#had to repost bc my first one had a double answer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohthatstragic · 2 years

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It's Been a Long Time - p.m

a/n: ahhhhh dilf mav. my favourite < 3 thank you to the anon who requested this cute ass one-shot, omg. i loved it c: i kept this gender neutral as the request didn't use specific pronouns!

i didn't have time to proofread this so if i used a non-gender neutral pronoun somewhere pls let me know!!

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

pairings: maverick x reader

warnings: age gap, fluff, sweet mav

wc: 3,096

the request: 'maverick x younger reader (maybe reader is in their 30s or up to you) and since it has been so long for mav to take someone out on a first date, he seeks help to penny/rooster (or whoever you want) because he's been feeling jittery and on edge about where he's going to take the reader as he wants to make their 1st date to be special and memorable bcs you know it's been long too since he's this giddy.' read it in full here

Maverick drummed his long fingers against the bar top, the soft thuds echoing gently in the empty bar. The pilot had come early to visit his good friend Penny, seeking friendly advice on his upcoming date with you. He was currently waiting on the barmaid to return through the kitchen doors, his eyes anxiously darting between the double swing doors and the hard, wooden top beneath his fidgeting fingers. Impatiently, he blew out a short breath of air through his mouth, quickly glancing at the digital watch that rested on his right wrist.

"Need to be somewhere, Pete?" Penny's amused voice called out from behind him, making the older pilot jump in his seat. A grin reached his lips as he chuckled at her question, turning to face the woman in question.

"Sorry," He sighed. "It's.. it's just been a long time." Maverick shrugged, his tongue coming to poke at the inside of his bottom lip in mild frustration. Penny couldn't help the smirk that came to rest on her lips as she strutted behind the bar, placing her palms down on the top of it, leaning against it.

"Pete, I've known you long enough and I know you well enough to know that you shouldn't be fretting over a first date. You must've had what, like... a million of them?" Penny teased, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. Maverick joined her in laughing and let his head fall back as he sighed.

He shook his head and swallowed. "I know, but, Y/N... they're different." Maverick's brows knotted together, shrugging. In all honesty, he was nervous - a complete and utter wreck. He had no idea where to take you or what to do. The man was desperate for it to be the best date you've been on - because that's what you deserved. The last time he really went on a first date was definitely more than a few years ago, so he wasn't really up to date with what the current... 'trends' were.

"Is it because... they're younger?" Penny quietly asked, her curious eyes trained on the experienced pilot that sat anxiously in front of her. She knew he was worrying about making a good first impression with you, and she also knew how he felt about you. It wasn't anything like his previous flames. Maverick didn't answer her, fearful of what she might think. "Alright," Penny smiled kindly, her straight and white teeth poking out from beneath her pink lips. "What do they love to do? Or what's one of their favourite things?" She questioned and cocked her head at the pilot as he cast his gaze downwards in an attempt to rattle his brain for an answer.

"They love sunrises and sunsets." He replied, a faint smile crossing his features as he reminisced on a warm summer morning where you had woken up extra early to watch the sun rise and called him, eager to make sure he had also witnessed it at the same time.

a month ago

Your phone buzzed to life, the theme song to The Big Bang Theory blaring out into your bedroom. With a heavy groan, you flung your hand down onto your bedside table, half-asleep, your fingers fumbling against your phone screen in a weak attempt to silence the headache inducing music. Despite it being your favourite show, the theme song soon got old and it made you want to get up - hence why you had made it your alarm clock sound.

You raised your phone to your eyes, squinting at the bright screen as you glanced away for a moment, giving yourself time to adjust to the sudden change in lighting. Five fifty-two in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with heavy hands, you swiftly slipped out of your dishevelled bed; the cold, brisk morning air hugging your half-dressed figure. A brief shiver plagued your body and you turned around quickly, grabbing the duvet and cocooning yourself within it like a caterpillar. You rushed to your bedroom window, a goofy smile reaching your lips as you eagerly ripped open the curtains, eyes falling on the red and orange hue that was slowly growing over the horizon.

"Mav," You mumbled to yourself, reaching to the side of your now-naked bed for your phone. Feeling the cool, glass material against your fingertips you pulled it close to you, opening it quickly. You scrolled through your contacts before you found his, and dialled it, your smile widening.

The shrill trill of Maverick's phone rang out in his bedroom and he stirred awake, a frustrated groan reverberating from his bare chest. "Who.. the fu.." He grumbled, clumsily turning over in his bed as he grabbed his phone with an exasperated huff. This better be important, he thought. "Hello?" He answered with a husky voice.

"Mav?" Your sweet voice squeaked quietly, and Maverick felt his previous frustration melt away instantly. A content smile spread across his cheeks.

"Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" Maverick asked, quickly checking the time. Five fifty-six in the morning. His brows furrowed and his concern grew slightly.

"Yes," You bit down on your lip, nibbling anxiously. "Go and look out your window." You quickly said, earning a confused grunt from the man on the other end of the line. "Mav, just do it." You laughed.

"Alright." He sighed, unable to hide the amused smile playing on his lips. The older pilot stood up slowly, a hand coming up to rub his face to try and wake himself up a bit more. He pulled open his curtains, the bright morning blinding him momentarily. "What am I looking at?" Maverick asked, quite obviously confused. He expected you to be standing there with a boombox like John Cusack in the film Say Anything, but instead he was only greeted with nothing.

"The sunrise, isn't it beautiful?" You gushed, letting your head rest against your fisted hand, which was leaning against the windowsill. Maverick, still being half-asleep, stared confusedly before he realised what you were talking about. His gaze lifted to the coral sky, watching the clouds part like the Red Sea as the sun gradually rose from it's resting place, below the horizon.

"Oh, yeah, it's stunning, Y/N," Maverick agreed, his heart feeling full. He had just realised that you had called him so he could enjoy the beautiful sunrise with you, and it made him ecstatic. "I've seen something better, though." He admitted, a gentle laugh escaping his grinning mouth.

"Really?" You asked obliviously.

"Yeah, you." He replied smoothly, making you blush. You let out a shy giggle at his words.

"That was cheesy, Mav."

"You need some cheesiness in your life, otherwise it's boring, trust me." He said, still staring out at the rising sun. He hoped you were doing the same.

Your lips had twisted into another bashful smile. "If you're the one saying it, then I think I can tolerate it." You giggled.

"Pete?" Penny called out to her old friend, an amused grin on her lips.

"What?" Maverick blinked.

"I said why don't you take them to see the sunrise or sunset in your plane?" She laughed, clearly amused by the fact that the older pilot had just totally and completely zoned out by thinking about you. Maybe you were special after all.

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea, Pen." He was pleased at Penny's suggestion - for one it included flying, and two, it involved flying with you. "You think they'd like that?" Maverick asked, just needing a little bit more reassurance.

"Definitely. They're always beaming whenever they talk about you flying. I think Y/N'd love it." Penny grinned, tapping the bar top with her palm as if she was securing the deal. Maverick thought it over for a moment, his gaze falling to his fidgeting fingers.

"Alright, I'll give it go." He shrugged, standing up from his seat. "Thanks again, Penny. I'll let you know how it goes." Maverick threw the barmaid a grateful smile, and she returned it, waving him off.

****

Right Down The Line by Gerry Rafferty was playing out in Maverick's hangar as he was making some last-minute adjustments to his plane before you arrived. "You know I need your love," He mumbled to himself, his foot tapping rhythmically against the concrete floor. "You've got that hold over me." He quietly sang to himself as his skilful fingers worked in the engine of his P-51 Mustang.

"Long as I got your love, you know that I'll never leave." You sang back, poking your head over the wing of the 1945 plane, and Maverick almost lost his footing from your sudden presence. The man stumbled backwards as he sucked in a sharp breath. "Sorry," You giggled as you watched his shocked face twist back into a happy smile.

"Jesus," He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it, I'll get you back once we're in the sky." Maverick teased with a wink as he stepped forwards again, finishing up on the engine.

"Once we're where?" You repeated, utterly surprised.

"In the sky." He said, grinning. You couldn't hide your excitement.

Your mouth fell agape, eyes lighting up with elation. "You're telling me, that I, Y/N L/N, get to fly with the Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell?" You gasped quietly, glancing between the old model plane and it's owner.

"I suppose so, yeah," He laughed lightly at your reaction and he couldn't disguise the happiness that was currently shooting through his body. Maverick was thrilled that you had a positive reaction to his suggestion - deep down he was worried that you'd be terrified and you'd refuse to fly with him. "Have you ever been in a plane before?" Maverick asked, honestly a little curious and nervous.

"Um," You swallowed. "Once or twice, but commercially, not like this." A nervous giggle escaped you and it warmed Maverick's heart.

"I think you'll love it."

****

You and Maverick spoke for a little while, and he was even kind enough to teach you a little about his P-51 Mustang, which you were - of course - delighted to listen to. The two of you now sat inside his plane as he taxied it to the runway, and you felt your heart begin to race at the anticipation. "Ready?" You heard Maverick call from in front of you, the reflection of his grinning face mirrored in the acrylic canopy. An eager smile reached your lips as your hands flew up to adjust the headset atop your head that he had given you.

"Yes!" You replied back, voice full of enthusiasm. Maverick smiled to himself as he pushed the throttle forwards, the plane beginning to race towards the end of the runway. As it caught enough speed, Maverick pulled back on the centre stick, the plane beginning to lift off from the ground. You sucked in a breath as you felt your stomach drop slightly from the sudden change in altitude.

"Talk to me, Y/N," Maverick said from the front seat with a small smile on his lips. You were absolutely stunned by how gorgeous the world looks from up here, that you almost didn't hear him.

"Wow," You breathed out, pressing your hands against the canopy like a child at a candy shop. "It's beautiful up here!" You gushed, eyes darting all over the Earth below you. Bright, luscious green trees dotted the ground, sandwiched between small and big white houses, the red roofs creating a stark contrast.

"Yeah, it really is." Maverick smiled, his hand coming up to push his aviators back up onto the bridge of his nose. He angled the plane at a sharp, almost vertical slant, and you squeaked at the instantaneous action.

"Mav!" You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut, your hands flying up to grab a hold of the headset that was slipping off of you.

"I told you I'd get you back," He laughed at you, returning the plane to a horizontal position. As you reopened your eyes, slowly, the sky was painted a beautiful shade of peach and pink, with a mix of lavender smothered above it. "You seen it yet?" He asked quietly, looking out of the window to admire the natural phenomenon.

"Holy shit..." You breathed out as your eyes widened like a doe, staring at the breath-taking sunset taking place in front of you. Maverick grinned at your reaction, holding back the happy laugh that was scratching at his throat to escape him. "Mav, this is beautiful!" You gushed, mouth falling agape as he turned the plane once more, and another squeak left your lips. "Mav!" You exclaimed.

"I'll stop now, I promise." His chest bounced from the hearty laugh that escaped him, his cheeks beginning to feel a little sore from the constant grin stuck on his face.

****

Maverick had landed the plane and was currently taxiing it into the hangar. As he parked the plane in it's spot, he shut off the engine and glanced behind his shoulder to look at you, who currently had the world's biggest smile on your face. "We have to do that again, please!" You demanded, your smile growing into a toothy grin. Maverick chuckled at your enthusiasm, and he nodded at you.

"Of course." Maverick assured you, his hands clicking open the canopy with a soft thud. He climbed out onto the wing, shuffling the front seat forwards so you could slip out of it as well. As you crawled forwards and out of the cockpit, he offered you a hand and you gratefully accepted it, gripping it tightly. If anything, you were afraid you'd slip and fall off of the wing of the plane. "Careful," He mumbled, watching your feet. You felt your cheeks burn as you stared at his face, a little awe-struck if you were honest with yourself.

"Thanks," You choked out as Maverick kept your hand in his, his feet stepping back to the edge of the wing. As he let go of your hand for a split second, he hopped down and held out both of his hands this time to encourage you to jump down. "Please don't drop me." You giggled nervously as you bent down to plop your bum on the wing, legs dangling off of it.

"I've got you, I promise." Maverick assured you, a kind smile reaching his lips. You blushed at his handsome face, biting down on the inside of your lip as he moved toward you, his hands landing on your waist. "One, two, three!" He counted, slipping you off of the wing on the last number, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you flush against his body.

"Thank you," You said quietly, utterly breathless at the close proximity between the two of you. You let your eyes fall to his parted lips, quickly flicking back up to meet his curious blue eyes. Maverick noticed your timidity and he smiled at you, releasing you gently from his grasp. You felt sad at the loss of contact from him, but you pushed the feeling aside, smiling back at Maverick. As much as you wanted to kiss the man in that very moment, you didn't want to be too forward.

"I hope you're hungry." Maverick suddenly said with a shy smile, and you quickly frowned, quite obviously confused at his words. Before you could ask what he meant, he lead you round the corner of the plane, your surprised eyes falling onto a candlelit dinner set up on a makeshift table.

