she says.

“We’ll pass on that,” Harry says, glancing down to the menu on the table. “My fiancé seems to be feeling a little ill. Where’s the nearest loo again?”

The misstep seems to catch her off guard and it makes you laugh from your place against the seat, Harry’s large hand smoothing back and forth on your knee as if to tell you down, girl.

She clears her throat, an annoyed look passing her eyes. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”

You’re both laughing as you all but run to the bathroom, Harry’s front colliding with your back. His long arms winding around your waist as both of your hands push the door open. He kisses you hard as you try to untangle yourself an inch to lock the door.

It’s raw and filthy like this. Harry kneeling on the floor for a second. Pushing down your underwear. Grasping the end of your dress and pulling it tight around your hips, long enough to spread you back against him and stare at where you are still swollen and wet and aching. Clenching around nothing there.

“Oh baby,” he says, a hint of real concern in his throat. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You twist back to hold him by his hair. He grips you by the hips and then cranes his neck forward to kiss and lick between your thighs, tongue gliding between the folds of your pussy lips in a way that has your back bowing it feels so good.

“Honey,” you whine. “Harry, please-”

He chuckles, leaning back to press a soft bite to the cheek of your ass before standing to his full height again. You turn long enough in his embrace to reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt and zipper without breaking eye contact. His arms are on the wall behind you, caging you in and he’s smirking. You know how much he loves this, having you undress him.

When your hands are done, he looms forward, his body pressing you back against the sink. “Just wanted to give you a kiss.” He laughs. “Turn around for me, love. S’gonna be hard and fast. Just like you need it. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” you keen.

You shiver as you feel and hear him take himself into his hand. He spits on his cock and then there’s the wet, telltale push and pull sound of him jerking himself off. It gives you goosebumps. You widen your stance, trying to balance yourself on your heels, and he presses a soothing hand against your back to keep you still as he slides inside of you in one smooth movement.

God. You want to scream with relief. He feels so much deeper from this angle. Heavier. Bigger. Like you can feel him in your belly.

One of Harry’s hands clings to yours on the sink, the heavy rings on his fingers gripping your knuckles as he bends you over. His cock feels heavy, and you feel impossibly full at this angle.

“Ya with me love? Hmm?” He kisses the naked skin of your back and throat where your dress is exposed and you grin, meeting his face in the mirror.

“Always.”

“Fuck me back, baby.” Harry begs you, his voice needy and raw. “Fuck me back.”

His hands don’t stop, incessantly pushing into grope your breasts. His mouth hot and wet on your neck.

Your eyes flutter close, you love how low and gritty his voice gets when he’s this deep. It feels good. Feels like something is touching you from the inside out, god, being with him is so consuming. You want him. All of him. All the time. Everywhere.

“Feels so good, Harry. Feel so full.” You whimper as you grind back against him, your skin singing with relief at finally feeling sated.

When you finally open your eyes you moan again at the sight of Harry reflected back on the glass in front of you. His hair is cascading down to fall in front of his eyes, trembling with the movement of his thrusts. And he’s leaving indents in your skin, bruises you’ll marvel at in the morning. But the best part is watching him fuck you.

He looks beautiful. Sliding his tongue over his mouth, biting into his lips as he loses himself in staring at the junction between your pussy and his cock. Watching himself disappear inside of you with each stutter and slide of his hips. When he looks up to find you staring at him, he smiles so wide and soft that it makes you tighten around him.

“Harry,” you whimper. You want to say more but your words feel caught in your throat. He feels so good.

“M’close, angel. You had me so hard at the dinning table. I wanna come so bad.”

He gathers you closer and sneaks his fingers into the space between your thighs and the sink and starts rubbing your swollen clit with two fingers. Your elbows almost lose their footing on the counter when he touches you, the sensation makes you feel like your knees could buckle.

“Oh my god, Harry-”

“You gonna come for me baby? Gonna coat my cock?”

“Yes-yes. God. Please-”

Your scalp stings where he reaches up to pull a handful of your hair. Your spine has no choice but to arch back. It hurts in the best kind of way.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard. But you have to stay with me, okay? Listen to me, love. You’re the only one I want.” You grit your teeth on a particularly hard thrust, his hips seeming to punctuate every word of his promise. “I love you. I love you. I only want to make you come. I only want you.”

“Me too, Harry. Me too,” you squeeze his hand, reaching back to grip his hair and meet his open mouth with your lips and kiss him over your shoulder. You clench your eyes shut as you fuck back against him, meeting the slide of his thrusts with the shaking of your hips. Your throat feels heavy at his words, but your brain feels like it’s scattering. You’re so close-

“You’re shaking,” he laughs, his voice heavy with astonishment. You can only hum in response. His lips press against your forehead quickly. “Give it to me, love. Give me fuckin’ everything. I’ll catch you. I need you to come for me. Please fuckin’ come for me.”

Your body obeys him before your mind can think, you’re so weak for him. Your shoulders are shaking so hard from the effort of trying not to scream his name. It burns in your throat and on your tongue, and you try to bite your lip through it.

“Harry,” you gasp. “Harry-”

He grips your face tenderly as if he can recognize how torn you feel. “That’s it, baby. My good girl. Did so well for me, angel. Gonna make me come too. Shit-”

“Yes-yes. Come Harry. God. Come. I want to feel it-”

And that always does it, your begging him. He can never resist the ache in your voice. He moans into your mouth and he’s uttering your name as he lets himself let go. You talk him through it too, telling him how much you love him, how he looks so good when he comes, how you wanna feel it deep. His cock is pulsing when he’s done, and his mouth reluctantly relents, letting go of your lips as his neck rolls back and he tries to catch his breath. His release settling inside of you in a way that makes you feel soothed. Harry feels dizzy, almost delirious with relief.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he laughs, sinking his weight onto you. You don’t mind though, loving the press of him against your back. He kisses a path up your spine. “I’m so glad I get to marry you. Get to fuck you for the rest of my life.”

You giggle from beneath his chin. “And here I thought you liked me for my brain,” you tease.

“I do,” he says. “Love your brain. And your laugh. And your cunt. All your parts, really.”

Because there’s no time to linger in the afterglow when you’re worried about someone knocking on the door, or a line forming outside, and you still have to go pay the bill for dinner - you laugh, but reluctantly squeeze Harry’s arm and kiss the side of his face.

“Babe-” you say softly.

“Mmm, okay,” he says.

He groans as he grasps your back, and just like in the dining room, he laughs softly when you frown as he pulls out of you. A reluctant whimper grazing your lips as your bodies separate. You take a moment to both pull yourselves together. Harry wetting towels and wadding up your underwear to get you cleaned up.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he laughs at the twisted look on your face when he throws them in the trash bin.

“You better,” you joke as you try to fish your compact out of your purse.

Harry leans back to watch you, he thinks it’s one of his favorite things to do. Watching you get ready for work in the morning, putting on perfume and pulling on your stockings. The way you always stop to give him a kiss before you leave, no matter how full your arms are of bags and lunch and coffee, art projects and homework. Or watching you get undressed and ready for bed at night, taking off your makeup and putting your lotion and nightgowns on. The way you smell after you come into your bedroom after a long bath. The way you never go to sleep without nudging him for a kiss good night, and the way your mouth always lingers before he leaves for a trip that will take him far away from you.

He’s caged you in again, one arm on the mirror watching you try to fix the smudged mess your mouth has become from his lips.

“Did you mean what you said?” you ask him. You press a tender kiss to the cross on his hand and his wrist. He’s kind enough to indulge you-

“‘Course I do. Would hang up the fuckin’ moon for ya, I love you so much. I wanna give you my last name. Wanna give you everything.”

You turns in his embrace so your back is to the mirror and you can look him in the eyes. He cups the back of your neck with his long fingers and cradles your face with the other. And you grasp both of his hands with yours and let him kiss you once, twice, again with his teeth softly grazing your bottom lip.

“I’m yours,” he promises. “I only ever want ‘ta be yours.”

Your eyes soften. He always manages to hit you out of nowhere with sweeping declarations like this and it makes you feel like you’d be crying, if you were somewhere with more time and not just hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant, having just had a sneaky -albeit mindblowingly amazing - fuck.

“You’re mine and I’m yours, Harry,” you vow. “Mine and yours."

He grins. “S’what I’ve been trying to tell you! God. Stubborn.”

He wraps both of his arms around your middle and you settle back against him, affording a second to laugh. His lips feel warm against your temple, and wet against your neck.

“Gotta admit though. I love when you get territorial. Gettin’ all possessive, love. Bit of a turn on. Should see you jealous more often.” You watch him as he pulls the straps of your dress back up and wraps himself around you like a shadow. His face resting in your neck, pressing soft sweet, wet kisses.

“Yeah? We could flip it. Might not be so fun when Chad at work asks me to go out for dinner or a drink when my boyfriend is out of town.”

“Hey. Hey. Fiancé,” he emphasizes with his fingers on your chin. His eyebrows wrinkling together for good measure as he flutters his fingers in front of your face. “Wait. Has he really?”

Harry meets your gaze in the mirror as you nod and explain. “So many times while you were on tour. Always knew -somehow- when you were out of town. Think he might have had your schedule memorized more than me.”

Harry groans. “Ugh. Twat. Fuckin’ Chad.”

“Might have to assert your dominance, Harold. Gotta show him who I belong to.” You laugh.

“Yeah? How would I do that?” Harry plays along. “Should I show up at school and fuck you in your office again? On your desk? In your classroom?”

You giggle, but feel your core flutter at the thought. Last time he did that, you couldn’t look at your desk for weeks.

You leave Harry’s offer open ended as you kiss his cheeks, his lips, his neck. He grunts when you press your mouth to his Adam’s Apple and dip your tongue and teeth into the indention in his throat that makes him melt. His favorite spot.

You reach up to wrap your arms around Harry’s neck, brushing his hair from his cheekbones. He’s growing it out long again and he looks beautiful. Your fingers are fisted around the cross on his neck and the collar of his shirt, keeping it open. And when you look up at him, his lips are beautifully puffy and blistered, a few shades short of the lipstick you are wearing.

He stares down at you, smirking and half serious.

“Want her to see the mark you left on my neck, huh?”

“Looks like a vampire had her way with your throat, babe,” you affirm, cupping his neck, your voice filled with pride at your own dirty work.

He’s beaming when you look at him. “Photographer outside will probably get a shot of you lookin’ freshly fucked too.”

“Harry.” You jab him in the ribs, pretending to be scandalized, yelping when he squeezes your hip in retaliation.

You finish shimmying your dress back down your legs. Not bothering to tend to the mess your hair has become from when Harry fisted his fingers in it. Harry gives you a coy and knowing smile as he pulls the lock and door open, positive that you want to wear it like some sort of badge of honor, just like he wants to wear the marks on his neck.

When you get back to the table, the agony you felt in your chest earlier has all but disappeared - but not the need to show that Harry is yours. Harry can recognize it too, especially when you ask him to leave you alone with the check and wait by the entrance.

“Baby,” his voice narrows, but his lips are lifting at the edges.

“I’ll be nice. Go.”

You see Giselle catch him on the way to the door, her eyes widening when she takes in Harry’s open shirt. Your heart swells when you see him walk past her without as much as a nod.

She catches you watching and you can see she’s trying to bury the deflated look on her face as she walks towards you, taking in your disheveled hair, your smudged lipstick.

“Is Harry okay?”

“Harry’s fine, Giselle. In fact, he’s engaged,” you muse. “I don’t think your boss would find it very professional if they found out you were trying to slip guests your phone number while you were on the clock.”

You give her your best and broadest smile as you push the bill and cash towards her - plus a $200 tip, with her phone number facing up. You know she doesn’t miss it either, the gleam of your antique engagement ring catching and sparkling in the candlelight. It’s a vintage five carat showstopper, you know that’s why Harry picked it. It stops anyone who sees it. And you can tell because Giselle looks mortified, like she’s choking on her own confidence as she stares at it.

She turns red. “I-I’m so sorry-” she stammers.

“Next time, make sure he’s single first. Yeah? Or maybe stop talking long enough to realize whether or not he wants you too before you humiliate yourself. Again.” You narrow your eyes and tilt your head. “Have a good night, Giselle.”

You don’t miss the way she shrinks back a little when you get up and walk past her.

When you find him again, Harry is staring at you, his eyebrows raised. He throws you a cautious but amused, beautiful smirk as you approach.

“There’s my misses,” he says. He extends his hand for you when you get close and you take it. “Did you get into a fight, stubborn?”

You shake your head. “No. I left her a big tip. Decided to kill her with some kindness.”

Harry’s eyes are fond as they look at you. “That’s my girl,” he says.

He laughs as you draw up on your toes to pull him down with both arms for a kiss, the hand with your engagement ring fisting in his hair.

He presses both hands into the middle of spine and kisses you back. When you draw apart you don’t have to look through the window to see some cameras trying to disappear out of view. He knows what you’re doing. You’re not usually like this and neither is Harry, but you’re grateful he allows you this scene - some part of you is surprisingly thrilled at the idea of this photo. At least a few days worth of articles with you captured in front of this restaurant. Your name alongside Harry’s. Not some model, not some singer, just regular old you- who gets to share his bed and his house and -someday soon- his name.

“Baby,” he whines into your ear. “That looked a bit...intense.”

“Did it?” you play along.

“She looked scared shitless, love.” he admits. “Looked like you were so close to hittin’ her.”

“I felt like I could,” you laugh. “Had to show her not to mess with what’s mine. Think your ring kind of shut her up.”

He smirks, looking down to where your hands are joined. His thumb running over the diamond on your finger.

“Mmm, got me kind of...stirred up watching.”

Your eyes widen. “Harry! Jesus. You could get hard at the drop of a hat, I swear.”

“You sayin’ it like it’s a bad thing?”

“Harry-” His hands lose themselves in your hair again. You react by tilting your neck back so he can lean down to kiss you, with both of his hands on your face, effectively shutting you up.

“I love you,” he huffs. “But can we please get the hell out of here. Really want to go home and make really loud love to my fiancé..”

“Do you now?” you tease against his jaw.

“Reckon we can be loud enough that that knob Chad hears us from his house?” His eyes flash up, and he grins at you as you laugh harder. “Just wanna be yours.”

And how can you argue with that? You laugh as he tugs you under your arm, and you peer over his shoulder to wave and flash Giselle your ring - savoring the bewildered and embarrassed look on her face one last time- before you and Harry both disappear into the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I have another story based on “Adore You” that I hope to post by the end of the week. Please feel free to follow me to keep up with more stories. I’d love to have you here. <3 Or let me know what you think!

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfic #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x ofc #harry styles writing #yours #my writing

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suzey8888 · 3 years

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“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

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triggerlil · 4 years

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Hi, i will love to read some jealous drarry. I been thinking that Draco is a lot more jealous than Harry, but not always shows it and that Harry's reaction to it would be priceless.

Hey anon, thanks for the ask!! I totally agree with this headcanon 🥰 I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind, but have some Halloween party jealous Draco along with many other gay side ships hehe (also posted on ao3 if you want to check content, although there are no warnings)

Draco sighed, spiked pumpkin juice sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“If you care so much, just go talk to him,” Pansy said, leaning back against the wall and admiring her red painted nails.

They were in the room of requirement, the walls done up in varying degrees of black and orange—from the streamers to the charmed bats flitting about the ceiling, it was every bit the Halloween party. It had all been Pansy’s idea, surprisingly. She had always loved a bit of gothic couture, and now they were all suffering for it, at a party planned by her and Granger, of all people. They had done it all under the nose of the teachers, not bothering to ask for permission, even if they probably could have gotten it. No one was going to know regardless—it was going to be a huge Halloween sleepover.

They had all worked hard to set up the room, everyone delegated a different task. Granger and Pansy had overseen the most important one; decorations. Candles floated around the outskirts, lighting the room with a haunting glow, flickering across the dance floor. Pumpkins were stacked like sentries around the room, their smiles ominous, cobwebs in every corner, and a charmed skeleton next to the doors that insisted on heckling people. The atmosphere in the room was perfect, even Draco had to admit, creepy and exuberant in a terribly fun way. They had put Luna and Daphne in charge of music, and it had been a playful mixture of haunting organ pieces and the most recent dance hits, from Hex a Wix to the Weird Sisters. Longbottom and the Weasley girl had done the food, and it was obvious who had got what, the table split into candied apples, pumpkin pie, and the like, the other side hosting severed fingers (transfigured chocolates), a jar of eyeballs (transfigured gumballs), spiked pumpkin juice, and firewhiskey gummy worms.

And of course, everyone had come dressed in costume. A slightly muggle convention, but muggle was in post-war, and who were the eighth-year students to fight the trends? Draco had been there early with Pansy and Granger, and he had mentally taken note of each costume as people walked in.

Pansy, always a lover of dramatics, had come as the muggle version of a vampire. It was bold, it was gothic, and it was slightly controversial considering vampires did exist. She had temporarily transformed her teeth into fangs, and the exaggerated canines added to the sharp lines in her face, contrasting the glamoured red eyes and her black bob. Draco had to admit, she looked brilliant in her flowing, high collared black cape, the inside lined red, her tight leather pants, and black men’s button-up.

In contrast, Granger was wearing a long black dress that made her look like she had just stepped out of the 1800s, and apparently, she had… As Marie Curie, the muggle scientist. She had charmed her wand a glowing green, “radioactive” she said, and her bushy brown hair was put up in a high bun.

She looked atrocious in Draco’s opinion, but Pansy couldn’t stop staring at the nape of her neck, or admiring the stray curls framing her face. He had also noticed Granger assessing Pansy’s toned legs, giggling madly at everything Pansy said. It made him want to vomit.

Luna had arrived promptly to set up the music, brown paint smudged across her cheeks, and bright yellow petals sticking out of her hair. A sunflower, the symbol of joy and adoration, she informed Draco serenely.

Next, most of the Gryffindor’s had shown up together, being boisterous and joyous, so making Draco’s eye twitch in annoyance.

Weasley had wrapped his Gryffindor tie around his head, tucked his white shirt loosely into tattered beige slacks, put a sword on his hip, and called himself a pirate. The epitome of lazy.

