#like no sorry i love him but i am also DEEPLY embarrassed for him at all times its a problem

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 03 - Freundschaft]

• Freundschaft (German; noun: friendship)

Focus on Pairing: platonic!Yoongi x Taehyung

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, they finally fucking talk it out, they're actually best friends i'm sorry i don't make the rules, no but seriously they both needed this moment, this is also very emotional actually, i'm sobbing i love them SO MUCH

Wordcount: 9.5k

a/n: *cries* i love them so much holy fuck

Yoongi and your grandparents stay downstairs for another hour before sleepiness starts to take a hold of them as well.

“Oh, I’m tired”, your grandmother says in a yawn.

“Me too”, your grandfather agrees, having to yawn as well.

Yoongi yawns with them, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t even realise how tired they were from using them all day. He never really gets tired eyes in the real world.

“Will you still stay up?”

“I think I wanna finish the chapter, yeah.”

“Alright”, your grandparents stands up.

“Well then, sleep tight my boy.”

“Oh, uhm, sleep tight too, H-Harald”, Yoongi stutters, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Sweet dreams, dear.”

“You too, Agatha.”

They leave holding hands while Yoongi is left gawking at the empty room with a racing heart. They like him. Something inside him finally clicked which made him realise that he is actually liked by them.

Yoongi lowers his head, scrunching his face in giddiness. They like him. He continues reading with his mind going back to the interaction over and over again. It never loses its spark and maybe he plans on telling you about it tomorrow.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi lifts his eyes from the book. He already finished another chapter before being called. Taehyung is in front of him, wearing a jacket. He seems to come from outside as he smells like the night.

“Do you have some time?” he asks shyly.

“For what?”

“To spend it with me.”

Yoongi checks the clock.

“It’s half past eleven.”

“I know, but I wondered if perhaps we could go for a walk in the garden.”

“Did you ask the others?”

“Huh? Aren’t they sleeping already?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Fine”, Yoongi gives up and stands up with a sigh, “you’re not gonna leave me alone either way.”

“Thank you so much. Oh, how happy I am”, Taehyung says and hurries to the coat stand to pick up Yoongi’s jacket, “let me help you.”

“I can put on my own jacket”, Yoongi says and snatches it away, “I’m not gonna act like a lovedrunk idiot with you, just so you know.”

“So you won’t even hold my hand?”

“Don’t make this weird or I’ll leave.”

“Oh, I was merely joking with you”, Taehyung says, nudging his arm, “I am very well aware that you cannot seem to like me, which is very hurtful if I may mention it.”

“It’s nothing personal”, Yoongi says and puts on his shoes. He finishes his look with a headband which he pulls over his ears then goes to open the door, “let’s go. I wanna be done with it.”

Taehyung follows him outside, joining his side. Yoongi inhales deeply and exhales, sticking his hands into the pocket of his jacket to make sure Taehyung can’t hold them.

“Now we’re outside. It’s cold and dark. Is that what you wanted?”

“Please can you at least attempt to meet me with less hatred?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi studies his features, “yeah, I’ll try. Where should we walk? It’s dark”, he mumbles with slight embarrassment in his voice.

“Follow me, I know the way”, Taehyung says and takes off.

Yoongi follows behind him. Fireflies guide their way. Taehyung seems to lead him to the animal shed. There is the faint red shine of the warming lamp in the distance.

“It’s peculiar isn’t it? To think that we lived centuries being able to see in the dark and now we are helpless.”

“Yeah, it’s weird.”

“We became so used to the conveniences.”

“Yeah.”

Lights flicker on just as they pass the lavender beds. Your grandfather installed motion sensor controlled garden lights along the path. They guide their steps, making it a lot easier to see.

“That’s better”, Taehyung says to which Yoongi agrees with a hum.

The two men walk a few steps and then Taehyung talks again.

“How have you accustomed to being human again?”

“It’s alright.”

“Truly?” Taehyung stops to turn and look at Yoongi, “you spent thousands of years wishing to be human and now that you are, you think it is merely alright?”

Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “it’s good”, he confesses, “I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you.”

“You’re so cold to me”, Taehyung says and touches his heart, “it breaks my heart. Oh, why am I still trying to make you like me?”

Yoongi knows that he is joking. He lets a small scoff escape, reaching out to push at Taehyung’s chest gently.

“Walk, you brat”, he says and joins his side.

Taehyung glances at him, feeling happy. Yoongi is like a stray cat. One must be patient and give him space to make him comfortable. Only then will one be rewarded with warm moments.

The two men reach the animal shed.

“Here”, Taehyung says and tugs Yoongi to the right.

“Where are we going? The path’s that way.”

“I know, but I want to go this way.”

The automatic light flicker on. They pass them and disappear in the darkness again. New lights flicker on, showing them the way. At the end of the path a burning fire waits for them. There is a blanket and some pillows next to it.

“Are we going to the bonfire?”

“Yes indeed”, Taehyung says.

“Did you prepare a picnic?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung.

“I told you that I don’t wanna be romanced by you.”

“I am not trying to romance you, hyung. I am trying to bromance you.”

Yoongi scoffs at the silly wordplay, following Taehyung down the path despite his complaints.

“Fine. Any sign of you trying to make a move on me though and I’m gone.”

“I won’t make a move on you”, Taehyung promises and stops by the fire. He points at the blanket, “get comfortable.”

Yoongi follows even when he pretends to sulk. Taehyung takes off his shoes and gets on the blanket as well. Yoongi, who watched him, also takes off his shoes, stretching his feet to the fire afterwards. The warmth is intense, but he likes it. The night is really chilly here. Despite how warm the days are.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing you a drink”, Taehyung answers him, “I also made a few snacks if you get hungry.”

“That’s what you were making behind me? Where I couldn’t look?”

“Indeed.”

“And you didn’t set the whole kitchen on fire?”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. You should trust me more, hyung. I am a very skilled cook.”

“Yeah sure”, Yoongi laughs.

“You offend me, hyung. I put a lot of effort into tonight”, Taehyung says as he pours red wine into a glass. He hands it to Yoongi, who accepts it. Once Taehyung filled his own glass, the two men clink glasses, avoiding eye contact. At least Yoongi does, Taehyung is very much staring at his face.

“To a lovely night.”

“Yeah.”

They drink the wine.

“And?”

“It’s good. It’d be better to let it breathe for a bit.”

“I agree, but it’s still very delicious. The richness of the grapes truly coats the entire tongue.”

“Mhm yeah.”

“Eat some cheese to it, hyung. I cut it myself”, Taehyung offers, pointing at a prettily done cheese board. He decorated it with flowers from the garden and cut some baguette to go with it.

“Thanks”, Yoongi says and picks up some brie.

“Here. Pair it with baguette and fig. It tastes wonderful this way.”

Yoongi allows Taehyung to prepare the perfect bite, but flinches back when he attempts to feed it to him.

“I’ll do it myself, don’t make it weird”, he mumbles.

“Very well”, Taehyung says, “you are such an anti-romantic.”

“I can be romantic.”

“Of course. How does it taste?”

“Good.”

“Oh how wonderful”, Taehyung giggles happily, “eat as much as you want, hyung. I made it just for this occasion.”

“Mhm.”

The two men share silence for a while. Yoongi doesn’t think the silence in itself is uncomfortable, but the fact that he has to share it with Taehyung. While Taehyung thinks the silence in itself to be uncomfortable as his mind scrambles to come up with topics to talk about. He doesn’t want Yoongi to feel as if coming with him was a waste of time.

“What do you think of the wine, hyung?”

“You asked me that already.”

“Indeed? Oh silly me. I apologise”, Taehyung says and fumbles with his hair. He downs his wine and prepares another glass.

Yoongi watches him from the corners of his eyes. The nervousness is practically wafting off of Taehyung.

“It goes well with the cheese”, Yoongi says.

“Indeed?”

“Yeah. It fits well”, Yoongi praises and finishes his own glass, “can I have another?”

“Yes of course. Drink as much as you want to and eat! Yes, eat just as much!”

“I will, Tae. Thanks.”

There is silence again, but it doesn’t feel that uncomfortable anymore. They drink wine, eat delicious cheese and share the warmth of the fire. Taehyung knows that Yoongi isn’t the person who always needs to talk a lot, so the silence doesn’t feel that heavy anymore. Yoongi seems content, he seems to enjoy the food and wine and he seems to enjoy the fire. Taehyung still wants to talk with him. He hasn’t had a proper conversation with him in ages.

“Did you work on new music lately?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. What genre?”

“Acoustic. Yeah”, Yoongi touches the side of his neck shyly, “I like it lately.”

“Indeed? I believe it fits you, hyung.”

“Why?”

“Because acoustic reminds me of feeling at home. You seem to be at home these days.” 

Yoongi looks away and lowers his head.

“I guess”, he whispers, hiding his hands in his sweater paws before stuffing them between his thighs shyly. 

“Do you have some of your music here? I would love to listen to it.”

Yoongi hesitates at first. 

“Please?”

“Okay”, he gives in and takes out his phone, “I uhm, saved them on my phone. They’re not finished yet, but I think that they’re already really good”, he says and presses play on a song. 

The two men listen to it intently, sipping on wine and snacking on cheese. Yoongi is shy. Even a blind person could see so. He is shy, but not uncomfortable. In his own kind of way he seems even proud of himself. Yes, he really seems content with his own work. 

The song finishes with Yoongi strumming on the guitar. Silence follows. 

“Yeah, that’s it”, he murmurs, flinching in surprise when Taehyung starts clapping. 

“Wow hyung, this was wonderful!” Taehyung exclaims, “I didn’t know that you could sing and oh so well at that.”

“Thanks. I think I sing well”, he agrees.

“You truly do. Your voice is very soothing and fits the genre very well. Do you have any idea on what you will call the song?”

“No, not yet. Maybe something nice.”

“Something nice would fit the melodies very well.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side slightly. Taehyung meets his eyes.

“Do you really think it’s good?”

“Of course I do. I enjoyed it. Honestly.”

“Okay. Thanks”, Yoongi says and looks into his phone.

Taehyung glances at the screen. Yoongi is scrolling up and down on the same spot, almost as if he is waiting for Taehyung to ask him about it.

“Do you have more songs to show?”

“Yeah, I guess”, Yoongi says and presses play on the song. It starts off with the piano, but soon guitar and Yoongi’s gentle rapping joins the melody.

The two men listen to it as they drink and snack and share the warmth of the fire. 

They each finish their drink in the middle of the song and so Taehyung makes it his task to refill their glasses. Yoongi thanks him with a silent nod. The song ends abruptly. 

“I didn’t get to the end yet”, Yoongi says, “sorry, that was shit.” 

“No, it wasn’t. It was wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, truly. I love your music, hyung.”

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out and blushes vividly. Thankfully for him, the wine and the heat of the fire already turned his face red, so a new layer of blush goes unnoticed by Taehyung.

“I was actually wondering whether you could write melodies for me. Unless you have more songs to show”, Taehyung says.

“No, all the others are still rough drafts”, Yoongi says and glances at Taehyung “what do you mean with melodies?”

“Well, you see”, Taehyung begins and takes out his leatherbound notebook from the inside of his jacket, “I have this poem, which has such potential for a song, but I am terrible at composing”, he explains and lies down on his tummy. His feet still face the fire, he is propped up on his elbows.

Yoongi stays in the same position, craning his neck to look. 

“Would you want to take a look?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Yoongi tries to see in the current position at first, but has to give up in the end. He lies down on his tummy as well, mirroring Taehyung’s position.

“It’s dark.”

Taehyung shines his phone flashlight on the pages.

“Does this help?”

“Yeah.”

The two men share silence. Yoongi reads and snacks while Taehyung stares at his face and feels nervous. It’s been centuries since he last showed his friend his poetry. And it has been even longer since he asked him to write melodies for him, maybe he never even did. Centuries make memories blur, so Taehyung can’t remember clearly. He feels nervous beyond recovery. 

Yoongi ends the poem with a quiet hum.

“And? What are your thoughts on it?” 

“It’s romantic.”

“Yes indeed. I thought about my favourite things to do with my loves and slow dancing came to my mind. So I wrote a poem about it.”

“It’s good”, Yoongi says and glances at him, “I have ideas for a song.”

“Truly? Oh hyung, this is wonderful news! I feel beyond delighted.”

“Do you want to make it jazz?”

“Yes! Yes, I would love to make it jazz!”

“Or maybe retro RnB with some jazz elements.” 

“Oh hyung, you are truly a visionary. I love every idea you have. We could make it so that the instruments get a solo part to really make them shine.”

“Yeah, I like that.”

“We have to start working on it once we are back home.”

“Yeah.”

“We will finally be able to have our music nights again”, Taehyung says and caresses Yoongi’s upper arm gently.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi fumbles with the edge of the page. He doesn’t dare to flip it because it would invade Taehyung’s privacy. 

“Do you want to see something else?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Taehyung flips through his notebook until he lands on the drawings he did for your bedroom. 

“It’s not finished yet, but this is my vision for ___’s bedroom. I am thinking flowers and branches reaching from the ceilings. What do you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Yoongi says, tracing the floral sketches with gentle fingertips. 

“If you have any ideas which I could incorporate, please let me know.”

“I don’t know. I’m not good at painting. Or art.”

“Oh, that is a lie. You are talented.”

“Not like you. I can’t paint like you”, Yoongi says and shakes his head. 

“Yes, but you have your own style. Wonderful and beautiful because it’s yours.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung. The latter smiles at him, flustering Yoongi to the point where he has to hide away. He lies down on the blanket, resting his head on his own arm. Like this, he is looking up at Taehyung.

“I can’t paint, stop fucking around”, he hisses, but Taehyung merely chuckles and reaches down to caress Yoongi’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Very well, you stubborn bastard”, he says and flips his hand so his fingertips were dancing along Yoongi’s temple. He ends the touch with a slow trace of Yoongi’s brow, retreating it afterwards to instead flip through his notebook.

Yoongi allowed it to happen with silence surrounding him and his eyes never once leaving his face. He keeps staring at him even after the touch stopped.

“I have another poem. Do you want to hear it?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s in our mother tongue. Ever since I am with Jungkook, I find myself thinking in this language more often. In a sense, this poem is dedicated to him.”

“Read it to me.”

And so it happens that Taehyung reads his poetry to Yoongi, while Yoongi looks at him and enjoys the warmth on his toes. He listens to Taehyung’s words intently and wonders if the young vampire has always been so dreamy with his words. And then he wonders if he has always been so gentle and why he felt the need to touch his face in such ways.

Taehyung ends the poem with a shivering voice. 

“Oh dear”, he lets out and wipes at his eyes, glancing at Yoongi, “I am tearing up.”

“It’s okay”, Yoongi speaks softly.

“I always tell myself that I won’t become too emotional, but I truly can’t help myself. I am in love with him. Just thinking about him makes me want to cry. Oh dear, this isn’t like me at all”, he says and laughs softly, drying his eyes as best as possible.

“It’s okay”, Yoongi assures him and reaches up to wipe the tears from Taehyung’s cheek.

The latter falters for breath, gawking at him with widened eyes. The touch surprised him so greatly that he forgets to cry. 

Yoongi ends the touch with a gentle nudge to Taehyung’s chin, afterwards he retreats his hand and hides it under his head.

Taehyung doesn’t dare to speak. He is left staring at Yoongi and feeling short of breath. His heart is threatening to give up in his chest, his thoughts are messy but one thought is clearer than all else. Is this truly his friend? Such tenderness, Taehyung never experienced from him before.

“The poem is nice. I could write melodies for it”, Yoongi breaks the silence.

“You”, Taehyung has to clear his throat, “hyung, this would make me incredibly happy. Oh, hyung thank you.”

“Mhm, yeah. You could perform it for Kook once it’s finished. He will love it a lot.” 

“I truly hope that he will. Oh, I want to make this man so happy. Sometimes I fear that I am too much, that I will scare him away one day because I overwhelmed him with too much love.”

“There’s no such thing as too much love, Tae, there’s just a thing as the wrong receiver.”

“The wrong receiver?”

“Don’t lessen your love, Tae. A cactus dies in too much water, while a water lily thrives. There is no such thing as too much, there are just wrong receivers. Jungkook’s the right one, trust me.”

“Hyung, thank you I…” Taehyung exhales shakily, “oh, I have so much love to give to him. If I could, I would steal the stars just to give them to him. You have no idea, hyung.”

“No, I do”, Yoongi whispers and smiles softly, “he’ll cry so much when he hears the song.”

Taehyung chuckles and drops down, nuzzling his face into his own arm as he beams at Yoongi.

“He will. Oh, he is such a gentle soul.” 

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees with a chuckle, “I hope he never changes.”

“Yes, yes I agree. He’s perfect the way he is”, Taehyung says with love drunk eyes, “I plan to take him on a summer holiday soon. Perhaps Greece. It is so terribly romantic there.”

Yoongi studies Taehyung’s features intently enough that Taehyung feels shy.

“What is it, hyung?” he whispers.

“I haven’t seen you so in love before.”

“That’s not true. I love ___ just as deeply.”

“You weren’t like this with her. You were a cunt and a show-off.” 

Taehyung chuckles, “I guess you are right. Oh, I regret a lot in my life. I try to make it right, but sometimes I am scared that I won’t ever be able to fix it.”

“Don’t try so hard.”

“But if I won’t, then it won’t ever be enough.”

“You’re already enough, Tae.”

Taehyung flusters, looking away.

He touches his own hair, scrambling for words.

“Hyung I…” he begins, “hyung, I feel wrong at times.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel as if I am trying to force myself into a situation I have no right to be in”, he says and looks into Yoongi’s eyes, “when Jimin was dead, I did so much wrong and, and afterwards as well. And although I shouldn’t feel this way, I feel as if I was never meant to be part of this family again. Sometimes I am scared that all of you merely pretend to be alright with me being here.”

Yoongi furrows his brows.

“I know. How silly of me to think this way. How utterly and stupidly self-obsessed. The world doesn’t revolve around me and yet here I am, feeling sorry for myself.”

“It’s not self-obsessed, Tae. You have worries and still feel guilty for your past. I understand those feelings all too well, but you shouldn’t feel this way. You acted like shit in the past, yeah, but you’re not that person anymore.”

“Do you truly think this way?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think that you would.”

“Why?”

“Because you are always so mean to me.”

Yoongi falters. Taehyung shies away, lowering his eyes.

“It hurts me so much when you’re always so terrible to me, hyung”, Taehyung confesses in a whisper.

Yoongi stays silent.

“I apologise”, Taehyung whispers, “it, it’s alright. I understand why you are this way. I shouldn’t ask you to change for me.”

“No, you should”, Yoongi interrupts him.

Taehyung lifts his eyes, holding his breath.

“I think I’ve been unfair to you”, Yoongi confesses.

“What?” Taehyung gasps.

“It’s hard for me to accept that you’re not the reckless, snobby brat from the past anymore. That’s all I’ve known you as for centuries, but I have to give you a chance to prove yourself as someone different. You’re allowed to better yourself. I’m sorry for acting like a cunt, Tae.”

“Do you mean that?” Taehyung presses out.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Hyung”, Taehyung tears up, “oh hyung”, he whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Hey, don’t cry kiddo”, Yoongi whispers, cupping Taehyung’s cheek to wipe the tears from his lashes.

“Oh hyung, I’m so happy”, Taehyung presses out and flings himself around Yoongi’s neck. He traps him in a tight hug, his arms are slung around him and his legs closed tightly around Yoongi’s waist.