"Oh my gosh," You gasped. He had placed a classic red and white gingham cloth atop the table and adorned it with white china plates; a simple, long and slender white candle sat lit in between the two dishes. Steam billowed up from the spaghetti that was neatly arranged in a spiral-like fashion with a piece of basil placed nimbly atop of the Italian staple food. "Oh, Mav, this is just..." You trailed off with a shaky voice, feeling a little emotional at the set up. Nobody had ever gone to these lengths before for a first date, and you were definitely feeling special. Turning your body toward him, you felt tears begin to bubble against your waterline. Maverick's once-smiling face fell at your sad one, and he rushed to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. A small smile instantly warmed your face as he touched you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know-" He shook his head softly as he watched a tear spill from your glossy eyes. Oh god, he did too much.

"No, Mav, I love it. It's just- no one has ever done this for me before." You laughed through your tears, a weak grin growing on your lips. His sad look faded and he smiled at you, his large hands sliding from your now-tear-stained cheek to your hands, the soft pad of his thumbs caressing the back of your palms gently. "Thank you so much." You whispered, unable to meet his eyes. God, what a mess you were.

"You're welcome, Y/N, I just wanted our first date to be special... I was worried that you'd be disappointed." He admitted with a sheepish smile, leading you to the table. You shook your head at him, completely in shock that he thought such a thing. How could you be disappointed to go on a date with the 'Maverick'?

"You're joking, right, Mav?" A soft, incredulous laugh left your lips and he stared at you, obviously serious. "Well, first, I would never be disappointed to go on a date with you. If the date was to sit in a field and stare at each other, I'd be thrilled." You giggled at him. "And second, I'm honoured to have even been offered an opportunity like this." You teased him as you sat down opposite him, the soft, amber glow of the candle illuminating his smiling face. "Thirdly, how the hell did you set this up when you've been flying a plane with me?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He replied cryptically, unable to hide the smirk that was picking at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes at him with a bashful smile, your hand reaching forward to grasp the glass of wine that sat to the right of your plate of spaghetti.

"A pilot and a comedian, boy am I lucky." You joked, grinning as you took sip of the refreshing red vino; a satisfied hum leaving your pursed lips as you savoured the sweet taste. "Thank you again Mav, for all of this, it was a dream come true, honestly." You said with a soft voice, gazing at the man in question. He shook his head at your words.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N, I wanted to make you feel special." Maverick stared at you with a besotted smile.

"Well, you definitely did just that!" You laughed, feeling the tears return to your eyes.

i hope this was okay anon!! if not, i can re-work it to your wants :)

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astranva · 4 years

Text

Falling Duet

Word Count: 2.4k

Category: Fluff but it’s so 🥺

Warning: Nothing

Request: harry dating singer!reader: he has to perform at some awards and he invites her to sing with him but no one else knows? love your writing🤧❤

Summary: You and Harry sing an unreleased version of Falling at an award show.

The lyrics used are of “Falling (other POV)” by THE cutie, Ally Naso 🤍

// masterlist //

**reposted bc tumblr is messing up the tags & nobody can view it. sigh.

It all started when a friend of yours had recorded you singing in your school’s bathroom during senior year.

7 years ago, you wouldn’t have believed it if somebody told you that you would be a 13-time Grammy nominated artist, as well as having 6 of that very award sitting on your shelf at your childhood home – one for Best Artist, and one for Album of the year.

You would have laughed even.

But it wasn’t a joke nor was it a dream you wished to never wake up from; it was as real as life could be.

You were successful in the industry and if any of your fans were asked, they would say that it was because of your immense talent and unproblematic, empathetic, kind character.

It was one of the many reasons why so many people on the internet had shipped you with a certain English man, him having been only 20 when you went viral and got signed.

A year into the industry, it was one day when you remember your Twitter notifications going crazy;

“HARRY STYLES JUST SAID HE LOVES YOUR MUSIC AND THINKS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL”

“omg pls tell us you watched 1d’s interview with jimmy kimmel”

“IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING! CAN YOU PLEASE BE TOGETHER ALREADY???”

Looking back at that memory, you remember how you were a shaking and overwhelmed mess as you had clicked on the link everybody was sending you.

The video had begun with the audience cheering as the camera was on Jimmy and the 5 men near him.

And there he sat; in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, medium-length hair looking like he had run his fingers through many times, his hands clasped as he looked at Jimmy.

“Who’s most likely to let a woman split the band?” Jimmy had asked.

They had looked at each other, not answering for a moment before Niall chimed in with a laugh as he pointed at Harry, “Harry would let his celebrity crush do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly as his bandmates agreed and laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs in feigned annoyance.

“Who is that? Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Just this talented person.” He had tried to smile his way through the question, but no one was having it.

“You know Y/N Y/L/N? She’s an amazing singer,” Louis told Jimmy.

“Y/N!” Jimmy beamed, “We had her on the show two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, he watched that.” Liam had gestured towards Harry.

Hiding his face in his hands for a moment, the audience cheered as his friends continued to laugh.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Jimmy asked Harry in a teasing manner.

Having had decided to get it over with, Harry nodded as he clasped his hands together again, “She’s very talented and beautiful.”

“Lovie, can you help me with the necklace? My nails are still drying.”

You looked up from your place on the couch, sitting in your long dress looking so beautiful that Harry had lost track of time of getting into his own suit because he was too busy giving you a photoshoot on his phone.

Standing up, you reached and clasped his necklace for him, dusting his shoulders to signal that you were done.

Turning, you were met with your boyfriend of 4 years beaming at you before he leaned to press his lips against yours.

“You look so good.” You smiled up at him, “So beautiful.”

“Have to try to catch up with how you look tonight,” he replied with a wide smile, “Nervous?”

“Not really.” You admitted.

Amusingly and completely and utterly in love, Harry tilted his head slightly, “Any reason why you’re not? You usually hate those.”

It was true. You didn’t really like award shows because of how tiresome all the process was; hair, makeup, dressing up, walking only to pause every second, the repeated questions you have been answering for years, how more judgmental the world was on nights like these.

But it was always when Harry was able to be by your side that you liked the night, and the tall man knew it, but he had always loved hearing you say it.

To feed his ego, you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Because you’ll be there.”

“Music to my ears.” He joked, shaking his head slightly.

“Just feeding that already overfed ego of yours, baby.”

“Excuse you.” He pecked your lips, “Let me add food for Evie then we can leave.”

“I’ll do it, don’t mess up your nails.” You patted his chest before moving away to attend to your cat.

The fans and reporters all had anticipated the moment of yours and boyfriend’s arrival, and the both of you knew it.

You were fairly private with your relationship. While everyone knew you were together, the both of you didn’t always post about one another but when you did, it went viral – something you and Harry, shamelessly, enjoyed.

It was why during moments like this, everyone was eager. Reporters were hungry for content, all having different intentions, but you spend enough time in the industry and you sort of begin knowing what to say and how to say it.

Harry was scheduled to perform, something everyone knew of, but it was the fact that you were joining him not on the red carpet, but on stage that they didn’t.

Getting out of the car together, the screams and flashing lights were then doubled.

Harry closed the door behind you with a polite smile to the security standing. Bending a little, he adjusted your dress’s short train for you as you looked back at it before you looked up at him.

As if they weren’t snapping pictures like crazy yet, you reached and fixed Harry’s hair at the front, his eyes looking up with a smile as you did so.

“Thanks, love.”

With that, Harry placed his arm around your waist as you walked to the first spot on the red carpet.

“When was the last time we appeared together? They’re going mad.” You whispered, looking at Harry as he smiled to the cameras.

He chuckled, looking at you, “I think we deprive them too much.”

“Let’s give them enough content to last a year.”

Nobody but the both of you knew what you meant, and it was why the flashing lights and camera shutter sounds were then tripled the moment Harry’s lips were on yours in a soft kiss.

“Can we sign stuff?” You asked a woman standing on the sides, “Can we see the fans?”

When she nodded at you, you and Harry ignored posing for a few minutes to converse and meet fans.

“I love you and Harry so much!” One fan said shakily as you signed a paper for him.

“Thank yo- Hey! I saw you in Amsterdam last year, right?” You grinned.

And that was another thing not only your fans loved about you, but Harry, too.

You were no stranger to connections. You were no stranger to making people feel seen and treating them in a way that no fan expected to be treated – a friend, and you remember friends.

“Harry, do you think Y/N will win Songwriter of the Year?” A fan asked.

Harry shrugged with a smile, “I hope so but we all know she is anyway.” He waved his hand with a joking manner, making the closest fans laugh.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll win Artist of the Year?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled, “There are so many amazing artists. I wish them all the best.”

“He’s a humble man,” you teased, patting his shoulder, “We all know he is anyway.”

You were confused as they, Harry included, laughed in shock. “What?”

“He literally has just said the same thing about you.”

You laughed, looking at Harry, “Shut up, no way!”

“The both of you have been doing that for years.” One fan commented with a grin, “It’s adorable. It’s like telepathy or something.”

“Oh yeah, we are telepathic,” Harry nodded, “It gets a little scary sometimes.”

“Heeey!” You laughed, “It’s actually helpful. One of us would be just walking at home and we’d look at each other and know that the other just means something like “feed Evie” or “take out the trash””

“This is so cute!”

“Harry, what are you performing tonight?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” He pointed.

Shortly, you and Harry had to take more pictures and do interviews before you were escorted inside.

It was the little moments that fans also lived for; how Harry held your hand as you sat so discreetly, how the both of you chatted and giggled among one another and those around you, how Harry fist-bumped the air the moment your name was called to receive your award of Songwriter of the Year before kissing you. It was how they knew this was real – how love wasn’t something you only listen people sing about or write novels for.

It was in how Harry’s eyes didn’t move from you as you gave your speech, a wide smile on his face and eyes resembling twinkling stars for crying out loud.

It was in how you ended your speech with: “This is to the man who has inspired and pushed me forward to write every single day. I love you.”

It was in how you looked more nervous than Harry himself when his category was called before you were the first to get out of your seat with a happy “yes!” once they announced that he won.

It was in how Harry cupped your face that moment to kiss you before walking to receive his award.

It was in how you remained standing, those behind you only smiling instead of being annoyed, with your hands clutched together against your heart, tearful eyes, and the brightest smile in the room.

“You’re going to tell me this is cheesy,” Harry chuckled slightly, giving a shrug as he looked at you, “But I wouldn’t be standing here, holding this, if it weren’t for you. I love you, too.”

But then Harry was about to perform and you weren’t in your seat.

The award show had decided to make a skit of it, the host being Miley had held her microphone as she stood in the empty isle beside yours and Harry’s empty seats.

“We know Harry Styles is performing in minutes,” she said, looking at the camera with a playful smile, “But where is Y/N Y/L/N? We know, we know,” she nodded, “Probably backstage for some extra good luck but-” people laughed, causing Miley to pause and chuckle, “But seriously, guys. There’s a show and it must go on.”

“It’s going on.” Harry said from backstage into his mic before the stage went dark.

It wasn’t until piano tunes sounded that the arena grew dim, a spotlight on the piano at the center of the stage where you sat, your fingers gentle against the keys as you played the beginning notes of Falling.

“I'm in my bed,

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands.” Harry sang as he came on stage, holding the mic in his hand before taking a seat beside you.

Everyone had expected him to sing the next verse, but it wasn’t his voice that they then heard.

“I'm in my bed

Instead of yours

Cried to sleep turned off all of lights and locked all of the doors.” You sang, eyes on the piano keys.

“Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes were on you, body turned slightly towards you as he felt like the both of you were in your living room in front of your white piano.

“I replay what you said

Don’t know if it’s true

Left with two broken hearts and there’s nothing that we could undo.” You sang, closing your eyes as you got ready for the chorus.

“What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What am I now? What am I now?

Don’t want to cry ‘cause I can’t stand the sound

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

The both of you sang together, your voice being softer and quieter than Harry’s.

“What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if you’re someone I can’t live without?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

It was a version nobody had heard before, and it was why everyone was quiet, the only sound coming from you, Harry, and your lone instrument.

It was something you had written together following a rough patch of your relationship, and everyone knew that it was more personal with the way the both of you sang.

When his eyes weren’t closed, Harry sang as he looked at you, and he knew that performing this song meant more to the both of you than anyone could imagine. One look at your face and Harry knew you were reliving the night of when the both of you had written this; eyes a little red from crying, bodies hot, Harry wearing a hoodie of yours while you sat in your underwear with his purple fluffy robe on.

“Can I do this alone without ever needing you again?”

“And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.”

You both sang the bridge together, yours being shorter than Harry’s note as you carried a softer tone, closing your eyes as you played the piano, feeling your throat close up before gulping.

He knew.

It was why the final chorus was sung softer and quieter, Harry’s forehead resting against your temple for a moment as the both of you sang.