The girl Weasley was no different, dressed in her Quidditch uniform she was, gasp, a Quidditch player. She had quickly sought out Luna, flexing brashly. Disgusting. Although the way Luna had lit up at seeing her, becoming ever more the sunflower, had brought a small smile to Draco’s face.

The rest of the Gryffindor’s were boring enough; Longbottom the gardener, muggle versions of witches, Thomas a muggle football player, Finnigan apparently the football.

There were, of course, a few Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw editions to their little gathering, but Draco couldn’t be bothered to look up from what he was doing, their costumes as boring as he would have expected. Although Zacharias Smith seemed to have put a lot of effort into looking like an absolute idiot, his dragon handler costume was completely unrealistic. Draco had never wished to see that much of Smith, his cloth shorts and thigh-high boots, fake dragon tooth necklace, and bare chest, made no sense when handling a fire breathing beast. Weasley had no issue telling him as much, his sister whipping out a camera, “to send to Charlie,” she snickered.

Finally, the Slytherins had arrived, fashionably late as always.

Theo walked in smoking a pipe, wearing a trench coat; “I’m Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes! The greatest detective in history!” He exclaimed in annoyance as only Granger recognized him.

Crabbe and Goyle had shown up as surprisingly well done-up monsters, Crabbe’s face painted a sickly green, Goyle wrapped head to toe in toilet paper. “M a Mmmy,” he muttered through the costume.

Millicent had thrown on a pair of devil horns and a tail, calling it a day.

Daphne had come as an ice queen, her blond hair streaked with snowflakes, her blue dress shimmering in the candlelight. She looked almost too good for their little affair, as if she belonged in an arching ballroom, glass slippers on her feet.

That was nearly everyone, and Draco had been about to go back to the fake bats he was charming, and that was when he had arrived.

“Harry, mate!” Weasley yelled, “where’s your costume?”

Potter was wearing a white button-up and slacks, his Gryffindor tie hanging loosely around his neck—so exactly what he wore under his robes all day. His hair was an absolute mess, definitely the most frightening thing Draco had seen all day, his round wire-framed glasses skewed.

“Er—I didn’t realize it was a costume party.”

“It’s bloody Halloween, Potter,” Draco quipped, “what did you expect?”

“You don’t seem to have put in much effort either, Malfoy,” Potter retorted.

That was decidedly not true; Draco was wearing all black, from his turtleneck and slacks, to the fuzzy cat ears nestled in his blond hair, to the tail pinned to his arse that seemed to have a mind of its own.

“I am a black cat, the most mysterious and magical of animals.”

It was at that point that Blaise had decided to show his face.

“Zabini,” Weasley growled, “what did we do to deserve this honour?”

“I wouldn’t miss your pretty face,” Blaise said, nearly purring, and Weasley’s face turned beet red.

“No costume, Blaise?” Pansy asked. “Seems you and Potter missed the memo.”

For the first time, Blaise and Potter acknowledged each other, and Draco hated the cunning smile that spread across Blaise’s chiselled features.

“Actually, Harry and I planned this.”

“What?” Draco bit out, unable to catch himself.

Blaise walked forward, snaking a hand around Potter’s neck, and slipping off his tie and replacing it with his own.

“I came as a Gryffindor, he’s a Slytherin.”

Harry—and Draco reasoned with himself, if Blaise could call him Harry, then he bloody well could too— looked stunned for a second, and then a grin split across his face, his green eyes lighting up, highlighted somehow by the tie around his neck.

“I can’t just go and talk to him,” Draco moaned, now, “and he’s all distracted.”

“You could be the one doing the distracting.”

“But he’s flirted with almost every other Slytherin; shouldn’t he come to me?”

“You’re too intimidating over here.”

“I’m not!”

“Just go talk to him, Draco.”

“I can’t, Pans!”

“Sweetie,” Pansy said, cupping Draco’s face, “you’re starting to get tiring.”

She slipped away, leaving Draco to be the fuming wallflower by himself. She slid up next to Granger, surprising her from behind and pulling her onto the dancefloor.

Draco scanned the room, growling when he saw Harry and Blaise talking in the corner. It wasn’t fair, Blaise wasn’t even interested, and he knew how Draco felt.

Suddenly, he caught a flicker of blue and silver, and he watched with wide eyes as Daphne pushed past Blaise, her blond hair done up in a loosely curled bun, and pulled Harry onto the dance floor. Oh, that was just rich. He watched as Harry and Daphne twirled around the dance floor, until suddenly there was Theo, pipe still hanging from his mouth, trench coat thrown open. Daphne curtsied, and Harry bowed, but instead of Theo taking Daphne’s hand, he pulled Harry towards him, dipping him low.

Draco watched with growing anger as the tips of Harry’s ears turned red, and he stalked over to the food, actively avoiding the dance floor.

He took a handful of firewhiskey gummy worms. If he was going to watch Harry get propositioned by every Slytherin, he was going to do it absolutely pissed.

“Drinking away your troubles, too?” Weasley asked, a cup of pumpkin juice gripped firmly in hand, a glower plastered on his face.

Draco followed his gaze to Blaise taking Harry off Theo’s hands. Blaise looked up, eyes skipping off Draco to land on Weasley, his face splitting into a challenging grin. And then Harry looked at what Blaise was looking at, and his eyes were locked on Draco’s, he seemed as if he was going to come over, and then Blaise was spinning him away.

“The nerve of some people,” Weasley said.

“He’s obviously taunting you,” Draco drawled, realizing how hypocritical he sounded. “Why don’t you just talk to him.”

“Because I—” Weasley spluttered, “I can’t just—”

Draco rolled his eyes, biting down on his tongue as he watched Millicent drag Harry out to dance, dwarfing him with her broad shoulders and height.

“Why does every Slytherin want Harry tonight?” Draco fumed, biting down hard on a gummy worm, relishing the bitterness that came with it.

“Maybe you should go talk to him,” Weasley said, enjoying turning Draco’s own words on him.

“Thanks for that, Weasley.”

“How impressive we are,” he said, “standing here like idiots.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Take a shot with me?” He said, handing him some fire-whisky.

So, Draco and Weasley did a shot together, the drink burning their throats, and they stood together darkly, dwelling in their shared jealousy.

“Look at that,” Draco said, and they watched as Thomas and Finnigan stumbled into cobwebs, unable to get out. “Pansy got me to charm them so that you can’t leave until you kiss.”

“Why is everyone so happy,” Weasley moaned, looking away as the kiss deepened, Thomas and Finnigan dropping onto a nearby couch to continue.

“Beats me,” Draco agreed, angrily watching the Weasley girl spinning Luna around, their faces radiating; Pansy standing with her arms around Granger, head leaning on her shoulder; Theo and Longbottom dancing happily, albeit a little awkwardly, and everyone else that wanted to be paired off with everyone else, and it was just so infuriating.

“Hello Ronald,” a sultry voice said, and Draco and Weasley both whipped their heads around to find Blaise standing there, top buttons undone, tie loose.

That was it, Draco thought, as Blaise led Ron away. He had had enough. Potter was nowhere to be seen, and he wasn’t going to just stand here watching everyone be lovey dovey and absolutely deplorable.

He put down his glass, shooing away a bat that was trying to settle in his hair, and stormed out of the room of requirement, his tail twitching angrily. Outside, the candles flickered ominously, the hallways silent. He skirted around the suits of armour, looking out for Filch, Mrs. Norris, or Peeves, and let himself finally take a breath.

He revelled in the quiet, and found himself in the courtyard, the stars twinkling with an extra Halloween specialty. He sat down on a bench, casting a quick warming charm against the cool night air, and allowed the silence to wash over him.

It wasn’t fair that everyone else got to be happy, discovering that when they got over their prejudices, they got along well. Draco had been pining after Harry for years, years, and here Pansy and Granger had only started getting along a few months ago. Certainly, Blaise and Weasley hadn’t been after each other before now. He grumbled to himself, kicking the rocks at his feet, until he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Malfoy?” A voice called out, and he cursed inwardly. Of course. He turned around on the bench, his tail flexing with the chill that curled down his spine, nothing to do with the weather.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco asked harshly, as Harry came round and sat next to him.

“I wondered where you went,” he said, brow furrowing with worry as he shivered.

Draco rolled his eyes, casting a quick warming charm on Harry, too.

“Weren’t you having fun being the complete center of attention?” Draco asked, looking away so Harry didn’t see how serious he was being. “There wasn’t a Slytherin in that room who didn’t flirt with you.”

“Except for you,” he replied, inching closer.

“What?”

“You never flirted with me, you barely talked to me,” he said, a breeze running through the courtyard ruffling his hair, a far-off owl hooting. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I—No, Potter, you are so dense,” Draco spluttered, not sure how to put it into words. “You were the one who never talked to me!”

“I wanted to, but you seemed so angry.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You really are an idiot, Potter,” he said, and he leaned forward, looking closely into Harry’s eyes, admiring the different shades of green flecked around his pupils. If there was any night to forget his cowardice, it was this night, with eldritch magic on the wind and ethereal energy permeating the air.

“What are you—” he breathed, realizing what Draco was implying. He swallowed nervously, and Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched the delicate skin of Harry’s throat.

“Can I kiss you, Harry?” he whispered, “because this is what I’ve been wanting all night.”

Harry just nodded dumbly, Draco closing the gap between them and bringing their lips together, running a hand through Harry’s messy black hair, coming to pull on the Slytherin tie around his neck. He tasted like sweetness, a hint of alcohol on his breath, his glasses digging into the bridge of Draco’s nose. He flicked his tongue against Harry’s lips, gently prying them open. He let Harry explore his mouth nervously, until he bit down on Harry’s lower lip, sucked, shuddered as Harry gasped into his mouth. The kiss deepened, their noses brushing, teeth clicking for a moment, and Draco let a hand snake under Harry’s shirt, gripping the skin he had wanted to feel for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry looked even more of a mess, and Draco’s cat ears were lopsided, his tail stroking up and down Harry’s arm.

“Er—“ Harry started, his lips kiss swollen and attractive, “I mean—Shit, Malfoy.”

“I think maybe we’re past last names.”

“Okay, Draco—But, I—Was that why all the Slytherin’s were dancing with me?” He asked. “To make you jealous so that,” he motioned between them, “this would happen.”

“Actually… That makes a lot of sense,” Draco said, making a mental note to torture Pansy. “I guess we should make,” he mimicked Harry, motioning between them, “this happen.” And he pulled him forward by the tie and kissed him again, making another mental note to make Harry wear Slytherin colours more often.

Draco smiled into the kiss. Apparently, a bit of jealousy could be beneficial, and he thought that everyone being happy and in disgustingly in love probably wasn’t so bad.f anything, it would be nice to feel wanted for a change. Somewhere, candles in pumpkins were blown out, bags of candy dumped out and counted, and the first of November was coming in without fan fair, Halloween stalking back into the shadows. Until next year, Draco thought, and if he could want Harry for six whole years, they could probably last for one. They could wear a couple’s costume next Halloween, something absolutely atrocious, like darkness and light.

Meanwhile, Harry was thinking, through the pleasure that was beginning to flood his body, that having an anniversary with Draco on Halloween wouldn’t be a terrible thing. After all, he had been looking for distractions today, and he had been lucky enough to find the best one. A little black cat he could call his own.

#drarry #hp #pansmione #blairon #draco malfoy #harry potter #pansy parkinson #draco x harry #harry x draco #eighth year #halloween #halloween harry potter #mywriting

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matchamorphosis · 4 years

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲

𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆. - 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐 + 𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒕

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Once Upon a Time in the shiny pearly gates of an elite residential community not long ago, lived our dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. a revengeful Juliet, a woeful princess within the lavish parts of these aristocratic folk. what will happen when she meets again with her once Romeo now fiend in the lovely auspicious event of her graduation party? especially when she’s out for his head.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alternate universe AU tutor//counselor!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader + bryce langely × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || angst + smut

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 9.7K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || +18 nsfw, daddy!kink, student-tutor relationship, age gape: reader is twenty two and ari is thirty seven: don’t like, don’t read, dark elements, sexual past // intentions // flashbacks + mentions lose of virginity + future manipulation//blackmail + somewhat dark/upsetting content + alcohol mention + emotional denial

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || valley of the dolls by marina . teachers pet by melanie martinez . imagine by ariana grande

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 || romeo + juliet ☆ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ☆

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || hello my dearests! chapter two will come soon! ♡ anyways, enjoy reading cherubs!

THE BRONZE BELLS RING BACK AND FORTH FROM THE TOWER ABOVE, MARKING THE HOUR OF FIVE O’CLOCK.

shuffling of waitresses and waiters bustle as they seamlessly welcome, seat and serve the arriving guests as they begin to enter the dining room. not breaking or huffing a single sweat as they carry the trays of prepared dishes while ice buckets of champagne and brandy dance around the golden framed accommodation.

patrons young and old in fine silks and tailored stitches of embroidery situate themselves on the seats at the lengthen dining table. the seating arrangements that were made don’t crowd the banquet hall too much yet still very much wide that you only see eye level with the many persons right and left of you.

sharp smiles and provoking laughter, along with articulate chatter and conversations are not too loud yet not too quiet for anyone who had the nerve to add on nor the audacity to step in. devious hushed giggles and cruelly clever remarks still being heard, the affluent demons situate themselves comfortably before the grand feast.

entertained by the mulled wine and glorious halcyon strokes of the Rococo paintings that ordain the burgundy upper fortifications. soft classical music soaks through while they breath in the malodorous rich phlox air, sitting blissfully. a rays of candlelight chandeliers and the whimsically painted ceiling of the golden cumulus clouds pierced through almighty arch angels shine above their privileged heads. glimmering in the sunlight swimming the room as the servers begin re-pouring the sparkling alcohol in their half empty glasses.

being settled in the middle of the table, our dear sweet princess- sits tracing the outline of her wine glass with a single finger.

the slight high pitch hum sends her deep in the labyrinth of her thoughts as she internally chants to remind herself who she is. more so the individual figure she is manifesting, someone who will give her strength through this tear dropping moment.

though here she is, green as the frog prince tale her neglecting father read to her to sleep when she was a child- she couldn’t help but not shed the ugly ivy shade.

for only the scene in front of her would make dutiful damsels cry in their lace handkerchiefs and shining knights in silver armor woe in pity- it gave all the more reason to.

bare elbow resting on the table, it holds up her clenched fist. holding up her chin while she leans upset on forced straight shoulders. glossy nude lips pursed, sharp eyes puncture through the white cloth of the finely dressed table. once again restraining herself not to pout or let a sign of disgust crowd her face to make her emotions and thoughts obvious.

[y/n] [l/n] will prevail through this- well, until she starts to hear a giggle, and then a hushed whisper.

biting down on the inside of her cheek to ease the need of wanting to snap a snarky comment between the two individuals. for whom are speaking in front of her rather carelessly (for the fact that one of the which- his date or so you found out much earlier “fiancé” was excusable but it didn’t keep you from wanting to rip the woman’s tongue out) she simply rethinks her situation away from her prior knowledge and sit to a solid conclusion.

it seems as though you’ve been replaced

if it were possible, the tips of your ears tint up in a blistering crimson red as smoke curls, like a teapot screeching as the water was boiling over. although you don’t let that scream out nor the tears you’re keeping within. instead, slender brows arch and scrunch in their artful cynical manner.

your inflicting conscious attempts to cool down the bubbling boiling cauldron of vexes in the pit of your belly that you want to spite the man across. yet you’re unsure whether it’s because you feel like vomiting or because the scene in front of you is pushing a new level of internal disgust in yourself.

strange how you put yourself up with this in the first place is a whole heart mystery

listening in and out of your beloved friends conversations- centering around typical topics such as boys, books and bucks. [y/n] sits rather contemptible.

[y/n] doesn’t want to deal with the suffocating thick air of strained smiles, faux compliments, and forced giggles and chuckles.

all do nothing but rot her Dior perfumed presence the tragic princess is illed from this life.

facing too many cold greedy touches to her bare highlighted shoulders and too many fabricated comments twined with vicious sarcasm and shaded in fifty shades of irony. it was all too much to handle, even when their pockets were dripping in gold and bundles of cash it was all a façade. apprehending the reflection of pure hatred in the rich folks split red irises, it has all been seen and taken accounted of hundreds of nonchalant times.

all fail to make you shiver, all fail to make you resign

[y/n] doesn’t know how long she’s going to have to sit and look pretty, not for herself no but for an image.

all for the sake of her fashion designer mother, who urged her to have a gala for her high performance and decree. how can you say no to your own mother? even after all the vicious Hell she puts you through, she got you here. mistaking your own emotional withdrawal for strength at her cruel hands, she crafted her own perfect daughter.

one who showed no weakness, who gave no mercy

despite this, she feels herself crumbling

[y/n] doesn’t feel like talking or thinking about the silly and irrelevant ideals and prospects that don’t involve her sitting on his lap.

straddling the strong warmth of his thighs while your inner ones grind against his searing loins. wanting to act on the fine lines of either choking him or kissing him to death as your jeweled fingers play with the buttons of his expansive crisp white.

head full of toxic odium inflections you want to slash against the gentleman across it doesn’t mix right knowing you wish to be that women sitting next to him. the one who receives the cheeky whispers, who gets to feel his tongue when you two kiss.

instead, you ease the desire by taking a quick unnoticed swing of the moonshine in your silver flask. placing the vile thing back in your pearl Gucci clutch you grasp the item close to the ribs of your abdomen- quickly popping a mint in your mouth to mask the telling breath. keeping touch with your breathing, the shiny diamond ring on the woman’s finger almost made you choke the first time you saw it.

your heart nearly stopping dead in your chest when it sparkled and the hand that was twined with it was wrapped in another that also displayed the gold band. it threw you off completely and wrecked havoc on your heart and mind that you had to excuse yourself to cry in the bathroom.

now, your tears are nearly spent. the sight of dreaded thing only boils along with the other bittersweet things you find meaningless when it dealt with the gentlemen.

the gentlemen across the dinging table, that broke too much of your heart and took too many pieces.