“Yah! Stop that”, Yoongi complains, finding himself smothered in Taehyung’s chest as the latter rolls around the blanket with him. Yoongi ends up chuckling, “you’re so stupid, Tae. Let me go.”

“Oh hyung, we will be such good friends”, Taehyung giggles and nuzzles into Yoongi’s face just to kiss his cheek.

“Tae stop”, Yoongi laughs, pushing his face away gently, “you’re weirding me out.”

Taehyung pulls back, releasing Yoongi from his tight hug. The latter wiggles away instantly, nudging Taehyung’s cheek.

“You’re a brat. I regret everything I said”, he says, making Taehyung laugh. Yoongi smiles, giving Taehyung’s chin one last gentle nudge. Then he rolls to his back and sits up, taking his glass of wine to drink it as his eyes stare into the orange flames.

Taehyung sits up as well, studying Yoongi’s features.

“I feel happy, hyung.”

Yoongi nods his head, “me too.”

“I mean it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We will be such good friends.”

“I see”, Yoongi says and nods his head, “yeah”, he glances at Taehyung, “I don’t want you trying to romance me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I won’t try. All I wanted for years was to be your friend, hyung. This is everything I wanted.”

“Mhm, good.”

“I will however cuddle with you and give you kisses.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose up and clicks his tongue, “if you have to”, he murmurs.

“I do”, Taehyung says and scoots closer to hug Yoongi’s waist and rest his chin on his shoulder, “you will be so fed up with me by the end of it.”

“It’s gonna happen sooner than later. I hate PDA.”

“No, you don’t. You give ___ PDA all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s my love, yeah.”

“That’s good, hyung. The two of you are meant for each other”, Taehyung says and sits up. He wiggles his toes and drinks his wine. Then he lets out a loud sigh, tilting his head up to stare into the sky. Millions of stars look down at them, “this world is truly fascinating.”

Yoongi inhales and lifts his head. He exhales, “yeah, Namjoon did nice stuff as well.”

“It feels impossible for me to imagine. He traumatised me incredibly.”

“I know Tae. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi lets out and lies down. He starts counting the stars but soon gives up, “do you think that every witch that ever lived is here?”

“Mhm, yes I think so.”

“Mhm.”

Taehyung snacks on some grapes and enjoys a sip of his wine. He really likes the taste of it. It’s already warmed up from the fire, but he doesn’t mind. It still tastes sweet, tasting even sweeter because he is finally Yoongi’s friend. Taehyung loves being Yoongi’s friend.

“Do you think that witches return to be witches once they’re dead?”

“I don’t seem to understand this question, hyung.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Taehyung turns, studying Yoongi’s features. The latter, who looked at the sky at first, shifts his attention to Taehyung. He seems flustered.

“Talk to me, hyung. There is something weighing on your heart, isn’t there?”

“No, there’s not.”

“You don’t have to lie to me”, Taehyung says and lies down on his tummy. The two men can see eye to eye this way, “you can trust me, hyung.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs.

“I was just wondering. What if a witch became a vampire against their will, would their soul return to being a witch once they’re dead? Would they be able to enter this world or will their soul be too cursed by vampirism to enter?”

“I have to think about this for a moment”, Taehyung confesses.

“It’s okay. It’s fucking stupid either way”, Yoongi murmurs.

“No, it’s not. I will think about it”, Taehyung assures him and rolls to his back.

They share silence. The fire crackles by their feet, the crickets sing their nightly song and the forest is alive in various kinds of rustling and animal calls. They’re both a little chilly. It’s been centuries since they last felt truly cold. They’re also very tipsy from the wine. It’s been just as long since they felt so truly drunk. It’s a vulnerable state they find themselves in. Human and so utterly prone to outside influences that it would be a scary state to be in if they weren’t so safe in each other’s presence.

“I thought of my answer”, Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Tell me”, Yoongi whispers and so Taehyung speaks quietly as well.

“I think that a witch will return to being a witch once they die. You said that they were cursed against their will and I believe that death will lift the curse from their soul.”

“So you think that they can find peace here?”

“Yes I believe so”, Taehyung says with confidence in his voice.

“Good”, Yoongi says and exhales shakily, “yeah, that’s good.”

Taehyung turns his head to Yoongi.

“Why do you ask such a question, hyung?” he asks and widens his eyes, “no hyung!”

“Huh?”

Taehyung sits up, “no! Just no! Why would you think like this? Why?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Taehyung shakes his head vigorously and grabs Yoongi by his shoulders.

“Why do you still think about dying? Why would you kill yourself just to enter this world? Why do you still think this way?” Taehyung presses out with a trembling emotion in his voice.

“What?” Yoongi gasps and sits up, “I wasn’t thinking for myself, you idiot.”

“But…what else were you thinking?”

Yoongi lowers his head and touches the side of his neck.

“My friends”, he whispers.

“Your friends?”

“The other Creators who died. Do you think that they found peace here?”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and touches his own chest, “I feel such relief right now. Oh hyung, you gave me such a fright.”

“I don’t want to die these days”, Yoongi says.

“Good. This is good”, Taehyung says and hugs Yoongi again even if the latter grumbles in distaste, “you just became my friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Okay, okay I got it”, Yoongi laughs, patting his head, “now let go of me.”

“No”, Taehyung murmurs, “I have to hug you, hyung.”

“Fine.”

Taehyung gives him a little squeeze.

“I think that your friends are in this world”, he says into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi feels his voice against his skin this way.

“You do?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and relaxes, “maybe I’ll find them one day. How endless do you think this world is?”

“I can’t tell. I know even less about magic than you.”

“I never understood this world. This was always Namjoon’s expertise. I keep wondering how far away my friends are or how similar to the real world it is. What about time differences? My friends died thousands of years ago. They don’t know automatic lights or modern sanitary systems. Does their world look different than that of ___’s grandparents? Does every witch’s world look different depending on when they died? Isn’t it incredibly lonely like this?”

“I don’t think that I have answers to these questions, but I do believe that this world isn’t lonely.”

“You do?”

“Yes. The real world is lonely enough and I believe that the loneliness stops here. This isn’t a world of punishment, but of peace”, Taehyung says and sits up to look at the stars, “if you asked me, witches of every time period live here together. I think that this world evolved as the real world evolved. Your friends may have started off this world without electricity or running water, but as time passed and witches from different time periods entered this realm, it evolved with them.”

“Maybe.”

“Or perhaps this is a world of many different times. Maybe your friends still live how you lived three thousand years ago while ___’s grandparents live in their time period. Perhaps we can traverse time here and visit each other’s time.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Whatever it may be, I believe that your friends are at peace.”

“I wonder if they would recognise me if I ever meet them again.”

“I believe that they would”, Taehyung says and glances at Yoongi, “perhaps we could look for them.”

Yoongi lowers his head, “I was wondering the same.”

“You were?”

Yoongi nods his head.

“Oh hyung, then we ought to do so”, Taehyung says, taking Yoongi’s hand.

“I don’t know if I want this.”

“But you said so yourself that you were thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it and actually doing it are two very different things.”

“And what would be so bad about actually doing it? How else will you make new memories? How else will you find out if they’re at peace?”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung. The latter meets his eyes.

“Thinking about it can’t hurt me”, Yoongi whispers.

“I see. Oh hyung, you live in your thoughts too much. What would have happened if you over thought ___ as well?”

“That never would have happened because she gave me no chance to even think about it. She just made me fall in love with her”, Yoongi says and makes Taehyung laugh with it.

“Yes indeed, she is so incredibly stubborn once she wants something.”

“Yeah, I hope she never changes.”

“Yes indeed. She is perfect the way she is”, Taehyung agrees and smiles with Yoongi. He squeezes his hand, “but you see? Because you had no time to over think it into ruin, you can now live in happiness. You told me that you don’t want to die these days hyung, and it is all because you didn’t overthink.”

Yoongi looks away, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“So I think that we should attempt to look for your friends. It will make you happy.”

“I guess”, Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “not this time. We’ll visit this world a lot more. I’m not ready yet.”

“I understand. Then we’ll do it next time”, Taehyung says, caressing Yoongi’s knuckles, “I love it here, so I hope to visit it many more times.”

“Mhm yeah”, Yoongi agrees, “how do you like being human?”

“Oh, it’s exhausting”, Taehyung laughs, “it has only been two days and I already have enough of it.”

“Really?” Yoongi chuckles, “why? I think it’s nice.”

“Why is it nice? I have to eat and drink and constantly relieve myself, I get tired so easily, every little ache stays and I have been freezing my buttocks off for the past ten minutes.”

Yoongi laughs, “I like it.”

“Of course you do.”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung touches his own chest, “but I must admit that it is truly wonderful to feel my heartbeat again and that my warmth is honest. And I guess it is also wonderful to feel touch on my skin”, he says and lifts Yoongi’s hand into their vision. He runs his thumb over his skin, meeting Yoongi’s soft gaze afterwards.

“Yeah”, he whispers, “it’s nice to experience this. Hugs are the best because you can feel the other’s heartbeat. Yeah and kisses.”

“Oh, you romantic”, Taehyung says with fondness in his voice, “I haven’t kissed properly yet.”

“I’m not the one you will experience this with.”

Taehyung laughs, “you are truly ice cold, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I told you. I don’t wanna romance you.”

“Yet.”

“Ever.”

“Of course, this is what you say now.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, smiling fondly, “you’re a brat.”

He lifts his glass to his lips and finishes the wine.

“Do you want more?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, the bottle is empty.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums, “I guess that means we gotta go inside.”

“Why? The night has only become comfortable.”

“Didn’t you say that you were freezing your ass off?”

“Yes, but I want to spend more time with you.”

Yoongi scoffs fondly, “we can spend time inside as well. It’d be less freezing.”

“Very well, but only if you promise me that we will truly continue this inside.”

“Yeah, we’ll continue this.”

“I take your words for it, hyung”, Taehyung says and gets up, “should we extinguish the fire?”

“Yeah, it’s safest. We don’t want to start a forest fire.”

“Do you believe that fires are possible here?”

“Let’s not find out the hard way. Can you get the hose from the shed?”

“Of course.”

While Taehyung hurries to the shed in the darkness and begins unravelling the hose, Yoongi makes it his task of cleaning up the picnic. He makes sure the glasses are as dry as possible and the plates are relatively clean before storing all of it in the small basket. He shakes off possible crumbs from the blanket and then folds it neatly. Taehyung returns while Yoongi is busy folding. He aims the hose at the fire, squinting his eyes as the fire dies down in puffs of smoke and protesting sizzles.

“We were lucky with the smoke”, Yoongi says.

“Yes truly, oh it’s taking its revenge now”, Taehyung says and coughs, “my eyes burn terribly.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees, wafting the smoke away with closed eyes.

The fire is extinguished soon after and the two men can make their way back to the cottage. Taehyung stores the hose back on its spot as they pass the shed while Yoongi carries the picnic stuff.

“I can carry something as well”, Taehyung offers.

“It’s okay. I got it”, Yoongi assures him.

They walk side by side on their way back, carrying a certain light-hearted skip in their steps. It wasn’t there when they started this evening, but now it doesn’t seem to want to leave.

“You can leave the blanket outside in case of critters.”

They slip off their shoes and coats and while Taehyung is still busy with fixing his hair, Yoongi is carrying the basket to the kitchen. He starts unloading it, glancing over his shoulder when he feels Taehyung’s presence behind him.

“We should clean. It’s mannerly”, Yoongi says.

“Of course. I shall wash the dishes and you can dry them”, Taehyung says.

“Okay.”

Yoongi rolls up his sleeves and begins storing the leftover food in small containers, while Taehyung is busy filling the sink with warm water. They try to be as quiet as possible in fear of waking anyone.

“Oh heavens, I am a fool.”

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, looking over his shoulder.

“I forgot to roll up my sleeves and wet my hands already. May I get help?”

Yoongi closes the fridge and hurries to Taehyung’s side. He rolls up his sleeves, first the left and then the right. Taehyung looks at Yoongi’s face while the other looks at Taehyung’s sweater.

“That colour’s nice”, he says.

“Thank you. I think that earth tones really fit me”, Taehyung says.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“I made the sweater myself. I still know the pattern, so if you want to have your own I could knit it for you.”

“It’s okay, you don’t gotta work for me.”

“But I want to.”

Their eyes meet.

“You would look very handsome in earthen tones, hyung.”

Yoongi flusters, looking away.

“I’m done”, he says and steps back, “that should hold.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

“Mhm.”

Taehyung begins washing the dishes while Yoongi is busy discarding the scraps.

“So should I make you a sweater?” Taehyung asks.

“If you want to”, Yoongi says dryly, but it is clear that Taehyung’s offer means a great deal to him. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of rosy.

“Oh, those are wonderful news. I shall start with it the moment we are home. No actually, I have to do ___’s bedroom first and then we also planned to write my song and I promised Jimin to help with renovations of his ballet studio. Oh, I am too busy.”

Yoongi chuckles. He joins Taehyung’s right side and begins drying the dishes he already finished.

“I shall start with your sweater in October. Early November, at the very latest. I promise.”

“It’s okay, Tae. I can wait”, Yoongi assures him.

“I shall make you many presents now that we are friends, hyung.”

Yoongi smiles, “okay, Tae. I’ll accept them”, he speaks softly, giving him a fond look through the reflection of the kitchen window.

Taehyung meets it and smiles. His heart is light in his chest, his shoulders feel like lifting. He feels at ease. Spending time with Yoongi until this evening was always filled with uncomfortable tension. They accepted each other’s presence for the sake of the polycule, but it was felt by both that it was just that. Acceptance to keep the peace. Taehyung felt nervous in Yoongi’s presence and as if he needed to pretend to be the most proper, guilt-filled person on earth. While Yoongi felt wary in Taehyung’s presence and as if he needed to keep a distance for his own safety.

They don’t feel this way anymore. The once awkward tension was lifted as they talked and acceptance turned into friendship. Of course one nice evening doesn’t mean that all the issues are gone forever, but both men sense that it will be different from now on and they are willing to put in the work to improve their relationship day by day.

It’s a nice feeling to have because it meant that they could both finally feel entirely comfortable whenever their polycule comes together.

“Hey guys.”

Taehyung and Yoongi are almost finished with the dishes when Jungkook enters the kitchen. The two men look at him. He is wearing checkered pyjama pants and no shirt. His hair is ruffled as if hands played with it. His skin is flushed and his neck carries red marks of kisses.

“Hey.”

“Hello handsome.”

“Are you doing dishes?”

“Yes, we had a picnic by the fire pit.”

“The two of you?” Jungkook sounds rightfully surprised.

“Yes. It was a very lovely time.”

“Oh? Really?” Jungkook makes sure, looking between Taehyung and Yoongi. It is obvious that such news are unbelievable to him. He sniffles to make out their scent until he realises that he can’t do such things here.

“Yeah”, Yoongi says, “it was good.”

“Did you guys talk it out?”

Yoongi and Taehyung nod.

“We are friends now”, Taehyung says and hugs Yoongi.

“Okay Tae, back off”, Yoongi complains with a chuckle, which only makes Taehyung hug him tighter.

“You guys, this is the best news ever”, Jungkook gasps as his eyes light up, “wow, I’m so happy”, he confesses and giggles. He steps closer and gives them a little hug, “my two favourite men are friends now. I’m happy, hyungies”, he says and sighs contently, “I gotta tell ___ the news, but first I need to get her water.”

He struts to the cabinet and takes out two glasses. Taehyung and Yoongi, who broke the hug after Yoongi nudged him away gently, watch him.

“Did you make love?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook grins confidently, “I don’t have to tell you.”

“Oh come now, don’t be so secretive”, Taehyung laughs.

“Mhm yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “she’s resting upstairs.”

“Now these are truly wonderful news. I still haven’t gotten to love her here”, Taehyung says and nudges Yoongi, “you, hyung?”

“Why do I gotta tell you?”

“Come now, it is just the three of us.”

Yoongi gives up with a sigh, “congrats Kook, you beat me to it.”

“I’m the first one to do it here?” Jungkook gasps loudly enough that the others shush him.

“Her grandparents”, Yoongi whispers, pointing into the direction of their bedroom.

“I’m the first one to do it here?” Jungkook whispers, “oh my god, I’m such a perv.”

“You are the biggest perv”, Taehyung teases and snickers, “how wonderful was it?”

“It was amazing. Wow, I have butterflies” Jungkook gushes.

“Oh Kookie, this is making me so excited for my night with her.”

They both giggle excitedly.

“You two are idiots”, Yoongi whispers, “stop talking like this. She’s not a price to claim.”

“You joined us as well, hyung.”

“I only did so because you asked. Besides, if nothing happens I’m not gonna be disappointed. You guys are perverts.”

“Very well, I admit that we sounded very perverted. Please forgive us.”

“Mhm.”

“I can tell you that she talked about you guys and how she’s excited for whatever sexy thing you’ll get up to”, Jungkook says, “so she’s being a perv too, but you’re right sorry I talked about her like this.”

“Whatever”, Yoongi murmurs shyly.

Jungkook snickers and fills up the glasses. He takes a sip of his water and sighs contently.

“I’m upstairs then. ___ needs her water”, he says and steps closer to press a kiss to both Taehyung’s and then Yoongi’s lips, “sleep tight, you two”, he says and giggles, “I’m happy that you’re friends.”

And with that he leaves the kitchen with a confident sway in his hips. Taehyung and Yoongi watch him as he hurries upstairs and then distance drowns him out. It’s peculiar to them that they can’t hear how the door opens and closes or how Jungkook talks to you. Human hearing is truly so useless.

“So uhm”, Taehyung begins now that they are alone again, “what shall we do now, hyung? We cleaned everything.”

Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “I’m honestly kinda tired.”

“But hyung”, Taehyung pouts, “you promised me that we will continue the evening inside.”

“I know, but I’m tired. I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

“I’m so sad right now. Oh hyung please”, Taehyung takes Yoongi’s hand, “at least let us stay up for a little bit longer.”

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung retreats his touch, “very well. Don’t clean the shower, I will use it after you.”

Yoongi steps closer and nudges Taehyung’s chin. The younger vampire looks at him with sad, puppy eyes.

“I had fun tonight. Yeah? Just too tired all of a sudden.”

Taehyung nods his head, allowing a small smile to wash over his face, “I had fun as well, hyung.”

Yoongi leaves soon after, but the evening wasn’t over yet. Taehyung decides so the second Yoongi disappeared upstairs. And so he waits, listening as best as his human ears allow him to. Yoongi takes around fifteen minutes in the bathroom and another five minutes taking a nightly pee. Then he can hear the guest bedroom door close.

Taehyung hurries upstairs and locks himself in the bathroom to take the quickest shower he ever took. He needs to be fast in order for Yoongi to still be awake.

Ten minutes after Yoongi got under the covers and comfortable for bed, a knock on the door alerts his attention. The door opens without his answer and in steps Taehyung.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi lowers his pen, studying Taehyung by the edge of the bed. He is wearing his pyjamas and carries his own notebook with a pen.

“What do you want?”

“Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“Why?”

“Because Jungkook and ___ are occupying her bed and I would have no place to sleep.”

“Fine…”

“Wonderful”, Taehyung says and gets on top of the bed, “we can keep each other warm”, he says and pulls the cover open to wiggle himself underneath it.