“I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry finished, putting his mic down as he stared at you with a small smile, watching you in your element as you played.

Managing to look at him as you played single soft notes, you sang, “I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.”

You played the end single notes, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and a bashful smile.

It was like you were unaware to the erupted cheer and round of applause, you threw your arms around Harry, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

Crying from the overwhelming emotions, you were thankful your mascara was waterproof. You called it.

“I love you,” Harry whispered in your ear, “I love you so much.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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thehouseoflamentation · 5 years

Text

Everyday we stray further from god’s light...jk jk

I said I was ok with most nsfw and now I’m gonna live up to that claim so here we go!!!

Btw I checked Bad Dragon’s website and they actually have a model called “Demon Dick” so uhh….yeah….

For some reason “keep reading” was messing with the format so I had to repost this. I didn’t include any pictures but I did include links to what I think the boys might look like down there based on the models they had so proceed at your own risk!!

(Side note: I only had shape in mind while I was choosing these bc some of those colors really be wild. Also I’d like to imagine they’re all “extra large” sized)

Lucifer - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/axel)

That night, Lucifer called you into his room for a little “chat.” What was supposed to be a discussion of the student exchange program quickly escalated into something else as you found yourself unable to pull away from his lips as he trapped you in his embrace. It wasn’t long before he moved to the bed, sat down, and shifted his legs apart making it very clear what he wanted next. Now you were on your knees frantically trying to undo Lucifer’s belt while he looked down at you, smirking at how needy you’ve become. After pulling his trousers down to his ankles you made quick work of his boxers moving them down just as eagerly until....you saw it. You thought that since Lucifer looked mostly human the rest of him would look human as well but you were wrong. Not only was he longer and thicker than anything you’ve seen before but his shape was also…well...unique. After staring at it for a good few seconds he moved your face closer by gently nudging your head forward. The action only made you jolt and scoot a good three feet back.

“Lucifer, I love you but I’m not putting that anywhere near my mouth” you say as you slowly take a step back.

“And why is that? Too big for a human?” his eyebrows furrowed as you took another step.

“Too big f- YOUR DICK IS THICKER THAN A SODA CAN DO YOU WANT ME TO CHOKE???”

“......”

He stayed silent as he watched you slip out of his room, too shocked and embarrassed by your response to go after you. He didn’t think being “too big” was ever going to be a problem for him until now.

Mammon - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/crackers)

Even though he had his own room Mammon insisted on staying in your room again, going on about how it was an “honor” to have him sleep over. You were starting to get tired of his little act so you decided to shut him up with a kiss. To your credit it did work for a good two seconds before he retaliated by pulling you into a kiss on his own. Soon your hands started to wander up his shirt and while he shivered at your touch he followed your lead and did the same. The kiss was messy but full of passion. Once you pulled apart Mammon carried you over to your bed, plopping you down onto the sheets as he fell on top of you. You knew exactly where this was going so you started to strip once you landed on the sheets. After you threw your clothes to the side you started helping Mammon with his belt. He kicked his pants off then his boxers and as you looked down you almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was definitely bigger than a human and the bumps and ridges along his shaft didn’t seem like they were going to make it any easier for you to take him in. Mammon started to get embarrassed from your staring his skin turning a dark shade of red.

“Quit starin at me like that! W-What are you tryna say I’m small or something cus I’m no-”

“Oh you are anything but small Mammon. Quite the opposite actually. I just...I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m out...”

“What do you mean you’re out? This is your room where are you going??”

That night you stayed in Mammon’s room while he was left to contemplate his life in your room. Well at least you thought he was big so that’s….partially a win right?

Leviathan - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/lenneth)

That night, Leviathan invited you over to read some new manga he got from Akuzon. It received a lot of hype before its release so he was looking forward to reading it with you. When you stepped into his room he handed you a copy of the latest volume in the series and let you sit on his bed while he plopped himself into a bean bag. You laid on your stomach turning page after page but after a while you noticed a pair of eyes spying on you as you rested on the sheets. Levi kept peeking up from his book to take glances at you so you shot him a glance and a smile back making him look away in embarrassment. Deciding the manga could wait, you made your way over to Levi, gently moving the book out of his hands to lean in for a kiss. He was shy but he didn’t seem to resist as he let his hands comb through your hair and wander down your back. Wanting to speed things up you crouched down between his legs and undid his belt and pants zipper before palming him through his boxers. Levi shuddered at the contact but froze completely when you pulled down his boxers altogether. Aside from his impressive size the shape of his cock was definitely different from a human’s.

“Levi...you uhhh-”

“I know”

“It’s umm...”

“Yeah”

“It looks-”

“I GET IT!!!! IT LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING YOU’D SEE FROM A HENTAI NOW STOP STARING!!!!!”

Both of you sat there for a moment trying to diffuse the awkward situation until you decided to break the silence. “Well it’s still not as bad as tentacles right?”

You were forcibly removed from Levi’s room.

Satan - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/fenrir)

You had a test coming up soon and luckily Satan was generous enough to help you study for it. The both of you were seated in the farthest corner of the library to avoid any noise or disturbances from the other visitors. You were able to make great progress with his help but after three hours of cramming you needed a break. Since the two of you were alone with pretty much no one else around to see or hear your shenanigans, you decided to see just how far you could push the demon sitting beside you. Your eyes were trained on your textbook but your hand slipped under the table stroking Satan’s thigh slowly before moving up between his legs. Normally he would have protested by now but it seems that Satan was just as in need of a break as you were. He shifted closer to you making it easier to undo his belt and zipper. You stroked him through his boxers for a bit before pulling them down to his thighs to get a good look at what was underneath. You almost did a double take once you noticed not only the ungodly size of his dick but also the curves and ridges around his head and shaft. Without a word you slid his boxers back up, zipped his pants, and buckled his belt before turning back to the book you left on the table and pretending you saw nothing, unwilling to even look Satan in the eyes after what you just saw.

“Uhhh why did you jus-”

“Wow! This question is pretty hard what did you get for number six again?”

“MC you didn’t answer my-”

“Were we supposed to read pages 134 to 145 or was it 150 to 166?”

“MC!!!!!”

“Shhhh! Satan we’re in a library it's rude to yell”

This went on for a while until the two of you eventually went back to studying, forgetting the events that previously unfolded.

Asmodeus - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/spritz)

You and Asmo had the day off so you spent it at the mall. After getting your hair and nails done at a salon the two of you went to Majolish to find some new outfits. You searched through racks of clothing until your cart was full but before you could buy anything you had to make sure they fit first. As you brought your clothes into the dressing room you pulled on the door but before it could shut you felt a hand stop it mid-swing, preventing it from closing. It was Asmo. He held his pointer finger against his lips to quiet you before slipping into the cramped stall with you. “Today’s been great and all MC but how about we make it even better?” his warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered but that didn’t stop you from nodding in agreement with his desires. There was a chance someone could spot you so you both tried to speed things up before someone noticed. You removed your shirt and guided Asmo’s hands back to your chest letting him play with your nipples while you palmed him through his pants. Neither of you could wait any longer so you got on your knees and started removing his pants and boxers. You were prepared to fuck but you weren’t prepared to see....that. For the Avatar of Lust his cock was certainly intimidating in both size and shape. It wasn’t quite human in appearance either which was pretty evident at first glance.

“Alright MC now just- hey wait! Where are you going?? MC?!?!!”

Before you could even think about how to fit his cock inside of you, you grabbed your shirt, slipped it back on, and sprint-walked out of the dressing room as quickly and quietly as you could, leaving Asmo behind.

Beelzebub - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/clayton)

There was no doubt about it. Beelzebub was one of the biggest and strongest among the brothers but you wanted to see for yourself just how “big” he could really get. After dinner that night, you slipped into Beel’s room with a bowl of ice cream you snuck from the kitchen. You offered to give him some with the condition that you got to feed him. Needless to say he agreed and was honestly enjoying himself until you “accidentally” shifted causing the bowl to slip out of your hands and the ice cream to spill onto your chest and shirt. Beel looked sad for a second because of his ice cream but after seeing the smirk that was slowly spreading across your face he soon understood everything. “You were planning this weren’t you?” Your smirk only grew larger once you heard those words. “Well since my shirt is dirty I might as well take it off~” you lifted your shirt over your head and threw it into the corner of the room leaving your chest exposed, some melted ice cream still dripping down your skin. Beel licked his lips before leaning in to taste you, letting his tongue roam over every curve. Before he moved down between your legs you decided you wanted to get a taste of him too so you pushed him onto his back and started undoing his belt and zipper before eagerly sliding down his pants and boxers. Your jaw almost hit the floor. You knew he was big but this? This was insane!! You couldn’t even wrap your hand around his shaft completely!!! And as if his size wasn’t intimidating enough he also had bumps and ridges along the sides of his cock too!! Your body was ready to nope the fuck out of there so without thinking you slipped your stained shirt back on and found yourself ready to exit Beel’s room, hand already on the door knob.

“Uhh MC? Where are you going? I’m right here!” Beel was still on his back confused as all heck.

“I’m just….gonna get you a replacement ice cream I’ll be back...”

Once you shut the door Beel could have sworn he heard the sound of sprinting. He didn’t see you for the rest of the night but he did find a bowl of ice cream at his doorstep.

Belphegor - (https://bad-dragon.com/products/sleipnir)

You knew Belphegor hated being woken up more than anything but you hoped that he would make an exception just this once. He didn’t seem opposed to sharing the bed either out of fondness for you or from being too tired to care. You curled yourself around him, nuzzling his back while your hands slowly traveled up his shirt. Your fingers eventually worked their way up to play with his chest and nipples. Belphegor couldn’t ignore your presence anymore so instead he was going to make sure you made it worth his time. He rolled over onto his back and positioned you so you would be on top of him. Belphegor wasn’t usually the type to rush sex but he was exhausted after going through classes that day and the fact that you woke him up wasn’t exactly a good thing either. Not wanting to waste much time he grabbed your waist and started grinding against you only stopping for a moment to remove his pants and boxers. You were about to lower yourself onto him until you noticed just how big he was. His length and girth were above that of a human, not to mention he had a number of bumps and ridges along his shaft. There was no way you were about to impale yourself on that so instead you rolled off of him and wrapped yourself in a blanket burrito with your face turned away from him.

“Y’know Belphie it's late, your tired, I’m tired, maybe we should just go sleep RIGHT NOW ”

“Wha- after you spent all that time trying to-mMPH!!” you threw a pillow at his face denying him the chance to finish his sentence.

“CAN’T HEAR YOU I’M SLEEPING!!!!”

Belphie was confused and irritated that you riled him up for nothing but at least he could sleep now.

#obey me!#shall we date #shall we date?#lemon lime demon time #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #ask #obey me! scenario #scenario #dummy thicc demon dicc

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Breath Control Chapter Two

here’s chapter two... unfortunately had to repost these first three chapters bc Tumblr deleted them or something!!

TWO

“Feyre. Have you done any work for the past hour we have been sitting here?”

Elain’s voice barely managed to penetrate my thoughts. I looked down at my textbook and shook my head. I had very bad cases of a hangover and a sour stomach. And embarrassment. And a broken heart.

Thriving.

“Will you please just talk to me?”

I’d met Elain at the library an hour ago, both of us planning to get some serious homework done before the week got started. I’d managed to tell Elain a little of what had happened last night but she hadn’t pried until now.

“I don’t think I can talk about it.”

She huffed out a breath. “Feyre. If anyone knows what it feels like to have a broken heart, it would be me. So maybe I could help if you’d just talk to me.”

That’s right. Elain’s ex-boyfriend, Grayson, had broken up with her unexpectedly over the summer. Elain, positive he would be the man she married, and subsequently being denied admissions to the nursing schools she was trying to get into for grad school, had been in bad shape for a couple of months. I wasn’t sure if she was really okay now, or if she was just better at hiding it. She’d attended Mortal University for her undergraduate degree and had wanted to stay there for her masters--and hadn’t gotten in. Luckily she’d applied to Prythian’s school and had been accepted, but it wasn’t where she had wanted to end up at all. Away from her friends and our father, she’d started nursing school at the same time I’d started my sophomore year and I was pretty sure I was her only friend.

Looked like she was my only friend, too.

I sighed. Then explained. Tamlin and Ianthe all over each other. My public humiliation. And Rhys, unexpectedly driving me home and taking care of me, which was probably the most unexplainable part of the entire night. I hated it, but Tamlin’s behavior had hurt me but not surprised me. I’d barely said two words to Rhys the entire time I’d been at Prythian. We had a big swim team, about sixty people strong. Rhys and his friends--Cassian, Amren, Azriel, and Mor--were all in the middle distance group. Tamlin and Ianthe were sprinters. I swam distance, for the most part. The different training groups and large numbers made it difficult to bond with every single team member, so I didn’t know Rhys or his group at all.

“Are you talking about Rhysand Night? That boy is hot.”