[y/n] doesn’t want to look or hear the heart shattering display of affection that is proceeding right in front of her eyes.

knowing there was a certain unintentional catch to performing your celebrating gala you weren’t exactly sure what the decoy was. all until the deliberate provocative maneuvers were performed by the enemy himself.

that enemy, the gentlemen across from you, is puffing a thick Cuban cigar. not cowering against your bellicose gaze nor shudder of the battle cry that rings in the deep pools of your irises. he should know better not to play such a shrewd egocentric game when you’ve been playing it for years.

however the battlefield is empty, but you want war

you want it so bad it’s clouding your judgement, clouding every rational thought that brings you to reasonability.

if he wishes to avoid this matter let him be labeled as a wise coward. if he wishes to take you to battle then let him burn in the crossfire of his deserved loss

you’ve had the experience of driving your victims in circles- questioning themselves on their own apprehensions and relation predictions.

it was fun driving them over the lines of their morals and boundaries. it was even more fun to sit in the passengers seat as you insisted for them to not hit the breaks and for-long the steering wheel. telling them they had no worries as they drove over the cliffs edge. yet in the end they always hit the breaks and they always begged for you to forgive them for it.

no one had the will to do so, no one could satisfy your hunger

the deed at the moment- the childish yet very humorous game is more so a chore now if you were to admit. no longer a stringed merriment of imperious interest to drive your morphine high. on the other hand you aren’t going to ignore the piercing glance which soul purpose is to make you stare back.

the constant idyllic remarks that relentlessly grab your unwanted attention make him somewhat smirk as you notice it from the corner of you eye. the cocky grin almost willing you to shove that monarch title of yours in his face. slowly making him wish as you keeps his glare on you that you’d step off your throne and accuse him of revolt against the crown.

anything to make him hear your voice again

the finger of your right hand that was still tracing the wine glass halts as you grab the chalice within your clawed hold. tapping the glass slowly with your shimmery white acrylics, all you see is red.

red, red, blistering red

[y/n] Beaudelaire is furious

if anyone truly knew her they would notice that she is indeed too quiet. that the way she purses her lips is a comprehensible threat that friends, classmates, and acquaintances are regretfully familiar with.

cause they all know, that once [y/n] Beaudelaire is simmering with the acrimony of the Gods there will be vengeance to uphold. and sooner than later she will be redeemed, even if it means a dead body being buried or burned she will get away with it.

such wrathful repayment will have you second guessing your every daily decision, it will always come when you least expect it. although it will come (she sincerely promises) on a silver platter. polished and delivered by Karma herself that would make the War God Ares shiver and cower in fear and leave Athena in wonders on your foreshadowing strategies.

there are three golden rules you should know when you come across [y/n] Beaudelaire || never lie to her, never double-cross her, never get in her way

you would think these simple laws would be easy to understand, follow and obey on the account that they’ve been written like a syllabus within the minds of her subjects-

then you are sadly mistaken

there isn’t one event where an act of treason or mutiny were to be made against you, questioning your position of authority. you’ve known from the beginning that if you were constructing the building blocks of your kingdom a judicial system was to be constructed and laws were to be proclaimed.

even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules. it is no secret to everyone that the polished anarchy and shining throne that your seated on is built on the shameful secrets and corrupt deeds of your subjects. like a contract these vain money slicked cheats didn’t read the fine print.

the confidential information of the lieges were made as, somewhat clauses in contrary with whatever business you had to deal with or against them

everyone wished you the best of luck just as everyone wanted your throne, secretly wanting to burn you alive at the stake.

putting into perspective if they had burned you alive, taken the death enveloped in Holy fire nothing would change for their benefit. the anarchy, the high socially affluent class would crumple under new management. even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules.

the crown, throne and kingdom was all for you

not because it was a birth right passed down, but because the socially illusioned world created didn’t exist for you created a system that only you understood how to control.

you worked hard to have the social and financial suitors of both potential allies not just in your own state but from all around. from the Beverly Hills to the Upper East Side there are people watching over you. nobody wished to mess with you although they loved the idea of it, you knew of people that are even powerful than anyone in this room it was frightening.

teaching yourself to be socially assertive and wiser in making decisions whenever it came to making ties and bonds. a trait these close minded sheep in wolfs clothing couldn’t buy with their mommy's and daddy's plastic.

their silver spoon lives have been fed with opulent lies one mouthful at a time

the princess thinks, amusing herself she can’t help but smirk rather wickedly down at the light amber liquid in her crystal glass. it keeps her distracted from the brute man across, knowing exactly what’s conjuring in that pretty mind of yours.

coming off as innocent to the careless eye but if you knew [y/n] Beaudelaire nothing about the young lady is entirely innocent, at least not anymore. not as innocent as people loved and cherished, an element those poor simple fools took for fucking granted.

it could all have been ruined from the gentlemen in front of her, her cruel parents, fabricated friends and crushed dreams. but she used to remember herself as the sweet heartfelt cherub that’s casted into the thundering storm. a storm she cannot escape from, how can someone escape from the troubles of their own mind?

sure she was naïve then, oblivious of the ways of the affluent world around her. so uncertain and troubled, always so quiet with her nose in a book and always first to raise her hand when her teachers asked a question. a stuttering mess whenever a handsome boy would speak to her, even when it was but the simplest things.

she remembers those days. when she wouldn’t let herself be seen out without satin hair ribbons that matched her plaid skirts, blazers and stockings. simple trademarks being her black glossy heeled flats, powdered sugar bubblegum, lip-smacking strawberry chapstick, and the tender playfulness of her blooming body.

[y/n] Beaudelaire used to be pure- or whatever fucked up term that would describe a girl with no social experience.

now she’s considered an enigma. as many of her classmates and peers believe- a mystery, a paradox.

she was loyal, yet somewhat detached. platonic yet sensual, heartwarming yet tear wrenching. no one truly knows or understands her, nor wishes to. maybe the gentlemen some time ago wished but not anymore, the princess deems.

the elegant dining hall that accompanies the Beaudelaire family fitted fifty five guests. all from her graduating class, extended family, business affiliates and close courtiers bustled with energy as the food is beginning to be served.

conversations ending and picking up quickly in between mouthfuls of buttered bread rolls and sips of ancient wine. the steaming rotisserie chickens and roasted lamb shoulders sit on plates of roasted vegetables next to the multiple wooden baskets of rolls. ivory bowls of rice pea soup and dishes of white and red sauced pastas are placed in commendation with trays of salads in front of each sitting guests.

looking down at the ivory china, the pea soup was the last possible thing [y/n] wanted to consume and the flirtatious comments that were happening in front of her only added to the fire that was tearing inside of her.

thinking otherwise, he was getting back at her from her actions earlier, he was equally as jealous as her

[y/n] looks outside through the tall glass apertures, streaming in golden light the crowd of conversations and chatter going to the back of her mind. to help her recollect upon the events that happened earlier that day.

it’s a sunny breezy June day for the graduating class of Bradford for they had just arrived at the Osborne manor for lunch from the gardens of the Beaudelaire estate. considering it is the first week of summer break, long until she and her classmates are back to their books starting their third year of university.

they’ve decided instead of staying inside the fine Beaudelaire music room rehearsing their song for Madame Hautecourts (Bradfords founder) arrival next week, they’d rather spent it on the Beaudelaire estate.

surrounded by blooming flower beds, marble fountains and ivory statues. remotely unattended from any pressure bearing adults, it was heaven. enjoying the sound of buzzing bees and humming hummingbirds and the sight of elegant doves bathing in the birdbaths, their senior year was finally over and they were finally done with their studies.

the rich white teethed teens drank fizzy bourbon sodas, smoked cigars and played cards as a celebration. smiled with nefarious charm as they told, listened and laughed along detention stories and parent-teacher mishaps that have happened throughout their high school years.

it was their right to enjoy their summer break as shameless young adults committing prohibited acts. they were legal enough to break the law, but wealthy enough to get away with it

a golden ethereal moment [y/n] relished, yet couldn’t help but feel the peering stare of someone on her.

in shock she met the eyes of a figure that was staring down at her on the second story balcony of the mansion. immediately upon seeing the heavenly cerulean blue of his fierce glare caught her off guard completely, for she has never set sight of them in person in forever.

unaware from his return over seas all together she surely did not invite the man yet here he stands. head up looking down on you with those ocean hues as if disappointed with the clutch of moonshine in your grasps and the lips of a drunk boy at your neck.

ignoring the large group of adults chatting upon the carved ivory balcony. talking with champagne flutes in hand while cigarettes sit fuming in between their dazzling ring fingers, not caring for their children below as they commit their sins.

the gentlemen’s- Ari Levinson’s sharp glare was still present and it viscously dripped in distain. maybe baring the same shock you were feeling- that someone had their hands and lips on his property. knowing that tell, he did indeed notice you’re holding onto this boys hand that he will later find out is your boyfriend, Bryce Langely.

yes, the older man heard it right from your mothers lips - boyfriend.

it was a little bit, a morsel of karma that you unraveled against him. having gotten over Ari, your traitor of a Romeo you now savor in the violent delights of being a woeful Juliet. even when you sometimes feared over your newly found beau, you would overshadowed that creeping chill to spite that man who shattered your heart.

it came with its heartbreaking disadvantages but had abundances of limitless sinful privileges. obtaining a title that doesn’t include you ruining someone's will to live or playing a mind-fuck emotional waste game surely was your guilty pleasure.

granting all this, we all have learned from past mistakes- from past tragedies- that these violent delights that taste so virtuously divine, have their merciless violent ends.

this night will have its violent end and your wicked gaze told it all as it cascaded with Ari’s. so revengeful it was saddening, he thought as he exhaled the cloud of cigar smoke. feeling his fist tighten when the school boy of a boyfriend slipped his skinny fingers under the white satin of your slip dress. the beating in his chest increasing when you smirked, bite your lips on not the bastard but him.

breaking the stare wanting not to stare back, she straightens herself under the sun rays trying not to let him spoil the mood. instead of averting your eyes to the older man, you hold Bryce's bicep; lying your head on his shoulder.

the icy glare Ari returns was enough for you to wonder, were you going to regret doing this?

you’ve broken a vow, but that thought makes you bite your tongue hard in this falsehood. he broke his first, he promised he’d never leave you and he did. the pain its just as bad as you feel the metallic taste in your mouth.

I don’t belong to him, not anymore.

glancing your attention back up to the floral balcony you see that your Romeo has disappeared and serves him right. but where are you the audience touching up on this elicit affair?

well, ladies and gentlemen, let us start from the beginning...

it all started with a kiss.

a magical night that was the grand premier of [y/n’s] latest play, Romeo and Juliet.

you were the leading actress playing Shakespeare's unfortunate Juliet. the prima donna of the stage, the blazing star in everyone’s hearts that snowy February night.

[y/n] was nineteen, open to the ways of the world and at the time your Romeo was a much older man. but in the heat of the moment-

when the dazzling stage lights shone down on her and the audience cheered in a standing ovation as the single roses and bundles of baby breaths were thrown at her feet. as you took your bow, the chorus of the angels above song for the romantic tragedy of a teenage tale to be your reality.

seeing your Romeo, your Ari, grinning proudly from the side lines throwing a red rose at the hem of your gown - your heart pounded in this truth/

the romantically tragic tale was surely real when he snuck into her dressing room.

a bouquet of red roses in his hands asking her if she would like to take a stroll with him. when their eyes danced and fingers laced within each other as they walked towards the candlelit park. covering her with his own black trench coat over her revealing costume when the cold winds of January seared their cheeks. their lips met each other under a streetlamp as snow began to powder above them.

that kiss was the tipping domino that shattered their flirty student-tutor relationship into a secret scandalous affair. the visits between them only began after that, both Ari and [y/n] always either announced a date with a letter informing them or a surprise visit.

one of her favorite surprises, especially when it came to Ari- has been engraved in her memories for eons to come.

maybe it wasn’t as sweet and virtuous as [y/n] Beaudelaire dreamed of and remembered, but how can it not be when she felt like she was in heaven.

how could something be sin when it feels holy at the first touch?

it might be the endeavor of the Devil cause she still feels the temptation of his large warm hands. groping and grasping the powder blue lace of her nightie that wrapped the smooth skin of her waist on that warm pink honeysuckle June night.

a naughty moan erupted from her and a deep groan against him. [y/n] could taste the bitterly addicting taste of honeyed whiskey on his dazzling smile and couldn’t help at all but to pull onto his loose velvet tie. shamelessly whining and urging him to come closer as she unbuttoned his shirt, roaming her hands on his sculptured muscled chest.

reality has withered into a forgotten thought for dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. although they both know an important figure as Mr. Levinson shouldn’t have been in her room. let alone cup the petal soft cheeks of [y/n] Beaudelaire as he kissed her harder, dancing his tongue with hers.

desire, desire, desire...

how she had desired - longed to feel his strong arms around her waist, his satin locks through her fingers, his muscled golden skinned everything against her. a thought struck her - what if her father and mother were to walk in any second?

both home early from their business trips? simple, all hell would break loose- figuratively and literally, although how could this not make her swoon more.

the danger and chaos incited the princess, she felt like a precious Juliet.

yet [y/n] couldn’t stop at the threat, couldn’t help the mesmerizing feeling of her plump warm lips against his sweet tasting ones. how he was her first kiss conflicted with the older man, it seemed she had much more experience than she was letting on.

danger and pleasure mix well, especially when Ari Levinson was pumping his throbbing hard cock into the tight virgin hole of [y/n] Beaudelaire. gripping the religious brooch of his golden chain in the palm of her hand, he continued to pump deep in and out of her. symphonies of moans and sighs adorned their blissful bubble waiting and urging to be popped.

whispering praises and soothing the dear girl as hot tears streamed from her eyes. kissing her temple telling her how well she did and how he loved her.

all while the droplets of blood curled with the puddle of nectar underneath their locked connection, soaking her rumpled Egyptian cotton sheets. his tempered hands gently caressed the curves of her summer ripe body, sucking her rose budded breasts and licking her honey slicked core.

the magical spell that she was under, the thrilling sin enfolding as he held the key to her own wrecking. how it felt so fucking goddamn right to straddle his lap and allow him to leave the dark cherry wine lovebites on her neck. ravishing in the sinfully divine reflections in his eyes, she flourished on their next encounter.

being this an unvarnished truth, it wasn’t just a kiss as you all know now. but the intensity, the pure desire radiating them both that full moon night as they ‘made love’ questioned dear [y/n] Beaudelaire whether or not it was an event she would regret for the rest of her days.

conflicts her presently as she stares down on her food, not allowing the elements of the present to interfere to connect to that corrupt heaven.

“promise me you’ll never forget this, forget me,” out of breath, you shushed in his ear and he stopped sucking the skin of her collarbones and gripping her rear entirely.

angling his face to meet hers, he examines his artwork- her ruby lips now pouty, being overworked from crashing his lips to hers. the blooming hickies covering her neck, collarbones, and breasts like springtime poppies.

the sweaty bare sunkissed skin of her naked body underneath him and her leaking honey cascading with his salty brim coats both their inner thighs is nothing but aerial piety.

noting the tears that glazed your eyes- the dear girl has never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable to heartbreak in her life. two droplet streams slip from her eyes and Ari’s heart weeps.

his precious princess being teary eyed will not do, not if he could help it.

lifting her on his lap, he raises his warm hands to cup her cheeks. wiping the tears with his thumbs, erasing their short lived existence before softly pressing his lips to hers. keeping his hands in place as she grips the silky hair that drops onto the back of his neck.

“how could I ever forget you? my angel, you are purely unforgettable. never ever forget it,” he hushes as he glides his thumb against her lips and onto her cheekbone.

he releases one hand to dig into his trouser pockets and reveals a shimmering piece that sparkles and shines in the moonlight, a heart locket. “when you wear this, i’ll know that your heart belongs to me. that I am worthy to have a place in your heart.” he glides his fingers around her throat, moving her hair to the side as he clicks the gold in place.

looking down on the locket, her fingers wrapping it close. “even without this pendent, my heart will always belong to you.”

beaming at the sight of you in his gift his heart is off to the races. you belong amongst the lavish pearl, blush pink and fanciful moonshine strokes of Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s signature paintings. the posh gold necklace rests securely around your lower neck and the promising pendant tips a luscious glossy glow upon her breasts.

she truly is art, to be seen and adored by everyone but only touched and worshiped by him/

“tell me daddy, please tell me i’m yours,” you sighed heavily, bust along with the locket lifting against Ari’s chest as you move her face even closer to his.

“no doll, daddy’s yours.” her giggle, a classical melody to his ears as she kisses him again sweetly.

he returns more passionately but stops immediately for the ding dong of the old grandfather clock announces the twelfth hour of the night, surprising as well as startling the girl. “it’s getting late, I can’t stay for long.” he quietly hushes, his voice slightly raspy causing [y/n’s] inner demons lustfully scream but she pouts and carps.

he’s leaving so soon, always so soon.

“don’t frown, pretty girl. we had to stop at some point.” he smirks as he picks up his shirt from the floor, buttoning it up swiftly.

getting up from your bed to find his belt from under it, he walks by the blue lace he stripped you of much earlier in the night. fitting the leather with his belt loops he zips up his pants, looking to the small table aside your bed he see’s his tie missing among your things.

judging from the small giggle that escapes your cheeky smirk he turns to you and opens an outreached hand. the tie as he predicted is in your hands, yet you keep it clenched against your chest looking at him as if you aren’t keeping anything from him.

though with the raise of an eyebrow and the other hand of his that softly yet firmly grabbing your jaw makes you question yourself if this trickery was a good idea, “It isn’t kind to take daddy's things, princess,”

the comment leaves your smirk dropping and a pout to form.

Ari always kills your teasing games with gentle kindness, always had the patience for your devious fairy like temper. his authorized stance was a killjoy but he held the discipline you lacked that helped balance your relationship.

rolling your eyes you give him his tie, which he takes after giving a subtle kiss to your knuckles. “good girl,” your core clenches at those words.

Ari has the right mixture of dominance and softness that made the cocoons in your stomach break free. the fluttering butterflies of lust flying to your heart and heading down to soak your already sore core.

hungry hands wander his muscled body, feeling and drinking everything in. playful eyes saunter down and lock on the front gaping tent of his pants. catching were your eyes lock on Ari smirks to himself, his dirty little girl.

he knows exactly what you’re thinking, purely naughty you are.