Yoongi watches him with a certain stiffness in his body. Taehyung sighs and grunts contently, shimmying closer to Yoongi until their arms touch.

“Do you have to do this?” Yoongi asks.

“Indeed, I do”, Taehyung says and sticks his naked feet under the leg of Yoongi’s pants.

“Yah! Put your icicle toes somewhere else”, Yoongi complains loudly, kicking at Taehyung’s feet.

“Warm me up, hyung”, Taehyung coos as he chases him.

“Yah stop it. You’re cold and I’m gonna kick you”, Yoongi warns as he still kicks his feet. He even lies down on his back for it, almost kicking off the blanket as he wiggles his legs. 

Taehyung laughs and retreats his feet, “I apologise. The opportunity was just too easy not to take.”

“You’re such a brat”, Yoongi mumbles, sitting back up. He fixes the blanket on his legs and looks back into his notebook. 

Taehyung snickers, agreeing with a nod of his head. He opens his notebook and clicks his pen. 

“What are you working on, hyung?”

“Nothing. I write down what I think.”

“Like a diary?”

“I guess.”

“That’s very good, hyung. I promise not to peek.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums, looking at him with gratefulness, “you, uh, what are you doing?”

“Oh, I am just continuing work on ___’s bedroom sketches. I want to finish them before we leave this realm.”

“Okay. I want to listen to music. I don’t want to talk when I do.”

“I won’t stop you. I shall listen to my own music as well.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and puts in earbuds. Taehyung slips on headphones and mere seconds later, the two men share one bed but otherwise no words. It is silent and comfortable. Each does their own thing whilst sharing space. Mere hours ago, such an occurrence would have been a lot more awkward. 

They manage to get around an hour in and then Yoongi is the first to give up. He places his phone and earbuds on the bedside table together with his notebook and pen. He fluffs up his pillow next.

“Are you tired already?” Taehyung asks him.

“Mhm.”

“Do you mind if I still draw for a while? I will have to keep the lights on for it.”

“No, it’s okay”, Yoongi assures him and lies down. He wiggles for a bit to get comfortable, “good night”, he says and rolls to his side. Like this, his back is facing Taehyung. 

One must know that this is the first time Yoongi shows himself like this in front of Taehyung. One must dearly remember this fact to perhaps understand why Taehyung can’t stop staring at his friend. 

“Yes indeed. Have a good night, hyung”, he mumbles and turns down the light to make it easier for Yoongi to fall asleep. So this is how his friend looks when he attempts to fall asleep.

“The only reason I’m doing this is because I’m human right now and need sleep.”

“Of course hyung, I wouldn’t have dared to question you”, Taehyung says with a knowing smile on his lips. 

“Good. Good night”, Yoongi says and grows silent.

“Sleep tight, hyung.” 

Taehyung stares for a few moments, thinking to himself that Yoongi looks incredibly cute right now. He is resting in fetus position with his hands between his legs while the blanket covers him all the way to the back of his head. He looks even smaller than he actually is and Taehyung thinks that he is adorable. He stays quiet of course because he is aware that it would push Yoongi away if he tried to compliment him right now. 

Around twenty minutes pass and then Taehyung gets sleepy as well. He discards his phone and notebook and turns off the lights. He gets comfortable in the pillow, staring into the darkness where he assumes Yoongi to sleep. It is so peculiar to not be able to see. 

Taehyung tries to fall asleep, but fails because he has nothing to hug. He can’t find relaxation when he is so empty-handed. 

Taehyung takes a deep breath for courage and reaches out. His fingers touch Yoongi’s back. It’s incredibly warm and tenses at the touch.

“Hyung?”

“What?”Yoongi whispers quietly.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I can’t fall asleep if I do not hug something. May I hug you?”

Yoongi exhales loudly, “if you have to.”

“Thank you, hyung”, Taehyung says and closes in on Yoongi. He drapes his right arm over him, pulling his small body against his chest. His legs lock with Yoongi’s perfectly, sharing warmth his way. Next he wiggles his left arm under Yoongi’s head, keeping it extended so both men are comfortable.

Yoongi is too sleepy to protest, letting it happen even if his brain is going crazy in panic. He never planned on being Taehyung’s little spoon and yet here they were.

“You are so comfortable, hyung”, Taehyung whispers, nuzzling his nose deep into the hair at the back of Yoongi’s head. He inhales deeply and hums.

“You’re so weird”, Yoongi murmurs, trying not to relax too much in case it comes off as needy. He’s not needy for Taehyung’s hugs. Not in a fucking million.

Taehyung ignores him for the sake of nuzzling and snuggling closer.

“What do you like best, hyung? Head pats, chest rubs or stomach rubs?”

“I’m allowing you to hug me, nothing more. Are we clear?”

“But hyung, I want to make you feel very cozy.”

“I appreciate it. Stay still. It’s cozy enough.”

Taehyung huffs out air, “very well.”

Yoongi tries to relax. He doesn’t feel sleepy when he is so tense and that means he has to relax. If he wanted to or not.

“I love back scratches most”, Taehyung breaks the silence in a soft spoken voice.

“Okay.”

“Yes, indeed. But if I am the small spoon, I love it most to have my chest rubbed. It is very relaxing to me.”

“Okay, Tae. I’m sure Kook and ___ will be very willing to give them to you.”

“Hyung”, Taehyung complains and pinches Yoongi’s side gently, “I am not attempting to romance you. Friends can give touches to each other as well.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not fucking comfortable with having my torso touched, okay?”

“Truly?” Taehyung props himself up on his elbow. It results in Yoongi’s head rolling closer to his chest naturally. He doesn’t fix it, “so why have I seen ___ rub your stomach before? And Kook caress your chest?”

“Because…” Yoongi rolls his head away, “I don’t gotta tell you.”

“Do you need time to grow comfortable around people’s touches?”

“Yes. You’ve known me for how long? You know that I do.”

“Do I make you genuinely uncomfortable right now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want my torso to be touched by you yet.”

“I understand. I apologise for asking so many questions. I want to get to know you better.”

Yoongi hesitates. Taehyung listens to the deep inhale he does and how much deeper he seems to exhale. His back presses against his chest as he breathed.

“Just go to sleep, Tae.”

Taehyung drops back into the pillow and pulls Yoongi closer. The older man needs a moment to relax, but as those moments turn into two, three and four he finally grows soft in Taehyung’s hold. Taehyung wonders how much time passed between these moments, but it must have been a while because Yoongi’s breathing slowed down by now. But Taehyung still isn’t tired. His thoughts are racing, as is his heart.

“Yoongi?” he tries quietly.

Yoongi sighs, “what?”

“I can’t fall asleep.”

“Yeah? I can.”

“I keep thinking and it is keeping me awake.”

Yoongi sighs again, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“Why did you hate me for so long?”

Yoongi shifts, “this is what you’re thinking about?”

“Yes. I apologise, but I can’t stop.”

“I didn’t hate you. At least not since some time.”

“So why did you act so annoyed by me all the time?”

“I don’t know. I guess”, Yoongi stays silent for a while as he thinks, “it’s hard for me to let you in because whenever I did, you disappointed me.”

“I see.”

“And I’m still scared that you’re gonna hurt ___ and Kook one day. That I’m gonna let you in and trust you and then you suddenly have a change of heart and decide to become a reckless cunt again and hurt them in the process.”

“I see.”

“That’s why it’s hard for me to shed my feelings off. I want to believe so hard that you are better”, Yoongi says and touches Taehyung’s hand.

The latter has to gasp for air at the touch, feeling as if time slows down. It stands still completely when seconds later, Yoongi begins fumbling with his fingers. Mindlessly yet gently.

“But if I’m wrong? If you’re gonna hurt them and become wicked again? Then I let you in only to be disappointed again”, Yoongi exhales shakily, “for fuck’s sake Tae, please just don’t disappoint me again.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, hyung”, Taehyung whispers, “and I want to be better from now on. There were many occasions where I was controlled by Namjoon. I hope you are aware of those occasions.”

“I am and I’m not blaming you for them. There were also too many where you acted out of your own free will.”

“I am aware of them and I will remember them so I can better myself. Please believe me, hyung. I want to be better from now on. Not only for the sake of ___ and Kook and Jimin, but also for your sake. I want to be a worthy friend of yours, hyung. One you can rely on and trust.”

Yoongi acknowledges him with a nod of his head. He drops Taehyung’s fingers to instead, close his hand around his’. Gently and without pressure.

“I’m sure that you will be, kiddo. Hyung’s always wished for your best”, Yoongi says in their native tongue. The underlying honesty of speaking in one’s native language, the language closest to the heart, doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung.

“Hyung”, Taehyung breathes shakily, fighting tears.

“Fuck”, Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle, “you’re a bastard for making me talk about my feelings when I’m fucking sleepy. I turn into an honest sap.”

Taehyung giggles, sniffling his tears away.

“I enjoy this a lot, hyung. It’s so difficult to get affection from you.”

“That’s not true. I show affection. Just not like you, you public sap.”

Taehyung chuckles, “now you are just saying stuff for the sake of saying them.”

“Brat”, Yoongi murmurs and chuckles softly, “now go to sleep, Tae. It’ll get too late and we’ll be tired as fuck tomorrow.”

“I will try, but I don’t know if I will be successful. My heart is racing terribly after what you said.”

Yoongi chuckles, “try to”, he says breathily and grows softer in Taehyung’s arms.

Taehyung snuggles into Yoongi, closing his eyes while his lips refuse to drop their smile. He is so happy that he feels like bursting in fireworks and sparkles.

The last thing Yoongi does before he falls asleep is to intertwine his fingers with Taehyung. He isn’t awake anymore for the small gasp of disbelief Taehyung releases or the whispered “hyung” he lets out. Sleep has dragged him away and soon, oh so very soon because he finally has something to hold, Taehyung follows.

The night will be peaceful and neither of the two men will leave the hug for even one second.

#yoongi fluff #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #yoongi fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #jungkook x yoongi #jungkook x taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #fanfic: caerula luna

[p4nishers]

ethan hunt girl how are u not embarrassed

#u r SHORT u r running around like a lunatic infront of hundreds of PEOPLE u r in love w benji dunn and just??? not doing anything about it?? #why are u running boy i just want to talk #like no sorry i love him but i am also DEEPLY embarrassed for him at all times its a problem #ethan hunt #mission impossible #benthan #ethan x benji #benji dunn #mission impossible ghost protocol #this is directed at ghost protocol ethan i have very specific beef with him

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[strawbvrriluv]

can u do a fic where reader goes on a road trip with the triplets and thier parents but there’s no room for reader in the car so she has to sit on matts lap and he gets turned on so they sneakily have sex

Road Trips … Am I right?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʀᴏᴀᴅ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀɴᴛꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴄᴜꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ (ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ)

꧁༺ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ༻꧂

Y/n POV

I heard a honk outside of my house as I walked out and saw the Sturniolo’s car. I waved and walked to behind the car opening the trunk and putting my luggage with everyone else’s.

I closed the door and opened the back seat to be greeting with the triplets in the back seat…

“Oh sorry I forgot to tell you our parents decided to come as well and we took one car. You have to sit on Matt’s lap if that’s okay?”

Nick my best friend told me smiling sheepishly as I furrowed my brows about to speak.

“It’s fine”

Matt said giving me a look of annoyance as I huffed and glared at Matt before smiling at Nick. I entered the car and sat down on Matt’s lap.

I gave a smile to Mr and Mrs Sturniolo, “So Nick tells us you want to get into vlogging and all that stuff they’re doing as well?”

Mr. Jimmy asked looking at me through the mirror as I nodded.

“Yeah, I have loved filming since I was younger and now that I’m an adult I want to explore different kinds of things. Of course, I still have my regular job.”

Mr.Jimmy nodded as Mrs.Marylou piped in.

“Should we get some snacks before we leave the area?”

Chris immediately nodded his head, “Yes we should”.

I smiled at Chris’s enthusiasm as Nick rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Matt on the other hand was dead silent. I mean it’s normal for him, but this was different. He was like a ghost.

“Matt you okay?”

Chris asked him as he sat in the middle seat.

“Yea. Just tired.”

He replied his hands moving onto my lap fidgeting with his rings as we hit a bump.

I kind of slammed down on his lap as he gasped a bit. I slid down a bit so I moved more onto his lap feeling something hard.

“Matt is your phone on your lap?”

I whispered looking back at him as his face got a shade of pink.

“That’s not my phone idiot”

He whispered back into my ear as the look of confusion on my face dropped into an embarrassed one.

“Oh”

Was all I said before turning back around and going onto my phone to play subway surfers to try and ignore Matt.

Matt sighed deeply into my shoulder as he grabbed my hips pulling them in closer to his own. I widened my eyes opening my messages and texting Matt.

Matt put his phone down as his hand slid onto my thigh squeezing it softly as he yawned.

“Yo Chris hand me the blanket I wanna get some sleep and Y/n’s practically freezing”

Matt lied yawning after the sentence again as Chris gave him a blanket. He put it on the both of us because it was the only way for him to also be covered.

As soon as it covered my body his hand rode down into my skirt and down to my panties. He pressed two fingers on my clit through the fabric as I pressed my thighs together.

His hand moved upwards and into my panties as his middle finger and ring finger slid in between my folds touching my now aching clit. He rubbed circles softly as he rested his head on my shoulder his body grinding into my softly.

Since we were in a moving car it wasn’t obvious what was going on. Thank god.

He picked up the speed of the rubbing as I leaned more into him trying everything to not make a sound.

“Fuck”

He whispered in my ear as another bump in the road caused me to slam onto his lap. I closed my eyes and laid back on Matt like I was going to try and sleep. I felt Matt move his fingers out of my skirt and onto my hips as he rocked me back and forth agaisnt him.

The friction of our clothes building up as he stopped as his dad turned into an empty gas station.

He parked the car as he looked at the Triplet’s, “I would say let’s all go but Y/n is sleeping so everyone else but Matt come on.”

“Yknow what I want right?”

Matt asked Chris as he nodded, everyone left the car leaving us alone. I opened my eyes as Matt shook me.

“Turn around”

I moved around so I was facing him as he kissed me harshly. I kissed him back my hands going into his hair as his hands went under my skirt moving my shorts to the side. He undid the ties of his sweatpants pulling it down just enough for his dick to spring out.

“Oh god”

I said almost drooling at the sight of his dick, it was … Just big enough to stretch me out but not hurt me.

My right hand went down in between us as I jerked hi off a few times.

“Don’t tease me. Hurry up before they get back.”

I nodded and positioned myself ontop of him as he moved his dick back and forth collecting my wetness before he slammed me down.

“AH”

I screamed into his shoulder, I clenched as Matt didn’t wait for me to get used to his size. He began fucking me from under the only sounds in the car being me moaning and whining and the sounds of my wetness.

“Mmm.. Oh fuck yeah. Just like that baby. Take me like that. Your sweet sweet pussy is so good for me. I wanna fuck you until you can’t walk”

Matt groaned as I began moving up and down on his dick as well.

“You fill me up so well”

I said as he kissed me, his hands cupping my ass as he picked up the speed.

“I’m going to fucking cum.. Please let me cum inside that tight little pussy of yours”

Matt groaned his head falling back as I nodded frantically.

“Please please please”

I cried feeling my climax coming. My head fell down into your shoulder as I felt my body tremble. I clenched around him as he moaned loudly.

“Fuck.. I’m cumming.. I’m-“

I felt his hot liquid shot inside me as he slowed his pace down. He grabbed my jaw as he moved my face up to meet his.

He kissed me softly before pulling out.

“You felt so fucking good”

Matt muttered as he turned me around fixing his belt and my skirt. I rested my head on his shoulder as I tried to calm down my breath.

Nick would KILL me if he found out I just had sex with his twin in public.

“Your hearts beating so fast Y/n holy shit calm down”

Matt joked his hand on my chest as I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck you”

“I already did sweetheart”

Matt replied chuckling a bit.

#fanfiction #matt sturniolo snap #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo

[dumbseee]

noticed pt2.

f1 au/fic: having her celebrity crush as her boyfriend was something y/n didn’t expect to happen, which she also didn’t expect is the hate she would’ve receive.

lando norris x reader.

fc: bruna marquezine.

part 1.

note: i wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but you guys asked so you shall receive :) (i wrote that very quickly so it’s not that good i’m so sorry)

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 230 997 others.

y/n: lil photo dump because i’m living my best life with my loved ones <3 have a nice week guys!

_

landonorris: pretty girl <3

liked by y/n.

francisca.cgomes: had the best time with you baby

yourfriend: you’re shining girl

fan1: who tf is y/n? why is she even so popular?

fan2. @.fan1 bc she’s fucking lando and people have an obsession with wags

fan3: ew such a whore

fan4: why is she always half naked?

fan5: i’d be so embarrassed if i were lando bc wtf is she wearing?

fan6: lando RUN

fan7: y’all see a pretty woman dating y’all favourite driver and decide to hate her for no reason

fan8: y/n get behind me

you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t know what you did to deserve that. you deactivated all your socials so you won’t receive any messages from people with bad intentions, and turned off your phone that kept buzzing with notifications from friends and family. you tried to call lando, to make sure he knew that this was bullshit and that never would you even think about cheating on him. you did go to neymar’s party but only as your friend’s plus one. you talked with the footballer but for literally five minutes. the girl in the picture wasn’t you and you prayed that lando knew that. but he wasn’t answering his phone and that actually made you panic even more. your whole body was shaking, you were having a panic attack and you didn’t know how to calm it since you never had one before.

this situation was horrible for you, you didn’t even know how to fix it, of course it was all a lie but would the internet believe you? deactivating all your socials could be seen as suspicious by fans. they hated you anyway so whatever excuse you’d come up with, they’d never believe you. would lando even believe you? that thought made you sob even more, you struggled to breath and fell on the ground, resting your head on your knees. you could hear your heart beats going way too fast and you prayed for someone to help you because you were going to die from that damn panic attack.

"y/n! hey y/n!" you heard a voice, but it was faint, as if someone was calling you from very far away. "y/n, please baby! breath!" lando. it was lando’s voice. you opened your eyes and saw your boyfriend, shaking you to make you come to your senses, his eyes were glossy and he looked worried, when he saw you open your eyes and look at him he sighed softly and smiled at you. "welcome back, baby." he kissed your forehead before putting your hand on his own heart while he did the same to yours. "breath for me. we’ll do it together, okay?" you nodded slowly and started to follow his breaths. "one. two. three. yeah, you’re doing amazing my love." he smiled again and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "you scared the shit out of me." he whispered, still against your forehead. "i am so sorry, lando, i swear it’s not-" he shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a long and soothing embrace. you felt silent tears roll down your cheeks.

"don’t say a word, i already know." he says, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed your tears away. "those pretty eyes can’t be drowning in tears, love." he added. "i trust you y/n. i love and trust you with my life, i know that you’d never do such a thing." he finished by kissing your lips. "then why did you ignore my calls?" you asked. "because i needed to get back home asap to confort you." he smiled and you swore that your heart exploded.

that was the moment where you realised how deeply in love you were with lando. he was so perfect with you, always taking care of you and putting you first. you sometimes wondered if you deserved that kind of love.