I did a double-take. That was a very brazen statement coming from Elain. “When have you ever even seen him?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve been to your swim meets, you know. It’s easy to tell who has the best body and face from the stands.”

I groaned. “He saw me puke, Elain! I drunkenly poured my heart out to him. He must think I’m some kind of idiot. And now I am friendless on the team. Friendless. Especially after Rhys tells all his friends how pathetic I am.” I leaned over and put my face on my textbook. “I should quit now and cut my losses.”

Elain whacked me on the arm. “You most certainly will not quit! That beautiful boy was just--”

“Feyre?”

I stilled. If I hadn’t recognized that voice last night, I definitely did now. Positive my cheeks were a flaming red, I slowly sat up.

“Hey, Rhys,” I said meekly, my hand coming up in a very awkward wave. I shoved it back down.

“You ladies talking about beautiful boys? Surely no one around here, right?” He asked smoothly, folding his arms and leaning against a bookshelf.

Thank God Elain blushed for me. “Nobody you’d know.”

He raised his brows and I prayed he hadn’t heard anything else. “Hey, I was going to text you. . . Then I realized I didn’t have your number. You left your wallet in my car last night… I didn’t find it until this morning. It’s in my backpack. I can go grab it and bring it to you.”

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even realized it was gone. “No, no, I’ll come with you. You don’t have to make another trip.” And ignoring his protests I jumped up and took off through the shelves. For some reason, I didn’t want him anywhere near Elain when she was casually throwing about the word “beautiful.” I scoffed. He wasn’t that attractive.

I was halfway through the stacks when I realized I didn’t actually know where I was going. “Uh…”

“All my friends are over there. Are you sure you don’t want me to just grab it for you and bring it to you here?”

I stopped in my tracks. I had the feeling he knew I wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right now. A mood I had been in for the past few months, but. . . I blew out a breath. “Um. Yeah. Thank you.”

He squeezed past me, and for a moment I found myself so close to him I could feel his body heat as he turned and sidestepped through the narrow space between me and the shelves. I could have sworn he was holding his breath as he passed, and I had to crane my neck to see his face. Our eyes met. I shivered.

Then he was gone. I blew out another breath and slumped against the shelf behind me. What was wrong with me? I’d been broken up with Tamlin for less than twenty-four hours and I was already noticing other guys. Disgusted with myself, I stared at the titles across from me.

Rhys was back in less than a minute, my wallet in his outstretched hand. I took it from him, taking extra care not to brush his hand with mine. “Thanks.”

I made to turn around and return to the safety of Elain’s aura when he reached out and brushed my shoulder. “Are you doing okay? You know, after everything?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Rhys. You already made sure I got home okay.”

He crossed his arms. “Yeah but I’d kind of be an asshole if I didn’t at least check in. Now tell me. Are you okay?”

His gaze didn’t falter from mine as he looked at me. His gorgeous face was serious. He was really asking. He wanted a genuine answer. Good or bad, he wanted to know.

“No.”

And when I turned around, he let me go.

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

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Elain and I spent six hours in the library and I skipped out on the girls’ team dinner, claiming I had homework. I spent the evening locked in my room, dreading the inevitable moment when I ran into Ianthe, who was, after all, my roommate. Bitch, I muttered under my breath.

It was eight o’clock and I had no plans for the rest of my evening, so I changed into my pajamas and flopped on the bed. Fully prepared to spend the night binging a TV show, I retrieved ice cream from my fridge and got under the covers. An hour into The Witcher, I got a text.

Rhysand Night: You’re going to practice in the morning, right?

I frowned. He was clearly texting the wrong person. And how did he have my number?

I opened the text and discovered that he had texted his phone from mine last night…

Me: I was planning on it

Rhysand Night: Just checking. I know you may not feel like going right now, but I don’t want to see you getting in trouble

Being a part of a college level swim team meant twenty hours of training a week. Practice at 5:30 in the morning most weekdays and again in the afternoon. I didn’t know why Rhys felt the need to check on me--missing practice meant getting chewed out by the head coach. If you missed more than one practice, you got suspended. No way would I blatantly take that risk.

Me: I’ll be there

I shut off my phone and went to bed.

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

I barely dragged myself out of practice the next morning. And the morning after that. And the morning after that. For two weeks after Halloween, I ignored Ianthe as much as humanly possible. She made no attempt to apologize. Tamlin had even kept his distance. I showed up at practice, swam (albeit poorly), went to class, went to practice, and went home. I was reaching new levels of anti-social. Elain was busy with study groups and classes and Nesta wouldn’t be in town for another week. She worked as a flight attendant and split her time between our father's and her and Elain’s shared place.

I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything besides school and swim. The fact that I had wasted a year of my life on Tamlin Spring was tearing me apart from the inside out. And breaking up with him had made me realize all of the things I had wasted my life on for the past year. Why was I pursuing a degree in exercise science when I loved literature and art? Why had I put all my effort into one friendship with a bitch who had stabbed me in the back at her first opportunity? I had no other friends on the swim team I had chosen during my recruitment process, thinking it was the “place for me.” I was in the wrong place, had chosen the wrong people, and was aiming for the wrong future. The worst part was, it was all my fault. My blindness had seeped into every part of my life and I barely knew who I was without my overbearing boyfriend and the friend who had steered me around for my entire college experience.

On Thursday morning, over a week and a half after the Halloween party, Coach King texted me to meet him in his office after my classes for the day were over. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. An impromptu meeting with Coach King usually implied a fate worse than death. At this point, I deserved anything he had to say to me. My grades had fallen in the past few weeks (I had failed a test on Monday and two quizzes since then) and my training had continued to worsen.

My suspicions proved correct when I arrived for the meeting and Coach King started explaining the reason he had called me to his office. He mentioned my grades and my training and the fact that I had barely spoken or shown any signs of life at practice for days. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to know what he could do to help. But mostly, he wanted me to fix it--fast. Then he told me he was moving me to the middle distance training group.

“Wh--what?!”

Moving training groups in the middle of the year was unheard of. Potentially season-ending. If he was moving me from distance to middle distance, he was most likely saying I wouldn’t travel or compete for the rest of the year. It took time to adjust to a new training regimen.

I tried to protest, but he told me he had made his decision and felt I was more cut out for middle distance events anyway. The adjustment wouldn’t be too drastic. And he wanted me to take the rest of the week off and start fresh on Monday.

That’s the thing about college athletics. Coaches can be great coaches. They can get a team from nothing to something quick if they know what they’re doing. Some can even do that and help their swimmers develop as people, too. But for most coaches, when it came down to it, weakness was weakness, no matter the reason. And I was currently the weakest link on the team. Coach King had to do something about it and this was apparently the best he could come up with.

I mumbled something to Coach King about seeing the sports psychologist and trying harder at the new practices. I felt certain he had vague ideas about the couples on the team, so he probably knew about my Tamlin situation. I didn’t feel the need to mention it to him. I left his office and made it all the way down the five flights of stairs and out the back entrance into the cloudy, chilly afternoon before I allowed myself to cry.

I had messed up my life so royally that I had no idea how to fix it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Coach King kicked me off the team in a matter of weeks. We had a travel meet coming up, and I felt certain that I wouldn’t make the cut. I’d be stuck at Prythian U while all my teammates that I had developed no relationship with would travel.

Head down, I was rushing to my car as my tears fell when I ran headfirst into a warm body.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry--”

“We have to stop meeting like--Feyre.”

“Rhys.” I kept my eyes on the crack in the parking lot pavement at my feet.

“Are you okay?”

“You’ve got to stop asking me that question! I know you don’t care! Let me deal with this by myself.” I made to push past him but he followed me to my car anyways.

“Feyre. I do care. I’m your teammate. And it doesn’t seem like anybody else on the team is lining up to ask how you’re doing, so I’m here to do that. I want to help you.” Something in his voice made me pause, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Just fuck off. You don’t even know me.”

He threw up his hands as I struggled to unlock my extremely old Volkswagen with the key fob. My tears and anger were making it very hard to open the door.

“For God’s sake, Feyre! Would you stop being so damn difficult and let someone help you? You’ve been a ghost at practice these past few weeks and Coach King just told me you were moving to my training group.”

I unlocked my car and wrenched it open. “Leave me alone.”

Rhys grabbed my car door and refused to let me close it. I glared at his stupid, gorgeous, violet eyes. “I bet you like this. An excuse to just give up, get yourself kicked off the team. Much easier than having to face Tamlin at practice everyday, much easier than having to make new friends.”

I narrowed my eyes. And slapped him across the face.

He touched his cheek. A spark of satisfaction lit up against the confusion and depression that lived within my gut. I had surprised him. And shut him up.

“Wow. I guess I deserved that. But you know I’m right.”

And the fact was, I did. He had said out loud what was going on deep inside me, what I was dangerously close to giving in to. I was shocked someone I barely knew could even begin to fathom what was going on so deep within my brain that I had yet to admit it to myself. But most of all, I was angry. Angry that this boy thought he had some sort of right to me pouring out my heart to him or at the very least accepting his help. He wasn’t a captain. He had no jurisdiction over me.

“Fine! You’re right! Are you happy now?” I wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. I cast around for something, anything to make him understand even a little bit what I was feeling. “Any other accusations you want to spit at me to make me hate myself more than I already do?”

His smirk fell. Satisfied once more, I thought he’d let me leave, but he held fast to my car door.

“Tell me what to do to help you. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

I blinked. I thought he would yell at me some more. I hadn’t expected such an open offer, more raw and entreating than anything Tamlin had ever said to me.

I hated that my year with Tamlin had made me think that a guy treating me nicely was a rare commodity. I deserved to be treated with more kindness than Tamlin had ever bestowed on me. I knew that, and yet--I didn’t know how to accept that kindness anymore. I was now so deeply confused about myself, my team, and Rhys that I merely stood there, staring at Rhys without really seeing him, and contemplating the nature of my existence for the past year.

Rhys, appearing to come to the conclusion that I had nothing to say in response to his entreaty, cleared his throat. “I know there’s a team party this weekend, as per usual. But my friends and I are going to hang out ourselves and stay sober since we have a meet the weekend after. I want you to come. In fact, I insist.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept talking. “If you don’t show, I’ll tell the captains you haven’t actually been sick or studying during the past two team meetings you’ve missed. I’ll text you the address. Come. Please. We won’t talk about Tamlin or anything difficult. Plus, you should probably meet your new training group.”

That was right. Rhys and all his friends were in the middle distance group. I’d be subject to all of them starting Monday.

And because I couldn’t think of any excuse, because I couldn’t have the captains knowing the concrete truth about my absences, because maybe somewhere deep within me desired help, I agreed.

#feysand #feyre x rhysand #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #feysand modern au #feyre archeron #rhysand #high lord #night court #elriel

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sirius-archive · 5 years

Text

Chaos Theory Chapter 13

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader, Fleur Delacour x Original Male Character

Warning: Swearing, mild smut, drug use

Word Count: 6,411

A/N: I’m finally posting this!! I’ve been working on it for ages and I’ve scrapped so many drafts but now I’ve finally settled on one I like! I also apologise for the format; I’m posting on my mobile bc I’m house sitting for a friend. I will repost later when I’m back at home but for now, enjoy.

Please be aware that there is a mild sex scene toward the end of the story and also discussion about underage sex. If this makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading.

P.S thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this chapter!!!

***

Chapter thirteen

There is an old-fashioned code for people like him; honour among thieves.

Darius has never been that trusting let alone stupid — stupid gets you caught, and he’s far too busy to get caught by the assholes chasing him. Darius has been in the business since he can remember, and he knows all to well that thieves have no honour, that’s why they’re thieves.

Still, He’s always known to a certain degree that his own greedy ambition would thrust him headlong into a nest full of hungry serpents. It’s an occupational hazard, he supposes; there’s always someone with an ulterior motive, which is why he works alone. He can’t deal with snitches.

Snitches are just asking to be killed.

The one that snitched on him is practically begging Darius to kill him, and he’s going to grant the snitch that wish as soon as he gets out of here.

Thanks to the suicidal dumbass, Darius now has to deal with the auror’s who have managed to invade his underground safe house. He can sense them creeping through the sewage, armed with wands that have taken away countless lives.

It’s all very...inconvenient the whole situation is. He’d just settled into his neat, little man cave. Now he has to find a new spot.

Using wandless magic, Darius effortlessly levitates a giant dung bomb from its spot in a box and drops it in front of the door. With a snap of his fingers, Darius ignites the bomb just as the door bursts open in a cloud of dust and dirt.

“I found him!” Auror douchebag murmurs into a hidden mouth piece and Darius smirks.

“Took you long enough,” Darius quips, “Would you like a tea or a coffee? I would offer you something stronger but I’ve run out — I’ll just pop down to the liquor store—“

Auror douchebag’s lips bend into an ugly, menacing smirk, “You’re not leaving here alive, boy. You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book.”