“my eyes are up here, angel,” and with that remark your eyes snap to his eager blue and you feel your face heating up.

the delicious ache between your legs from the previous adrenaline filled thrusts and pumps of Ari’s hips smashing into yours is like a VCR tape on repeat in your mind. leaving you bashfully smiling and shivering in cordial delight as you feel his white syrup drip from your puffy crux.

biting your bottom lip, however you aren’t at all shy to sit up over your plush pink comforter and grab his shirt needily. averting his eyes on you as you cup his bearded cheek. your eyes turn to wet glass and Ari is scared you might shatter into tears again, but your angelic smile makes him think otherwise and your holy wicked giggles do most for his growing erection.

the very things you do to him, he will never be able to explain in words.

“promise i’ll see you again, Ari. promise me we’ll have more nights like this,” lips ghosting over his purposely.

those same wandering hands slide over his chest slowly, working down exploring the front of his pants. rubbing the tent with rapacious fingertips he moans under your touch. if this feeling of intimacy was a type of bait they’re both now hooked.

“undoubtedly princess,” he keenly moans as he leans into your spit slicked lips yet you pull away giggling. “oh no, you don’t.” he suddenly grabs your waist and lifts you up from the cream sheets of your four poster bed. carrying you bridal style as he twirls you around your pale pink bedroom.

wrapping your arms around his neck you burst into a fit of hushed giggles, Ari smiles to himself.

such a darling princess, he thinks again, his darling princess

setting her back down on her bed he tucks her in and pecks her nose, caressing her lovebiten gold lace adorned neck. “my dove, i’ll see you tomorrow. for now is best you sleep.” he whispers breath warm against your lips he pulls away. turning his body to reach the secret doorway until-

“must you go? please stay, please,” you sit up, holding his face in your hands as he looks down at you.

tinges of sadness and tones of sleepiness shade deep in your eyes and Ari feels his heartstrings vibrating. how could he even think of letting you sleep alone? wouldn’t be a justified thing for him to take your purity, make love to you and leave you bare and cold all alone.

eyes shined bright as you looked up at him, so sweet and angelic and waiting for his response. he was unsure, of course his heart sang that he wanted to stay. yet questioned himself as to why he let himself corrupt your angel kin, why he allowed himself to fall in love with you. dreamt every night for you to warm the empty cold spot on his bed.

dreamt of making you his.

the killing absence is a tell.

Ari wants to stay, oh how he wants to stay.

although he is scared, terrified- that once he lays on your bed with the comfort of your warm sleeping body against his, he won’t ever be able leave.

terrified that all conscious awareness of knowing this love is forbidden will be erased cause he won’t care. as long as he feels your heart beat against his when he shuts his eyelids. terrified that this may be all a dream and he’ll wake up in his bed alone with you not by his side.

you can notice the troubling hesitation, even when his eyes are on you his mind is somewhere else. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down on you until his clothed body is pressed softly against your bare one. until your eyelashes flutter against each other, until your lips feel each others breath.

“please, stay,” your whisper soft and airy, your face as well as the pendent ravishing in complete beauty and elegance.

you are truly his, and he will never let you go

with that he doesn’t answer because he’s taking off his clothes again till he is bare and vulnerable just like you. picking up your sheets he slips next to you. “come, my dove,” he hushes and you shuffle against the sheets to lay on him.

each of your legs on the opposite of his sides, your naked breasts pressed against his warm lifting chest. damp face still parallel to his he sees a tear leak from your eye and hear a small sniffle.

“what’s wrong?” hand at the back of your neck he pulls you closer.

“w-what happens if they find out about us? what happens i-if they tear us apart?” whimpering your voice breaks in between sobs.

Ari cups your cheeks while he shakes his head, as if what your saying is impossible and hopeless. both you star-crossed lovers should know-

by the fate of the tragic stars above was this night destined to come.

“never. never would they be able to tear me away from you. [y/n] look at me, I would never let that happen,” his whispered voice euphoric as he holds the sides of your face.

hushed sobs escaped your mouth, Ari wipes your tears with his rough palms. hugging you close until you calm down and your small hiccups can be heard. a small smile begins to unfold between the two of you and Ari folds a piece of your hair behind your ear.

you’re so beautiful when your bare and on top of him, it’s almost godly.

starry face, body and soul is just begging to be worshiped, he does worship you. “even if they try and succeed, they would be at a loss. For my heart would still belong to you, forever and always.” by that, your lips stretch in a tragic smile.

“forever and always,” you sigh as your lips meet his in a wistful kiss.

lips passionate against yours, hands in his wild hair and legs intertwined you both fall in the black hole of desire again. both of you know that this was destined to happen, that they was no way to avoid or prevent this.

your heart his and his heart yours, both eternal and forever blooming.

when you two are finally spent and sore in the most wonderful of ways, you lie on your sides. facing each other by enjoying each others presence, tracing and retaining every freckle, scar and birthmark with caressing fingertips. grabbing the red lace ribbon that was initially in your hair, you tie it around Ari’s wrist.

tired eyes going dreamy, he lays to his side smiling and watching as you wrap and finish the lace with a bow.

“it isn’t much, but if- on the account, that they do tear us apart. please know that I will wait for you. always.” hushing, your bodies glow in the loves rays of the pale lavender moonlight present.

pulling you to his chest, your face finds the crook of his neck and breath in his natural scent. “and I to you,” he says kissing the top of your hair, wrapping his arms guarding you in the most comforting way.

“Goodnight good night, my Romeo,”

parting is such sweet sorrow -

“Goodnight good night, my Juliet,”

that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

you remember after the night was more love and happiness you don’t know you could ever feel. in your opinion that morning the following day was like a perfect reverie.

Ari and you were woken up from their lovesick slumber by the sing song of the morning birds and the vivid yellow sun rays. giggled and admired the memory of last night as he pressed butterfly kisses over your hipbones and belly.

wearing nothing but Ari’s cream button up and him in his briefs they had a French breakfast out on the brick terrace barefoot surrounded by Persian buttercups and marigolds.

afterwords they took a bubble wash in her clawfoot bathtub and put on some clothes, smelling fresh of rose water and milky dove soap. walking down the staircase as he had to leave, you kissed him goodbye but he reassured you that he will be back that same night to see you again.

however with unfortunate timing, your parents returned that afternoon from their separate business trips. with greater outcomes than they both have expected, news of their return and latest success most likely cautioned Ari. he is one of her father’s most close old friends and obvious of his return he did not come to the celebrating lunch that same day which dishearten [y/n] but she knew that he would come around.

and he did, time and time again through the end of your first year of college and following into the middle your second year. that is, until he stopped and disappeared from her completely when the summer season went by.

the day you thought would be a nice idea to stop by the private elite college to see Ari. you were surprised to find that everything in his office to find everything of his gone except a letter on the desk with your name on it. you’ve examined the empty room around you, the framed degrees on the wall and boxes of filing papers vanished.

the office clerk had informed you that he was here when you arrived, seeming to suspicious you told her that you were meeting him for ‘counseling purposes’.

now siting in his chair by his desk you opened the letter with shaky hands, prepared yourself to either be completely devastated or perplexed. slipping the letter out and forced yourself to take a deep breath as you focus on the cursive black ink.

My Dearest Dove,

I beg hat you won’t be disappointed. won’t be mad or even put this on yourself, it kills me to see you cry.

I didn’t have the heart to tell you this sooner and with that I dread itself though I will be back in a couple of months.

Know that the sun will blaze and the moon will shine and the planets will orbit into oblivion.

For my love for you was gifted by the stars and with that I beg of you to do the most and wait.

it was soiled with a teardrop as you finished reading the last words. the letter left a sore pain in her heart that was laced with amorous longing. leaving his office with the letter in hand, salty melancholy tears on your tongue and a prolonging ballad hum in your tender voice.

you didn’t blame him for taking a job opportunity over seas as you later found out but it hurt knowing he didn’t tell you of this earlier. so you did what he asked you to do, to wait for him.

the lovely burning hours of wasting through your summer retreat daydreaming of your runaway Romeo to return turned into days. then with greatest unfortune days into weeks, and weeks into months till now it has been a solid year without a single phone call, letter, or personal appearance.

until now that he sits across from you.

the sheer heart shattering thought rattled in her mind that last summer day and with that tears threaten to glaze and drop from her mascara lashes at this moment.

our princess, our Juliet already accepted that it was an incident…

incident be damned.

the man is no ordinary man but a public figure. Mr. Levinson could not risk his professional career to a scandal. thinking you probably weren’t worth the risk in his eyes, you’re blinded by the truth of how utterly wrong you are.

everyone knows that he has worked and had an extensive history with the justice department in the earlier years of his life. eventually in some time in his life settled as a criminal behavioral specialist teaching a division of B.A.U students at Harvard.

when people young and old see him, they see a hardworking risk-taking man who risked his life for our country and to help many others in need. on the other hand when girls [y/n] age see him they see dollar signs, because of course the man had the opportunity to retire, but saw fit that the rank of superior director of future agents would be a better use of his time.

for just that fact alone is the true reason for his previous failed marriage, how and why it came to an end. Hell even you knew that he was divorced, you would see and notice the picture frames of a little girl that was always placed on his desk. whenever you tried to say or ask anything about it he always changed the topic, seeming empty and broken. you knew that the little girl was Ari’s daughter, you just didn’t want to push the subject but he would soon open up to you later on.

part time however, Mr. Levinson was an advocate as well as counselor for Ivy Leagues. the very first the two of you met was the day he was gathering and advising students for college preparatory programs and collecting college applications.

when you stepped inside the counselors office, and took a deep inhale of the incense soaking the air. the soft eye contact he given as you chanted about your aspirations and ambitions. the way he held your hand when you started to speak on your mental and social troubles. telling you that you were safe to speak your mind on any topic.

once you left his office that day, you felt the singing sensation of wanting to see him again. memorize his face so its like an oracle for your mind to fantasize, remember his smooth voice till you can hear it in your dreams. an unforeseen crush was formed and with that you started finding new ways of seeing him, which meant more visits to the counselor office.

you wanted to talk to him more, speaking on topics that didn’t revolve around your sweet cynical ordeals but for but for him to get a taste of your sweet cynical- well you get the picture.

you wanted to get to him to touch you. so shy touching your hand and shoulder from time to time realizing he was getting much more comfortable around you then what was appropriate for him as a counselor.

you wanted to get him to kiss you. during that prophetical freshman year of university when the Shakespearean performance commenced you did get that kiss.

if you were being truly honest with yourself, you don’t at all regret it.

you truly don’t.

he was your counselor, he was somewhat of a tutor at times but it wasn’t at all professional when they had been continuously flirting and teasing each other. an affair fueled on both sides as you two tried on riling the other person up until they had no clue what happened when your hands found each others.

it was nerve racking trying to convince yourself that you were just using him so he’ll pull some strings to get you an even closer advantage into Harvard than you already had.

Ari knew [y/n] was younger- but the intelligence, sophistication, and charm that you were gifted he couldn’t help but fall head over heels.

it was wrong, a disgusting thing to do he thought and thought. but with your consent and the love you gave back to him made those thoughts stop. he was under loves heavy burden and oh did he sink stepping forth into your siren like song.

Mr. Levinson was never a man to settle when he could do so much more, even when the man was ensured with millions of dollars the government owned him in his missions adding onto his current affluent job the man was indeed wealthy.

you’d have to be in order to be around such prosperous bluebloods, where old money and power come hand in hand. these upper class folk think they rule the world and by him being a respected figure, people laid countless loyalties to him.

it isn’t fucking fair.

how could he still sit there, thinking he helped you when he took the sharpened sword of your trust and loyalty to only just stab you with it. through your already browbeaten and broken heart you gave with shaking hands and pitiful eyes.

where you carried the broken pieces of her heart where ever you went, like a pathetic souvenir of some sort that you bragged for some reason. you were and are so emotionless, so deprived of such that you mistaken it as strength. so desperate that Ari Levinson himself helped stitch and glued back together.

all that to just shatter it within his grasp, letting the ambrosial blood gush on his hands and wipe it all over your fucking face.

so rather then turning into the broken clueless little girl you outgrew, you instead picked up the bleeding smithereens and put them together yourself. with the will of an iron fist the burning sensation of your blood, sweat and tears you forced yourself up. swearing you will never fall to a defeat like this again.

yet this won’t excuse your thoughts, you swore that you will only exchange the same treatment back to him when the opportunity occurred.

and now is the perfect time, as he sits at your will to find and make amends.

a spiraling storm begins to unravel within the mind of [y/n] Beaudeliare, she will not be silenced from her treacherous heartache. she will see to it that she will have that man begging on his knees for forgiveness, and maybe set him on fire if it suits her liking.

snapping out of her day dream [y/n] couldn’t help but not sneak a quick look at him, I mean he is across the table.

peering from the setting sun she looks to him and she wishes she hasn’t. the face she fantasizes of at night yet curses in her daydreams holds the apple of her eye and she feels Cupids skilled golden arrow rip through your heart once again.

soft toffee hair parts on top his shoulder blades, dark sultry beard slightly trimmed going in stark contrast against his white pressed dress shirt. wondering eyes lingered onto his wrinkle free collar to see the three top buttons loose revealing his golden Star of David chain and a trail of dark chest hair.

the woman next to him was indeed beautiful and held more mature features than her. if anyone were to see these two sitting together they’d assume they were together but think twice to see that the man is Ari Levinson and he is already married to his job then be shocked again when they find he’s engaged. you believe the woman's name is Miss. - soon to be Mrs - Liz Earl, but dismiss it every time she introduces herself.

asking her to repeat her name saying it always slips your mind, pretending she didn’t exist when she tried to speak to you. thus on the account of you responding you tried to make her question whether or not you liked or despised her.

it wasn’t right at all to be this petty and you know it. you aren’t acting like yourself by taking your pain and convicting it on the poor women. although you can’t deny the connection she has with Ari that makes your blood pound with resentment. you especially cannot deny that you haven’t seen him wrap his arm around her waist or chuckle along to whatever she had to say or kiss her while they lit their thick cigars. with that you rolled your eyes at your sincerity even though you were wrong doing so.

Ari would catch you within his actions and your vicious feedback. he wasn’t blind to your raging sorrow and he wasn’t petty enough to actually comment back at you or play in the game you were initiating.

but he hates to see you this way

is he the only one who sees the tears in your eyes? the falseness in your smile and remarks? the ache in the way you try so hard to present yourself that everyone seems to fall for? what is he suppose to do?

Ari can’t exactly grab your face and kiss you for the whole world to see but he wants to, he can’t avoid you any longer. desperately trying so hard to move on, even now that another women is holding his hand and kissing him he still personally wishes it was you. longing to see you again from the very beginning of his voyage he sees you now, heartbroken and patience gone to waste.

the very last thing he wanted for you, a deed he should have never put on you. even though you hate his existence, Ari wishes for you to simply look at him.

not look at him behind his back or when he didn’t know you were staring, he wants to meet your irises to his. you’ve been driving him in circles as you planned, all he wants is to hear you sweet voice yet he can’t get over your arrogance.

your self righteousness that made him fall for you in the first place

on the other hand, his presence was enough to make you shift and either burst into a mess of tears or throw a fucking bitch fit. although you will not show any sign of torment, not a single weak manifestation. especially not for the man that treated someone of your worth as a shameful sin when he worshiped you behind closed doors.

“Miss. Beaudelaire,” a deep voice rang and you turned your head to the mayor sitting on the right of your father.

“it’s wonderful to hear that you’ve been doing so well in your classes. the Beaudelaire residency endures their traditional status.” Mr. Waldeyer Hartz exclaims, peering at you from across the long table which catches everyone’s ears.

a gleaming smile is revealed and you pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, they will be in for a surprise.

[y/n] can’t help but enjoy the attention, she hasn’t worked years of college hell as President of the Student Body and claimed Valedictorian while crushing any competition to not enjoy time in the spotlight.

from the corner of her eye she catches Ari clapping, bringing a chorus of clapping from all others. the gesture leaves you bashfully smile and when your eyes meet his the beat of your heart flutters in that dear nostalgic way.

a strong proud smile displayed on his face that lights up his eyes in some magical way. the lovely gesture only you got to see, cause it is only meant for you and only you.

though that divine thought once warm and sensational leaves you empty and cold. you aren’t the women in his life no more, thinking again you weren’t even his to begin with.

how can someone be loved and be claimed as such when they are buried like a dirty shameful secret?

you’ve grown up at the receiving end of heartbreak. whether it’s the cruel torment you’ve received from your classmates from your early school years. your parents toxic high expectations and standards they whipped you up to fulfill. to simply feeling broken when you keep disappointing yourself realizing you haven't gotten over your treacherous Romeo.

your Ari.

it’s too late to head back now.

you’ve put to time, effort and power into getting yourself here. it will not be shot down for a cry of remorse and validation. you will never put yourself forth in that again.

“actually, Mr. Hartz. there have been some alterations.” you say, chest empty and heart cold.

“you say? do tell!” Mr. Hartz cheers, while the guests peer their eyes on you from the sudden attention.

“i’m not attending Harvard anymore for my last year. in fact i’m transferring to Princeton, right father,” you say and your father smiles at you nodding his head.

“those individual service programs and essays did work well in the end, and not to mention Mr. Levinson’s considerate word and recommendation letters. it was quite simple to please the Princeton officials,” you smile, teeth gleaming and eyes bright.

“you hear that Levinson! your star pupil will be competing against you in the big leagues now!” Mr. Hartz exclaims, cackling and erupting in boisterous laughter along with her father and a couple other of his close friends.

she doesn’t even spare Ari a glance but she imagines the rage and offence on his confused face. unsure as to what happened but he traces back to the hours and hours of you and him together-

were you merely just using him?

the gentlemen's clapping stops and he looks at you again. you’re completely ravishing as the cheers continue and you start making your mini speech but its all hazy in the back of his mind.

is this some sort of back biting trap you set out for him to fall for or has he been clueless this whole time thinking you really felt for him?

he may have left you, but it was for your own good

how could he stay by your side just to ruin your life knowing that the love you two share will never be accepted? how could he have stayed when the love he feels for you tears at his heart? knowing he can never truly have you?

breaking his vows and promises to you of course, but if this all was a sort of plan of yours. so, has he done the right thing at all for leaving you?

yes and no. its all so complicated even when the answer is in front him, drinking her strawberry rose from her crystal glass.

he still loves you, if it was possible its a galaxy stronger than before. its ripping his lungs and heartstrings wanting to know- urging to know if you feel the same.