"we’re going to watch your favorite tv show, order some food and take a bath later. today is y/n self care day. and don’t think about that rumour, i’m going to take care of that." he kissed the top of your head and helped you get up from the ground.

liked by y/n, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 1 790 007 others.

landonorris: i’m going to say this once and for all: y/n l/n is the sweetest most loving and respectful person i’ve ever met in my entire existence. she’s the light that keeps shining during my darkest days, she’s the presence i crave after a long day away from her. y/n has been the victim of disgusting rumours and death threats, i’ll be taking action against every single ones of you who even just commented one single bad emoji under her posts, i’ll come for you. you made her cry, i think it’s fair enough that i make you pay back for every single tear that she shed because of people like you.

_

comments have been disabled.

#f1 au #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x oc #formula 1 #formula one x y/n #formula one #formula one x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader

[fieldofdaisiies]

Alone

ship: Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!Reader type: angst/fluff word count: 2,6k words warnings: mentions of racist parents, awful parent child relationship, talk of war and Death Eaters summary: Y/N and Theo are childhood friends, when she receives a howler from her mother that breaks her, he is there for her. (I'll blame @azrielscrown for her amazing Theo stories and hence making me want to write about him, and also @moonlightazriel for the tiktok videos she sent me hahaha)

It is quiet. So very quiet. All of a sudden everyone stops talking. There aren’t even any hushed whispers. Nothing.

It is so quite that one could hear a needle drop. 

So quiet that even the mice in the smallest nooks and corners of the castle could hear your mother’s voice blaring out of the howler that has just unfolded itself in front of you. Its tongue poking out, the howler spats the exact same words your mother shouted into it in your family manor.

The words drip with venom. Disdain and disappointment lace every spoken syllable. 

Your blood runs cold, your chin quivering, as you watch and listen in absolute shock. Your whole body has gone rigid, you don't even dare turn to glance around, not wanting to see the either mocking or pitiful looks of your school mates. 

How would she know? How does she know? And why is she so mad? 

It was just a school project, not your decision to spend time with him. You had to spend time with Harry Potter — it was for a Potions project, preparing a recipe, trying it out and then presenting it in class. It was project where you were assigned partners. A project where you were forced to spend time together. And even if you don't hate Harry, you would not have chosen to do the project. But you had no choice.

'The shame you brought upon this family by being sorted into Hufflepuff.'

There is a pause, and it is so long, so dreadful, so painful, and you just hope the letter won’t continue talking. Maybe it is over and the letter will just rip itself into shreds — the same shreds your heart has been ripped into when the letter started howling.

Or maybe a hole in the ground will open, and swallow you wholly? A ghost will appear and take you with him? A giant will crash both you and the letter?

But your prayers are ignored. Of course they are…

'And now, now you are doing partner work with him? Spending your free afternoons with him? What comes next? Dating a Muggle? Marrying one?'

'Y/N Y/L/N, in this house I allow none of that!'

Your best friend slides her hand into your cold one, squeezing it tightly. She is the purest and kindest soul Hufflepuff house has ever seen and in this very moment you are more grateful to have her than ever before. She somehow grounds you, stops your body from shaking or convulsing fully. 

'I am deeply disappointed. So very much. What you do to this family, the shame you bring upon us.'

That’s how the letter ends. No well wishes, no goodbye, no I love you, no motherly love. Nothing.

You are shocked, sad, embarrassed — feeling too much. Too many emotions. Your heart can’t take them, can’t deal with them all at once and you know you have to leave, get away, escape. Cry. And be alone. 

You need to get out of the Great Hall. And that right now. 

You know your friends want to support you, comfort you, but sometimes you just need to be alone.

Your voice sounds choked, throat constricted, as you climb over the bench, the howler still in pieces on the table.

"I am sorry, I need to be alone now." You run, weaving your way through the pupils crowded in the Great Hall and the corridors outside. Tears start to burn behind your eyes, clouding your vision and your throat starts to burn. 

You run, run until your feet ache, slumping down on the ground, sliding down the ball. And then the damn breaks. Hot, burning tears rolling down your cheeks, as one ragged sob after the other leaves you. 

It hurts so much, growing up in a family like this. It is so painful. Your mother's words, laced with venom, still reverberate through your mind, loud and awful, filling every fibre of your being. A cool shiver makes its way down your spine, making you shiver. 

You draw in a deep inhale, your breathing shaky, lower lip quivering. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest against the wall, replaying every single word she said to you. 

The eerie silence of the corridor and your calm sobs are suddenly interrupted by the faint echo of footsteps nearing. You have no time to make guesses who it could be, finding you sitting behind a corner, back pressed against the wall to almost become invisible. 

"Are you…alright?"

It is strange seeing him like this. He is always so confident, so cocky, arrogant, silver-tongued. And not so…reserved, and at a loss for words. Your desperate state has probably shocked him, you think, trying to hold his gaze, but the tears are coming back again. 

"I am…fine," you croak, the lie in your voice louder than the Howler you received earlier. 

Theo breathes out a cold chuckle. "That was the worst lie I've ever heard, Y/N."

His voice is flat, his expression stoic. He just looks at you, his normally confident demeanour nowhere in sight. "And I thought you Hufflepuffs are those goody-two-shoes who never lie."

You watch how the corner of his mouth tips upwards, but only shortly. He quickly presses his lips in a thin line, something he has always done when thinking deeply. A crease appears on his forehead, eyes solely focused on you.

You have known Theo basically since the day you were born. He is two months older than you, both of you coming from noble pureblood families, your father's had once been good friends, are still probably, but you don't really know. When you were placed in Hufflepuff…things changed. 

Also the friendship with Theo changed. He got distanced, you did too. Being friends with him was somehow no longer possible, and still isn't. You are not rude towards each other, he also always stayed out when the Slytherins mocked you and your housemates, but he has also never sought you out to spend time with you…and neither did you.

You have been growing apart and this is alright — some friendships are not forever. Or at least that is what you always tell yourself. 

"I…I just had to get out."

He nods, slowly, and in understanding. "I always come here when I want to be alone."

"Yes, that is why I am here, I want to be alone." You hope he gets the memo…that you want to be alone. Fully alone.

Not deigning him another look, you bury your face in your hands again, knees pulled up to your chest. It is not in your nature to be rude to anyone, but…

"I know I should probably leave…" But he moves closer.

"I heard what the howler said and I don’t really want to—"

"Everyone heard what the Howler said." A humourless chuckle escapes you and you lift your head. Theo is already looking at you, his eyes, meeting your red and puffy ones. Pain flashes in his eyes, bright and stark and you feel yourself shiver.

He nods slowly, almost like he wants to tell you it is not the truth, hoping it will ease the pain and discomfort a little, but he says nothing. And that for a long moment. Until—

He closes the distance between the two of you, claiming the spot on the ground beside you. 

"I am sorry," he says, stretching out his long legs and leaning his head against the stone wall behind him. "I am so sorry for what she said and that everyone had to hear."

"It is not your fault, you don't have to apologise." You furrow your brows as you turn to look at him. 

His eyes are filled with concern. You can still feel the embarrassment, the way the entire hall had turned to watch as the red envelope exploded in a blaze of your mother's fury and rage. Everyone became witness to your misery…

You swallow hard, trying to push the memory aside, but it lingers like an illness that just won't get better. 

"Y/N," Theo says, his voice softer than what you are used to. "I can't believe she sent you this letter…"

"Howler," you correct him, wearing a forced smile.

The corner of his mouth curls up, and he casually runs a hand through his hair. "Indeed, a Howler, you smartass."

You chuckle, and playfully nudge him with your elbow. But then you shake your head, take a deep breath and shrug."You know how she is. Always expecting more, always disappointed in me."

Theo reaches out, his hand brushing gently against yours. He does not take your hand into his, just rests it next to yours on the ground, your pinkies touching. "You don't have to listen to her, Y/N. You're so much more than what she thinks of you."

You draw in a shaky breath, thankful about his presence.

Funny, you think. You would not have thought that exactly his presence would bring you so much comfort now. You had wanted to be alone just moments before, but talking to him feels somehow good. "Thank you," you say.

He smiles. "Of course." But he does not look away, keeps holding your gaze, his hand shifting the tiniest bit, his pinkie finger now placed on top of yours.

The dimly lit sconces cast eerie flickers of light upon the stone walls, and also on you two. His lashes look longer in this light, casting shadows across his cheeks, his eyes looking so much deeper. And soon you realise you are staring at him. 

It feels like he leans closer, but you could also be mistaken.. And yet, his presence wraps around you, like a gentle embrace or a warm winter coat. And, with his voice barely above a whisper, Theo says. "You deserve so much better than this."

Tears glisten in your eyes once more. His gaze is intense, filled with an emotion you have not really seen on him before. "Thank you for being here for me."

"I am your friend, of course I am." 

Your expression must have given you away.

He huffs, and lowers his chin to his chest. "Well, at least I hope we are still friends…"

For a long moment silence stretches out between you because first of all, you did not expect that statement and secondly, you don't know how to answer.

Are you really friends? Still?

You’ve doubted it in the past years, you’ve never talked to each other, unless you had to do so in class. You’ve never spent time together. This is not what you would call a friendship. 

"I don't know, are we?" you answer honestly, and a small smile appears on his face. "I can't blame you for not considering me your friend anymore…"

It is still strange seeing him like this. He has never been like this…so vulnerable somehow. 

"I know I should have been here for you so much more in these past years."

This is not at all what you expected, and it confuses you greatly. Is he blaming himself for not being here? You also did not reach out to him, you did not seek him out, and you are in different houses.

"There is no blame on you!" Your voice is stronger, firmer, wanting him to see that it is absolute bullshit that he is talking. "Why would you say something like this?"

He shrugs. "I am…" He does not continue, only draws in a deep inhale, and leans his head against the wall. His eyes close for a moment.

There has always been a connection between you, a connection that is still somehow there, even though you might no longer be friends. The kind of friends you once used to be.

You also lean back against the wall, your own eyes closing, his finger still touching yours. It is such a tiny gesture, but you feel it everywhere. Feel him so strongly. 

Theo breaks the silence, his voice quieter when he says. "Y/N, I want you to know...I've always cared about you more than just a friend."

Your heart skips a beat, and you open your eyes, turn your head and look up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze. "Theo..."

"I know it's complicated," he continues, his hand now flipping yours over and taking it into his. "I can't pretend anymore. And seriously, if Draco or Blaise would see me like that right now…stumbling over my own words, they would call me the biggest fool on this planet, but I need you to know…"

He groans almost like in frustration, and squeezes your hand. 

"In Salazar's name, why is this so fucking hard?" A chuckle escapes him, but you only look at him, not sure if you are ready for his confession. 

"I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I have been for the longest time."

Your breath catches in your throat, and a mixture of emotions swirls within you, a whirlwind starting for a whole new reason now. "Theo, I..." You hesitate, not sure what to say.

He smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. And if you ever need someone to talk to, to be there for you, I'll always be here, I want you to know this."

This is a side of him, you think, only you know. And only you know since this very moment. He has never been like this before, he is not like that to others and it makes your chest warm from the inside. 

Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time they're not tears of sadness — they’re tears of happiness and comfort. Without thinking you throw your arms around Theo and hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Thank you, Theo. I... I really care about you too. I want you to know this."

He holds you close, his hand gently rubbing your back. "What happened today, and what is maybe about to come…we'll get through this together. You are not alone in this. I know you have your Hufflepuff friends, but you also have me."

He holds you tightly, and for as long as it takes the pain of the former happenings to ease. The weight of the howler and your mother's hurtful words begins to fade, replaced by the knowledge that you have someone who cares deeply for you by your side. His words and his confession were like balm to your soul, and they make you smile, even when you thought you wouldn't be smiling much this day. 

"I am really glad to have you back in my life."

He smiles, a genuine and adorable smile that makes your heart flutter. "I have always been in your life. Maybe we weren't that close, but our bond has always been there."

You nod, and draw in a deep inhale. "You are right."

When more pupils file into the corridors, you know lessons are probably soon about to start. You give his hand a final squeeze and slowly get up. "I'll see you later, Theo."

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take care, Y/N. I'll see you for lunch?"

You nod, a smile on your lips and his eyes momentarily dip to them.

With one last smile, you turn and head toward the Hufflepuff common room, your heart lighter. You know you can talk to him about the issues in your family, and he will listen, because he understands. Understands the pure blood nobility and problems.  And maybe, just maybe, there is also a chance for something more between the two of you in the future. He, after all, already confessed his love for you. 

#theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #harry potter #theo nott #theo nott x reader

[megistusdiary]

giving tighnari an aphrodisiac while you’re hanging out so he’ll sleep with you cause you have a bit of a huge crush on him, but you severely miscalculate how long it’ll last for so you end up stuck underneath him, pussy aching from his neverending thrusts and his cum flowing out, telling you how much he’s in love with you and your cunt and hoping that this never ends. mission accomplished?

ok sorry i have been gone so long. i actually just finished a monster of a chem report and i am in the mood to write so lets do this >:)

this turned out really long my god- i got really into meaningless plot and dialogue i am so sorry, there's like 1 minute of smut.

also, because i like to keep it consensual, we are gonna say tighnari was already dtf and he knew exactly what those petals do 😏

warnings: rough-dom!tighnari and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

aphrodisiac usage (reader didn't know it was an aphrodisiac she gave tighnari), overstimulation, a lot of cum (unsafe sex 👎), biting, mating press, friends to lovers 🥵🥵, fingering/oral, also mentions of venti because he is your mondstat friend but he is wild

"and you're sure this is legit?" you asked, brows furrowing as you observed the petals in your palm.

"of course i'm sure, are you seriously doubting a professional?" venti grinned as you pursed your lips. "guaranteed to make even the most stoic swoon." venti pressed his hand to his forehead dramatically.

"alright, alright, i trust you." you carefully pocket the preserved blooms as venti eagerly bounces on his heels. you sigh deeply. "okay, one bottle on me, but that's it- diluc charges an arm and a leg these days."

it had been about a week since that conversation on your last day in mondstat. you originally went for research purposes and catching up with some old friends. sure, you expected a few souvenirs but not 'love blooms.'

you inspected the petals on your desk, trying desperately to focus on your reports.

when you told venti about your little (massive) crush on tighnari, venti was delighted to help you in the most venti way possible. by offering you flowers that make your crush fall in love with you.

because what other advice would that bard give?

you had your doubts, but part of you was intrigued to find out if they were real. you didn't want to test the tea on just anyone in case these blooms really did have some magic in them. or maybe you were just overthinking this. what if-

a soft knock on the wood of your door stirred you from your thoughts as you jumped up from your desk, knocking some of your papers off the surface.

"come in!" you call out, seeing tighnari peek his head around the corner of the wall. "tighnari! what are you doing here?"

tighnari greeted you with a small wave, carrying a basket in his arms. "i apologize for intruding so late, i originally meant to drop this off earlier. but you were asleep when i came by, and i didn't want to disturb you." tighnari smiled sheepishly, and you missed the soft blush dusting his cheeks in the low light from your lamp.

"oh, that's fine! it's great, no worries." you laughed awkwardly. "so, what's in there?" you pointed at the basket as he carefully opened the top.

"collei made it for you. she was feeling good this week, said it was the cooler weather and fresh air. she collected some herbs and fungi, and i think some tea leaves she received from a friend visiting liyue." tighnari mumbled, sifting through the contents.

"tell her i said thank you-"

"you could always come over and tell her yourself, you know. being a messenger is hard work for a forest ranger." tighnari teased.

you smiled at him fondly, shaking your head. it wasn't that you didn't want to visit, on the contrary. you were just terrified of embarrassing yourself in front of tighnari and collei.

"well, i am free tomorrow afternoon, if that's an okay time?"

"sure, i would check with collei first, but i'm positive she's already asleep." he hummed, ears flicking atop his head.

you let the quiet linger for a moment before you cleared your throat. "since you came all this way, would you like to stay for some tea?" you suddenly panicked, reminding yourself it was almost dark out, and tighnari would surely want to go back home as soon as possible. "well, i mean, it's late, so that was a stupid thing for me to suggest. sorry."

"actually, if you don't mind having me, i would love to share some tea. i didn't bring anything to drink on the trek here, and i am embarrassed to admit i'm a bit parched." tighnari's tail curled up as you nodded.

"sure! have a seat, anywhere you like- just maybe not on the chair with all my stuff on it, sorry for the mess." you awkwardly shuffled towards the kitchen, pulling the kettle out to start boiling a pot of water.

and then, the wicked little voice of venti popped into your mind.

now would be the perfect time to test out those petals.

you blinked twice, eyes shifting over to your desk where the petals sat. you smacked your cheeks, shaking your head.

no, that would be a bad idea. you don't even know if they're legit. and what if they're actually poison. can you ever really trust venti's judgement with love potion flowers?

you took a deep breath, instead focusing on rummaging through your cabinet, allowing tighnari to slink around your room unnoticed.

he smiled softly as he gazed at your handwriting. it slowly got sloppier as time went on, hand cramping from writing page upon page.

the ink bottle he had purchased for you from inazuma sat on your desk, almost empty. he made a mental note to purchase more the next time he had the chance.

you had lined up your favorite pens and quills on the desk, your notebooks at the side, scratches and rips on the cloth covers, and-

petals?

tighnari arched an eyebrow, glancing over to where you were in the kitchen, busy with digging for decent tea leaves.

he carefully picked the package up, bringing it up towards his face to waft the scent into his nose.

familiar and sweet. the saccharine petals had an aroma he had smelled before, though not from any plants in sumeru. it seemed familiar, like something from mondstat. perhaps he had read about it. something about legends.

tighnari frowned, deep in thought, tail bristling when he finally remembered. of course, mondstat tales of lovers. these flowers brought good luck for couples and those attempting to court their desired partners.

but why would you have them unless-

unless you were trying to court someone? tighnari frowned deeper at that thought.

his ears perked up as he heard you close the cabinets, walking into the room as he quickly situated himself on a chair, neatly folding his tail across his lap.

"sorry it took so long!" you smiled awkwardly. "it's brewing now, it'll just be a few minutes."

"take your time, don't stress yourself out over tea." tighnari shook his head, mentally cooing at your adorable expression when you scratched the back of your neck.

you glanced over at the desk, eyes focused on the petals as you thought of a way to get them without tighnari noticing.

of course, the minute you glanced away, he knew.

and that must mean-

you intended to use them on him? oh, tighnari wished he could say something.

but oh, was he intrigued to see where this path would lead...

and so, he conveniently stood up, excusing himself to the restroom and allowing you to rush and add the petals to the tea. he could hear you clumsily dumping them into his cup, crushing them up.

it was almost endearing in a way to think you wanted to use a love potion on him. how could you not realize you had tighnari wrapped around your finger.

if you had asked tighnari sweetly enough to visit mondstat with you, he would have. if you asked tighnari for another inazuman ink bottle, you'd have one by the next morning. if you asked tighnari to carry you back to his home to visit with collei, he would be more than happy to find a way to do so.

he waited just long enough for you to figure out the petal situation before walking out, adjusting his hair and tail. "oh, is the tea ready?"

"yes, you have perfect timing as always it seems." you laughed as tighnari sat down across from you.

you lifted the kettle, carefully pouring two cups of tea, setting the kettle down and moving his cup to his side. "there we go. i hope you like it- when i was in mondstat i got some flowers for the tea. my friend says they're supposed to be very sweet, and they make tea smooth." you lied through your teeth, praying to the archons that this love spell somehow did work.

you watched as tighnari lifted the cup to his lips, blowing on the liquid before tasting some. it was indeed sweet, unlike most of the bitter brews he makes. "it's very good. a unique sugary taste. maybe i'll have to visit mondstat myself." tighnari hummed, taking larger sips of the tea and watching as your eyes grew comically wide.