Instead of answering, Darius slants a glare at the auror, noting his height and weight. Darius copies auror douchebag’s stance and posture.

“You’re not leaving here alive, boy,” Darius mimics, almost laughing at auror douchebag’s confused expression, “You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book!”

“Stop that!” Barks auror douchebag, raising his wand, “Give me the damn book!”

“Stop that! Give me the damn book!”

Auror douchebag takes several steps forward, attempting to assert his dominance.

“Stop playing games,” Auror douchebag snaps, “You don’t realise how much danger you’re in.”

Darius takes a decisive step forward, straightening his posture. He’s significantly taller than auror douchebag, and the coward has to take a step back.

“No need to be afraid,” Darius remarks, the beginnings of a smirk flirting around the corners of his lips, “It won’t hurt.”

Auror douchebag snorts, “What are you on about, boy? What won’t hurt?”

“Killing you,” Darius replies, simply, “Well, it won’t hurt me anyway.”

Auror douchebag’s mouth flaps open to spit some dull remark, but before he can finish the dungbomb at his feet explodes. Plumes of thick, acrid smoke fill the air, clouding both auror douchebag and Darius’ vision. Auror douchebag splutters into his fist, distracted long enough for Darius to land a punch to his jaw and a roundhouse kick to his chest.

Auror douchebag flies backward, gasping as the wind is knocked out of his lungs. His head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder as his lids slide shut and he drifts off into unconsciousness.

Darius smirks, “You should have let me go to the liquor store.”

Concentrating hard on auror douchebag’s rugged appearance, Darius’ skin ripples and stretches, bones crunching into place as he morphs into an exact copy. Rising to his feet, Darius transfigures the unconscious body of auror douchebag into a rat just as his partners rush into the room.

They sent the whole god damn brigade, Darius thinks with a flush of pride.

Doubling over, Darius feigns a serious rib injury, rasping on a sharp, jagged breath, “He escaped! He beat my dumb ass and went that way!”

The aurors stupidly follow Darius directions, rushing off to the other end of the sewer. Darius waits until their footsteps fade before grabbing his escape bag and scaling the ladder out of the sewer, smirking as he escapes into the night.

When he finally finds somewhere to lay low — an abandoned mansion that’s most likely haunted — Darius drops onto the creaking, jarrah bed and unzips his bag.

“Finally” He murmurs, staring down at an ancient, leather bound book.

Darius studies the book he had stolen with curiosity, wondering why everyone wants this book so damn much. He opens the first page, noting the snake consuming its tail and the Scarab beetle fluttering its moth-like wings. What a strange illustration...

Beneath it, scrawled on the page in barely-legible chicken scratch, is a strange Latin incantation. Without even realising it, Darius mutters the incantation, not knowing the ripple effect those simple words will unleash on the world he knows, not realising the tragedy contained within the stained pages of the book, not realising what it means to his estranged family...

Not knowing that, three-thousand miles away, (Y/N) Arden startles awake with a loud, piercing scream, having experienced a nightmare that felt more real than anything she’s ever known.

***

The scream comes just as the hour hand of Hermione’s quaint, muggle alarm clock strikes six.

Hermione stumbles out of bed and fumbles for her wand, pushing wiry locks of brown hair out of her face and blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through her. She almost feels dizzy from it.

More screams ring through the dormitory, issuing from behind the drawn curtains of (Y/N)’s four poster. Hermione hears Parvati and Lavender stir awake in their own beds, the curtains yanking open to reveal their sleepy expressions. Hermione rushes toward the (Y/N)’s bed, hastily tearing the curtains apart to reveal her terrified friend.

The white linen sheets of her bed are kicked into a tangled heap at her feet as (Y/N) flails. She glistens in the morning light, beads of sweat coating her skin and drenching her sheets. Her eyes are wide and panicked, misty from unshed tears and her breath rattles in the back of her throat.

Without hesitating, Hermione clambers onto the bed and drapes her arms around (Y/N)’s small, trembling form, holding her close. She can feel (Y/N)’s heart thumping in her chest, pounding against Hermione’s like a second heartbeat. Hermione squeezes a little tighter.

“It’s okay,” Hermione coos, “You’re safe.”

“I-I-“ (Y/N) chokes out, swallowing thickly, “It was-it was right there...”

“It was just a nightmare,” Hermione reassures, gently, fingers trailing down the knobs of (Y/N)’s spine, “You’re okay.”

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath, a sob forming in the back of her throat. She swallows it and steadies her trembling voice.

“A-a nightmare,” she finally whimpers, voice tight and small like a child’s, “Just a nightmare.”

“That’s right, just a nightmare.”

Through her peripherals, Hermione spots Lavender and Parvati peeking through the crack in the curtains, expressions riddled with questioning concern. Hermione dismisses then with a shake of her head and the curtains draw once again, soft footsteps disappearing to the other side of the room.

“What—What was it about?” Hermione asks, slowly, hesitantly, watching (Y/N) carefully.

There’s a long, eerie silence. Hermione doesn’t think (Y/N) will respond, and just as she’s about to give up and go back to sleep, (Y/N) sighs, “There was this huge...shadow monster with these-these long claws and huge teeth and—and scratched something into the mirror.”

“What was it?”

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath “The truth will set me free...”

Hermione frowns, bites her lip. She’s heard that before, though she’s not sure where.

“What else happened in your nightmare?”

(Y/N) sniffles, “It was...peculiar. Like a dream within a dream...”

“Go on.”

“Well...In my nightmare, I had just woken up from a different nightmare. I don’t really remember but it felt so real!”

(Y/N)’s voice wavers, her bottom lip trembling. Hermione can tell that she doesn’t want to be alone, and after what she’s just heard, Hermione doesn’t blame her.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Hermione whispers into (Y/N)’s hair. She feels (Y/N) nod, tears soaking through the thin cotton of Hermione’s pyjamas.

Hermione settles into the bed beside (Y/N). (Y/N) wraps her arms around Hermione’s waist in a desperate hug that feels as though she’s clinging to her for safety, for reassurance, for comfort. Like she’s drowning in an ocean without a shore, waves crashing over her and pushing her further to their murky depths.

Together, they lie in (Y/N)’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. Raw sobs and sharp knots of air tangle in the back of (Y/N)’s throat.

“Breathe,” Hermione whispers, soothingly, “Just breathe.”

Eventually, (Y/N)’s stuttered breathing smooths and shallows, her long lashes drooping closed. Tears stain (Y/N)’s flushed cheeks and she still trembles from fear, but at least she’s asleep.

Hermione stays by her side, lying awake, watching her with a mixture of worry and curiosity, wondering with a tiny prick of envy how someone could look so pretty when they sleep.

***

Ron — to his eternal frustration — is not as oblivious as everyone thinks.

He notices things. Important things. Sometimes obvious things. He’s noticed things before other people have (except for Hermione because, lets face it, she’s a bloody nerd). He notices (Y/N) –– though, admittedly, everyone does, and he’d have to be half troll to not notice her. This morning, he notices something different about her, something that blurs the line between excitement and unease.

In earnest, Ron doesn’t notice anything peculiar about her at first. When he enters the common room from his dorm, she’s cradling Nightshade and mingling with some of her sixth-year friends. He can tell she’s tired, though almost everyone is feeling sleepy from the previous nights festivities, including himself.

(Y/N) spots him almost immediately and waves goodbye to her friends, practically bounding toward Ron. She flashes a dazzling smile, displaying a perfectly straight row of gleaming teeth, but there’s something about it that seems a little...forced.

“Morning,” she greets, and Ron reaches out to pat the messy bun she had tied on the top of her head. She smiles broadly.

“Sleep well?” Ron asks and (Y/N) sighs.

“No...not at all.”

“Been dreaming of Cedric Diggory all night, eh?”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, cutting Ron’s snickering off with a well-aimed punch to his shoulder.

“Oh shut up...” she snaps, though her cheeks are pink and the corners of her lips hedge on a smile.

Ron casts a look over her shoulder, watching the group of sixth years she had been talking to.

“How do you have so many friends?” Ron asks, eyes meeting hers again.

She shrugs, “Mainly through that thing called — now, what’s it called now? — social interaction.”

“Huh. Isn’t it annoying?”

“Not really,” (Y/N) answers, “They’re not like my best friends or anything. I’ve only got three best friends...”

“Don’t you mean four?” Jokes a familiar voice from behind Ron.

Ron doesn’t need to turn around to know that his two older brothers, Fred and George, are standing behind him. He exhales heavily, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch George slap Fred behind the head.

“Who taught you to count?” George snips as he watches Fred rub the back of his head soothingly.

“You don’t count,” Fred explains, “You’re more of (Y/N)’s boyfriend than ‘best friend.’”

Fred winks at (Y/N).

George’s cheeks glow red.

“Didn’t you hear?” Ron chimes in, “(Y/N) is already taken.”

“Thanks, Ronald,” (Y/N) snaps sardonically, narrowing her eyes on him, “I’m relieved to know my privacy is of your utmost concern.”

Ron throws (Y/N) a disbelieving look, “It’s Hogwarts, (Y/N). Nothing stays secret for long.”

(Y/N) snorts, just as Nightshade begins to stir from her doze. She squirms in (Y/N) arms and she gently placed her cat on the floor.

“Looks like George’s old sweater has found a new home,” Ron nods at her sweater, “Are you sure that’s hygienic?”

Ron has to bite back a laugh. It’s almost comical, the way she swims in George’s sweater, so much so she’s had to tuck the excess fabric into the hem of her tennis skirt. He has to admit, she does wear the it well, though he can’t figure out why anyone would want to wear such a monstrosity of a sweater in the first place

George rolls his eyes, “I think now would be a good time to reflect on the memory of Ron projectile vomiting slugs in his second year.”

(Y/N) cringes, “Please don’t. I’ve been trying to erase that memory from my mind for the past two years.”

“Didn’t you nearly catch one, (Y/N)?” Fred smirks.

“Anyway,” Ron snaps, glaring at Fred and George, “It looks better on you than it ever did on George.”

(Y/N) throws her head back and laughs. Her eyes, though shadowed with fatigue, still seem to twinkle with amusement.

Ron casts her a side-long glance. Maybe she is just tired.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ronald.”

The four of them head down for breakfast, talking about the previous night and laughing amongst themselves. The twins and (Y/N) do most of the laughing, mainly at Ron’s expense, but if that means he gets to cheer his best friend up then he doesn’t mind. He watches with a mixture of relief and joy as the apprehension begins to melt away from (Y/N), leaving her brimming with happiness.

The twins — to Ron’s dismay — decide to sit with Ron and (Y/N) for breakfast, where they wrestle over who gets to sit next to (Y/N). She eventually points out that she can sit between them, though not without watching their pissing contest with amusement. Content with her suggestion, the twins finally settle, Fred a little more so than George, the latter of whom keeps throwing (Y/N) strange looks.

Soon after, the four of them are joined by Hermione and Harry and they all settle in to enjoy their breakfast. To Ron’s relief, the twins decide to leave after breakfast and with bellies full of delicious food, the four of them return to the common room.

“You must be starting a collection of stolen clothes,” Harry jokes, nodding at (Y/N)’s sweater, “You still haven’t given me my hoodie back.”

(Y/N) bites her lip apologetically, “It’s so cozy though...”

Harry’s lips tilt into a smirk, “You can have it, it was Dudley’s old hoodie anyway.”

(Y/N) cringes and laughter erupts between the four of them, the unspoken tension lingering from last night melting from the warmth of each other’s company. When bubbles of laughter fade, Ron and Harry begin to fill them in on what they learned about Hagrid.

“Well I thought he must be,” Hermione says once Ron finishes, shrugging nonchalantly, “I knew he couldn’t be pure giant, because they’re about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can’t all be horrible.”

Ron blinks at Hermione, biting back several scathing comments. Is she bonkers? He always knew that she wasn’t completely sane, but now it almost seemed as though she were deliberately talking crazy to egg Ron on.

“And what do you think about this, (Y/N)?” Ron sighs, rubbing his forehead to keep himself from starting another argument with Hermione.

(Y/N) shrugs, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. The hem of her skirt slides up a little, giving him a glimpse of smooth skin beneath the fabric of her stockings. Ron can’t help but notice the way Harry’s cheeks flush and he has to swallow down the urge to tease Harry.

“Hermione and I figured it out almost straight away,” she says, matter-of-fairly, “Why is it such a big deal? We know Hagrid isn’t like other giants so why should everyone care that he’s a––“

Ron cuts (Y/N) off with a sharp ‘shush’, glancing around to make sure no one heard.

“Keep your voice down,” Ron hisses, “We might know Hagrid’s a You-know-what but no one else does. He could lose his job!”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, “I’m going to make sure he’s okay,” she says, climbing out of her armchair and flattening the fabric of her skirt, “He’s probably a bit hurt from what happened last night.”