“an Ivy League image is to be bestowed upon you young lady. keep up the good work and don’t disappoint us.” your father says and you wince, knowing it isn’t as sweet as he spoke.

with that everyone goes back to their own silly privileged conversations as the dessert course starts to be served.

the smell of chocolate, fresh strawberries and lemony puffed pastry fills the room. plates of powdered berry oven cakes come in varies colors and sizes. trays of dark chocolate covered strawberries and white chocolate red velvet croissants replace the empty dinner dishes.

“oh, [y/n] you have met up with my grandson have you?” Ogden Osborne, the principle of Bradford adds nonchalantly.

sipping from his wine glass gesturing to the shiny blond young man no more than a seat away from her. “he just so happened to transfer for Princeton himself and I believe you will both have some classes together. am I right Bryce, my boy!” he chuckles and the young man laughs lightly giving her a flirty smile.

as if on que, Maya Langely - who has been siting to your left excuses herself from the table to chat with Finn Earl who you recently found out is Liz Earl's son. switching seats with Bryce Langely, you find yourself staring face to face with the shiny blond with the bottled green eyes.

“hello [y/n/n]. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Bryce smiles fondly, a bit too sweet as he reveals his wolfish smile. sitting closer to you, gibing you a rather tight hug yet his hands slip under the table to grip your ass roughly.

the eyes of her father and mother and Mr. Osborne don’t notice this yet Ari grits his teeth in a seething sneer.

Ari knows boys like these, he knows they treat everything of the opposite sex as a chess piece. a challenge in their selfish and heartless games. does his Juliet know Bryce flirts with everything with a beating pulse while she isn’t around?

apparently not. little naïve [y/n] kissed her devious demon for a boyfriend after settling in the dining room when Ari himself stumbled upon hearing her blond beau. hidden away in a coat closet making out between some girls legs as he went to find a room to smoke in.

“it has, hasn’t it? a whole year! it’s your fault you’ve moved away and haven’t kept in contact with me!” you joke and he laughs and gleams that boyish smile that makes all the schoolgirls blush, gripping your ass tighter.

[y/n] and Bryce always play this game, pretending to not know each other. though they were childhood best friends they’ve grown apart due to well, growing out of each other. realizing they had different likes and interests as all childhood friends do.

even throughout high school they both never associated with each other, they weren’t within the same social circles and they sure didn’t have the same friends. with this you’d imagine they never get along yet with two horny and danger seeking teenagers anything is possible.

you won’t ignore the sexual eagerness in his eyes that is overlooked by plenty but you don’t care for him. you do not care for Bryce because your legs lift from underneath the table to slip under Ari’s one pants leg.

caressing the leg with the front of your ivory Prada heels making Ari’s gaze shoot to you when he was in midst conversation with Liz. staring at the dessert options you don’t return the stare but continue with your footwork.

guests begin to grab what desserts catch their eyes and you place a mini raspberry dome cake on your plate. cutting your fork into the lemon cake and taking it into your mouth, the whipped cream and raspberry jam covers your lips. licking them coyly, Ari’s stare is nothing but punishing.

it brings you back to all the times you purposely acted up to just have his attention. always succeeded you did as he would whisper dirty things in your ears about what he was going to do once the two of you were alone. at this moment you’re proud to know it still works like a charm once you feel his warm hand clenching your ankle.

ignoring the warning glare you chat with Bryce, joking and teasing the rest of dessert despite your fear of him creeping up your spine. occasionally, just to piss Ari off- you’d whisper and giggle sweet nothings in Bryce's ear whilst caressing your bare foot against your suffering Romeos hardening manhood.

leaving both you and Bryce smiley and giggly like schoolchildren and Ari sexually affronted trying desperately to hold in a moan.

smirking, feeling accomplished when Ari starts to sweat and hide the growing pleasure from the woman next to him. she asks if he feels alright, Ari’s respond is short of nothing but murmurs and a grunt while he shifts in his seat. keeping the small sly smile, you remove your foot all together to just place it back, rubbing his now solid cock. dipping a single finger in the cakes syrupy sweetness of jam and cream, taking your coated finger you take it in your mouth.

[y/n] could feel the burning eyes of Ari against her but you pull out your signature doe eyes. letting a slight pout come into the equation, Ari feels his heart melt and he wants to yank your foot when you start rubbing harder. maybe steal you away, pull you close in the dark corner of a secluded empty room and return the teasing favor.

wanting to do so he can’t even shift, your motions building up inside him he feels like he’s going to bust in his pants any second. so he then removes your foot giving you the coldest glare that even makes you stop. excusing himself from the table, alarming his fiancé but you roll your eyes at this action. Ari’s expecting you to follow him.

how fucking typical for the man who still thinks he owns you. you will not follow him, you won’t hop along. you aren’t his clueless bunny no more.

sudden clanking is erupted from across the table, to see sight of her dearest uncle clanking his pudding spoon against his wine glass catching everyone’s attention.

“everyone attention! i’d like to make a toast. this year has indeed been hard for us all, but when you look upon the reckoning there we see the clearing of a new resolution. it amazes me to this day that we see the youth taking charge of their futures, and I am utmost proud of my youngest niece. [y/n/n] Beaudelaire for carrying on our bloodlines legacy and continuing to bring honor upon us. ‘here here!’ for our dearest princess [y/n/n]!”

“here here!” the table cheers, raising their glasses of wine and champagne towards the dear princess, smiling and praising for your victory.

seeing sight of her father and mother smiling proudly at her, all their business friends and affiliations congratulate you once again. friends giggling, pecking your cheeks in swift hugs and your male classmates holler praises and throwing flirtatious winks.

the table continuously cheers and Bryce presses a kiss to your cheeks while you take a sip of your glass of white wine. yet you feel disheartened.

all this time you have thought you’d be sharing this moment with Ari. despite its what you’ve wanted, you feel melancholy and abruptly bitter.

this isn’t right, this doesn’t feel right whatsoever.

for how have you planned this to emotionally collapse on you when it was meant to make you feel better? how have you been focusing on yourself and loving yourself to only wish to be in the arms of the man who hurt you the most?

is this how that unfortunate Capulet girl felt? having no escape from the raging love she felt for a person she couldn’t have?

growing up, [y/n] knew that the storybooks on her bedroom shelves told no lies, the magical tales bared no falsehoods. being the innocent small girl she was, wishing upon stars by her windowsill when she couldn’t go to sleep you prayed for a prince to save you.

that night, the stars knew all your downhearted disputes, your troubling sorrows as you wept every single one to them. have they truly listened to you that North Star night ago, have they believed you?

the wise astral beings above know all and see all but are they working in your favor?

I reassure you this ladies and gentlemen, no matter how tragic or wicked the stars may be - they don’t act without purpose.

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my storybook || aka my masterlist!

#ari levinson #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #brattycherubwrites #chris evans #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #the red sea diving resort

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Painted Books

Pairing: Young!Sirius Balck x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 3,297 (I'm sorry I got carried away)

Warnings: Swearing, Underaged drinking, Mentions of alcohol abuse/addiction, Super long

Summary: After a prank Sirius ruins something extremely important to you, so you get pissed. While sneaking around he realizes why you were so pissed and tries to apologize

A/n: Omfg I havent been on tumblr for like a month I'm so sorry I was inactive, high school has sort of been kicking my ass. I hope this super long story makes up for it. I actually kinda like this one alot, hope you enjoy it.

Hatred filled you like air into a balloon. Your blood had been replaced by lava and it was steaming, white-hot through you. Those idiot Gryffindors were going to regret everything they have ever done in about 10 minutes you thought as you looked at your common room. Red and gold covered everything. Every couch, every chair, every table, every wall, and unfortunately for you, every book and paper on the tables. You screeched loudly.

You had simply left for 30 minutes to eat dinner before returning to your homework and now, not only was the positions essay you had almost finished been ruined but so had your charms, Defence against the dark arts and herbology essays. Along with the seven books for those classes you had bought at the begging of the year. There was no way that you would be able to clean the paint off, it was surely enchanted and now you would have to stay up all night finishing essays that would never be even half of the quality the originals were.

As the rest of the Slytherin house began to clean up the mess you had ideas of making a new one. And not of their common room but of Sirius Black's face.

You snatched your soggy papers and books off of the table and stormed out of the room. The second you saw him your anger returned like a boiling title wave. He had just ruined all of your work from the past week and now he was laughing throwing his head back as his shiny teeth flashed and his glistening black hair fell away from his precise jawline and cheekbones. You walked straight up to him and before he could even look at you, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him against the wall holding him there. As you did you heard many people utter gasps of surprise and James yell something but you were defened by wrath. His eyes widened in surprise then relaxed as you saw your small frame.

“You think this is funny?” You yelled holding your paint-splattered papers and books up for him to see.

“I do find it quite amusing.” He answered with a smirk.

You screeched again, shoving your fist upward effectively throwing him back against the wall and jabbing him in the throat. You may be small but you were far from weak.

“Look if you wanted to throw me against the wall you could have just asked.” He winked, his voice coming out raspy from his throat being half closed by your hand.

“You absolute piece of shit!” you screamed, “You just ruined all of my work from this whole fucking week! I'm going to fail because of you!”

“You could just sleep with the professor again.” He sneered Your eyes widened in shock, it had been a year since the rumor of you sleeping with a teacher had ruined your social life and here was this high and mighty asshole, who had slept with half the school bringing it up again. You had had enough. You brought your knee up and as it connected with his crotch you dropped his collar and he tumbled to the ground with a scream.

“You say anything like that again I will break your nose.” You hissed down at him, throwing your ruined essays and books at him. With that, you turned on your heel and left pushing past the group of students that had gathered to watch. Before you could exit the scene a hand grabbed your wrist.

“What the hell was that for? It was just a stupid prank!” James yelled as you snatched your hand from his grasp.

“It wasn't just the prank asshole.” You growled glaring up at him.

And that was the truth it wasn't just the prank. It wasn't your homework being ruined, hell it wasn't even the fact he accused you of sleeping with a professor. All of those things were insignificant to the real problem. He had ruined your books. No, you’re not some Ravenclaw who obsessed over books, and it's not like they were signed by the author either they were simply books. But not to you. To you, they were the extra hours you worked at a stupid coffee shop. They were the late nights and early mornings you had forced yourself in to. They were the reward you got for getting stared at by men twice your age because of the stupid tiny skirt that was somehow considered as a uniform. Hell, you worked all fucking summer. Your whole summer was just dumped in paint by some pretentious brat and his even more pretentious friends.

When you reached the Slytherin common room you were close to tears and when you entered you saw the one thing that could cheer you up. Kathy. Kathy was your best friend, she was also one of your few friends, I mean you were a Slytherin half-blood, you were no Lily Evans. She was also Slytherin and was the good cop to your bad cop attitude. When she saw you she rushed you upstairs as you explained what happened.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter crept quietly (not so quietly) through the halls under the famous invisibility cloak. James stood beside them his head-boy badge shining in the light of his wand.

“Shut up Wormtail,” James scolded, “I think I hear someone.”

They all stopped and listened. With the shuffling noises silenced they could hear something. Laughter drifted through the halls. Soon muffled voices could be heard from some hidden place.

“I think they're in the kitchen,” Remus whispered.

“I hope they’re Slytherin.” James giggled as they approached the hidden door to the kitchen. James poked the bowl of fruit, hitting the apple once and the orange twice. The door swung open into the first layer of the kitchens. They shuffled in James taking the lead they were about to continue through the next doorway when Sirius heard a voice that made him jump.

“Wait!” his whispers called to his friend.

“What?” James whispered back.

“That's Y/n,” Sirius explained.

“Hell yeah this is going to be fun,” James smiled wide happy to catch you out of bed. “Finally get the bitch back.” He began to walk toward the second room in the kitchen when Sirius stepped out from beneath the cloak and grabbed his shoulder.

“Just let me see what she's doing.” He asked.

James’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Please.” Sirius begged his friend, “Then we can bust her.”

“Fine” he muttered

Remus handed Sirius the invisibility cloak sighing, “This better be quick.” disapprovingly

Sirius rolled his eyes throwing the cloak over him and walked into the next room what he saw made his jaw drop.

There you sat, on the kitchen floor in nothing but a deep green crop top and a pair of shimmery silver booty shorts. Your y/h/l y/h/c hair was cascading down your back like a waterfall that seemed to glow in the candlelight. Next to you sat a brunette girl in a hoodie and sweatpants that Sirius recognized as Kathy Underhill. In your right hand, you clutched a bottle of fire whiskey and in your left, you held a spoon filled with chocolate ice cream from the carton at your feet.

“You know everryboddy thiks that imma stuck up bish now right?” You slurred, clearly drunk.

“I'm sure they don't,” Kathy said clearly sober.

“Oooohhh yeahhu they do.” You continued. “They’re all wike look at that tempershmental bitch who cants take a joke, wow somebody locks her up shes crazy, she fucked a professor for an and she is sooooo stuck up.”

“Well it's not true,” Kathy said grimacing as you took another swig from the bottle.

“SOO WHAT?” You shouted, your voice suddenly rising as you did from your crossed legs dropping you spoon on the ground, “What am I gonna say, I'm not shtuck up my mom is a alchohalic that blows her money on booze and I had to work all fucking summer in a shitty Cafe where middle-aged men stared up my skirt, to afford the books that the two ashholes you call “funny” you added very dramatic air quotes on the last word. “Ruined for a stupid prank ecaus they are stuck ups dicks who shove money up their asses for fun.”

Sirius’s eyes widened, he really shouldn't be listening to this conversation.

Tears began to fall from your eyes in large drops and Kathy sighed as you started to blabber nonsense.

“Alright sweetie, let's get you off your feet before your trip and kill yourself,” Kathy said rising toward you. You continued to sob as she took the bottle from your hands and helped you to the floor where you buried your head in her lap as she stroked your hair.

“Looks like imma just like my-” You hiccuped “- my bitch of a mother.” You groaned angrily.

“Hey honey, you will never be like that woman, I promise.” Kathy soothed, “I promise.”

“Your the best. I love you” You muttered as you began to drift into sleep.

“Love you too.” Kathy sighed.

Sirius was so caught up in the scene in front of him he almost forgot about his friends who were waiting for him. He quickly turned and walked back to the second room where he removed the cloak and looked at his three wide-eyed friends.

“Oh shit,” James muttered as he looked at Sirius who looked on the edge of a breakdown. Without another word, Sirius thrust the cloak into his friend's hands and bolted.

Of all the people he knew what it was like to hate your mother, to have nothing, to work your ass off for things that are ruined by someone who had so much more. Now he had caused that pain. He had ruined your books. He had destroyed your hard work. He had caused those tears that sprung from your eyes. He had become what he hated most.

Sirius may be fast but James was faster, and he caught the young boy’s wrist before he could escape to god knows where.

When Sirius world around James saw something very rare in his eyes, tears. They were glassy and full. One cascaded down his cheek leaving a shimmering river in its wake.

“Sirius it's not your fault.” He said looking at his friend quite concerned.

“I ruined her books.” he sniffed,

“We didn't know, it's not our fault her mom’s an alcoholic,” James explained.

Sirius glared at his friend ripping his hand from James's angrily, “Would you have cared?” he asked bitterly.

“Of course I would,” James said sincerely

“I don't think you would have,” Sirius seethed taking a step towards him. “You have always had everything, the parents, the money, the house, the smarts, the skills, the girlfriend. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE NOTHING!” He yelled his face red with fury, “So you don't know what it's like to have the one thing you did have ripped from you.” He whispered stepping away from his friend taking a couple of steps turning and sprinting back to the common room.

The next morning Sirius woke to see a stack of books on the end of his bed with a note stuck on top.

“Your right, I'm a dick, now please go give that girl these books and essays before I feel even more like shit. P.S you owe Remus big time for the essays” Sirius lifted the note to see a stack of brand new books and on top four essays each with the name Y/n Y/l/n printed in your handwriting on top. He then glanced at the stack of paint covered books in the corner you had thrown at him, they were still there covered in paint. Confusion covered him He then remembered who he was friends with and smiled.

“James you idiotic genius.” He muttered looking at each perfectly crafted essay. His eyes were shining.

You woke to a less pretty sight. Your head throbbed as you sat up in your bed groaning, you looked at the clock, you still had an hour till your first class but you were too hungry to pass up breakfast, even with your head about to explode. You got up stretched moaning at the pounding in your head and changed into your robes. You headed down to the grand hall after downing five Advils.

When you arrived you saw Kathy chatting with a few other girls you knew. You sat down next to her grabbing the pot of coffee of the table and dumping it into your cup as Kathy greeted you.

“Damn Y/n you look like shit.” a girl named Emma said.

“I feel like shit too.” You answered as you took a massive swig of the coffee.

“You stay up late finishing your essays?” Another girl asked.

You groaned throwing your aching head onto the table as the essays that you had forgotten about reentered your half-awake mind.

“I swear next time I see one of those four assholes I'm gonna put them six feet under.” Kathy hissed.

As if on cue Sirius Black tapped your shoulder. You spun around and were about to speak when Kathy rose, “I think she's seen enough of you Black.” she said sternly.

“Look I know I was I dick I just want to apologize,” Sirius mumbled seeming very uncomfortable as all the girls at the table glared him down.

“She doesn't need your fake apologizes, she’s had enough for a lifetime,” Kathy growled.

“It’s fine Kath.” You sighed, “I'm way too hungover to deal with him asking all day anyway.” You grumbled quietly to her.

She huffed and sat down glaring the boy down as she retracted to her seat.

You looked up at him waiting.

Sirius flashed bright red, an unusual sight, “Oh um I thought I could talk to you in private.” he asked his voice fading in the last words as he scuffed the ground with his feet.

You sighed, “If this is another prank Black I will break you back.”

“No no no I swear it's not.” He said hurriedly.