"wow, i'm glad you like it so much!" you raised your cup to your lips, feigning a sip as tighnari pretended not to notice. you brushed the hair away from your face, feeling hot as tighnari leaned in closer towards you.

your lips parted, though no words came out as tighnari's nose touched yours. "can i ask you something?"

"anything." you breathed out.

"did you really feel the need to give me a love potion? isn't it obvious i already like you?"

your mouth dropped as you scrambled backwards. "what- i, no, no i didn't- well...it's not what you think, i'm so sorry-"

"i'm not." tighnari shrugged, downing the cup. "i was waiting for you to realize how much i care for you. it isn't easy coming all the way here, you know. especially when it's dark. it isn't easy getting inazuman commodities or fancy sweaters from snezhnaya, you know."

tighnari's words made your face feel hot as you pressed your palms to your cheeks. "why didn't you just say something before?"

"because you're cute when you're flustered." tighnari admitted, surprised at his own boldness. maybe those petals really were affecting him differently due to his anatomy?

you let out a gasp, watching tighnari slowly approach you, crawling closer, almost like a predator stalking his prey.

"tighnari-" you called out to him, feeling him lean over you. his body was warm, radiating heat as you suddenly shook out of your stupor. "tighnari, you feel really hot- i mean warm! you must be sick or something, oh archons, what if i poisoned you. stupid, stupid, i knew i shouldn't have trusted venti." you tried to pull tighnari up, yet he wouldn't budge, instead firmly gripping your chin and tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"i can tell that love potion isn't doing what you thought it would hm?" tighnari dragged his thumb across your lip, feeling you lean closer to him. "i planned this whole trip to confess to you, honestly. but i think this is a lot more exciting, don't you?"

"tighnari, i've never seen you like this before." you admitted, eyes starry as you gazed up at him. your thighs rubbed against eachother slightly as tighnari suddenly closed his eyes and groaned.

"fuck, i can smell your arousal." you watched as tighnari's pants slowly formed a tent, ears pressed back to his head.

his eyes opened, looking slightly different than before. he almost seemed feral in a way as he suddenly began tearing off your clothes, claws ripping through fabric as you clung onto his shoulders.

he pressed feverish kisses into your skin, pulling your core down against his lap and rutting against you while stripping your form.

how you ended up on your back, knees pressed to your chest was anyone's guess.

you had already come once from him fingering you, licking at your clit and rubbing against your g-spot in the most perfect way, sending you over the edge quickly.

now, he had you underneath him, cock pushing in and out of you at such a rapid pace it had your head spinning. tighnari was mumbling under his breath, almost growling as he fucked into you harshly, heavy balls slapping against your skin.

you cried out for him, tightening as he came deep inside of you. it was thick, dripping out of your hole as you tried to take shallow breaths, gasping as he suddenly started moving again. "what-"

"oh, someone miscalculated their dosage, hm?" tighnari laughed, pressing down harder on the backs of your thighs and fucking you with fervor, grinding into your sweet spot until he had you coming around his cock, trembling beneath him.

he gave you barely any time to recover, playing with your clit and fucking you faster as you sobbed for tighnari, body teetering between extreme pleasure but overstimulation.

you cried out his name, feeling his teeth press along the column of your neck. you arched, allowing him full access to the skin as he hummed his approval, biting down into your skin with the intent of leaving his mark.

you felt him collect the mix of your cum leaking around his dick before coming back to play with your clit, feeling your body shake as he threw you into another orgasm that sent him into his own, filling you up again. his cum leaked out from your hole, though he tried to use his dick to plug it up inside you.

tighnari growled, discontented with the way his cum flowed out of you. "it has to stay in there-" he huffed, beginning to fuck you again as you whined.

"tighnari, wait! slow down- i-"

tighnari silenced you by pressing a deep kiss onto your lips. "it's okay, dear. it's alright. you can take it, i know you can. be a good girl." he smiled, pressing deeper into you, gripping your body and leaving indents from his nails as he grinned wickedly. "good girl."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x you #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚ #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

[munson-blurbs]

eddie/wedding/tequila 🍻

Drunk Eddie is my favorite Eddie to write hehehe 💚

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Eddie is absolutely plastered, allusion to smut

WC: 989

Join my 2k followers celebration!

--

The band plays the final note of The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” and begins the opening chords of “Truly Madly Deeply.”

“Okay, let’s slow things down for all the lovebirds out there,” the lead singer croons into the mic. “Grab your sweetheart and bring ‘em onto the dance floor.”

You make your way over to your table and extend your hand. “May I have this dance?” you ask sweetly, frowning when the metalhead shakes his head. A lock of his curly brown hair comes loose from the bun at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie slurs, taking another sip of his drink, “but ‘m married to the love of my life. I only wan’ dance with her.”

Stifling a giggle, you sit in the chair next to him and rub his back. “I know that. Because I’m your wife, Eddie.” You motion to the diamond on your ring finger and the silver band on his. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome. ‘Cause you’re, like, s’fucking beautiful.” He gasps. “Holy shit, my wife is beautiful!”

The scent of tequila wafts from his breath, and you crinkle your nose. “Eds, how many shots did you and Robin do?”

Eddie whines and throws his head back. “Don’t make me do math at a party!” He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs your hand, placing it atop his scalp. “Can you give me scratches?”

You oblige, kissing just above his ear. “C’mon, puppy dog,” you tease. “Let’s get you back to the hotel room.” Starting to help him up, you spot Steve making his rounds, bow tie undone and face flushed from dancing. You send up a silent prayer that Eddie won’t attract his attention, but it must get intercepted. 

“Harrington!” your husband calls out. Multiple guests turn to face you; it is a Harrington wedding, afterall. “Get over here, big boy!” He stumbles towards the groom and claps a ringed hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Y’havin’ a good time?”

“The best.” Eddie is fully leaning on his friend now, and you mouth Sorry in Steve’s direction. “Dude, my wife is so hot.”

You bury your head in your hands; your cheeks are burning with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Eddie,” you insist, grateful that Steve appears unfazed by the comment. 

“Stevie, you ever been in love?” Eddie asks, suddenly serious. His eyes are glassy and half-lidded; it’s only a matter of time before he falls asleep. 

Steve looks around at the hotel ballroom, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah. I just got married, like, three hours ago. You were a groomsman.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie sounds as though he’s receiving brand-new information. “Congrats, man. Anyway,” he presses on, ignoring you tugging on his sleeve, “I jus’ want you to know that I, Eddie Munson, am also in love. With this girl right here.” He flails his free arm around until he finds your waist and pulls you into him. 

“Well, I’m, uh, happy to hear that,” Steve manages, and you shoot him another apologetic glance before dragging Eddie to the elevator and into the hotel room. You can’t turn the key fast enough. 

Eddie flops onto the bed, still fully dressed in his tuxedo and shoes. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before he pipes up:

“We gotta beat Steve.”

Despite your better judgment, you respond with an incredulous, “what?”

“We gotta beat Steve,” Eddie repeats. “We got married, but now he’s married, too. So we’re not winning anymore.” He pouts for a millisecond before sitting up suddenly, steadying himself on the sheets. “We should have a baby!”

You burst out laughing. “Babe, I love you. But I am not bringing new life into this world just so you can win some imaginary competition against Steve.”

“Fine,” Eddie slumps down, defeated. 

You figure that will be the end of the discussion, but you should know better at this point. You’re rifling through your suitcase for a pair of pajamas when you hear the mini fridge door open. 

“What are you doing now?” you hiss. 

“‘M wooing you so you’ll have my baby,” he hiccups, pulling out a small bottle of Patrón and unscrewing the cap. “I call this one the ‘wraparound.’” Eddie proceeds to drag the bottle around his head, spilling tequila everywhere. “Oopsie daisy!” He cackles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

You pluck the half-empty bottle from his grasp and set it on the nightstand. “Eddie, get out of those clothes and Go. To. Bed.” you say through gritted teeth. 

Eddie snorts. “If you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out to dinner first.” But he obliges, sleeping as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you snuggle in next to him. He rarely drinks beyond an occasional post-work beer, so you’re glad he let loose tonight. You just wish you didn’t have to babysit him. 

Eddie stirs, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist. “My sexy lil’ wife,” he mumbles. “Prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen.” He nestles into the crook of your neck. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” you tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face and kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta make a baby so we can beat Harrington.”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply tersely, rolling your eyes. 

But the next morning, after a cup of black coffee and two Advil, Eddie’s ushering you back into bed. 

“I was serious about that baby, sweetheart,” he muses. “And not because of a contest with Steve.” 

You smile, bringing your lips to his soft, plush ones. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms, climbing on top of you and peppering your face with kisses. “But if there was a contest, we would totally be the superior couple.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

#bug's 2k celebration #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[sassycheesecake]

"Keeeeeenmaaaaaaa." You call your roommate out from the kitchen, hoping he hears you from his current stream.

Silence.

"Ugh." You growl and make your way to his streaming room.

First, he texts you to warm up the leftovers from last night instead of talking to you like a normal human being. Then he doesn’t answer you, even if he texted to call for him to tell him it’s ready.

Hearing him talk through the closed door, you open it a bit after knocking three times.

"One sec, roomie called. You can come in." Kenma looks over his shoulder, when he spots you, he turns around to tell his fans he’ll be afk for five minutes.

Now fully turning to you in his overly expensive gaming chair, you have his full attention.

"You texted me 10 minutes ago that you wanted the pasta heated up remember?" You lean against the door frame while crossing one leg over the other.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I’ll go and get it." The dyed blonde gets up slowly from his chair, bending his back a little bit, until he hears it crack.

Sighing deeply, he sets his cat-ear headset down, walking past you, dragging his legs like a zombie.

You watch him walk down the hallway towards the kitchen, when he rounds the corner you see his chat still being active, thankfully his Webcam is currently off.

Soon enough, you hear his light foot steps again and this time he has a bowl in his hand and he’s eating while walking.

"Don’t choke." You tease.

"I won’t." He mumbles while eating the noodles.

"Sooo… what are you playing?" You walk in a little bit with him in his room, watching as he sits down again.

"Wocket Leeg." He replies with his mouth full.

"Sounds fun." You lean over his shoulder as you watch and read over the chat.

All of sudden, you see a few names popping up that are mentioning your name, freaking out with excitement that they are hearing a female voice of the roommate of THE Kodzuken.

"They want you to say 'hi'." Finishing up his food, he turns to you with a gleam in his eyes, putting the headset back on.

Squishing your face against his, so you can talk into the mic, you greet his fans which causes a blow up in the chat, people being super hyped to hear you for the first time.

"So uh... what should I say?" You ask Kenma in an intriguing voice, reading the comments as they almost explode at hearing a female's voice and such a beautiful one at that.

"Just say anything, they seem to love you already more than me." Kenma laughs softly.

You laugh along with him, when a comment catches your eye.

spaceExplorer234: yo who dis? that your girlfriend?

Your cheeks begin to heat up in embarrassment and since your cheek is still smushed against his, he can feel the warmth and it makes him blush too.

"No, I am not his girlfriend. Just his roommate, occasionally his chef and also his maid, when he leaves his dirty socks lying around." You laugh and Kenma groans in embarrassment.

The chat explodes yet again, this time with lots of laughing gifs and people sending clapping hands emoji, calling you 'queen' and 'gaming wifey' after you revealed that you play games as well, just not on stream like your roommate.

Kenma drinks his diet coke, when he reads the message after you.

"'Gaming wifey'? That's kinda cute. Am I your gaming wifey?" You grin easily at him and he chokes on his soda.

BigDaddyTacobell420: I ship it!!!!!!!

You and Kenma both read that comment and you look at each other briefly before looking away quickly, an intense blush spread across both of your faces.

Thank goodness the chat can’t see your faces, they’d have a blast.

Coughing a bit, you tell Kenma you need to get back to your studies and he mumbles out a quiet okay.

Leaving the room, the dyed-blonde looks at your retreating figure, getting back to his game and talks to his chat again.

SnackMaster1652: Kodzuken if you don’t ask her out I will

"Well good luck trying to reach her. She doesn’t have any social accounts. But I plan to ask her out, I just hope she’ll say yes…" Kenma says with a big sigh, still calming his heart down from the person that said that they ship the two of you together.

Nonetheless, somehow Kenma got a good feeling that his chances are high.

And how right the former Setter was….

Four months later, Kenma is playing CS:GO on his keyboard, but this time he has a player two joining him.

Said Player Two is sitting in his lap, controlling the keyboard while Kenma controls the mouse.

"Go around the corner, no no the other one."

"Be more specific!"

"Go B."

"Okay."

You press the character to walk forward with his gun, changing the weapon to a sniper rifle.

"Babe, you have to plant the bomb you know?"

"Don’t tell me what to do, I am trying to survive here."

"We will survive by planting the bomb and then shooting off the other team."

"I don’t like conflicts…" You mumble as you get more comfortable in your boyfriend’s lap.

"Baby, I don’t know if you noticed but this is a shooter game. The whole point of playing it, IS to create conflict. We need to kill the other members." Kenma laughs.

"Yeah yeah."

It’s quiet for a few seconds until you spot an enemy of the opposite team and you scream as he starts shooting at you.

"Walk over behind the wall! Press S! Quickly!" Kenma yells and you yell back at him.

"I AM! STOP SCREAMING AT ME! I DON’T WORK WELL UNDER PRESSURE!"

The enemy spots you again and immediately fires at you and kills you.

"This is your fault." You mumble after the defeat.

"How is this my fault?! You’re controlling the movement, I am just shooting!" Kenma says in bewilderment.

The stream is having a blast, the banter and the bickering between the two of you always make the viewers laugh and comment at the behavior of you and Kenma like an old married couple.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyū!! #hq x reader #hq fluff #nekoma #kenma x reader #kenma kuzome #haikyuu kenma #hq kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x you #kenma fluff #kozume x reader #haikyuu kozume

[chvoswxtch]

Girl I have been silently reading and praising your stuff from my sisters account. Like liking all you stuff for safekeeping. The whole thing crashed and now I am trying to do the whole interacting thing. I am so embarrassed and scared that my idea is shit so this I am anonymous. But listen - I check your blog every day for updates. I luv u.

Okay my request is a bit messy. But like an angsty/fluf fic with Frank and a woman who is like small but indestructible - you know like a super power or x-gene thing. You cant see any wounds on her body they´ll just heal or something. And all she wants to do is protect Frank and he is just not having it.

If this is shit and not duable I get it! And if I missed somebody writing something simular please share the link - I would love it! Rant over...sorry...and thank you <34567

hi nonnie!

firstly, welcome. there's no need to hide in the shadows, or to apologize or feel embarrassed or any of that. i'm happy you're here and felt comfortable sharing your idea with me! I actually got a somewhat similar request, so I ended up combining the two to get the best of both worlds :)

also if you're into frank x powered reader, I highly recommend @grippingbeskar! she has an entire completed series called salt, ice, and fire that is phenomenal that I can't gush about enough

I hope you enjoy!

warning: swearing, mentions of guns & blood word count: 1.4k

bulletproof.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck are you doin’?”

Frank’s thick brows were angrily bunched up in the middle of his forehead, a trail of crimson slowly leaking from the cut that covered the bridge of his freshly broken nose. His jaw was harshly set and he scowled deeply at you while switching out the cartridge on his rifle by muscle memory, not even having to look down.

“I told you-“

“No, I told you to take the goddamn stairs to the roof while I took out-

“I had it under control, Frank!”

Frank scoffed and let out an exasperated puff of air through his lips while shaking his head and gesturing towards you loosely with his free hand.

“Under control my ass, look at you. If you had fuckin’ listened to me, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ right now.”

Frank’s voice had risen in volume, and the timbre of it carried through the empty space between the two of you with a subtle growl. He might have been pissed at you, but you were fucking furious with him. You’d lost count of how many times the two of you fought about the exact same fucking thing over and over, and you weren’t arguing about it with him anymore. 

The heavy sound of approaching footsteps and yells caught Frank’s attention, but as he began to march towards the open loading dock of the abandoned warehouse with purpose and a raging vendetta burning in his eyes, the metal shutter door suddenly came barreling down with a wave of your hand. It collided with the concrete floor, a loud thud echoing around the space, not only preventing Frank from getting out, but anyone else from getting in.

Frank instantly paused, snapping his head to look over his shoulder at you with an expression of pure annoyance covering his sharp features. Your eye color had shifted to an incandescent shade, glimmering like two deep red rubies caught in the sunlight. There was still a flickering scarlet glow around your right hand as you kept the door shut, and Frank could tell by the look on your face that you were incensed by his behavior, but he refused to back down anymore than you did.

Grabbing the hem of your top with your left hand, you hastily lifted it upwards just as one of the bullet holes above your right hip began to close up and heal. Frank’s narrowed gaze dropped downwards to watch, and his features softened just a sliver, only to harden once again when he looked back into your illuminated eyes. 

“I can heal, Frank. You can’t. So when I tell you I have something under control, that doesn’t mean you fucking jump in front of me guns blazing. That bulletproof vest can’t protect you from everything, and I swear to whatever God you believe in, if you pull that shit again and get yourself killed, I will find a way to raise you from the dead just to kill you myself.”

Frank didn’t visibly react to your words, even as your voice rose in a hysterical volume and filled the empty space surrounding you both. Any other person might have been fucking terrified to be alone with a woman that had glowing red eyes and could trap them somewhere with her mind. Then again, anyone else probably also would’ve been scared shitless to be alone in a room with the Punisher himself. 

But Frank wasn’t afraid of you, just like you weren’t afraid of him. You both knew what the other was, and you loved each other anyway.

That was the root cause of your recurring argument. Frank wanted to protect you, and you wanted to protect him. Despite him knowing about your abilities, he still felt responsible for you. He didn’t like seeing you get hurt, even if it did heal. He didn’t want anything to happen to you if he could prevent it.

Letting his rifle drop by his side, Frank let out a deep exhale through his broken nose, his eyes wandering over your figure slowly before meeting your gaze.

“You know how much I hate seein’ you get hurt, baby. You know what it does to me.”

The sudden change in his voice to a softer and more sincere tone had your eyes shifting back to their natural color, and your previous anger began to instantly cool. You did know. If someone so much as bumped into you on accident, Frank was ready to tear them to shreds. He had always been extremely overprotective of you, and knowing his traumatic past, you couldn’t blame him, or stay upset with him for very long.

Letting out a soft sigh of your own, you ran one of your hands through your hair before taking a few steps towards him, your heeled boots echoing along the cement floors. Despite the three inches of height they gave you, Frank still towered over you completely. The size difference between the two of you was nearly comical, especially considering he was the “big and scary” one.

But you were the little witch that had a nasty temper.

“You think I enjoy seeing you get hurt? I’m the one who has to fix you up, remember?”

Neither one of you paid any mind to the incessant banging on the shutter door, or the sound of ricocheting bullets and yelling coming from the other side. When you brought your hands up to gently grab Frank’s face, he leaned down to nuzzle into your palms and instantly melted into your touch, his attention solely focused on you.

“I know.”

Brushing your thumb lightly along the violet bruise that began to bloom on his right cheekbone, you took in the cut along the bridge of his nose and frowned softly with a sigh.

“Your nose is broken again.”

“Ain’t the first, won’t be the last.”

“Can I try something?”