“You’re right,” Hermione says, narrowing her eyes on Harry, “Harry should go with you.”

Harry’s mouth drops open but Hermione gives him a stern, pointed look that withers any argument Harry or Ron could muster up.

“Okay,” (Y/N) shrugs, flashing a brief smile at Harry, “I’ll go and get my cloak. It’s bloody freezing out there.”

When (Y/N) is safely out of range, Harry rounds on Hermione.

“What was that all about?” He snaps.

Hermione leans forward, glancing around the room conspicuously, “(Y/N) had a terrible nightmare last night. She woke up screaming and absolutely terrified. Honestly, if you had seen her...” she cuts herself off with a sharp sigh, “Going with her to see Hagrid night help her open up a little and maybe you can tell her how you feel.”

“I already did that!” Harry grumbles, bitterly, “And she said she loved me as a friend!”

Hermione snaps the book in her hands shut with such ferocity, she startles the sleepy Crookshanks curled up on her lap, “Well who’s fault was that?”

“—Alright, I’m ready.”

The three of them jump.

Swivelling around, Ron forces a smile he hopes looks convincing. (Y/N) arches a brow suspiciously, though to her credit, she doesn’t ask.

“Ready to go?” (Y/N) asks Harry, and Ron spots the way her fingers twitch around her mothers bracelet.

Harry jumps to his feet, mumbling an uneasy ‘yeah’ and the two of them set off, stepping through the portrait hole. Despite himself, Ron can’t help wondering what the bloody hell is going on.

****

Harry is — well...

Nervous doesn’t quite fit it.

He’s certainly uneasy, for reasons obvious to seemingly everyone around him except for the one person who matters, whose always mattered, even when he didn’t realise it. He wonders whether that’s because of she’s blinded by Cedric or if it’s because of something Harry has said or done.

He claws awkwardly at the nape of his neck, clearing his throat every now and again as though he’s trying to gulp down that swirling, heated pool of feelings currently trying to climb its way up his throat.

“Frog in your throat?”

Harry tries his best not to jump. He was so deep in his own thoughts and feelings, he had temporarily forgotten where he was.

(Y/N) stares at him expectantly and Harry sighs.

“Not quite.”

He clears his throat on impulse, and the corner of (Y/N)’s lips twitch.

“Still sulky about last night, then?”

Harry’s jaw slackens.

“What—? I wasn’t — I mean — I was never —?”

“Parvati told me all about it,” (Y/N) interjects, a smile teasing her (perfect) lips “Are you feeling better this morning?”

Harry drags a hand through his hair, grazing his nails over his scalp to stave the prickle sprawling beneath his hair.

“Yeah...though to be honest, Ron was more upset than me.”

(Y/N) snorts, “Yeah he was, wasn’t he?”

“I’m just glad he and Hermione have agreed to disagree.”

“I think that’s the basis of their friendship.”

Harry chuckles, giving her a sidelong glance, “Where did you end up disappearing to last night anyway?”

Guilt briefly crosses over (Y/N)’s face, shadowing the light in her eyes and accentuating the dark circles beneath them.

“I was...I was looking for my brother...” (Y/N) says, so softly he barely manages to catch the hitch in her voice.

“Is he okay?”

(Y/N) bites her lip, hesitating, “No...not really...”

Harry waits for her to elaborate.

She doesn’t.

He wisely decides to let it slide.

“Listen, I’m sorry I ditched you last night,” (Y/N) mumbles, “I didn’t mean to. I guess I was just annoyed at Ron, you know?”

Harry nods in understanding, “At least you made sure Hermione was okay.”

(Y/N) nods and sighs, looping her arm through his, “You’re both assholes, you know.”

Harry laughs. He’s missed her more than he originally realised. He can’t remember ever feeling this relaxed with her since...well since last year. The unease he’d felt entering the conversation has drained away, leaving him warm and content in (Y/N)’s company as they stroll through the castle, approaching Hagrid’s hut at a leisurely rate.

When they make it to Hagrid’s door, Fang gives a couple of raspy barks until he catches their scent and he hears the heavy thump of his tail against the door. A long, groaning noise issues from the other side of the door, like someone choking the engine of an old, rusty motorbike.

Harry shares a worried look with (Y/N).

He knocks.

No answer.

“Huh,” (Y/N) frowns, “Lets try again. Maybe — maybe he didn’t hear —?”

“—Didn’t hear Fang?” Harry asks, stepping away from the door. Another long peal of that strange groaning noise echoes through Hagrids hut. Harry frowns, “And what is that weird noise?”

Harry creeps around the side of the hut, peering in through the window. A hazy sheen of fog covers the glass, but through it he can just make out the sleeping form of Hagrid collapsed on his bed, one giant hand on his stomach while the other clutches an empty bottle.

Harry laughs, “He’s passed out drunk!”

(Y/N) rushes to his side, reaching up on the tips of her toes to stare into the window.

“So he is,” she giggles.

“Best leave him to it, eh?”

(Y/N) nods, grinning at Harry.

The two of them make their way toward the castle, laughing.

“I should brew him a hangover potion,” chortles (Y/N), “Something tells me he’s going to need it.”

Just as they reach the courtyard, a familiar voice rings through the air.

“(Y/N)!”

Harry’s stomach curls into a swampy knot, resentment climbing up the back of his throat. He clenches his jaw shut, grinding his molars as he and (Y/N) turn around.

“Cedric!” she beams as he jogs toward her.

Harry stares as his arms wrap around her waist, embracing her in a hug. Watching them sours the good mood (Y/N) put him in.

When they break apart, Cedric laces their fingers together, beaming broadly at Harry, “Heya Harry. Suppose you heard the news about (Y/N) and I...”

Harry nods curtly, “I heard.”

(Y/N)’s teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, glancing uneasily at Harry.

“We were just on our way back from Hagrids,” (Y/N) says, gazing lovingly up at Cedric, “He’s — er — still asleep. Had a long night I suppose.”

“I think we all did,” Cedric says, giving (Y/N) a look Harry does not like at all. A delicate, spring-pink blush spreads across (Y/N)’s cheeks.

It’s grating.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps.

Cedric smiles sheepishly.

(Y/N)’s blush deepens.

“Anyway,” Cedric continues, “I hope you don’t mind if I steal (Y/N) for a moment? There is something quite important that I need to talk to (Y/N) about.”

Harry does mind. Very much so. But he can’t make a scene, so he bites back several sarcastic remarks and nods his head, “Sure.”

Cedric beams, “Well, see you around then.”

Harry sincerely hopes he doesn’t see Cedric around.

“I’ll meet you back at the common room,” (Y/N) says, giving Harry one of those lovely, reassuring smiles. Harry, though, is too bitter to fully appreciate it, and the fact that he can’t appreciate it only makes him more angry with Cedric.

“Yeah.”

With that, Harry wheels around and leaves, the remainders of his good mood tarnished by Hogwarts favourite champion.

****

Cedric used to be a patient person.

He’s been told by many that it’s one of his defining qualities, that he’s patient with people in the same way that they imagine Helga Hufflepuff being. Cedrics always thought that comparing him with Helga Hufflepuff is an exaggeration to say the least, but since he’s met (Y/N), he’s begun to realise just how patient he used to be.

‘Used to’ being the operative term here.

Because since meeting (Y/N), he has been the most impatient, the most selfish, greedy fool he’s ever known, an idiot in love who has completely surrendered himself to her charms. He can barely wait to be with her and when he’s with her, he’s found that he only wants more — more of her.

“What is it?” She asks when they reach the Hufflepuff common room, concern creeping into her words.

Cedric hesitates, chewing his bottom lip. He really doesn’t have anything romantic planned like their previous dates. He’s just a desperate man trying to soak up as much warmth a woman like (Y/N) emits.

The common room door hisses and slides open, inviting them into the cozy warmth of the room. Cedric leads her inside, checking to see if anyone is there. It’s completely empty. Everyone is out enjoying the snow.

Thank God.

“Wow!” (Y/N) exclaims, gazing at the tree in the centre of the room, “That’s incredible! I wish our common room had a tree in the middle of our—“

“Do you trust me?” Cedric cuts her off, glancing at her lips. (Y/N) nods slowly, curiously, though there’s a glint in her eyes that tells him she knows what’s about to happen.

Cedric kisses her.

She’s surprised at first, taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss, and he worries for one dreadful moment that he overstepped his boundaries. But then she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, her movements swift and desperate and Cedric sighs into the kiss, tongue sliding over her bottom lip.

Relieved and emboldened, Cedric presses her against the wall, hands roaming up and down her sides, relishing in the warmth that hums beneath his touch. Guttural moans rumble at the back of his throat as his brain melts to slosh in his skull, swimming with intoxicating amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

“Is this the important matter you so desperately wanted to discuss?” She rasps when they finally break apart, lips red and swollen. She gasps when Cedric’s lips drag across her jugular, teeth scraping over her thumping pulse. She shudders in response, lolling her head back to grant him more access to her neck.

“I hope you’re not too mad,” He murmurs, breath hot against her skin, “Though something tells me you’re not.”

She whimpers when he kisses her collarbone, arching up into him, “Oh I’m totally furious.”

“I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“I’m not so easy to please.”

His lips travel up the curve of her neck, gliding across her jaw, until his eyes meet hers. They’re blown wide with what Cedric’s horny, caveman hindbrain recognises as lust; syrupy warm and obsidian dark. Those eyes of hers could paralyse even the strongest of men and turn sinners into beggars.

She’s going to be the death of him.

Licking his lips, he leans in close, gazing into her eyes, his voice a mere whisper.

“I’m counting on it.”

Their lips collide.

All he’s been able to think about is this very moment. Since the moment he met her almost a year ago, all he’s wanted to do is drag her into the closest broom closet and kiss her senseless. That desire, matched with an healthy dose of love and adoration, has gradually filled up until it overflowed, drowning him in absolute yearning.

He’s brought back to earth by a tug on his belt, and Cedric realises her nimble fingers are fumbling around it, blindly trying to strip it from his pants.

Cedric leaps back.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, frowning.

Cedric licks his lips and swallows, “I’m not sure you’re ready for—for that...”

(Y/N) reaches out to him, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging him forward. She reaches up into her toes and whispers into his ear.

“I’m ready, Cedric. I want you.”

Cedric swallows, blood heading straight to the region beneath his belt. His resolve is rapidly dissolving and it takes every ounce of his willpower to step away from her.

“Are you sure, though?” He asks in a soft, reassuring voice, “We’ve only just made our relationship official. We don’t have to rush things...”

(Y/N) peers up at him through doe-like eyes, lashes fluttering as a cute, little frown forms.

“Do you—do you not want this? Want me?”

Cedric bleats a laugh on impulse.

“Merlin, (Y/N)...” Cedric drapes his hands over hers, ducking his chin to catch her gaze, “All I think about is you. You’ve completely consumed me. And you know what? I don’t even care.”

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, her teeth catching her bottom lip. Cedric gives her hands a gentle squeeze.

“All I want is for you to feel comfortable,” Cedric says, softly, “You’re only fourteen (Y/N). Pushing you into a situation you don’t want to be in before you’re ready will hurt you. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you because—“

I love you

Cedric catches himself. He licks his lips and swallows, “—I care about you.”

(Y/N) almost looks relieved. She clearly wasn’t as ready as she thought she was.

“I care about you, too,” she murmurs, reaching up to kiss him.

Eventually, Cedric manages to break away long enough to show her the common room. They take full advantage of the solitude; kissing languidly whenever they get the chance, as though their kisses are oxygen in a vacuum.

They barely manage to stumble into his bedroom and collapse on his bed, giggling between kisses. Time seems to slow to a stop whenever he’s around her, whether they’re making out or chatting. All Cedric knows is her, his anchor that keeps him tethered to reality, that stops him drifting into space.

Cedric wasn’t lying when he said she had completely consumed him. He doesn’t think there is a single cell in his body that doesn’t belong to her. It sounds cliche but it’s true.

Together on his bed, the two of them drift off into a dreamless sleep, warm and comfortable, oblivious to fates cruel, cold plans.

***

Luke wakes with a start.

He groans. His head feels like a small, rabies-infected rodent scratched away at his brain. His stomach feels like the rodent curled up and died inside it.

Blinking blearily, Luke glances around the room.

He’s in a cellar, surrounded by shelves of fire whiskey and butterbeer. He scratches the back of his head. How the fuck did he end up in the basement of the Three Broomsticks.

A chill breeze sweeps through the basement, prickling his skin. With a shock, Luke realises he’s completely naked. Fleurs body is warm and soft beside him; her head resting on his chest, her hair splayed out like a silver halo against his skin. She’s equally naked, which is not a particular thought Luke really needs to process right now; his erection is already poking into her thigh and he can feel the round smoothness of her breasts as her chest rises and falls with her shallow breathing.