You groaned standing from the ground and following him out of the hall, still feeling like shit.

“Look, before you break my back can you let me finish what I’m saying?” He asked nervously, You had never seen the boy so nervous.

“Depends on what you say.” You answered narrowing your eyes.

“Alright then here goes,” He sighed “So me and the rest of us were with James last night and we umm heard you and Kathy, and I just-” He was cut off by a fist hitting his jaw.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” You yelled as you realized what he must have heard. Anger once again overrode your systems and you glared at the boy in front of you, “I swear to Merlin I'm gonna drive my-”

He slapped his hand over your mouth muffling your shouts. “Please just listen,” He begged, “Please.” when you looked at him you saw something you had never seen on his face before, desperation. This made you stop nodding as he slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Today was full of new experiences.

“Look I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for ruining your books and that I was a dick and well here.” He said as he reached into his bag and took out a bundle of books and papers.

You gasped when you saw the papers were essays, in your handwriting but much better than you ever could have written, and the books were all of the ones that had been ruined in paint except they were all hardcover and pristine as if they were bought last night.

“How did you….??” Your voice trailed off as you scanned the papers and books.

“My friends may be idiots but they’re geniuses.” He chuckled nervously.

Your amazement was replaced by rage (again) when you realized what was happening and anger flashed in your eyes, “I don't want your pity, Black.” You seethed handing his books back.

“No no no, it's not pity please.” He said as you turned to go.

“What is it then?” you glowered.

“It’s empathy ok? I know what it's like to have an asshole for a mom who never did anything for you ok? I know what it's like to have nothing. I know.”

You stared at him confused, what did a pureblooded rich kid know about that?

“Look my mom kicked me out last year, I mean not out of the house but out of the family. She disowned me and I get it, it sucks. I just got lucky to have amazing friends like James whose parents are super cool.” He sighed handing you the books back, “I was a dick, I’m really truly sorry.”

Your mouth hung open eyes wide. How had you never know this? You knew his brother and him didn't exactly get along but you never knew anything like that had happened to him. And then you did the last thing you expected you would ever do. You took two steps forward and hugged him. Dropping the books and papers on the floor, you wrapped your hands around his waist and buried your head in his chest. At first, he was surprised but it only took him a second to react and he wrapped one arm around your waist to the small of your back and his other around your shoulder resting his hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him.

You noticed he smelt of mint and smoke as you let your tears fall from your eyes, soaking his robes.

He buried his head into your soft y/h/c locks and he smelt pomegranate and ginger with the slight tinge of vanilla linger there. His eyes filled with tears and he squeezed them shut as he felt your body shake with sobs. You don’t know how long you stayed there but you wished to forever. When you did pull away your eyes were puffy and red as were his. You were about to turn to pick up the books and papers that were scattered on the ground when Sirius spoke.

“Hey Y/n one more thing.” He said.

“Wha-” his lips collided on yours and it was your turn to be shocked. After a second you melted into the kiss and leaned back into his minty scent as you felt his toung run along your lower lip, you tipped your chin upward giving him better access to your mouth. As his hand found the side of your cheek and yours found his hair. You pulled away after a few seconds later gasping for air.

You looked up at him cheeks flaming red, “Sorry I pushed you into the wall” You paused, “And kneed you… and punched you in the face”

“You could make it up to me by got to Hogsmeade with me this weekend.” He suggested voice barely above a whisper as he stroked your cheek.

“Sound good.” You giggled just then you glanced at your watch. “Shit!” You yelled quickly gathering you new books and essays from the ground. “I've got to get to Herbology!” you turned, turned back placed a quick kiss on Sirius' cheek, “I'll see you later.” You said before dashing out the doors onto the grounds. As he watched you go he touched his flaming cheek with his hand. A few seconds later James walks up next to him.

“She a little less pissed?” he asked nervously.

“You have no idea how much I owe you right now.”

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eviestrol · 4 years

Text

Synastry Ship - rr0zu

Hi love! I really liked the other synastry ship you did for me and was wondering if I could have another one with Johnny from nct127. Thank you so much in advance!!

@rr0zu Thanks for requesting!!

Pros

Sextile Moon - Mars: Powerful attraction and fascination with each other. You have a soothing effect on him and he encourages you to be more confident and brave. You feel you can be open about your feelings and desires. The relationship has a very animated and lively quality.

Trine Mercury - Jupiter: Johnny will be enthusiastic about your thoughts and ideas, stimulating you to learn more and to expand your opinions. Conversations can be lively, positive, and inspiring. Communication is open and flowing. There can be a strong bond of friendship based upon the enjoyment of sharing ideas and opinions. You love to learn and share opinions together and can enjoy a lot of laughter and enjoyable conversations.

Conjunction Mercury - Uranus: You guys tend to make decisions quickly and impulsively. This makes your relationship fun and exciting but make sure to take more care with important matters. The two of you grow intellectually when you are together, and there is a true feeling of learning and going somewhere in the relationship. He challenges and changes your way of thinking. Discovering alternative ways of seeing the world and living in it are essential attractions in your relationship.

Sextile Mercury - Pluto: Your relationship will clarify and resolve past relationship issues that have limited you in the past, leaving you with a greater understanding of yourself and Johnny. You feel like you can tell each other anything and you feel very close to each one another.

Sextile Venus - Neptune: Highly romantic and dreamy relationship. You constantly catch yourselves daydreaming of each other. You are enchanted by your relationship and each other. You have a very deep bond and there are a lot of romantic moments. Candlelight, moonlit escapades, and fairytale-like conditions abound!

Sextile Mars - Saturn: This aspect could indicate a long-term commitment and shows a sexual relationship that has the strength and durability to last. You both supply what the other needs from a sexual relationship and this relationship can be very sensual and erotic.

Sextile Jupiter - Uranus: Very adventurous and fun relationship. You seem to encourage each other’s unconventional and unique side and you come up with highly unusual and novel ideas. You don’t expect the relationship to follow all the traditional norms or expectations. There is a lot of spontaneous energy in your relationship. Be careful you don’t get too carried away with excitement and end up overdoing things. You are very supportive of each other and will share many of the same philosophies or at least be open to the others.

Conjunction Jupiter - Pluto: You brighten and bring optimism to his life. He will cause you to question your beliefs and opinions and add depth to your life. You cause each other to grow and improve.

Cons

Square Sun - Mercury: The two of you do not always see eye-to-eye on issues, and it can be very easy for him to become critical of your plans or course of action. This means that there can be many misunderstandings but more so hurt feelings. The way you communicate with each other can be aggressive. There can be criticism, dispute, and generally squaring off in communication. Pride could be hurt by sharp words, and it can sometimes be difficult to find that natural flow of communication. Both of you have strong opinions that differ from each other’s perspective. However, with this placement you can both learn so much from each other, so rather than forcing your opinions on each other, learn what you can from each other.

Opposition Sun - Lunar node: You will become friends very quickly and you can stimulate a lot of growth in each other. But, you may feel like he is more of a parent or teacher to you then a romantic partner. You have different goals in life and living together can be hard at times.

Opposition Mars - Lunar node: Strong sexual attraction, but perhaps too much so. At times, you may be controlling and possessive which holds back his development.

Square Jupiter - Lunar node: One of you will dominate the other. Your major life goals don’t line up.

Square Saturn - Uranus: With this aspect, Saturn is more conservative and Uranus has more radical or liberal views. You will need to learn to relax a bit and he will need to not be so quick-tempered and nervous when things don’t move as fast as he wants.

Square Saturn - Neptune: This is generational so its effects are much less obvious and over the long term. Saturn believes in hard work, responsibility, and the practical side of life while Neptune has a good grasp on the intangible and psychic side of things. Johnny may feel a loss of self-esteem and creativity if you demand that he face reality and adopt your way of doing things. You will have to learn how to blend his point of view with your own to gain a greater overall perspective. That’s the only way you’ll get along.

I hope you like it! Feel free to request again at any time~

#kpop ships #rr0zu #synastry ships #nct ships #submission

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years

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How to be a Queen [Part 17]

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Warning: Mentions of death.

Part 1

How To Be A Queen

There were some things in this world that convinced me that the world made no sense. It was purposefully confounding to throw you off. It trifled with your daily expectations for the mere goal of amusement, whether it be the will of the goddesses or not, there was an aspect of life that compelled me to believe some force had a personal slight against me. It wasn’t obvious either. Whatever it was toyed in moderation, like scouring the house for a cup of sugar only to realize it was already on the countertop and you wasted an hour. The apathy of walking into a doorway to immediately forget your reasoning for going there in the first place, then having to turn back because your memory decides to be helpful ten minutes too late. Or, perhaps, when your mind dwells too long on a bitter person and their presence being within the very next door you walk through.

Then, those strange forces turn their back for a while. They leave you in paranoia and wonder how long they will be gone because you know it won’t be forever. And now, as I sit in a chair, hair dampened from the rain and a fireplace to the side of the small house I think that maybe instead of leaving they wanted to give their old antics a twist.

Rauru Gaepora busied himself at the table, flipping through a book with spectacles ready to slip off his nose at the slightest of movements. Habit told me to initiate empty conversation, however when I opened my mouth to comment about the humble room, he looked over with a stare that clammed up any words in my throat. He turned his attention back towards the book. I pursed my lips together.

My soaked stockings hung in front of the fire and a bubbling pot within the hearth. It smelled divine, which was ironic with the Temple of Time behind the small village of holy missionaries. The heavens were still spilling open outside and the light from the fire barely escaped the mantel with the shrouding darkness the rainclouds caused; night had fallen halfway into the day. It was a wonder how the old man could read from candlelight alone.

Rauru’s chair scraped against the wood floor and my neck snapped up at the sound. He sniffed, closing the book with one hand and looked over his spectacles at me.

“You’re hungry, I presume?”

Without waiting for my answer, he had already submerged the silver ladle into the broth and poured me a bowl.

I nodded in reverence, “Thank you, Father Rauru.”

My numb hands wrapped themselves around the warm bowl but it didn’t budge. I looked up in question. The old man stared down at my hands with a quizzical brow. “That boy isn’t feeding you?”

His gruff voice “humphed” as an afterword.

“Oh, it’s actually quite the contrary,” I said after a short laugh. “You see, I was fairly insistent on scaling the slope as quickly as we could and well – I got distracted.”

Rauru kept his stare and tapped my hand, “Some things never change with you, Zelda.”

“No, and I will take that as a compliment,” I took the bowl from him as he laughed lowly and sat in the rocking chair across from me.

White, bushy brows crowed his forehead. “You really ought to understand your father for keeping you so sheltered for he knew the wild heart your mother had.”

Up until three years ago, Father Rauru had been the religious advisor to the king. He had extensive practice with the ancient manuscripts and was well-renowned with anyone who was even partially devout. In my case, he was also my religious studies teacher since I was a toddler. And if anyone asked him, perhaps a part-time nanny as well. It had conveniently slipped my conscience that he was still taking an extended stay at the temple to strengthen his bond with the goddesses. Every priest was to do a pilgrimage to the Great Plateau with each decade, but not far into his own trek Rauru had made the decision to cut ties with the court in turn for paying religious reverence.

“Sunday service has been rather boring since you left,” I said, cooling a spoonful of soup. He looked towards the rafters at this remark, “Good. What you say is boring will leave some motivation to actually pay attention.”

I smiled. He didn’t change much either.

The door swung open as lightning struck outside. I jumped at the clattering and the scuffling of boots. Link fought the wind and shut the door. His cloak was dripping wet with one faintly lit lantern in one hand. He mumbled an apology when he turned to find two pairs of eyes on him.

“Do you plan to freeze by the door or join us by the fire, boy?” The old man deadpanned at his awkward idling.

Link bowed his head and left his cloak at the threshold. Once he pulled up a chair, I watched him with worry. The cloak didn’t do much to protect him, it seemed like he was drenched to the bone. I passed him my bowl of broth, but he pushed it away – not without staring at it longingly afterword.

“I’m fine, Zelda,” he started, gripping his knee with a vice. To keep from shivering, no doubt. We were in a warmer region, but it was still the tail end of winter. “It took a bit longer to find the stables in the rain.”

“Is Cozmo okay?” I asked in a softer voice with genuine concern.

Link rolled his eyes, “Being pampered, I’m sure.”

“I take it you’ve met the stable boys?” Rauru watched us with a bemused voice. “They’ve just started their training and have already proved to be too energetic for the temple. Please, Sir Knight, help yourself to the cooking. It must have been a journey to drag this princess across the country! I see she’s already named the horse.”

Link nearly jumped out of his chair and sprinted to the broiling pot.

I glared at Rauru, “I’m not that bad! And there’s no dragging about it.” Then, I turned to Link who was trying his best to avoid a mess. “Now am I, Link? Tell him.”

He looked between the old man and I. “Ah,” he paused, “It’s more of her dragging me.”

Rauru nodded as if he completely understood. I bristled at his lack of support but forced myself to settle in the seat. Our host relaxed and closed his eyes, “So… there was no kidnapping then-”

Link stood straight up. We stared wide eyed at each other.

He continued, “-that’s good. Very good indeed.”

“Kidnap?” Link echoed before I could.

The priest opened an eye, “Oh, you haven’t heard?” I groaned and set aside the bowl. Thoughts and assumptions about his words rambled in my head. He truly didn’t change. At all.

“Father Rauru, please. What do you mean?”

Link sat down with a frozen expression. We exchanged another glance.

“Nearly one month ago,” he began, taking his time and enjoying our reactions. “I received a letter from the king about keeping an eye out for the princess. Immediately I assumed it was about your own rebellious nature, but then he mentioned a knight and went on the ramble excessively about fearing your safety and whatnot.” Rauru waved a hand as if to dismiss my father’s words. “The Commander General cleared it up. I swear, Zelda, your uncle can read his brother like a book. I do believe I received a follow-up to quell any panic a half-day later.

“We are fortunate, yes,” he grumbled to himself while mindlessly stroking his beard. “Very fortunate indeed.”

At least the news of being a kidnapper didn’t scare away Link’s appetite. By the time the priest was finished with his spiel, Link had downed his first serving and rose for the second after a polite inquiry to the cook. “I was going to ask about the lack of wanted posters,” then he added more quietly. “The army’s motivation hadn’t declined that steeply since I left, had it?”

“Ah, well. I’m sure the marriage will turn out to be far more agreeable in the future,” Rauru lamented nonchalantly. I stared. Link stared - probably regretting how each trip to the pot seemed to bring about undesirable conversation. He stood by the mantel this time and I almost shook my head at his debating to eat the broth anyway.

My gaze flickered from Rauru to Link and back, “Have I missed a wedding?”

The thing about Rauru Gaepora was that he loved making people wait. Every experienced member of the court has remarked at least once before how the man seemed to have stayed the constant age of being a senile old geezer for the past two decades, but only a fool would assume his state of mind was a direct reflection. He used his age as an excuse to make people suffer further impatience without the ability to call him out. The holy aspect of his person made it all the much worse for those who didn’t know him.

His laughter was slow, “How horribly inconvenient it would be to miss your own wedding! Although I always dreamed of ordaining such a union.”

My eyes were bulging out of my head now and Link stayed motionless in the corner.

That was when it clicked.

The bowl. My hands. More specifically the lack of rings.

“Rauru, I am not married!” I nearly squealed. The addressed man feigned surprise, “Not to this strapping young man that whisked you away from your home?”

Link choked on the broth, turning to the mantel to keep from spitting across the room.

“Rauru that is hardly-”

Count to ten, Zelda. The grin on his face was true this time, the guise of being a clueless saint was gone. Along with it was the distinct laughter only a large statured man could bellow, also revealing his intentions.

He heaved a sigh after calming down from the fit. Link was still coughing up a lung. “I haven’t lost my game, now have I?” He said as I gathered my bowl with a glare.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Pray tell, Zelda,” he started. “What caused you to leave home so suddenly? It’s evident no foul play was involved.”

Rauru’s eyes were softer. His fun had been had. I didn’t answer immediately. Thoughtlessly, I stirred the wooden spoon in my bowl and watched the contents mix together in a swirl. Hadn’t he mentioned it had been a month already? It certainly didn’t feel like it. My gaze drifted to Link, who peered through the window where the storm still continued its onslaught and then expectantly at me. It didn’t feel like scrutiny from him, more like a gentle witnessing. My pulse leapt.

“A culmination of many things,” I swallowed, looking at neither. My reasonings seemed to mount with each day. I glanced up at Rauru, “I’m not sure if I can follow Father’s footsteps like he wants me to. I needed a break he wouldn’t permit. And well…”

“And this young lad has taken up to guiding you. Now you’re here.”

I nodded.

Link set his bowl aside with a wry smile, “Not without its hitches.” I laughed softly. He didn’t elaborate. Rauru looked between us. Unexpectantly, he didn’t ask about the statements. Without judgement or conviction in his voice, “Do you want to be queen?”

Father Rauru didn’t seem bothered by the question. Instead, incredibly relaxed as if it were a simple inquiry. I blinked. No one had ever asked me that before. Feeling my palms get sweaty, I chewed my bottom lip. When I thought of Hyrule’s queen, I saw my mother. Her hair was always pinned high on her head with light curls that were impossibly perfect, wise eyes, and a voice I desperately wanted to recall. It had been so long, but I still remember how it made me feel.

“There is strength in knowing your limitations, Zelda. The kingdom won’t fall to pieces. The Council will convene to find the successor.”

I met him with a fierceness, “With all due respect, Father Rauru, but I’m not a fool. The Council is arrogant and care only for their self-interests.”

But he knew that because he was the one who told me. A gleam in his eye caught my words. “Do you want to be queen, Zelda?”

My forehead creased. There was only one answer.

Before I could remotely think of how to appease this interrogation, Rauru arose. “Would anyone care for tea?”

“That would be nice,” Link said almost too quickly. I gave the priest a weak smile and stayed in the fire’s warmth, smoldering in thought.

---

“Thank you again for your hospitality. We’re indebted to you, Father Rauru,” Link said with a kind smile. Tea had lasted far longer than it should have. The two men had bonded over old scriptures for at least two hours. Apparently, half the time I had nodded off on Link’s arm.