Frank arched one of his thick brows in question, glancing over his shoulder momentarily at the shutter door before looking at you again.

“Right now?”

“You have somewhere to be?”

Rolling his eyes, Frank let out a soft chuckle and gave a slight nod of his head.

“Alright. S’pose they ain’t gettin’ in no time soon.”

A proud smirk was all you offered in return to his comment. Taking a deep breath, you removed your right hand from his face and let your index finger hover over his wounded nose. Focusing intently, your hand was once again glowing, and you traced a crimson line in the air from the top to the bottom of his nose. All of a sudden, the cut on the bridge of his nose sealed up, and the indigo patches that had blossomed around it vanished.

Frank blinked a few times in dumbfoundment, wiggling his large nose and glancing down at it in a mixture of confusion and awe. Your own eyes widened in surprise, and your mouth hung open in shock before your lips parted into a wide grin. Frank looked at you, his features twisted up in wonder and puzzlement.

“Holy shit. How the hell did you do that?”

“I…I don’t know. I just…wanted to see if I could, and…focused really hard. I can’t believe it actually worked!”

Frank stared down at you incredulously when you said that.

“The hell you mean you can’t believe it actually worked? You didn’t know it would? What if you had given me a tail or somethin’? Or put my ass where my nose was?”

“Oh, well then I could never kiss you again.”

Frank actually looked offended by that, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression while you gently patted his shoulder and stepped around him to face the shutter door, brushing your hair off your shoulders.

“Alright big guy, let’s wrap this up. I’m starving, and there’s a Gilmore Girls marathon waiting with our name on it.”

Frank’s plush lips pursed in an adorable pout as he cocked his rifle and aimed towards the shutter door, keeping his narrowed gaze locked on you.

“You and I are gonna have a serious talk ‘bout this magic shit when we get home.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle request #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic

[queers-gambit]

When Pride Married Prejudice

[ part two ]

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: in the beginning, your mother delivers disturbing news, but perhaps, not all is as it seems.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: spoilers, cursing, small angst, 150% filler, small background, author breaks the fourth wall once but go with it - i promise it works. author is also given free rein of her imagination and this came out...hmm... ❗️major season one, episode seven spoilers

"What?" You asked with a beg over the sounds of the crashing waves on the cliffside your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, had lead you out to stand on. She had just delivered devastating news with a sympathetic gaze, making you beg her again, "Say it's not true, Mother, please, no, no. Th-This isn't... Mum, how could this happen?"

"I am truly sorry, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra sighed, nodding at you as her hands caressed both your cheeks to sweep stray tears as they fell. Her forehead met yours, making her whisper, "But while I could not stop the entire proposal, I was able to bargain for leeway."

"What does that mean?" You pulled back to look into her lavender eyes. They were full of sadness and regret.

"You will remain at Dragonstone with your family, so I might continue to teach you - and so you do not have to interrupt your other studies. But..." She sighed deeply, blinking a few times to clear her thoughts.

"But?"

"They want you married before you turn ten-and-eight."

"No," you blanched, shaking your head in refusal to free yourself of her comforting hold, "they cannot make me marry him. Mother, please, do not let this happen."

"I could only barter for us a few years yet, my love."

"This is the payment they demand?"

"Better this, my sweet dove, then that of blinding your brother," she countered with a frown. "The Queen was unwilling to barter at first, but the King thought it a rightful proposal."

"And who, might I ask, offered my hand to Aemond Targaryen for payment over a childish squabble - that, yes, did maim the boy, but that's not... It's not like... Oh, Gods, yes, okay, when I say it out loud, I suppose I can understand the reasoning. Then why does this still feel so wrong, Mother?"

She frowned and reached for you, pulling you in closer to hold. You clung to her in fright, allowing yourself a moment of rare vulnerability as you stood alone; the only sounds around you, that, of the temperamental sea. She spoke softly in your ear, "I am truly so very sorry, my sweet girl. I am." Her hand pet the back of your head, but her grip remained strong. "But there is honor in fulfilling one's duty. I wanted very different things for you, but fate is funny at times."

You tightened your hold on her. "Tell me the truth, Mother, what's happened?"

She sighed and laid a long, solemn kiss to the top of your head. "You are of an age now that you will understand." She gave a soft pinch to your chin, "And have always been much too mature for your age."

You chuckled softly, "I often think there's much you don't know about me. I am not the perfect child you've tried to mold me into."

"Oh, I know everything, my girl," she grinned, making you feel heated from embarrassment. "You were truly restless as a child, it was hard to keep you within the castle walls. But might I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"Ser Harwin was always looking after you," she chuckled. "He would take extra shifts in the night to patrol the city just to ensure you were safe. But what he reported back always made my heart swell with genuine pride."

"Might I tell you a secret?" She nodded and let one hand hold your upper arm and the other to caress an unruly strand of hair back behind your ear. "I always wondered if one day, you would name me your heir... So, when I could not sleep, I liked to linger around the city. I liked knowing the people, thinking, if I were to ever govern them, I'd better know them best."

"See?" She nodded. "Always far too mature for your age. Yet the matter of succession with us has differed..." You braced yourself. "You are my eldest child, and my only girl," she spoke fondly. "And when my Father named me his heir, going against decades of tradition, I always promised myself that I would not do the same to my daughter unless I had no choice. I would never make her endure what I was forced to. Yet, you were still young when Jace was born, and your Father and I had a conversation. Should the matter come up publicly, you were always to be heir to Dragonstone, and that was the end of the matter. When Luke was born... Things shifted again, but only just. You were still my heir to our home, but now, Jace is to be my heir after I take the Throne, and then Luke is to succeed his father's birthright to Driftmark."

"And now? With Joffrey?"

"Much will be discussed later," she promised. "But I have declared to the King that you are to inherit our home on Dragonstone, and there is no change in that. He approved, but..."

"But what?"

"He also approved of your hand being offered," she swallowed thickly.

"You would tell me in truth what has happened?" You nodded, holding onto her waist to keep yourselves anchored. She nodded, sighing deeply before starting her tale.

And yet, Dear Reader, to fully understand, we need to go back.

Your hand was held tightly in your father's ever since he received news of his beloved sister, Laena Velaryon, passing away due to complications from childbirth. In an effort to avoid being sliced open and bleeding out to death, Laena had risen from her bloody birthing bed, and hobbled outside to beg her dragon, Vhagar, to let her meet her end through dragon fire.

Neither your Mother, nor Father, the Lord Laenor, knew you had snuck into the study and read the scroll sent to them by your Great Uncle Daemon - who gave an honest recount of events.

Now, he and his two twin daughters, your cousins, Rhaena and Baela, were flying from across the Narrow Sea to lay the charred bones of Laena to rest on her ancestral home. And because Laena was a Velaryon before she took the name Targaryen, she was to be launched into the sea by means of an intricately carved coffin.

She'd rest with other Velaryon's at the bottom of the raging waters.

Laenor stood stoically as his Uncle Vaemond spoke in High Valyrian, proceeding over the funeral service as your entire family - both Velaryon and Targaryen - had gathered to pay their respects. Laena's coffin, which was carved to encapsulate her ethereal beauty, was set to a launching-cliff, and ropes were thread around to push and plunge her into the crashing waves beneath.

However, as Vaemond spoke clearly above them all, he was offering dirty, hardened looks to your Mother as she held your younger brothers around the shoulders. For a moment, you thought it looked as if they were shielding their mother, and you, who had inherited the Velaryon-Targaryen trademark features, stood between them and your father; creating a visual divide, unknowingly.

But you didn't think that way.

Your only concern right now was being there for your sweet, honorable Father, as he grieved silently with tears sliding down his cheeks. His hand was tight, and you knew he drew strength from your presence.

Daemon stood across the way, somewhat beside Vaemond, and could observe those around him as he stood with his hands crossed in front of him. Vaemond's words were veiled with threat, head turning to stare directly at your mother, "Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true." King Viserys even recognized the tone; sparing a look to his daughter, who pulled her sons closer. "And ours must never run thin."

And then, oddly, Daemon started to chuckle.

Oh, one could chalk it up to hysteria of a grieving husband, but you knew better. You were a sponge in the courts and listened to everything said; forming your own opinions and often needing to sort through what you'd heard to form something of a mixed-truth.

You knew of the rumors surrounding your Great Uncle and his niece, your Mother, Rhaenyra... And this moment, where he literally giggled to himself, was in an effort to get the attention off of your Mother - and shift those beady eyes who offered her judgement onto himself.

You knew half-truths, mostly content to observe and just listen. It served you well enough - now, a perfect moment to see through Daemon's hysteria. He was offered nothing but silent, dirty glares - most of which came from your grandparents, the Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen; who stood, comforting Daemon's children while still grieving their own lost daughter.

Two young girls who had lost their mother and were watching her about to be laid to rest... And their Father laughs?

While Velaryon blood ran thick with salt, Targaryen blood was hot with fire - and the devastating need to protect one another. In those moments, Daemon felt the burning, pressing need to protect Rhaenyra over comforting his own daughters - something you'd come to grow used to.

The ropes were tightened, and your Father's arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug; something you returned with tight arms. He needed you, and you were there for him.

Salt was thrown over the coffin as it was edged over the cliff and Vaemond gave the final words of service. Just before Laena was plunged over the edge, he spoke, "From the sea we came. To the sea, we shall return."

The day had passed sluggishly and after a meal, you found yourself still with your father - but watching him sadly wade in the waters lapping at the rocky shoreline of the island. Dragons flew above you all, and once or twice, you saw your great emerald beast circling the island; playfully soaring around other (smaller) dragons.

"Daddy?" You called from the shoreline, feeling your nerves spike the longer you stood there. The sun was moving into position to sink and knew the hours grew later. "Daddy? Maybe we should go in now? 'S getting a bit cold - the waters are freezing! Daddy! Come in, please!"

He did not respond, he just stood there; waist-deep in the tide with you watching on the shoreline. Your fingers twisted together in nervousness, feet shifting in the weighty sand.

"Father! Please, come inside with me?" You tried again, but to no avail. He had waded out there after the funeral's dinner, and while everyone gathered on the stone courtyard for drinks and mingling, your father had fancied a walk. For an hour now, he's been standing in the water.

Your head looked up towards where you knew the courtyard was, and caught sight of your grandsire glaring down at your father. He frowned when he caught your eye, then nodded, waving for you to come up. You nodded in return, looking to your father once more.

"Daddy, I have to go in, it's getting late," you tried. "I do not wish to leave you, come with me, please."

"Go on, my sweet darling," Laenor finally croaked - but did not turn.

You sighed with defeat and turned for the archway, hustling up the stone stairs, and just as you reached the top, Ser Qarl was rushing towards you. "Princess," he muttered with a nod, making you smile.

"He will not come in, even for me," you spoke softly, "good luck. Might have to force him out."

"Of course, thank you, Princess," He nodded and darted past you, letting you enter the courtyard finally. There were respectful nods from those who attended the funeral; most offering words of condolences before you caught the eye of the King.

Approaching the two men, you bowed with respect and laid a hand to your Uncle Daemon's arm. "I mean no intrusion, Your Grace, my Prince," you nodded to them both, "and apologize for the interruption I pose, I only mean to extend my condolences to you, Uncle. How sorry I am for your Lady wife, and for this loss you feel."

He nodded, letting his free hand pat over your own. "Thank you, my gentle niece."

"My Prince," you nodded, "Your Grace."

As you took your leave, you heard Viserys offering Daemon to return to King's Landing - to court, or other. You did not hear the rest, finding your mother in the crowd and making a beeline for her through a slew of distant family and members of court offering their words of sorrow.

"Sweet girl," she sighed when she embraced you. "Are you all right? Where is your Father?"

"I could not get him to come in with me," you admitted with shame. "He prefers to stand in the waters, I think it makes him feel close to Laena... Like they're both together again, if only in the tide."

She sighed, petting over your head, "You shoulder too much of your Father's grief, my sweet girl."

"It is never more than I can handle, Mother," you assured. "My skin has grown thick and there is little else to be whispered that can faze me now. My Father needs me, and I am happy to fulfill that duty."

Truth was, once upon a time when you lived in King's Landing, your older cousin, Aegon, started to publicly tease you for being a "Daddy's Girl," and let that come churn-up negative connotations. Rumors grew and festered because of your complexion, where your skin was shades lighter than Laenor's and had bright white hair - while your brothers were pasty-skinned with dark hair.

Aegon liked to tease you for your close relationship and others joined in, thinking it got under your skin. Thinking it was something to laugh about when your Father started to train you beyond what others thought "acceptable". He was your biggest supporter, and helped you push yourself to new limits with horse riding, sword fighting, archery, even just a bit of spear throwing. Laenor and Coryls even once took you on an adventure at sea, where you learned the 'ropes' of sailing and how to fish "properly". You never let the snide comments and vile words taint your view of your "Daddy" because you knew the truth.

Plus, you could just say to Aegon, "You wouldn't know a Father's love even if it slapped you in the face." That shut him up every time.

Rhaenyra smiled at you and gently caressed your cheek, but movement behind your shoulder caught her attention. When you turned to stand at her side with her arm around your waist, you noticed your Uncle Daemon surging past everyone - but stopped when Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, who had a public distaste for the Rogue Prince, stopped him to mutter something. You imagine it was condolences, but you were too far to hear it.

When Daemon managed some comment and then escaped down stone stairs, you mother looked around cautiously. "Mother," you warned through the corner of your mouth. "I would not, now is not the time."

"Hush now, my girl, come with me," she sighed, taking your hand, and leading you towards your brothers. When you reached them, she stooped to speak to them, "Your sister is in charge, do as she says, but I want you all to go to bed."

"But, Mother - "

She cut Jace off, "Go to bed."

With a meaningful look to you, you understood and gave her a reassuring nod with a squeeze to her hand; often thinking your minds were connected by some string - making nonverbal communication essential between you. You often found that was what you searched for in a person, first. How their body spoke, despite the words their mouths form.

"Come on, let's say goodnight," you coaxed your brothers, turning to your grandmother and cousins first. You knelt before them, offering, "My sweet cousins, I cannot say how sorry I truly am for this loss. But should you need it, I am here for whatever you need."

"Thank you, cousin," Rhaena whispered, leaning forward to hug you.

"I'm only a few doors down," you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. You bid Baela a goodnight as well, letting your brothers step up as you helped your grandmother to her feet. She smiled at you and pet over a lock of hair. "We're going to bed, Grandmother, I will see you in the morning, yes?"

She nodded, sparing a glance to the kids before taking you a few steps from them. She sighed, "How's Laenor?"

You frowned, "He would not come in from the sea, Grandmother. Not even for me..."

"He always had a soft spot for you," she sighed, "surely, if you can't get him in, he'll have to be moved."

You nodded, "I did try."

"You did incredible," she praised, taking both cheeks in hand. "I have heard nothing but songs of how you have been the support your father needs. Thank you for being there."

"It is the least I can do after all he's done for me," you whispered. "I only wish I could take his pain. It is a weight that I fear he is buckling under slowly."

Rhaenys sighed and nodded. "I fear for it, too, my sweet. All right, well," she sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "You get some sleep, some well-deserved rest. You've had a day."

"We all have," you whispered, taking her hands in yours, "and Grandmother? I-I want to tell you that I am sorry for you loss. No parent should ever have to bury their child."

She sighed and nodded, squeezing your hands. "You have always been the sweetest girl - and I am so proud to be your Grandmother. I love you, thank you for your words."

Your eyes shut and let her lean in to kiss your forehead. "I love you, too," you promised, smiling at her when your eyes opened to her softened gaze. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she nodded, letting go of you so you could take your little brothers under your arms.

"Grandfather," you spoke to Corlys as you approached. "I hate to interrupt, but we are off to bed and wish to say goodnight."

He gave you all a smile and gentle hugs, speaking softly, "Goodnight, my dears. I'll see you in the morning." Finding no other family members that you cared enough to speak to, you lead your brothers into the Driftmark castle.

You nodded to those you passed, easily navigating the boys to their rooms and did not leave until they were changed and in bed properly.

"Sister?" Luke whimpered.

"Yes, my sweet?" You paused to turn back to him, single candle in your hand and one on his bedside table.

"I-Is Ser Harwin truly gone?"

You sighed, pausing to sit on his bed and pet some hair off his forehead. "I'm afraid so, sweet boy. But Mother speaks true, the Strongs are not our kin and we are needed here. But that does not mean you cannot mourn him, Luke. He was a gallant knight and truly felt part of our family - though he was not our blood."

He nodded, "Could we say prayers for him?"

"Of course," you agreed. "I'll say one for him tonight, too, all right?"

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you lean in to peck his forehead.

"I love you," you promised, letting a finger push the button of his nose.

"I love you, too," he nodded, snuggling into the blankets. "Good night."

"Good night, sweet boy," You whispered, blowing out his bedside candle and parting ways with your own single candle in a holder. You shut their door and moved for your own room, but just before you could prepare yourself for bed, you heard a strangled roar from your opened windows.

It could've been any dragon, but something felt familiar about this sound.

Something felt wrong and you were quick to change into a pair of trousers, a tunic, and boots; rushing off from your room with the intention of checking on your dear, sweet Kasta. She wasn't by any means the largest around but she showed no sign to stop growing - making her rival a few older dragons already. You worried she was being challenged, and easily snuck from the castle walls.

However, you gasped when you rounded a cliffside and almost ran straight into someone.

"You!"

"Aemond! Gods!" You hissed, glancing around and pushing him towards a small alcove of the cliffs in case of any patrolling guards. "What're you doing out at this hour? You should be in bed!"

"What're you doing out? You should be in bed, too," He retorted quickly.

You narrowed your eyes, "I have reason - "

"Maybe I do, too."

You hummed, eyeing him a moment. "What if we agreed to go about our business - never seeing each other, hey?"

He considered it before nodding. "Deal. I didn't see you, you didn't see me."

"Exactly," you chuckled to your 'uncle', though you were 18 months older than him. It was strange, indeed. "Whatever you're doing, just be careful, Aemond."

He nodded, "Yeah. You, too, Y/N."

You both snuck away in opposite directions - where you made for the mouth of the Dragon Pit, and Aemond, in the direction of open sand dunes. You were curious and considered following him, but you were distracted by wanting to check on Kasta more.

After sneaking beneath the Pit, you could not locate your great beast and didn't know if you felt relief or not. So, you spent the better part of an hour searching for the emerald green beast, sighing with relief when she was located at last. Only after you had to scale a fucking cliff, but she was worth it.

"Kasta," you panted in High Valyrian upon approach, the lazy dragon lifting her head from the sandy nest she'd made. "What're you doing, my girl? Hey?" You chuckled lightly, hearing her whine lowly. You sat at her head, giving it a loving stroke. "It is warm in there?" She lipped at your hands, making you wonder, "You okay? I heard something and worried it was you - that you might've been in trouble?"

She growled lightly, lifting her head in interest when the distinct beating of wings was heard - along with a voice shouting in exhilaration. You lifted your head to spy Vhagar circling the island, curiosity peaking; but also assuring you that it was not your dragon that you heard before.

"I thought Vhagar had no rider?" You questioned Kasta, but the dragon lifted her head to stare into your eyes - giving a knowing look. "I see," you whispered.

There was a shuddering quake to the ground, and you knew somewhere nearby, a dragon landed. When your own dragon gave a soft snarl, you felt something on the back of your neck stand on end. She left her head fall back down as you stood.