Luke carefully manoeuvres Fleur off his chest, stuffing his pitiful excuse of a pillow under her head.

He has to find his clothes.

Climbing to his feet, he steadies himself on a bench, cradling his head in a large hand. His eyes snag on his pants and he dashes toward it, wincing at the obnoxious ache throbbing between his temples.

As he pulls on his pants, snippets of the previous night return to him; the Durmstrang ship, inhaling the Nyx’s blood, getting blind drunk, stumbling around in the snow, having sex in the Beauxbatons carriage, in the prefects bathroom and the Black Lake and in the Three Broomstick’s cellar...

Luke’s heart sinks.

(Y/N)’s face floats across the jigsaw puzzle of memories forming in his mind. She saw him. She knows...

“You look like a bloody mess,” says a cold, sniffy voice from over Luke’s shoulder. Luke turns, spotting a well-dressed boy no older than eighteen sitting on an armchair. His thin lips are pinched, his expression sharp and his eyes narrowed on Luke in disdain.

“Who are you?” Luke croaks, squinting at the boy. He’s not sure if it’s the hangover or the lighting but he doesn’t recognise the intruder. His crisp Posh accent tells Luke that he can’t be from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons.

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” the boy waves his hand at Luke, as though dismissing him, “I’m after your sister.”

“A lot of boys are after my sister,” Luke snaps. Within the span of three minutes, this fucker has proved to be a condescending, arrogant bastard, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from her.”

The twat rolls his eyes like a little bitch, “Or What? You’ll kill me? I’m afraid you’ll find you can’t kill me.”

A stabbing pain slices down Luke’s skull. Something about this guy reminds Luke of his father. The likeness leaves a sour taste in Luke’s mouth. He curls his fingers into fists, grinding his jaw.

“I may not be able to kill you,” Luke growls, stepping closer to the stranger, “But I can make you wish you were dead.”

“Says the half-naked, hungover imbecile who doesn’t even remember how he got here...” the dense motherfucker has the audacity to scoff, climbing to his dumb feet, “I’ll find her myself.”

“Don’t you dare go near her!” Luke snarls, advancing on the stranger, “I swear to Merlin I will destroy you!”

The stranger barks a cold, mirthless laugh. The more Luke stares at the stranger, the more he’s reminded of his human-stain of a father. The resemblance is uncanny.

The stranger’s expression flickers, anger contorting the handsome features of his face, “You wouldn’t know anything about destruction! You’re just a boy drowning himself in toxins instead of being a man and making a choice! You’re sister is better off without you!”

Luke swallows thickly, the strangers words creating a deep, hollow fissure in his chest.

“Who are you talking to?” Asks a husky voice from behind, accented with crisp and elegant French. Fleur is awake and swimming in his dress shirt. Luke blinks, glancing back over his shoulder at the stranger. He’s gone.

Was that entire conversation real? Or is the Nyx’s blood still lingering in his system. Luke turns to Fleur, forcing a smile.

“No one,” Luke says, hands sliding into his pocket. His fingers twitch around the vial of Nyx’s blood sitting like an anchor in his pocket. He retrieves it, shaking the vial in front of him, “Want some breakfast?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Fleur asks, walking toward him. She sinks to her knees, her perfect teeth digging into her bottom lip. She peers up at him through a row of long, thick rashes as she purrs “Besides, there are other ways to make you forget...”

Luke stares down at her, watching as she tugs on the zipper of his pants. He lowers his hand, cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking her cheek bone. He guides her up onto her feet.

“You don’t have to do that for me...”

“You don’t mean that,” she says, eyes not quite meeting his. She slides her tongue across her bottom lip.

Carnal desire flares inside of him, jolting straight to his crotch. His hand slides down her face, fingers curling around her throat.

“What if I do?”

“Then you’re a liar,” Fleur says, her fingers reaching into his pants. He groans and she flashes a wicked grin, “A dirty, sexy liar...”

A strange, almost toxic combination of desire and anger simmers in Luke’s veins. A sudden burst of possessiveness pulses through and he slides his hand from her throat to her waist, picking her up and planting her on the bench.

Fleur delighted laughter tapers into a moan when Luke wraps a tight and slightly assertive grip around her neck with one hand. With the other, Luke pops the lid off the vial and inhale the glittering smoke that curls in the air. The chemical mixture travels straight to his head, curling around his brain. The pressure in his head seems to drain, healing his pounding migraine.

Luke’s head is already swimming when he offers her the vial, and when she takes it, he drops to his knees, nudging her legs apart so he can kneel between them. He licks a white hot trail up her inner thigh, smirking smugly when he hears her gasp.

The empty vial falls to the ground with a loud clang.

Fleur wiggles forward.

Luke chuckles, exhaling against her skin and breathing in her scent, “Oh how the tables have turned...”

“If you’re going to do something, do it quick,” Fleur taunts, he can hear the smirk in her voice, “Unless you’ve forgotten...”

“Oh yeah?” Luke leans forward, teasing her with his tongue, “How bad do you want it, Delacour?”

Fleur is panting above him, “My guess? As bad as you do.”

Luke’s heart races, head swimming in a hazy delirium.

He dives forward.

The stranger is already a distant memory, buried in the deepest, darkest crevices of Luke’s haunted mind. He’s never been so happy to forget.

***

@marauderskeeper @weaselby418 @acciorinn @hervench@depressed-octopods-art @steph-fowlie @lilulo-12@randomfangirl117 @asofslytherin @seunlight@thebesteleganttrashyouseen @elsie2018@polkadotfairyposts @hylianhighlander @dracosdoves@siriuswitches @bernadineisreborn @lousimusician@randomoutsiders @smolldork @danidomm@xrosegoldwolfx @ashkuuuu @sly-vixen-up2nogood@tchalland @lucifersnipnips @notorious-fiction@peppermintspecks @sleep-i-ness @reducto-bitch @who-said @mhftrs @whimsicalangels1234 @kneekoteen @steve-thotgers @qrangr @valiantlynervouschaos @klaudia-deer @bennie-badeend @gryffinclxw @steph-fowlie @acciorinn@fallern618 @alyenaaa @dammit-scamander @kararanae23@myhopeisinfinite @blaised-zabini @poppykoke@swansong321

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soncfseed · 4 years

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REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG: Probably my most important headcanon, so please take the time to read this!!

spoilers ahead, but im gonna look at ethans cutscenes and talk about how his bpd (borderline personality disorder) affects his actions and his perceptions throughout the story of new dawn. this is all just headcanon and my interpretation of ethan and how bpd would affect him. none of this is meant to excuse his more nefarious actions, but explain why my interpretation of ethan doesnt pin him as a selfish, horrible, awful monster, but rather a young man with a lot of unresolved trauma and a serious mental health condition who ended up making some terrible choices that resulted in a lot of pain for a lot of people.

0:05 - ethan’s introduction

in this scene ethan experiences some pretty quick and dramatic mood shifts, and has a pretty significant emotional outburst. these are characteristic of the mood swings and emotional dis-regulation experienced by many people with bpd. he starts off catching the captain off guard, sneaking up behind them. ethan has been taught to distrust outsiders, and a symptom of bpd he experiences is suspicion of others and sometimes brief bouts of paranoia. this kind of behaviour makes sense when this is taken into context.

he says that he might not be what the captain expects. this is part of his low self esteem and struggles with his self image and how others perceive him. he constantly feels as though he can never truly be his own person, outside of joseph seed, and that his existence is a disappointment to those who know him.

once he sees the book, he is triggered into a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. acknowledging that the deputy is the one who found the book, and according to joseph’s prophecy will be the true ruler of new eden, is what sets him off. once ethan goes into his rant about it should’ve been him, he’s experiencing a mood swing and sudden spike in his anger and irritability. due to his issues w emotional regulation and control over his expressions of emotion, ethan lashes out by screaming and knocking over the podium in the church. mood swings for bpd sufferers can be only minutes long. what pulls ethan back down to earth a bit is a sudden rush when he realizes he can work with the captain to enlighten new eden to the truth: that joseph is a man, not a messiah, and kind of a shitty one at that who abandoned them all.

3:50 - ethan’s first speech in new eden

ethan’s posturing here is just that; posturing. he’s putting on a bit of a show with the “non believer” bit. he does, however, not entirely trust outsiders nor would he trust that the people of new eden wouldn’t turn on him if he suggested that the captain go north. no, instead he plays off of what he expects the people will do to avoid potential rejection or rebellion. this plays off of his mistrust and suspicion of others, as well as serves to protect his secret interests (getting proof that joseph is dead to get new eden to move on from him) and his ego (tied to the bpd symptom of self image issues and unstable self realization).

ethan can’t help but be a bit sarcastic with “we are all his children”. sarcasm and unwarranted aloofness can tie into bpd, and here it definitely does due to his poor relationship with his father, and with the rumours surrounding his paternity in new eden.

while bpd does not inherently make people manipulative, manipulation of others is often something those with bpd adopt as a coping mechanism to manage their unstable relationships or unstable self image. ethan has adopted this trait in some ways and this is definitely one of them. he does not trust the people of new eden, and knows they wont listen to him fully. this is his main motivator for keeping his plan secret.

the fact that ethan feels he has to act a certain way when he’s the leader of new eden further contributes to his unstable self realization. he puts on different fronts to different people to try and both please them and protect himself.

when he says “they will at last understand that i am their prophet…”, this is in part because he feels he’s worked hard to be the inheritor of new eden. he’s not only joseph’s son (and even if he doesn’t like joseph he wants to be recognized as his biological son, making the rumours about his paternity even more hurtful) but he’s been a successful leader as far as we can tell. to think he will lose it all over a book is damn near panic inducing for ethan. well this is in part a kind of arrogance, it’s fueled by his extreme emotions/mood swings as well as how closely he ties his identity to his position within his community. because his self image is so unstable, threats to that cause him to act in ways that may seem irrational or extreme in order to try and protect his self image. also, ethan will only help the captain in exchange for something in part bc of his suspicion of others. he doesn’t want to offer new eden’s archers and resources without knowing that he will benefit in return. after all, if something goes wrong in new eden bc of this outsider and he allowed it, it’s his responsibility to take the blame and fix it.

5:20 - into the bliss

theres not much in this scene to tie to his bpd. one line i think is important though: “bring me proof of my fathers death and i will make sure you are remembered as a friend of the prophet”. well this can be interpreted as ethan saying to kill joseph, i dont think he is. ethan believes joseph is long gone, that he could never survive all alone for this long. ethan isn’t evil, he’s not asking someone to commit murder, he’s asking them to confirm that someone is already dead. sure, he’s self serving and he wants something in return for his allyship, but to him this is how he can ensure a fair trade, and that an outsider won’t take advantage of him or new eden as easily.

14:18 - ethan, interrupted

ethan’s big speech where joseph fuckin crashes it. at first, he literally does not even see joseph in the crowd. he truly believes he’s dead and that the captain will bring back proof of this. to him, adherence to his rule makes sense; he’s the leader, and things need to change. it is arrogant, because ethan has partially internalized a sense of superiority and entitlement because of his position as joseph’s son, and now heir to the rulership of new eden (he thinks). this combined with an unstable self esteem and self image makes him want total compliance to his rule. criticism, disobedience, they threaten his self worth and that can send him into an emotional spiral or severe mood swing. so, to try and avoid the negative consequences he experiences from perceived slights and rejections, he wants a clean slate and total adherence to his new rules.

when he actually sees joseph, he stops, stammers, and says “father?”. not the father. just father. in this moment, his father who abandoned him (who went out for smokes and never came back) has suddenly shown up in the middle of his speech about him being dead. his arm drops and he stands there, stunned and speechless. his first question is “where have you been?”. he wants to know why and he asks why. why did his father abandon them? abandon him? the answer is completely meaningless to him. it’s basic, it has no detail, and isn’t sufficient. he’s speechless again for a bit, breathing heavier and hyperventilating. he steps away from joseph. when joseph calls the captain god’s sword, ethan damn near does a double take. he’s literally standing in his father’s shadow while he exalts an outsider in front of his own son, after interrupting his speech and embarrassing him in front of everyone.

one of ethan’s symptoms is his overvaluing and undervaluing people in his life. this is when he switches from overvaluing the captain, putting too much faith and hope into them, to undervaluing and practically hating them. his relationship with his father is tenuous, and rocky. it is characterized by ethan’s intense desire to be josephs successor and publicly recognized as his son. ethan even calls out to joseph, upset about the fact that hes now suddenly and publicly being dethroned; joseph doesnt even look back at him. ethan rejects josephs words in anger. he has a sudden outburst in front of the crowd; yet another sudden spike in his emotions from a stressful situation causes him to say what he’s really thinking. “you abandoned me. you abandoned us.” ethan says joseph didn’t leave instructions or a message, just left ethan to lead with no idea how. he does the best job he can under these extreme circumstances, and now all of his hard work is for nothing. that would make even the most level headed neurotypical person upset. whenn ethan starts to lose the support of new eden, he breaks down a bit. the anchor of his self image has been completely ripped away from him in a moment. he storms off partially and his body language is pretty dire; head down, shoulders moving sharply like he’s breathing harshly, and then he turns to watch the crowd walk away from him. imo, part of why ethan doesn’t completely lose it in this scene is that he might be partially dissociating or beginning to dissociate or experience some de-realization from the sudden, acute emotional distress this moment causes for him.