“Think nothing of it,” Rauru Gaepora waved him off. “I am deeply sorry I can’t host you two overnight. It’s such a shame they don’t build bigger cottages for lonely old priests. I will expect to see you again before you leave, Zelda?”

I mustered up a polite smile, albeit sleepy. “Yes, thank you.”

The rain had let up significantly, only a slight drizzle remained. After bidding goodbye, I let out an exasperated noise. “I thought I was going to die. I thought you didn’t read, Link.”

It wouldn’t take too long to get to the inn. According to Link, he had already booked their rooms and it was just up the road. The night was dark, though, and I didn’t care to stray far from his side. He winced at my comment, “Did you expect me to be all muscles and no brains? Ouch. I know I’m just a simple soldier boy, but still.”

“No! It’s just… I don’t know!” Embarrassment touched my cheeks and he seemed amused by it.

“Your uncle gave me more books than I can count.”

I hummed, “Oh, yes. He is a bit of a history nerd. Do you think he’s grooming you? You’ll turn into a little Nathaniel Nohansen.”

“You think? I’m almost positive he enjoys pop quizzes and seeing the absolute horror in my face.”

I nodded astutely, “I can see it now. He’ll make you change your name to Junior. Perhaps, give you a pair of those abhorrent glasses of his. Next thing you know you’re balding and have a strange craving for scones with honey.”

His laughter was everything. I found myself watching him. Link’s hair was still damp, but his eyes were bright and alive. Almost too easily, I leaned into him as we walked. My fingers grazed his own, interlacing lazily. Warmth and delight. He responded without words, pulling my hand closer and creating the hold seamless.

Link squeezed my hand before he spoke. “I only got one room. We’re not doing horribly money wise, but I’d like it to stretch out longer.”

“Okay.”

“It should have two beds.”

I pursed my lips. “Can we push them together?”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

A grin caught my lips, “I’ll just do it myself, then.”

Suddenly, he stopped walking and pulled me back lightly. I waited, not wanting to part from his touch. Link’s eyes were serious. A stoic blue that somehow made me fear getting lost in them. “Can I kiss you?”

My breath got lost in my lungs as I looked up at him. Even in the dark, I was sure his gaze would make any woman, and surely a good bit of men, swoon – especially me. “Must you ask?” My voice was weaker than before.

With the smallest of smiles, he enraptured me in a kiss. The darkness of the world dimmed darker and the flowers of my life bloomed brighter. His lips were gentle, but not cautious of my own. It dwelled inside me that Link was, ineffably, a companion that I would never want to part with. In that moment, it was realized to me that my heart would need to be torn before I willingly left his side.

Even that grew quiet as he kissed me against the stone wall of the Temple of Time.

#how to be a queen #htbaq #zelink #zelda #link #loz #legend of zelda #legend of zelda: breath of the wild #fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #ashleyswrittenwords

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typinggently · 4 years

Note

7) a theater at midnight, golden jewelry, a whispered secret - alfie/tommy (listen you can't post this and expect me to NOT ask for tolfie for it)

An anon requested the same prompt - it was a delight to write!!! Thank you two so much!!!!

As some might know - I certainly know that you are aware, Maggie – I claimed a prompt on the Shelomons prompt fest for the Les Liaisons Dangereuses AU. This prompt really inspired me in that regard, so let’s say it takes place in that universe, where Tommy and Alfie are both social climbing, scheming manwhores.

Warning: Vague mention of straight sex

Baroque AU

In general, Alfie wouldn’t say that many instances render him speechless. This, however, comes close. “My dear, would you hand me the opera glasses for a moment, please?” James hurries to comply and thusly armed, Alfie glances once again at the balcony of The Duchess.

Pretty thing, soft and full of wine-sweet smiles, but Alfie is more interested in her companion. Ever since her marriage, she’s been guarded like a particularly nice bone and her husband, ever the snarling watchdog, is right by her side any time she goes out. The poor, soft little peach has not a single moment to herself the second she steps out of the house and she certainly isn’t allowed to invite men into her box. However – “Oh, that little rat.” Alfie shakes his head, laughing to himself, and gets up. “My sweet, I’ll be right back. I saw an old acquaintance and I’m afraid I’ll have to make polite conversation.” With that, Alfie drops the opera glasses in James’ lap and runs a gentle hand through his hair. “You stay here with the gentlemen, I’m sure they’ll take care of you.”

Considering the fact that he’s supposed to introduce James to a certain circle of respectable friends of his, just dropping the poor thing to go hunt for his own adventure might seem a little rude, but Alfie left him in the caring company of four friends of his and while they might chew on him a little, he won’t be lonely. Which means that Alfie isn’t all that wrong about seeking his own amusement.

At the box, he thankfully meets Mrs Denver, who was kind enough to trust him with her daughter a few years ago. Lovely girl, she was, if a little cold at first. The mother’s had a soft spot for him since, which means he is smuggled right into the box for friendly introductions.

The Duke – tall, eyes like a hungry dog – regards him with a cold look, which isn’t surprising. The Duchess up close has a quite different sort of hunger glinting in her eyes and oh, Alfie almost changes plans when Mrs Denver introduces him as the former teacher of her daughter and that little peach face flushes so sweetly. But no, no. He didn’t come here for that.

“And who’s your friend, if I may ask?”

Oh, these eyes are ice cold. Half hidden in the darkness, the mysterious companion of the Duchess rises and extends a hand. Alfie makes sure to miss the ring, kissing the back of a trembling hand instead. Warm silk against his lips.

“Oh, that’s Lady Violet, a dear friend of mine.” The Duchess is pink and sweet, giggly at her husband’s side. A heavy hand on her round, lovely little shoulder.

“Lady Violet?” Alfie squints, steps a little closer. The faint rustle of silk as the friend presses herself into the corner. “I dare say I almost didn’t recognise you. We met before, didn’t we? At the- the garden party, last May?”

The Duchess fidgets a little, he can see it out of the corner of his eye. “Please, she has a cold, she can’t speak, but – I don’t think –“

“I remember.”

Now, if Alfie had been speechless before, he certainly is now. The softest little whisper, delicate like spun sugar. He nods, bites his tongue to make sure he doesn’t grin. “How glad I am to hear it. But I’m terribly sorry about the cold, my dear friend. Would you allow me to accompany you to the bar downstairs? I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to offer you a little whiskey and honey for that throat of yours.”

It’s almost too much, but he knows he’ll get away with it. Lady Violet nods while The Duchess tries to argue, tries to step out of her husband’s grasp to shield her dear friend from Alfie. But all rescue attempts are pointless.

In a flutter of blue silk, the Lady has melted out of the shadows and kissed her friend on the cheek, then she puts her hand on Alfie’s arm and forces him out of the box. Outside, Alfie keeps up some nonsense conversation about honey and whiskey and lovely pale throats, then Lady Violet pulls him down a flight of stairs into the bowels of the theatre. Here, their steps quicken and Alfie really isn’t all that surprised by the familiarity with which his blue-silked companion leads him through the hallways.

At one door, they finally stop, a silky hand on the doorknob.

“In.” Not all that soft a voice, now.

Alfie stumbles when he’s shoved and laughs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

It’s the first thing he can think of, the only thing on his mind now that they’re alone. A strange rush of adrenaline burns through him and he laughs again, watches as Tommy leans against the closed door, breathing heavily. “What the fuck is all of that?”

It takes him a few seconds to catch his breath and open his eyes and Alfie uses those seconds to their full extend. They’re in a changing room, rows of costumes in the back and glittering mirrors on the wall. The candles on the two candelabras fills the room with multiplied, flickering light and beeswax-scented heat. It catches on the silk of Tommy’s dress, making it shine like crushed and molten sapphires, wet and shimmery. A terribly fetching contrast to the powdered white of his chest, his throat. There’s a hint of blush on his cheeks, softening the sharp angles of his face. His Adam’s apple is hidden behind a heavy necklace, gold flickering in the candlelight, while his waist – he has to be wearing a corset, all optical illusions and cleverly arranged lace aside, there is simply no way his waist is naturally that tiny.

“Now, how did this little costume idea come to be, I wonder?”

Tommy opens his eyes just a little and he huffs, squaring his shoulders. Alfie has never seen him in anything but royal layers, so the sight of his collar bones is terribly enticing. “It seemed like the most practical option.”

“What, instead of hiding with the chambermaid you construct this disguise and go to the theatre with them? You could’ve walked back to London in the time it must’ve cost you to do your hair.” At its mention, Tommy reaches out to touch it, a delicate pat against powdered strands. It can’t be a full wig, some of it has to be Tommy’s own, but Alfie can’t tell. He’s never seen him bare-faced. A soft curl rests on his shoulder, once again leading the eye to his collarbones and skilfully distracting from the unusual broadness of Lady Violet’s shoulders. “And where did you find a dress in your size? Does she always put the men she sneaks into her bed into those? I had no idea she was this wicked. What fun you two must’ve had.”

Tommy huffs and finally steps further into the room, passing Alfie. The faintest hint of rose and lavender. Alfie turns to watch as he sits on one of the wooden stools to check his hair in the mirror. “Judging by the way she opened up, she hasn’t had male visitors in a good while. It took me two months to get there, she’s awfully timid for such a soft nymph.” There’s a little line of silk roses braided into the back of his coiffure, their colours matching the pink dress of Lady Violet’s conquest.

Alfie takes a moment to consider it, the wine-sweet mouth soft and hot, little fingers digging into Tommy’s shoulders, her peach-softness bruised by his hands. Finally, he steps closer to meet Tommy’s eye in the mirror. “Two months, huh? And all the while you planned to put on a dress to escape?”

Tommy raises a brow at him. “Something like it.”

It’s pure vanity, then. It’s pure foolishness. A story to tell. Alfie huffs and runs his fingertips along Tommy’s powder-smooth collarbone, tickling his neck with his fingertips. “You better watch out, Lady Violet, your performance might be too convincing. What do you do if the Duke gets curious about his wife’s friend?”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tommy says, but his voice is light, distracted. He tilts his head a little and Alfie’s fingertips run along the edge of his heavy necklace, pearls and gold, skin warm.

“No?” From this angle, Alfie can see the lace-trimmed neckline, roses and ruffles making up for a distinct lack of volume. Still, it’s a little loose and Alfie can just barely make out the pale shimmer of Tommy’s chest in the shadows. “Will you leave with them? All piled up in their carriage, him not knowing that you’ve gotten your knuckles wet in his wife –“ Alfie would go on, the image is quite appealing, but instead he slips his hand from Tommy’s shoulder down into the open neckline of his dress, cold fingertips on warm skin. Tommy draws in a harsh breath, involuntarily pressing his chest against his curious fingers. Another breath and Alfie finds his nipple, pinches it. It’s a lovely view, his hand buried to the wrist in silk, but then he looks up and catches Tommy’s expression in the mirror and oh, that’s even sweeter. His cheeks are dark, lashes heavy, eyes glittering and unfocused. Alfie pinches him again, watches him shudder, then pulls his hand back.

It’s only now that Tommy meets his eye, lips sigh-wet and pink. Alfie pulls him up by the shoulder, spins him around to press close, feel the trim, silk-smooth waist under his hands. When Alfie reaches for the lacing of the dress, however, tangling his fingers and pulling, he reaches out to hold his wrist, leaning in so close that his lips are brushing Alfie’s, smearing them with red as he speaks. “It took us an hour to get it on.” Tommy’s flushed, breathing heavy. The corset must be tight, poor thing.

Alfie reaches down with his free hand, squeezes his sweet little waist and listens to the stutter in his breath. “It’ll take me ten minutes to get you out. At most.”

With that, he kisses him, tasting wine-sweetness and rogue. Tommy’s grip on his wrist loosens.

Together, they manage in seven.

Now that was fun to write, but it took rather long. It feels more like parts of a fic than a Drabble, I have to admit, but I wanted to give a proper taste of what I imagine for the Les Liasons AU. Also: The secret is that Tommy’s a guy..that’s..all. Idk.

Also (2): I did research for the makeup and was harshly reminded that all that shit was toxic. We’re ignoring that.

Also (3): In this universe, Tommy basically just whores around and gets into the good graces of various families because he’s “charming”, while Alfie at least pretends to be a teacher. He teaches them something alright. Also I’m not saying James is getting gangbanged in that box while Alfie is off to make “polite conversation” butttttttttttttt you know

Again! This was fun fun fun! I hope you enjoyed it too, I’m aware I went a little wild w that one

the prompts 🥰

#alfietommy #shelomons #tofie #drabble #lady violet

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years

Text

Date night (Yu-gi-oh story)