Unknown to you, your siblings and cousins had searched for you in your rooms before deciding to confront Vhagar's newest rider by themselves. Yet, unknown to them, you were expertly scaling down the cliffside to rush for the Dragon Pit.

Yet, you were still too late.

Aemond had Luke by the throat - all the kids bloodied and bruised to some capacity - and with a large, jagged rock in a raised hand above his head, Aemond was threatening, "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards!"

"Aemond! NO!" You raged, rushing to the scene out of pure panic from seeing your younger siblings, cousins, and uncle all bearing marks of a fight.

"My father's still alive!" Luke struggled in Aemond's grip, sobbing.

"So, he doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?" Aemond snipped at Jace with a sneer, and to your shock, Jace then brandished a dagger.

"NO!" You finally made it to them; first yanking the two girls further back for safety, but it left time for your brothers to attack. "JACE!" You screamed with Baela, trying to keep them back as the boys were so intertwined in a fight, you could not intercede them. And with a dagger in play, you did not risk being an accidental casualty.

Aemond had thrown back Luke and wacked Jace in the head with the rock - knocking both to the floor in whimpering pain.

"All right, that's enough, hey, hey, no more - no fucking more," you stepped in, hands held in peace. "No, you've all made your points - Aemond, please," you begged when your uncle rose the rock above his hand again, smirking in taunt, with the intention of bashing Jace's head in. "Aemond - think for a moment, do not do this," you tried to reach for him, but it was too late. Jace threw a handful of sand to Aemond's face, blinding him a moment, and leaving time for Luke to pick up the forgotten dagger. "NO, LUKE, DON'T!"

But it was far too late.

Luke swung his brother's dagger upward and sliced through Aemond's face - both boys screaming. One in exhilaration and the other in unfiltered pain.

"NO!" You screamed again, reaching Luke first and making him drop the dagger by wrangling his wrist in your hand; your adrenaline pumping so harshly that you didn't realize when the blade sliced through the skin of your palm. You turned quickly, only vaguely hearing the Knight's Guards arriving. "Aemond, Aemond," you begged, taking hold of the moaning and groaning Prince. "Oh, let me see, let me see, c'mon, lad, 's all right, let me have a look," you hushed, huddling over him for privacy and coaxing his hand away. "Gods be good," you hissed, snapping his hand back in place and using your own to add pressure. Both of your hands bloodied within seconds. "Hold pressure, hold the pressure," you told him softly, looking up to see the White Cloaks. "L-Lord Commander, the Prince Aemond needs a Maester at once."

"Let me see," he knelt.

"No, no, it needs pressure for the bleeding," you told him, keeping firm hold on your distant uncle. "Come, help me get him to his feet."

"What happened?" He demanded, doing as you bid.

"I do not know, I arrived too late," You covered, helping Aemond but turning to walk at his back to keep hold over his hand, over the sliced eye he was basically holding in socket.

It was pure chaos from then on, and once you were all gathered in the throne room, the Maester took over.

"Y/N!? Aemond!? Oh, my Gods! What has happened!?" Alicent demanded as she rushed into the room; Viserys limping with his cane in hand not far behind her.

"In a moment, Your Grace," you pleaded, the boy sitting with your hands still holding in injury.

"I need to see the wound, Princess," the Maester frowned.

"All right," you agreed with him, and then looked to your uncle. "Easy, easy, easy, it's gonna gush a little," you whispered, your bloodied hand peeling Aemond's with your own to give sight to the full injury.

You could've thrown up from the sight, but only stepped away as more members of court arrived on scene and the Maester was swooping in.

Turning to Alicent, you explained, "In truth, Your Grace, I do not know much - other than the boy has been maimed. I read it's important to hold pressure to injury before a professional can take over, so, I only helped the Prince do that," you showed your bloodied hands.

"Dear girl," Viserys took your one hand, "you're bleeding on your own, I can see the cut."

"Oh, i-it's just a small cut, Your Grace," you nodded swiftly.

"How did you come by it?" Viserys demanded. His voice then lowered as he bowed his head to tell you privately, "You alone have always told your Grandfather the truth, do not let that change now."

You gulped but held your head up to tell him quietly, his withered hand still holding your wrist, "When I disarmed Lucerys, Your Grace."

"Why were you not in bed?" Alicent asked.

"In truth, I heard a dragon roar, and it sounded so familiar, I worried it was my dragon, Kasta. She's larger than some and still grows, I worried she was being challenged and then feared she was hurt. I was only out of bed, Your Grace, to check on Kasta, I swear it."

Viserys' eyes flashed to gaze heatedly over the others gathered from after the fight - but otherwise, just sighed. He nodded at you, "You're not at fault for worrying. Go on. Clean your hands, dear girl, let someone bind them."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you whispered, nodding with a small smile, "Grandfather."

He smiled briefly in return and patted your shoulder as you turned with dismissal, a handmaiden stepping up to help you wash your hands of blood in a basin and then examine the 'wound'. "It is shallow, Princess," she informed with a nod of her head. "It will heal, but I will bind it to help protect it. Perhaps avoid a sword in this time."

You smiled mutely and nodded, letting her work as the room was stewing in anger and tension as more and more members of the court showed up.

You waited patiently for your mother, letting your anxiety fester to new heights as you began to understand, as the eldest present to the scuffle, you'd be expected to recount events. But you didn't know all of the situation, only what the children had tried to tell you in a jumbled rush on your way there. But they didn't get far as the guards couldn't stand their squabbling, telling them to silence themselves until the King asked for explanation.

As the Maester worked, Viserys was demanding answers of the Lord Commander Westerling, and his Guards; who were not watching the Princes, and therefore, assumed fault for letting everything get to this point. By extension, as second in command with the Queen's Guard, Ser Criston Cole stood under interrogation, as well.

And the King was beyond angry; making you gently flinch when his voice turned hateful towards his guards.

Your hands were wrapped, and you moved along the edge of the crowd to then take a seat on the stone stairs that lead to the throne room to take a moment and think about what you witnessed. You needed time to absorb it all, to just think; to digest.

From beside the light of the hearth, Alicent, watching the Maester work on stitching Aemond's wound closed, asked, "It will heal, will it not, Maester?"

He paused a moment, the room turning towards the Maester and Prince for the answer; and your head lifted to listen. Your brothers stood beside one another without any cleaning to their wounds - simply because they were still on trial for this entire ordeal.

The Maester answered, "The flesh will heal, I'd wager because the Princess Y/N acted quickly to hold pressure." Eyes turned to you as you felt tears of embarrassment and anxiety fill your eyes, bowing your head to avoid their gazes. "But the eye is lost, Your Grace."

Both of Aemond's parents looked genuinely distraught as you finally stood to near your brothers; taking each of them under your arms. They noted the bandages on your hand, but did not get to comment as the Queen was rounding on her eldest son, Aegon, to demand, "Where were you?"

"Me?" Aegon asked, gasping when his mother's hand clapped against his cheek to whip his head to the side. "Ow!" He yelped, "What was that for?"

"That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!" Alicent hissed, teeth bared; her anger tangible.

The doors above you clanged open, and Corlys charged through them, demanding, "What is the meaning of this!?"

"Baela? Rhaena!" Rhaenys gasped, following her husband down the stairs. "What happened? What happened?" She asked, taking the girls instantly into her arms.

Corlys looked around with a fierce gaze, standing before you lot as you tightened your hold on the boys. Not a moment later, your mother was finally opening the doors - looking spooked by the news she received. "Jace?" She looked around - and when she located you three, she was shouting, "Luke!"

You stepped back to let your mother kneel before the boys; and felt a hand smooth around your shoulders. Looking up, Corlys brought you into his side for a tight hug. Your bandaged hand laid on his stomach, making him take it up and examine it with a tight jaw.

"Show me, show me," your mother rushed to your little brother, pulling Luke's hands from his face and revealing his own injury. "Who did this?"

"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted from his seat.

"He attacked Baela!" Jace shouted back.

"He broke Luke's nose!" Baela shouted, and then, the over-lapping voices were too great and many to make out. Yet, bits and parts met your ears as Uncle Daemon arrived on scene, and chose to lean on the door with crossed arms instead of rush for his injured daughters. You did not speak, Corlys and you stood silently and listened.

"He stole my mother's dragon!"

"Enough," Viserys demanded, but the children still shrilly argued.

"He was going to kill Jace!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Enough!" Viserys tried again.

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent joined the efforts.

"He called us - "

But Viserys roared over everyone, cutting Jace off, "SILENCE!"

The room echoed with the aftermath of ringing voices; everyone shying into themselves, and making your father's father tighten his hold around your shoulders. Behind you, your brother whispered to your mother, "He called us bastards."

Rhaenyra stood in thought and kept the bloody boys behind her, sharing a small look with you as her eyes skated over your bandage. But nothing could be said as her hands came to wring together as Viserys called, "Aemond..." His cane struck the stone with each step he took, "I will have the truth of what happened... Now."

"What else is there to hear?" Alicent interjected. "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."

"It was a regrettable accident," Rhaenyra swiftly defended - but even she sounded shaken.

"Accident," Alicent repeated, Corlys pulling you back a step to let your mother be seen. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son."

You wanted to correct her that it was Jace's dagger and Luke only picked it up when her son meant to bash in Jace's head - but now wasn't the time, because your mother was snarling in defense, "It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves." You nodded in agreement, and Viserys saw the motion. "Vile insults were levied against them."

"What insults?" Viserys questioned.

It was silent before Rhaenyra responded, "The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question."

"What?" The King asked.

"He called us bastards," Jace spoke up, making the room go still. This was the confrontation everyone was waiting on...

"Y/N?" Viserys asked, making you tense up.

"What?" Rhaenyra turned to you. "You were involved?"

"I only arrived at the end," you shook your head. "I do not know what was said or done in full," you begged to the King to understand through your words, and it seemed, your other Grandfather did by how he shifted slightly in front of you. "Though, yes, the word 'bastard' was hurled as insult, Your Grace..."

"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace," your mother swept back in, making you shudder a breath. "This is the highest of treasons..." Her words settled over everyone. "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

Aemond had turned in his seat to glare at your mother, his older sister; making the King look down at him. But it was the Queen who asked the Princess, "Over an insult? My son has lost an eye - possibly his life, should your daughter not of been there!"

Viserys looked again to Aemond, asking, "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?"

"The insult was training yard bluster," Alicent tried to save. "The lot of boys. It was nothing."

"Aemond..." Viserys prodded. "I asked you a question."

To save her son from answering, Alicent asked, "Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father? Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

"Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?" Viserys agreed, eyes looking to your mother.

"I do not know, Your Grace. I... Could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk," You mother answered.

"Entertaining his younger squires, I would venture," the Queen snipped, making some in the court smirk and snicker as the insult registered.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace," you pushed away from Corlys to face Alicent and the King, but your gaze was set on the redheaded woman, "because I understand you are distraught from your son's injury, but do not mistake that for giving you leave to openly insult my father, or add fuel to such allegations. This is not the training yard, Your Grace, leaving no room for bluster. Mind your manners."

"Come here, girl, and hush yourself," Corlys sighed, pulling you back to his side. He sighed as Viserys chose to ignore your comment, which made the Queen stiffen her spine and avoid your heated gaze.

"Aemond... Look at me," Viserys directed to his son, making the One-Eyed Prince meet his father's angered, hardened eyes. "Your King demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

You didn't see the Prince's eyes cut over to his mother, but saw the King straighten his spine to look at his wife - and knew.

It was as if a collective breath was held as the King was then told by his son, "It was Aegon."

"Me?" Aegon repeated quietly, looking truly shell-shocked to be thrown into the mix. You sighed gently.

The King now turned his sights on his eldest son, growling, "And you, boy?" He stalked up to the taller kid. "Where did you hear such calumnies?" But when his son did not answer, nor meet his gaze, the King shouted, "Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!"

With a tremble to his tone, Aegon spoke, "We know, Father." He met his father's gaze, "Everyone knows... Just look at them," his lip curled, "and then look at her. She is true-born, that cannot be disputed."

Your chin lifted as your glare turned deadly, daring anyone to say more as the King was silently surveying the room. But he chose not to pursue this further, and snapped, "This interminable infighting must cease!" His cane punctuated his words. "All of you! We are family!" He only glanced at Aemond, perhaps finding the injury too gnarly to look at longer; turning his gaze to the room again. "Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it!"

But nobody spoke as the King's words did not feel truly fair. Perhaps, the others were going to wait for him to leave to 'handle' this situation, but before he could, Alicent was speaking, "That is insufficient." The King turned to hear her words. "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken!" Alicent refused her husband's words.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys growled.

"There is a debt to be paid," she decided, and the room went still. "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Heads turned to look at your mother and brothers, and you broke away to then stand at your mother's side and kept Lucerys behind you. The crowd muttered with discomfort as the King approached the Queen, "My dear wife..."

"He is your son, Viserys," She begged through her tears. "Your blood."

"Do not," Viserys warned, "allow your temper to guide your judgement."

That was supposed to be that, but chaos still rained. She spoke defiantly, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

"Mother!" Luke gasped, and she kept him back and between you.

"Alicent," Viserys tried.

"He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son," Alicent sneered.

"You will do not such thing," Rhaenyra defended and your hands tightened on your brother.

"Stay your hand," Viserys demanded.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent refused with a shout, making it known she was desperate for action. And eyes turned for Cole, knowing he was nothing better than her leashed dog.

"As your Protector, my Queen," Cole refused - a smart decision.

"Alicent, this matter... Is finished," The King leered fiercely. "Do you understand?" It was quiet as the woman did not respond, everyone watching as Viserys turned from the room; but paused to address, "And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons," he then directed at Alicent, sneering, "should have it removed."

"Thank you, Father," Your mother spoke softly from her place, something making the hair on your neck stand on end. You did not turn as your mother did, lowering herself to speak to her sons - you watched the Queen.

And thankfully, you did.

You watched her stride for Viserys and yank a dagger from his belt and turn. "Mother!" You gasped, stepping in front of her protectively as the Queen charged.

"Alicent!" Viserys screamed.

"Stay with the King!" Westerling demanded of Cole as he followed Alicent. "HOLD YOUR APPROACH!"

"My girl!" Rhaenyra pushed you out of the way in time to step forward and take hold of either of Alicent's wrists. It was chaos as they engaged; everyone trying to space out and move from the way as the King's Guards were tangled amongst each other.

Luke screamed shrilly in fear as your mother took on Alicent. You wanted to turn for the boys and huddle them close, but Corlys was back at your side, and together, you both stood as pillars in front of them while Princess and Queen struggled against one another.

"Stay your hand, Cole!" Westerling demanded of the disobedient knight; making Daemon push off his post to intercept the man.

"You've gone too far!" Your mother struggled with Alicent.

"I?" The Queen repeated breathlessly. "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent! Let her go!" Viserys demanded.

"Mother!" You worried, wondering if you should step in. Would you be reprimanded for cutting down the Queen? You eyed the sword at your Grandsire's hip - leaving it open for you to take.

Yet, you dare not.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent spoke tearfully still. "It's trampled under your pretty foot, again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent!" Otto, the Queen's father, called from the end of the hall.

"And now you take my son's eye," she told your mother, "and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Your mother countered. "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness." She whispered, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent shouted in anger; the women pushing away from each other and blade sliced through flesh. Corlys and you both caught your mother when she was flung back, but the sounds of trickling blood pattering onto the floor drew your attention.

"Mum," you worried when her wrist was sliced open to let blood drip freely down her hand, through her fingers; pooling to the stone floor beneath you. "Gods," you whispered, looking up in shock, muttering for those who did not see, "you cut her."

"Darling," your mother hushed, but you were grabbing at her wrist to try to hold pressure - like you were trained to do.

It was silent besides that as everyone waited for the next move to be made. Nobody did until Prince Aemond stepped into the circle; earning the attention of those lingering.

"Do not mourn me, Mother," the Prince spoke softly, looking at Alicent. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... But I gained a dragon."

Vhagar had a new rider.

"This proceeding is at an end," Viserys decided, giving everyone a stern look. Cole wrangled free and Daemon stalked forward to crowd you closer to your mother; Luke coming up to hold your waist as you were holding the wound as tight as possible.

Aemond moved to hug his mother in comfort, something you were doing in your own way. Jace took the rear, and stood with Daemon and Corlys, giving Alicent a first look at the family that would bring ruin to her own. But your mother, too, got a good look at the family who would bring your own doom.

"Could we please see to this?" You asked, nodding at the blood that seeped, again, from between your fingers.

"Yes," Rhaenyra agreed. "Perhaps in our rooms."

"Let's go," you pleaded, offering the Hightower Queen one more glare before turning with your mother to keep the pressure on her wound.

"I sought an audience early this morning," your mother explained softly, "before the King and Queen were to depart for King's Landing. And I know it is feeling unfair, my girl, and I do not want to see you go, but the tension can not fester beyond this. Vengeance is a powerful weapon, and I would not see my family harmed for something as petty as this. My hope is that with Viserys around, they will warm up to you, and you will be safe."

"So, after you sent Jace, Luke, and I away this morning, you and Father discussed, what? Selling me off?"

"I know it hurts," she relented, but you sighed.

"No, no, I am only being jealous."

"Of what, sweet girl?"

"Perhaps of not having a cock of my own, so that I might have some say in these matters. Or maybe I am merely jealous of the idea of leaving you while the boys stay. Yet, at least, I will have some time with you yet before I am to marry - not many Ladies can say they have that luxury."

She took a sobering breath, "I knew you'd understand. But for all it can be worth, I am sorry."

You nodded, sighing, "For our family's honor, and for Luke's full vision, I will marry Prince Aemond when the time comes..."

"My girl," she breathed with relief, bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. After a moment, she pulled back to sniffle; and just over your heads, three of the royal dragons took flight - with Vhagar swooping low to the waters before following the King's ship.

You both paused to stare after them.

"Do you trust them, Mother?"

Rhaenyra sighed, "I trust my father, but the Hightower claws are dug deep." You both breathed for a moment. "You will be a single spot of Targaryen Black in a sea of Hightower Green, my love. Our House words must not be forgotten..."

Your chin lifted, knowing in heart, you would always be a Targaryen Dragon more than a Velaryon Sea Horse - telling her gently, "Fire and Blood..."

"When the time comes," Rhaenyra sighed, "I can only pray I leave you with dragon scales instead of skin - so that their green flames do not burn you, my sweet girl."

You smirked gently at her, "Mother, fire - whether Green or not, cannot kill a dragon. Though I know I've salt in my veins, too, it is the blood of Old Valyria, and fire will be my ally."

Rhaenyra sighed and turned to pull you in closer with a kiss to your head. "I know it is sudden news, but we still have years with each other. Much will change, but I will never leave you feeling unprepared." Movement, again, caught her eye over your shoulder; making her sniffle and sober up. "Go on, go now. Find your brothers for me, please."

You agreed, and after a kiss to her cheek, left her be; passing your silent Great Uncle Daemon along the way with only a head nod of acknowledgement.

Time on Dragonstone was never the same. Days after laying your Aunt Laena to rest, you lost your own father, Lord Laenor, to a petty quarrel he had with his lover, Qarl. The lad was never found, apparently somewhere lost to the Stepstones, but the anger never dissipated. Your mother had welcomed the Knight into the family, and he turned blade on your father?

In Laenor's father's hall?