17:45 - ethan’s response

this is when ethan says that the captain betrayed him. they had a deal. he completely put his trust into the captain, idealizing them as the person who could solve his problems, only for them to bring joseph back and make everything in ethans life worse. now, the pendulum swings to the other side where ethan begins to loathe the captain. saying that the captain should have killed joseph themselves is an expression of 1) the intense reactions people with bpd can have to certain situations and 2) his skewed logic because of it. what seems totally irrational to someone else might seem like the only logical solution to a problem for someone with bpd. the stress of such a painful, emotionally charged situation like this one. he never wants to see the captain again; on a dime he flips, from putting all of his trust and hope into one person to saying he never wants to see them again and that they betrayed him. this quick switch of very intense perceptions of others is a cycle of idealization and undervaluing that people with bpd may experience.

18:07 - ethan’s prayer letter

in this letter, ethan discusses how he feels he hates his father for the abandonment; how joseph “expected everything and gave nothing”, how ethan never got to really have joseph as a father for himself because he was too busy being THE father. he says wrath and envy grip him tight to the point he feels he can’t breathe. this is definitely indicative of ethans mood swings and intense emotions, especially the irrational anger and aggression many people with bpd can have. then, he says nobody but himself, his mother, and god can know about how he feels, and that he must put on a front for new eden and be a leader to them “no matter what”. this is absolutely something i can see being tied to his bpd. he is aware that expressing his thoughts, feelings, and reactions to others would probably get a negative reaction. he seeks to avoid that, as well as to avoid the judgment from others he thinks he would get. his unstable self image is complicated by the fact that he feels obligated to hide the symptoms of his illness, and pretend to be someone he isn’t. this only makes it worse, as he ties his social and therefore individual identity to “ruler of new eden”. he relies very much on the responses and reactions of others to gauge whether or not he seems “normal” or capable of doing his job.

18:27 - npc dialogue

ethan says that josephs followers see the prophecy coming to light, but ethan sees it as a chance for new eden to make its own path. this is also when ethan says that he is josephs biological son, and that his mother raised him outside of hope county and brought him there when he was young to be raised by joseph. she died from an illness on their journey. this is some pretty significant baggage for ethan. he wants new eden, and himself, to become independent. the only reason he stays in new eden is because of his mother. he loves her, and idealizes her in a way that never flips to undervaluing because the relationship is one sided since her passing.

19:23 - megan’s letter to joseph

this is important just bc it states megan raised ethan as a non believer but after the collapse taught him about joseph’s word. this is important for ethan because it means he had to relearn some pretty significant things after the apocalypse, including a whole new religion and worldview. this can be very confusing for a child, and in part explains why ethan isn’t totally on board with josephs word, or the all of new eden’s beliefs surrounding him; his earliest formative years had nothing to do with joseph seed or prophets or collapses. he had to convert, and did so as a child who couldn’t really understand or make that choice for himself. he is tied to new eden solely because of megan, and without her wish to have him be josephs heir, he would’ve left long ago.

20:08 - intermission/flashback

this is when we see a young babby ethan get nasty with joseph. this is an early sign of his bpd developing. he has an intense reaction and says something very hurtful to his father over not getting what he wants, which isn’t just the apple but his father’s approval. to him, this is another rejection by joseph, or it is perceived that way by a young ethan. constantly being told something wasn’t gods plan, or it isn’t part of a prophecy without further explanation was confusing and frustrating for ethan growing up. he wanted the apple to be like his father; he wanted the apple to feel integrated into his community like the others who were given the gift. this denial, one that is permanent and leaves no room for ethan to change or grow and become capable of handling its strength leaves him feeling defeated and angry. his reaction of “you are an old man, and when you die i will take one” shows a very quick emotional shift and a shift from idolizing his father and wanting to be like him to practically hating him, becoming cold and distant in mere moments.

21:16 - joseph’s worry

“ethan’s sin is pride. there is something deep inside him that no word of mine can touch. i worry that now as an outsider appears to take his place that beast will feed on resentment and grow stronger. ” YEAH ITS BPD YA DINGUS fdpgpfd but more seriously, ethans pride is a coping mechanism to deal with his ever changing self image and self worth. its a rigid barrier to keep others from knowing how weak he really feels, and how uncertain he is of himself.

23:25 - ethan’s betrayal

this is where ethan betrays new eden and sets them up so the highwaymen can destroy the settlement. he tolerates the highwaymen laughing at him only so he can get what he wants: revenge. this extreme response is from his bpd. his impulsive anger, and the extremes his mind goes to won out and he acted on his violent thoughts.

26:26 - ethan and the fruit

when joseph asks ethan what hes done (referring to betraying new eden), ethan says: “i did what i had to do. i freed myself, i freed us all from you, from your rules.”. to ethan this was logical. this was something he had to do. he didn’t take pleasure in it, he didn’t go into new eden and kill everyone himself. no, he handed them over to the highwaymen in a desperate, out of touch moment. the spark was there and his disorder was gasoline that helped the flames to spread. he reacted intensely, out of irrationally extreme anger, towards an entire group of people he had shifted to undervaluing. he felt betrayed so he returned in kind, but no matter how wrong that was ethan couldnt see it.

“i will have what you denied me. you gave it to an outsider but you wouldn’t give it to me. i am your flesh and blood” and explosively tells joseph he doesnt know gods will. he lashes out against his father, arguing with him and rebelling directly by taking the one thing joseph kept him from that he truly wanted. to ethan, in my hc, the apple is more than just power and more than just something he covets. its a symbol of joseph’s fatherhood, of his love; he gave it to everyone but ethan, his own son, and now he would take what he wanted from life with or without josephs input.

31:08 - the death of ethan seed

the first thing ethan says after he sees joseph is “father… i’m sorry”. he’s scared. he knows he’s going to die. he asks if joseph can forgive him. he knows he’s fucked up, obviously, not just by eating the apple but by betraying new eden. his last word is “father”. no matter how torn his relationship was with joseph, he wanted his father’s love. he wanted connection with his father. he wanted to feel validated, have his identity confirmed, even in his last moments.

#hc #repost from old blog

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justauthoring · 6 years

Text

Five Seconds - John Murphy

Request: Hey! I was wondering if I could get a John Murphy x reader where the readers with him and raven and the reader and Murphy are a thing but nothings official/ they haven’t told eachother. so they torture the reader and John almost breaks. Bc they put her through a lot of physical trauma so he just hold her?

john murphy x reader request - reader went up to space with bellamy and co. and everyone sort of gives murphy a hard time and he is his typically sarcastic murphy self with everyone except the reader. the reader is sort of the only one murphy will listen to and be kind to. and one day she asks john why shes the only one he treats that way and, although it is really difficult for him to open up, admits that he has feelings for her

A/N: The reader replaces Raven in this fic - so, she’s gone down with the rest and is just as good as a hacker as Raven. not as good? but pretty good.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Requests are OPEN for Fairy Tail characters and couples!!!

“Please!” You cried, your words slurring as you pulled on the restraints that bounded your wrists together. “I don’t know! I swear, I don’t know!”

McCreary only leaned in closer, gripping the back of your head tightly. The collar around your neck stretched your skin, making it hurt along with the severe burning sensation. You felt your breath quicken as McCreary leaned closer to you, already struggling enough to breathe with the gag around your mouth.

McCreary only smiled down at you, as if he got some sort of sick amusement out of torturing you - but you figured, he did, given that he was a criminal. You swallowed thickly, nearly choking on your own spit as he raised the remote that control your shock collar. You knew he was only teasing you, or possibly making sure you understand the threat that was at hand. Either way, you didn’t care - you just wanted the pain to end.

You shifted your head the best you could within his tight grip, trying to stop yourself from gagging. “I don’t know...” You whispered pathetically, your shoulders shuddering.

“I wish I could believe you.” McCreary muttered under his breath, shaking his head. You flinched when he let go of your head, it snapping forward before his hand fell on your cheek, softly gracing it. You told yourself he was only trying to trick you, make you believe he was trying to make you feel better for a moment before he’d press that button again and it’d all be over.

You told yourself that. You knew that was true. But after so long of being shocked, you couldn’t help but find comfort in his warmth. In your head, for a moment, it was almost like this had never happened.

And then, it was gone the next second.

“Tell me!”

You let out a scream, feeling the sharp burning sensation run through your entire body. Your elbows locked, your back straightening as your body shook rapidly. You clenched your teeth together so tightly you felt like the crack underneath the weight.

“Stop!” You heard a voice yell, “come on, McCreary just stop!”

Suddenly, the pain stopped, and you felt your body thud against the ground as it un-tensed. You took deep breaths, trying to calm both your racing heart and breath itself. Blinking a few times, you tried to clear your vision and focus on what was happening before you.

“What’s the matter with you?” Zeke spat, pulling the controller from McCreary’s hand. “Just let me talk to her alone, and i’ll get it out of her.”

You don’t want possessed you to say, but you felt a surge of anger run through you at Zeke’s words. “Like hell you’re getting anything out of me,” you spat, mumbling through the gag still. Coughing slightly as you pushed yourself to sit up. “My answer won’t change. I didn’t do it!”

“Stop lying!” McCreary screamed, rushing towards you. You felt your breath stop for a moment, meeting the man’s eyes head on. Before you knew it, you were sniffling, trying desperately to hold back your tears.

For some odd reason, McCreary seemed to sigh, as if in regret, letting his hand fall once again on your cheek. It was a soft touch at first, but slowly you felt his nails dig into the skin of your cheek, making you wince slightly. “I don’t need that controller to hurt you sweetheart.”

Before you knew it, you were doubling over as a sharp punch was delivered to your gut. You let out a groan, but then there was a knee connecting with your jaw, sending your heart snapping back. You cried out in pain, your eyes twisting shut.

You saw, out of the corner of your eye, McCreary raised his fist again and despite yourself, you let out a scream; “John!”

McCreary paused, as if confusion. “John?” Then realization lit in his gaze, and you felt your heart plummet. Before you knew it, he was making his way over to the door, “bring him in!”

“Wait, no!” You cried, your words even more muffled due to your panic. “Wait! Please no!”

But it was too late, because the next moment two guards were hauling Murphy into the room. It almost seemed like time froze as you met his gaze, and then his eyes were narrowing dangerously and he was kicking widely. You felt your heart break at the sight of him, curling into yourself.

Murphy didn’t get very far with his struggle though, and soon kicks and punches were being delivered at him to tame done.

“Please,” you cried, voice cracking. “He didn’t do anything! Just stop it!”

The two guards slammed Murphy up against the bench adjacent to you, McCreary leaning over him within seconds. You noticed the sharp knife now pressed against Murphy’s throat. “Now, which one of you killed my good friend Kodiak on the mothership?”

You felt your body freeze as McCreary looked back at you.

“McCreary, just back the hell up.”

McCreary only retaliated by pressing down on harder on the knife. “You have five seconds to tell me how to unlock those missiles. One.”

You shook your head; “I don’t know.”

“Two.”

Taking in a deep breath, you met Murphy’s eyes. “Please!! I don’t know!”

“Three.”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Four!”

“Please-”

Your eyes widened, watching as Zeke pulled a gun on McCreary. “Put down the knife.” You felt your body freeze, watching with anticipation.

McCreary slowly glanced up at Zeke; “you’re making a mistake.”

“Yeah?” Zeke questioned, “wouldn’t be the first time. Now, get out. All of you.”

“I may not be able to kill you...” McCreary threatened, standing up. “But you don’t need your legs to fly.”

The moment McCreary was up and gone from Murphy, you found yourself crawling over to him, despite the threat that still lingered in the room. You leaned heavily against Murphy, despite the sweat that rolled down you and stared back at McCreary as he gave you one last threatening look before exiting the room.

Murphy reached forward, pulling the gag from your lips, before pulling the one out of his lips. “Are you okay?” He questioned, sitting up and staring at you worriedly.

You nodded, “you?” You questioned, letting him untie your hands. The moment you were free, you let your hands fall on his cheeks, cupping them.

Murphy nodded silently, letting his arms wrap around your waist as you confided in his warmth. He’d heard your screams and he’d go to hell before he let Zeke get anywhere near you, even if he had just helped them.

“Don’t tell him anything.”

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

#the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 x reader #john #murphy #john murphy #john murphy imagine #john murphy x reader #murphy imagine #murphy x reader #the 100 murphy #imagine #imagines #drabble #drabbles #prompt #prompts #request #requested

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