Yugi was excited as he sat in the living room, almost bouncing in place as him and joey hung out. they were playing video games and killing time till Anzu would be off from dance school. it was a little over 2 years since they had graduated from high school, and while Tristen had enlisted in the army and moved away, the three of them had gotten a place together. Anzu was taking lessons to get better at her dancing and had a sometimes spot as a back up dancer for a few local TV shows, Yugi was milking in the money during tours as the king of games and Joey made some modest income as a bodyguard, mostly working for Yugi himself and getting paid via the promoters who booked Yugi. they're 2 story house was big but not too big. everyone had their own bedroom even though Yugi and Anzu were dating, and they had a nice laundry room set up on the main floor. it was only if you went down into the basement you might be a little shocked. it was a mixture of a porn dungeon and a nursery, and it was all for the king of games himself who happened to be a massive sissy baby masochist. Anzu was of course his mean dommy mommy (well when they played) and Joey got in on it now and then himself, though always as a dom. (the one time he had tried the diapers, they had leaked and soaked the mattress in the crib) "So Yug, bigggg date night tonight huh? you and Anzu gonna nudge nudge wink wink?" Joey teased, blasting away at a alien on the tv screen. "hehehe well I'm hoping so.. you know we've been waiting for the right time to finally.. ehehe.. but i think this is it." Yugi said. part of his sissy baby fantasy involved being a forced virgin for life, though lately Anzu had been hinting (OK, outright saying) that she wanted to move it to the next level with Yugi, and also kinda wanted him to take a break from being her widdle stinky sissy and be her boyfriend for awhile. "So what cha got planned?" "well i pulled a few strings and got us a table at that new gourmet restaurant, silver platter. then we'll head out to see that new dance movie she's so crazy about, then I have a horse and carriage rented to take us out by the river for a moon light stroll.. with some champagne in the carriage.. then I rented us a hotel room which I've paid the staff to go and place rose petals down, candlelight, the works! er.. no offense, didn't wanna bring her back here if we were gonna knock boots.. don't wanna keep you up all night." Yugi said and had a wide grin on his face. "woooow. you went all out for this huh?" "yeahh and then some. I'm gonna have to do 3 tours back to back to back to cover for all of this, but it's gonna be SO worth it." Yugi said. " Anzu puts up with my well..you know." "Stinky sissy loser side." joey said and smirked, as Yugi blushed and squirmed. "Y-yeah..so i figured a night on the town and showing her I can be the man she wants me to be would be great." "Sounds like it. though..heh.." Joey chuckled softly, and paused the game, looking at yugi with a evil smirk on his face. "..Joey no. i know that look." Yugi said quickly and moved to put his fingers in his ears. Joey grabbed the smaller boys arms and held onto them, and kept grinning. "what if with all of this amazing stuff planned, you pulled the ultimate sissy baby loser move..and asked to be spanked, diapered, and put to bed in your crib in the basement, while I take your girlfriend out for the night..on your dime." Joey suggested. Yugi tried to block the suggestion out but just picturing it had him making a little tent in his pants. "heck, you could even beg her to NEVER sleep with you, to keep you a -" "Joey stoppp!" Yugi whined, but his voice was taking on it's baby tone. "Loser sissy baby virgin." Joey finished. "ngggh.. you know how mad she would be about that? and I can't just..with everything I paid for all of this.." Yugi huffed, trying to ignore the part of him that wanted to do this idea. "heyyy what if we comprised?" Joey asked. "huh?" "you get spanked, diapered, tied to your crib with a enema in your guts, and I take Anzu out to dinner and the movie, we'll swing back around here, get you cleaned up and you and her can go to the hotel." Joey said. "...you think she'd go for that?" Yugi asked. "welll don't you have a hard time with getting carded at the movies anyways? if the movie is rated anything over G..Plus remember last time you two ate out at a fancy place? they thought you were her son and brought out a booster seat?" Yugi blushed recalling that and fidgeted like crazy. "I mean..i suppose it couldn't HURT to ask her.." Anzu had had a long tiring day, her new dance teacher was a freaking hard ass and nothing anyone did seemed to be right. she was achy and sore but smiled as she thought about the night out Yugi had promised her. Truthfully she was glad he was going all out with this, not that the little sissy loser stuff wasn't fun.. but she was getting a little tired of wiping her boyfriends shitty ass and not even getting plowed in return. 'not that you'd feel Yugi' she reminded herself. Still it was the thought that mattered and worst case she'd picked up a strap-on the little guy could wear. 'at least i won't be spending anther Friday night smelling baby powder and shame, while having to listen to a baby monitor while watching bad movies with joey.' Thinking about hanging out with Joey brought a pang of guilt and a flush to her face, he liked to sit in just his boxers at night and with Anzu on the edge after dealing with Yugi, she couldn't help but stare at Joeys muscles. 'that gym membership me and Yugi got him is SO paying off.' shaking her head she tried to clear those thoughts out of her head. cheating on Yugi would be just sick and wrong. 'though the little pervert would probably thank you and ask for a video.' that nagging voice in her head said. 'shut up you, Yugi is a sweet and cute Lil guy. and he's going to prove that he's more then just some pervert tonight!' Anzu scolded the nagging voice and finally made it back to the house. 'yeah, right.' that lil voice said again, but Anzu pushed it away as she came in. "Hey boys, I'm home!" came Anzu's voice and Yugi gulped nervously. it had been about 15 minutes since Joey had talked him into asking for the diaper humiliation, and to help get Yugi brave enough to ask Joey had poured him two drinks of vodka and orange juice, since he knew OJ went right though Yugi. as Anzu came into the kitchen, Joey polished off his third glass, though he could hold his liquor far better then little Yugi. "..heh..you pre-gaming or something? didn't know we were gonna get smashed before the movie." Anzu said, voice sounding amused but there was a edge to it.. She didn't really like it when Yugi got drunk and mentally groaned seeing the OJ, but tried to keep a bright and chipper face on, as she came over and poured herself a drink. "ehehehe welll seee..er.." Yugi blushed and reached for his drink, as joey smirked and Anzu rolled her eyes. "Do NOT say what I think your going to say Yugi. I'm not spending anther Friday night making you sob in poopie diapers." She said, and slammed her drink back. "welll You'll still get to go out..just er.." Yugi gulped nervously and went to take anther drink, but spilled the last bit out of the cup all down the front of himself. "And dat's why i told ya to use the sippy cup." Joey commented with a smirk, and tossed Yugi a dish towel. "-sigh- My man.. OK, whats your little idea, and be forewarned, I've had a BAD day so you might wanna think twice about asking for mean mommy mode." Anzu said, narrowing her eyes as Yugi tried to dry himself off, then with a little growl she snagged the towel from him and started to pat him down. "ok soo.. I was thinking.. There's always people who stare when we go out to eat and i always get carded at movies right? sooo I was thinking Joey could take you out to dinner, then the movie, then you swing by here and we tag out. you and me, romantic moonlight carriage ride and then the hotel." Yugi said quickly. 'Uh-huh..and what would you just so happen to be doing while I'm out with joey?" Anzu asked, looking over at joey who had peeled his shirt off and tossed it over, to help. and noticing his 6 pack again, as she tugged Yugi's shirt off and saw basically baby fat. "welll er.. I'm gonna need to sleep this vodka off..and er..the OJ is gonna give me a little bit of the runs.." Yugi said, poking two fingers together and looking nervous. "...So you want me, before going out to eat, on our big date night to diaper you up and tuck you into your crib." anzu said, in a flat tone. "welll yes? and you know..maybe a cute dress.." Yugi said, looking anywhere but at her now. "...I hope you wanted to be spanked first. because even if you didn't your ass is getting spanked." she said then flashed a smile to him., then looked over to joey. "You, go shower, dress nice. not you're take on nice, nice nice." She instructed as Joey smirked and gave a thumbs up. Turning her attention back to Yugi, Anzu grabbed his pants and tugged them down, noticing that Yugi was in a pair of training pants. "...you were of course going to take these off before we went out if i said no right?" she asked, looking at the faded picture of dark magician girl. "and tell me thats the screwdriver soaking them, not.." "Yes and er..no." Yugi said. "...come on little girl, you're in for it." She said and grabbed Yugi by the ear, leading him towards the basement. "Ow! owie owie owie! yesh mommy!' the little twerp whined and whimpered, but the tent in his training undies showed he was in sissy loser heaven. Joey was whistling as he took a quick shower, it was really just too god damn easy sometimes. truthfully, he'd been getting a crush on Anzu for a few months now, and could see just how fed up she was getting with Yugi making her waste weekends changing his shitty diapers. what the little dork needed was a wake up call that Anzu wasn't gonna sit around forever and Joey figured this was the best way to do it (even though Yugi was already taking steps to show he could be more then a big sissy baby, Joey liked his plan better.) besides, she really did deserve someone better then lil Yugi. not that he didn't like him, Yugi was still his best friend..just, it was hard to respect someone who go his rocks off humping teddy bears in pink diapers with a finger of ginger in his ass. What Anzu needed, and Joey was sure she would agree after tonight, was a ride on a real man's dick. heck, she could probably even dump Yugi and just keep babying him and the little freak would thank her. as Joey thought about the look on Yugi's face when/if Anzu dumped him, he had to take a longer shower then he intended to clear out the slices so to speak and not be too eager. While joey was showering upstairs, in the basement Anzu was already switching into her full on mean mommy role. "Your such a little loser Yugi., i can't believe you would rather be spanked and diapered, and shit yourself then go out to a adult restaurant. I bet if we were eating at McDonald's so you could play in the play-area you'd be all for it, though you'd likely still end up crapping yourself." She scolded, leading over to a bench that had soft padding on the top of it, and shackles for the little sissy's ankles and wrists. "Yesh mommy. I'm sorry mommy." Yugi said, breathing fast as he got himself over the bench, belly first, his training pants having been ripped off by Anzu. Anzu came around and secured him to the bench, making sure the shackles were a little tighter then normal and making sissy Yugi whimper softly. "uh mommy, thats a li-" Yugi started to whined and quickly Anzu stuffed his soaked training pants in his mouth. she had rolled them up, but with the pissy/booze soaked side out and that was what pressed on Yugi's tongue as half of it stuck out of his mouth, and the out half gagged him. the Lil sissy mmffh and whined, he was NOT a fan of water sports or gross stuff like that and had made it clear but Anzu just smiled sweetly. "Whats wrong little Yugi? are you not getting what you expected tonight?" she asked, crouching down, stroking his hair. "That's just awful. I wouldn't know anything about getting a unpleasant surprise." she added mockingly, and kissed his forehead. "well if you want that pissy pull up out of your mouth, let mommy know." Anzu said and smirked, standing up and putting a hand to her ear. she listened to the little loser whimper and mumble around the soaked pull up, knowing it was just making more of the screwdriver and his piss trickle down his throat. "well if your sure." she teased and walked over, wiggling her hips and tapped a finger on her cheek, as she looked over the assortment of paddles on a display shelf, close to the bench. "Hmm what do you think Yugi, something nice and tame, or something that'll have your poor buns begging for mercy?" she asked, running her finger on a plain wooden paddle then over a black leather with small metal studs in it one. It was right about then that Yugi started to see that maybe he should of just gone on the date, and not asked for this. Mommy was acting in a scary way and if Yugi's mouth had been free he'd be saying marshmallow fluff (his safe word) over and over. Sadly all he could do was cry out around the pissy diaper and struggle a little as Anzu picked up the studded paddle. "hmm? whats wrong Yugi? you don't think this will be enough?" She asked, a very evil grin on her face. "Well i could always get the liquid heat and pour it over the paddle. you remember how much that burns and aches for hours~" she said and reached for the bottle. "if you don't want your spanking to burn and ache super bad you better speak up now Princess Yugi." she said and thumbed the cap open and held the paddle out, ready to coat it. Yugi shook his head no and let out muffled screams around his pull up gag, he HATED the liquid heat and it was only suppose to be for when he was in a total pain slut mood! tears dripped down his cheeks and he pleaded with Anzu with his eyes. "Awww, How can I refuse those eyes. I'll make sure to pour lots on for you princess." Anzu chuckled and squirted the bottle over the paddle, coating it nice and thick. With the paddle dripping the liquid heat (which was mixed at a rate of 60 percent water to 40 percent of the stuff, Anzu didn't wanna have to rush Yugi to the ER) Yugi was shaking his head like crazy and she wasn't stupid, she knew he was pleading with her NOT to do this but damn it, maybe the little sissy would think twice before bailing on part of a date with her again. "brace yourself Sissy." She advised and then swung HARD with the paddle, making Yugi's bubble butt almost deform around the force of the blow and the little sissy shrieked in pain. She wasn't anywhere near done yet though, and followed up with a series of rapid blows to the big baby's bubble butt, quickly turning it red as Yugi thrashed and screamed on the bench, and despite it all his little sword was getting stiff even as he suffered. "Hmmm, thats funny..you're cries say 'mommy please stop' while your Lil wiener says 'mommy smack my balls.'" anzu teased and Yugi froze, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head no as much as he could. he had drool leaking down his chin and tears stained his cheeks, and even his nose was running! "awww, who's a scared widdle sissy? you are! yes you are!" she coo'ed and rested the paddle on his buns, coated side down and walked around to the front of the bench, kneeling down and wiping his nose with a rag. "i'm gonna take your gag out, but only if you promise to take it back if i want. do you promise Yugi?" she asked, and yugi whimpered and shut his eyes, nodding his head. "Look at me yugi, open those cute eyes and look mommy in the eyes and nod." she said and tickled his chin. the paddle was burning his poor abused cheeks, but Yugi opened his eyes and nodded, looking at anzu. "OK, then relax your jaw..yup just like that anddd there we go!" She coo'ed, tugging the pull up out and noting the teeth marks in it. "there, i bet that tastes better huh?" she asked. Yugi coughed and gagged a few times, but refrained from spitting then gave out a weak whimpering yes. "now my naughty little sissy loser." anzu coo'ed and stroked his hair. "i have a choice for you. Mommy can spare your cute little balls from a smack from Mr.paddle. but if she does that, then your pissy little pull up goes back in your mouth..or I can dig out a soaking wet diapie out of your diaper pail. " she paused smirked at the face Yugi made at that suggestion. "the diapie will stay in your cute widdle mouth till me and Joey come back by the way. OR.." Yugi gulped, really hoping that he would like the OR option. "Or you can keep your mouth diaper free and take your ball busting like ~snort~ a man." Yugi groaned, he didn't like either choice but in the end if he had to pick between sucking on a pissy diaper or getting his balls smacked... "Hurry up and chose Lil lady, or mommy will do BOTH." Anzu added, tapping her wrist. "Smack my balls smack my balls smack my balls!" Yugi yelped out, and a spurt of pee hit the cold stone floor of the basement dungeon. (this was exactly why they had refused to put in hardwood or a carpet.) "well if your sure." Anzu teased and kissed Yugi's cheek, licking off the tear trail and got up, grabbing the paddle and making sure to avoid his little puddle. "For the record, you know you're going to be cleaning that up before i put you down for your nap right?" Anzu commented, swinging the paddle a few times and zeroing in her aim. "Y-yesh mommy. I'll get get the mop and be a good widdle maid!" Yugi whimpered, shaking in fear, he KNEW how much this was going to hurt! "Oh, who said anything about a mop.. You'll be LICK it up..unless you want extra smacks on your cute widdle balls." She chuckled, and tapped the paddle on his exposed nuts, the liquid heat mostly off by not but still burning his sensitive little orbs. "No! no no! I'll lick it up mommy!" Yugi wailed and Anzu giggled. "Good girl!" she praised, the drew back and slammed the paddle home. Joey was out of the shower and dried off, in his dress pants and a dress shirt, combing his hair as a ear piercing scream filled the house. "..that..that can't be good." he said to himself but went back to work getting himself ready, praying the neighbors hadn't heard anything. Yugi came to as finished taping the last of the extra thick, super crinkly pink princess diapers around his hips and smiled sweetly down at the sore sissy. "welcome back to the land of the living. we'll have to start working on your balls more so you build up more of a tolerance." She said and blew Yugi a little kiss. Yugi for his part just groaned but lifted his legs up for Anzu as she grabbed a locking pair of pink plastic panties. the plastic panties and the diapers together was over kill but yugi himself when they had first started this begged for massive thick diapers that would make him crawl, PLUS loved how warm and uncomfortable all that padding under the plastic pants could get. At least he did normally but after what had just happened he wasn't about to argue with mommy. "I'm glad you woke up though, Mommy needs to finish setting up widdle sissy loser Yugi up to suffer for a few hours so she can go get ready for her night on the town with a real man." She said and snapping the lock on the plastic panties into place, she tickled his tummy. "maybe when we come back for you, I'll take you out with you still all dressed up, you can let everyone see what a little sissy baby you are, wouldn't that be fun?" She added, , turning away now to go and pick a dress for her little wuss. Yugi blushed deeply at that. it was a idea that both excited him but he also knew how DUMB it would be, and struggling to sit up on the changing table he shook his head. "Nooo mommy! No outsies. Dem i can't make money n spoil you." yugi whined, going to slid his thumb in his mouth and realizing just now that his hands were in his pink locking mittens, making them useless. "well i suppose thats a fair point. Maybe we'll save it for anther time." anzu said and winked, coming over with a short pink dress,the skirt portion wouldn't even cover HALF of his massive diaper butt, and the top half had puffy shoulders and a little heart on the chest, with 'sissy loser' written in purple cursive in the heart. this along with his pink booties and mittens, and pink diapers had Yugi feeling like Such a little sissy loser and even as he lifted his arms up to help mommy get the dress on him, he was rocking back and forth in his diapies. with the dress tugged down anzu smirked and then lifted yugi up and down to the floor, pointing over to the puddle of urine that had naturally, gotten bigger. you're gonna go and be mommies good little piss drinker right?" she asked sweetly, then looked over at the paddle then back to Yugi. the message was clear and with his fat diapered bottom wiggling back and forth, and crinkling loudly, Yugi crawled over and leaned down. sticking his touge out a little bit, he dipped it into the puddle and made a face, but a impatient sign from mommy told him to hurry up and yugi closed his eyes. 'just pretend it's a soda thats gone bad.' he thought to himself and started to lap the puddle up. watching Yugi actually slurp up his piss, anzu curled a lip in disgust, she hadn't really been gonna beat his ass again if he hadn't, just scolded him since she wouldn't of had time to get ready if she had to re-diaper him. she would of assumed Yugi knew that but there he was, slurping down his puddle and as he finished, he gave her a weak smile. "T-tastes good mommy." he said. "..well then, if you like it so much, you can drink it more often." anzu said, smiling sweetly and laughing mentally at the look of panic on his face. "Now crawl over to mommy so she can tie you down to your crib and leave you to lay here and think about what a total loser you are, that you'd rather suffer down here in a hot stuffy basement in thick diapers and with a gut full of piss instead of going out with your gorgeous girlfriend." she teased. Yugi gulped but crawled over, and stopped at her feet, reaching up with his arms and she smiled and picked him up, sitting him on her hips and headed for the crib, pausing to look in the mirror in the nursery. "Your SUCH a loser yugi." anzu whispered in his ear. "Maybe me and joey will get drunk and just come home and pass out, leaving you down here, still a virgin.. a big, sissy baby loser virgin." she added and smirked as yugi whimpered, but started to hump her side. getting over to the crib she ploped Yugi down in it, hard on his butt, but the little sissy didn't complain. instead he crawled and laid down in position, making sure his arms were above his head and legs spread,while Anzu double checked the hands free phone system they had installed in the crib. (all teasing and tormenting aside, when they DID go out and left Yugi in the crib, Her and joey liked to make sure he could be safe, so the phone would allow him to call them, or even 911 if needed..though the phone calls were logged and using the phone for anything but a emergency was a HUGE no no.) with the phone working right, she then double checked all the restraints, making sure they were good and tight, and would hold the loser before snapping them on his wrists and ankles, "ok yugi, test time. try and get free." she said, leaning on the crib rail. Yugi nodded and struggled, tugging and twisting and just working himself up into a sweat, but there was NO getting free like that. "Good. now since you liked drinking your piss up so much, I have a special treat for you." anzu said, then left the side of the crib and as Yugi watched her though the crib bars, she opened up his diaper pail, and made a face, waving a hard. "whew! I should be mad you didn't clear this out like i told you, but it works out!" she said, reaching down and grabbing out two VERY soiled diapers, and putting them in the crib. they were far enough away that if yugi didn't fuss too much he shouldn't get his face in them, but the poor widdle sissy would be huffing their reek all night. "oh, I slipped some poopie pills up your bum while you were out. they should be taking affect soon. have a good nap loser, Mommy lovers you!" anzu giggled and waved bye bye to the little sissy. "G-Goodnight kiss?" Yugi whimpered, and puckered up his lips. "after you were slurping up piss? no thanks. " anzu said and walked away laughing, leaving yugi to squirm and whimper, and throb in his pampers. After a quick shower and a change into a evening gown, anzu and joey who looked very dashing in his dress clothes headed out, with her telling him all about what she had done to Yugi. "I kinda feel a little guilty." she admitted. "I really went over board with it today and hope he'll forgive me." "ah come on." joey said, taking a sip of champagne as they rode the limo that Yugi had booked. "Did he say his safe word at ANY time during all of it?" "well no..but I think he was scared too." "well let me ask you this.. when you were beating on his ass, and making him lick that piss up.. did it feel better then when you normally dom him? making him do stuff he actually hates as punishment for being too much of a sissy baby loser to man up for a full night?" As he spoke Joey moved in closer and then kissed and nibbled on anzu's neck. "J-joey! Uhh.. well.." She paused, an drained her own glass of the bubbly. "It.. it felt awesome..and I was so pissed off at him." She admitted. "and when you told him no kisses, I bet your panties were soaked." Joey added,, pausing from the kissing to refill her glass. "God yes! the look on his stupid little face!" she said, then covered her mouth. "hey, it's ok..admit it..you don't just call him a loser and berate him so he can cream his pissy pampers.. You really do think he's just a diaper filling loser. right?" Joey asked and smirked, a hand reaching out and fondling anzu's tits, giving her the attention that that stupid diaper filling sissy never could and making her feel wanted as a woman..not as a mommy. "Ah..oh fuck.. Joey.." "In fact, i don't think we should go back to the house at all.. do you REALLY wanna let that diaper shitting sissy loser fuck you?" Joey asked, setting his glass down and rubbing her breasts with both hands. "F-Fuck..no..I..I wanna fuck a real man.." She moaned, and then pulled Joey in for a deep kiss, mashing her touge with his. There was a clock in the nursery, close to the crib and it was lit by the nightlight that provided the only light source in the stuffy basment. Yugi had already soaked his diapers and added to the stench to the room, filling out the seat of his diapers with a mushy load that had at first been nice and soothing but after a few hours was making his bum and crotch itchy and uncomfortable. he had drifted off into a uneasy sleep only to wake up when he had turned enough to plant his face in the seat of one of the taped up dirty diapers and had noticed that it was after 11. Joey and anzu should of been back by now, but here he was, still stuck in his crib, still a big loser sissy, and now a stinky one at that. he's give it till midnight before he tried calling them though, and hoped that they were ok, even as a nagging little voice in the back of his head whispered to him. "you know they're not coming back for you.. you lost your one and only chance to have sex so you could wiggle around in poopie pampers. you might as well plant your face back in that shitty diaper and hump your diapers, and try to cum because you KNOW your so called best friend is fucking her rotten." Yugi shut his eyes and tried to block out the voice, to ignore the mental images coming to his mind even as he started to wiggle and air hump his stinky poopie diapies, turning his head and planting his face in the other poopie diapers, as he got close to his climax, the last thought yugi would have before conking back out for a few hours.. was he hoped anzu would keep him a diaper humping virgin forever. the end

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