The devastating blow was hardest on you, who could not grieve far enough. You internalized a lot of it, but your brother's tried to help you shoulder it all - yet this was a path you walked alone. Seemingly only days after that, on your ancestral home, your mother then married her Uncle Daemon, and your cousins Baela and Rhaena were now your step-sisters.

They lived with you all on Dragonstone and your mother took your education very seriously. Professors came into port to be guests of the castle, dedicating hours upon hours a day to tutor you in a broad arrangement of subjects.

History, philosophy, reading, philanthropy, writing, specialized tutors to broaden your Valyrian, a whole class on just diction - forcing you to learn new words; first-aid training, and even drawing.

Your step-father also took up your training after your beloved father had passed. Daemon recommended you work your anger and grief out through the training yard, and you took that advice to heart. He posed as a challenger in damn-near everything, and by the Gods, you tried not to feel competitive, but it sharpened your wit and instincts. Daemon knew what he was doing, and yet, never showed an ounce of 'loving warmth', only stoic respect.

Your mother taught you what she could about being both Lady and wife - taking meals privately with you to go into more expressive details. Questions you had, she answered; and as you grew older, you wondered deeper - and she often answered with red, flushed cheeks. Yet your mother kept her promise and would not let you go off to King's Landing unprepared.

You read books. Wrote letters, kept journals. Learned from experience, learned from reading; did what you could to understand as much as possible, never quenching your thirst for knowledge.

Perhaps, subconsciously, you wondered if this would create more distance between now and your marriage - but your 18th nameday was creeping up, and you were out of options.

Three months before, your summons arrived.

Your mother tried to deliver the news softly, but tears broke her waterline; and you understood that she meant to say goodbye. Apparently, by Queen Alicent's hand-written letter, you were to marry the Prince before the week's end, and it was already midweek.

Aemond did not wish for a big wedding, but your family insisted on something. Viserys had called upon the royal dressers, and all festivities would be covered. All you had to do was show up, and yet, it felt like that was the hardest chore. Your mother had sniffled as she pet your hair off your shoulders, nodding, "It's time, my girl."

Daemon opted not to attend the wedding and after a bit of persuasion, your mother and brothers decided to stay on Dragonstone with him. You were to travel alone because you were to hit the ground running, and you were beyond nervous.

Your mother helped pack your things - sending servants and maids away to let you two have moments of privacy. She gave you last second advice, promising that when you need it, she was always there for you. Dragonstone wasn't far by dragonback and there were always ravens to send - but she warned you about the Hightowers more than likely intercepting letters.

She advised you to write in code.

Promised she loved you.

Swore to you that marriage wasn't always all so bad; and before you knew it, you were standing with Kasta's packed saddle - facing your family for the final time.

"Well," you breathed, nodding at them all, "I wish to say that I will miss you all, and thank you for the incredible years."

"Good luck, sister," Jace nodded.

The night before, the boys had snuck into your room for the last time and let you hold them; tears of sadness weeping into their dark brown locks. You smiled at him, "Thank you, brother. I will send a raven when I am settled, and... Well, you know."

"When you're married," Luke teased, giggling lightly.

"Hush," you mother chided gently, but smiled at the boy, glancing at you. "Go hug your sister goodbye, love."

Luke frowned deeply and rushed for your waist - though, no longer being a small child, he was still a young lad; and you could wrap your arms around him tightly. You kissed the top of his head and sighed, "I'll miss you with my heart, Luke. I promise to write you, you can practice writing me back if you want."

"But, sister," he worried, pulling back only so to hush, "what if the nightmares come back?"

You smiled at him, "I left you a present on your bed. I hope that helps you through the nights. Let it be a comfort." It was a red and black stuffed dragon toy, something you prayed would comfort him in your absence.

He nodded, tears falling down his cheeks. "Do not go," he begged gently, holding your skirts.

"I'd stay if I could, but this is for the best," you assured, never having the heart to tell him that your marriage arrangement was made some years ago, and now, as you were a woman, it was time to 'pay up' to save him from being blinded. He didn't need to know the truth.

Jace pulled Luke back but instantly stepped up in his place, instead. He sighed into your neck; much taller than the last time you remembered, and letting yourself loose a few tears. "Do not let them change you, sister. Please, be safe," Jace rushed in your ear, tightening his hug.

"I will," you cried, giving him a squeeze. "Be there for Mother... She'll need you now."

"I won't disappoint you," he promised, pulling away.

"Be good," you chuckled at him, patting his shoulder as he moved back. Baela and Rhaena stepped up to hug you goodbye, having grown fond of their older 'sister' during the time you had together. You kissed their foreheads, bid them well, and again, promised you were only a raven away.

Daemon was next, and he did offer a hug (shockingly). You squeezed into his embrace, and when you pulled back, he wished, "Good luck in the city, niece. Remember the leech will feed, even when fat. My brother's blinded by..." He sighed. "Nevermind. It's not your responsibility. Just do not let him forget his family loves him."

"I'll be sure to be there for him, Uncle."

He nodded, "Then - good luck. Marriage is mostly political, so, play your part with caution in mind."

"Your advice has always been appreciated," you nodded. "And thank you - for all the lessons you gave these past years."

"What a student I had," he smirked, giving you a final nod as you moved on to your mother.

She took a long, shuddering breath. "You'll write, won't you?" Her hands reached, as they always did, to pet over the silver locks that spilled down your shoulders.

"Of course," you promised softly. "You will not be rid of me so easily."

"I should hope not," she chuckled, but held her tears at bay.

"Say it now, Mum, and I will stay," you promised in a whisper. "You need me, and I will stay - "

"No," she sighed, moving to hold your cheeks. "You are no longer responsible for me. I would not let you go if I thought it was feeding you to the wolves... Though I wish for you to stay, there is a duty to be performed, my sweet girl."

You nodded, letting a few tears fall down your cheeks. "I'll just miss you terribly. Who will I go to for advice?"

"You'll understand who to trust, but keep in mind that you might write in a journal. Let it act as if it's me, and write, my girl. Hide it away, burn it even, but do not let yourself feel so isolated."

"A Black Dragon in an Emerald Mine," you snickered softly, making her grin. "I will not disappoint you, Mother."

"You never do," she promised. "Be careful, and do not trust anyone. You're in the snake's garden now, and their bite is fierce."

You nodded, hands over hers to hold your cheeks. "I wish you'd be there."

"I do, too," she promised. "But you are my strongest girl, you will endure this with grace."

You nodded, leaning in to hug her one last time. She sniffled into your neck, but after a moment, you had to giggle, "Mum, you've got to let me go. Mumma, c'mon, now."

She groaned and released you, "All right, fine. Go on. I love you - so much. Do not forget that."

You climbed onto Kasta's mighty back; needing something of a rope ladder to get on her properly. With another wave, your family called their love and luck; hearing Kasta roar in departure before surging forward, spreading her wings, and then leaping off the cliffside. You held on tightly as she cut through the air, your family all watching as Kasta roared once more but otherwise, did not turn back.

You cried during the whole flight; truly afraid of what you were to encounter when you landed. Alicent and the Hightowers knew of your arrival, and you wondered why she insisted on such a swift wedding.

Last you knew, your fiancé had both concurred the largest dragon in the world but also lost his left eye.

Perhaps there was a rush so you could not back out. But you had honor, and if your hand in marriage is what it took to heal the rift between your families, to soothe the wound Lucerys inflicted, then so be it. There was honor in completing one's duty.

You prayed, through tears, it was enough.

[ part two ]

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#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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OUTLAW (34)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: smut(MDNI for you safety and mine), piv, we innocents up in here

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). HEHEHE. We love smut

You quietly hummed to yourself as you picked up some of the things around Mingi, San, and Seonghwa’s tent. Each boy had their own cleanness along with messiness. So you took the liberty of cleaning up after them, finding pleasure in it seeing as they supported you more often than not. 

They were the ones who brought food in and gave you shelter. Besides, until something happened, you had to keep yourself busy. You would be going crazy if you just sat and did nothing. 

As you were moving their bedrolls off to the side, Mingi stepped in. You looked up at him, giving him a smile in greetings. 

“Doll, do you know how to sew?” He asked, sticking his leg out to show you the large hole in the side seams. 

“What happened?” You laughed. 

“I got it caught on something.” He sheepishly spoke, scratching at his cheek.

“Come here, Mings.” You smiled, taking his hand to take him to Yeosang’s tent. 

The boys were off doing their own things, leaving you at the camp with Mingi and San. While you normally didn’t have a tent you slept in often, all your belongings were in Yeosang/Yunho’s tent because it was the only one with two people. The others already had three bodies inside them. And also when you would sleep with another of the boys, someone would move in with Yeosang for the night to give you room. 

You let go of the boy’s hand when you entered your tent, moving to find the sewing kit you had hidden in a chest. Mingi watched as you dropped to your knees, rummaging around. After you found what you were looking for, you turned around to look at him. 

He only raised his eyebrows, glancing at the kit in your hands. “You need to take off your pants.” You giggled, scooting over to the bedroll so your knees didn’t hurt from the ground. 

“Right.” Mingi blushed, moving his hands in front of his pants. He turned around, unbuckling his belt. 

“Don't worry, I'm not looking.” You hummed, turning around to give him privacy after noticing how he seemed to hesitate. 

“It's okay.” He whispered, keeping his pants in front of him. He turned to you, seeing your kind smile looking up at him. Mingi blushed again from your position, falling to the floor to avoid further embarrassment. 

You got to work folding his pants inside-out, taking the needle and thread to loop them together. Mingi kept his eyes on the way you worked, knowing exactly what it was you had to do. He knew it was what was asked of many women at this time, but he still enjoyed seeing such mundane things. 

“Can I watch you?’ He asked, getting a blanket from the side to cover up his bare legs. 

“You don't need to ask.” You told him softly. As you began to stitch the hole up, you grinned to yourself, thinking about the boy in front of you. 

“You know, you're such a sweet boy.” You told him. “Never would have guessed you'd be that way.” You giggled lightly, glancing up at him to catch his reaction. 

“It's how I am.” He answered, looking down to avoid you seeing his blush. “I'm not really good with the ladies.” He admitted. 

“With a face like yours?” You gasped teasingly. “I doubt you're not dropping panties in every town.” You snickered. 

“(Y/N)!” He whined, kicking his feet out like a child. 

“Sorry.” You giggled, closing off the thread to keep from slipping out from the stitch. “You're sweet.” You told him, turning the pants back around. “And I like that about you. You're like a princess.” You teased him again. 

“Not always.” He sighed deeply.

You looked up at his change in tone, watching as he seemed to be in deep thought. He had a frown on his face as he thought about something. You set the pants off to the side, scooting closer to him. 

“Tell me about it.” You asked him, moving to sit at his side. Your thighs touched, legs stretched out in front of the both of you.

“It was before I met the boys.” He began. “My family lived in poverty and it left me scared of what my life was going to be like in the future.” He pulled his knees-up, placing his arms on them. 

“I would close myself off and just stay in my own world. I used music as a coping mechanism. Because of that, I tend to pick fights because I didn't know how to really talk with others.” He scoffed to himself. “I didn't have any friends until I met Wooyoung. He was the one who introduced me to the others.” 

“When we left our old lives behind, I wasn't worried about what life would be like for me anymore. I just wanted to stay with the boys.” He turned back to you. 

You knew you were nowhere near having the same story as Mingi, but you understood what it was like to not have friends–at least not until you met the boys. It seemed they had that magical energy that just pulled you in and made you become a new person. 

“You're all so close.” You spoke up. “It's an amazing thing to see. I want what you all have.” You sighed, playing with your fingers in your lap.

“You can have it.” Mingi told you, pulling at your chin to look at him. “Here with us.”

You turned to sit on your calves, giving him a smile as both of his hands placed themselves on your cheeks. You laughed a little, scooting closer to him. 

“Though, I don’t think the others would appreciate it if you had the same feelings we have for each other.” Mingi grinned. 

“Why so?” You giggled. “Wanting to deny me the chance at having a close bond with you all.” You joked. 

“Not at all.” He laughed. “I just think if you liked us the way–say–I liked Jongho, I wouldn’t be able to do all that I wanted.”

“All that you wanted?” You raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“I want to kiss you.” He softly spoke, looking away from your eyes. 

You began to heat up at the sweet way he spoke. It made you warm to think about how much of a sweet boy Mingi really was. He was shy about things and while he wanted to ask them he waited until you brought it up.

“You’re right.” You grinned, looking down at his lips that seemed to be parted. “I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

You leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. Just like last time, Mingi slowly moved his lips, trying to keep up your movements. He was moving on instinct, following your lead. It made you feel light-headed. 

As your lips moved against his softly, you began to feel something that made you want to take the lead this time. You had no idea what it was you were doing, but then again neither did Mingi from what you understood. Because of this though, you wanted to be the one who took care of him. 

Only thinking about what Yeosang had done to you, you shuffled closer to Mingi, his legs parting to make room for you. He had to tilt his head up in order to meet your kiss, but his eyebrows pulled together as he seemed to fall prey to your leading. 

You began to push him back, making him lay down while you hovered over him. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he seemed to have left them at his side. As you began to feel relentless with how he avoided touching you, you grabbed his hands for him and placed them onto your hips. 

You placed one of your knees between his legs, the other making you straddle his thigh. When you began to grow tired from holding your body up, you allowed your hips to fall and sit on his leg. Out of reflex, Mingi flexed his thigh, causing him to rub against your core. You hummed quietly, appreciating the touch as you began to grind down. 

Mingi’s quiet whines and whimpers seemed to have spurred you on, his eyes squeezed shut. You had no clue how you got to that point, but the moment you felt his hard length rub against your thigh, your knee pushed forward just a bit. With the added pressure, Mingi’s hips thrust forward as a moan slipped from his lips. 

Thinking about how Yeosang used his hand on you, you thought about touching Mingi in the same way. So without so much as a second thought, your fingers began to softly touch at the large bulge in Minig’s pants. 

“Ah!” He panted, hips stuttering forward, causing you to fall off from his thigh.

You gasped, hands bracing yourself on his chest from the movement. Your other leg had moved to straddle his waist, causing him to place his hands on your hips. With you now sitting directly on him, he began to move your hips along his length. Pants fell from both of your lips as your hips seemed to pick up movement. 

You began to get heated and with no afterthought, you pulled at the hem of your dress, causing Mingi to quickly sit up and take his own shirt off. The moment your skin came into his view, he seemed to have stopped breathing for just a moment. 

His hands began to shake, which led to him clenching the bedroll at his side tightly. When you took notice of how he seemed to avoid touching you again, this time you took his hands and placed them on your chest yourself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him. “But I want you to touch me, Mingi.”

He whimpered at that, quickly placing his hands under your breasts as his fingers lightly grazed your nipples. 

You gasped out, hips thrusting forward to get stimulation at your core. Your panties were getting soaked, leaving a wet spot on Mingi’s pants. Mingi went back to holding you over his thighs, moving you back and forth to help the pressure on both him and you.

“Can–Can you touch me?” Your breath got caught at the boy’s whimpers. 

Your stomach began to form that ball that you came to enjoy. With a nod of your head, you moved to grab onto his hand. “Teach me.” You whispered. 

Mingi closed his eyes tightly before lowering your hands down to his bulge. He began to buck his hips up, and your fingers twitched around his shaft. While he didn’t tell you what to do from there, you grabbed a hold of his length on your own. 

This caused him to pant out. “Like that.” He said breathlessly. 

You watched mesmerized as your fingers seemed to get caught as the waistband of his pants. Wanting to feel more of his skin, you moved your hand under them. Your eyes snapped wide open as Mingi seemed to get choked up. His hand flew to your wrist, moving you to pull his pants down. 

You sat up off of him as his length came into view. You licked your lips, staring at his hard cock. You didn’t exactly compare it to Yeosang because you weren’t able to view him like you are Mingi, but you still felt the sudden ache between your legs. You licked your lips as you stared. 

Mingi’s large hand wrapped around it, causing you to look up. Without thinking, you crawled onto your hands to lean and kiss him. Mingi began to pant into your mouth, moans slipping out as his hand pumped his shaft. He nearly choked when you took his hand into your own. 

He was quick to let go, head falling back as his Adam apple bobbed. You quickly leaned forward to place your lips along his skin. Each noise that came out of him made you want to break him more. 

You had no idea how to go about things, but you knew that Mingi was someone you wanted under you. Someone you wanted to command. The dominating side of you.

So you crawled back into his lap, letting go of his length, that got a whine from him. He quickly looked back at you, watching as you settled yourself onto his lap. When your hands pushed at his shoulders, he fell back down, his breaths coming out harsh. You could tell from the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Mingi?” You questioned him, watching as he seemed to be in a trance.

“Don’t stop.” He panted. “Please. I want more.” He whined, bucking his hips up. 

You gasped as the tip of his cock caught with your clit. He shoved you back down, wanting to keep his length warm with the heat coming off you. 

“Mingi.” You whined, going to move off him and onto your back. 

However, he didn’t let you move, keeping you seated on him. “Like this, doll.” He told you. “I want you to ride me.”

Your eyebrows raised at his words, tilting your head to the side. “Ride you?” You asked him. 

He gulped again, nodding his head against the pillows. You felt him start to rock his hips upward, moans falling from your lips from the feeling. 

“Just like this. I want you to be on top.” He whispered.

The way he was cruising his length between your folds had you panting out, mouth going dry. Your hips began to move on their own and you gasped as his tip caught on your entrance again. Mingi stopped for a moment, allowing his length to tease your entrance. 

You tried to move a certain way to get more of him into you, but it wasn’t working, so Mingi got you to move your hips. As you did, he grabbed a hold of his length, hissing for a bit. When you looked down, he began to move your hips as well, trying to make you sit down directly over his length. 

The scream you let out had Mingi pausing for a moment in worry, but when you quickly sat down and took him all the way, his groan covered up your own. When your steam turned into whines and whimpers, Mingi realized it was only pleasure you were feeling. 

And when you started to move your hips back and forth on your own, he grew to realize that he wasn’t going to last long. Your walls clamped around him and moved along his length. He felt the clenching and unclenching of you that stimulated him in ways he had never thought of. 

He was in heaven and was trying his hardest not to cum prematurely. So he bit at his lip and allowed you to use him in any way you needed to in order to get off. And lucky for him, it wasn’t long before he felt you start to clench tighter around him. 

“Mingi.” You whined, hands placing themselves near his head as you fell on top of him. “Please.” You cried to him, cheek rubbing at his shoulder as you grew sensitive. 

So Mingi planted his feet onto the floor as he held you up by your thighs. His fingers skimmed where you two were connected, which prompted groans from the both of you. His thighs clenched and he began to thrust his hips upwards.

Your pants could be heard outside the tent, but it wasn’t anything new. At least not after the night you had with Yeosang. You tried to stop your moans from getting too loud, but when the rubber band in your stomach snapped and your core began to clenched tightly onto Mingi, you bit into his shoulder and began to suck to calm you down. 

Mingi’s deep voice panted into your ear as he quickly pulled out and used his hand to orgasm onto the back of your thighs. You moaned out loud when his own made you clench around nothing. He sounded so sexy as tears pooled at the corner of his eyes. 

Your hand moved up to stroke his hair, messaging his scalp to get you both down from your highs. Mingi was letting out little whimpers and moans from the over stimulation as his hand kept pumping for a moment. Your own hips seemed to stutter along his, feeling your nerves on fire. 

“You’re a good boy, Mingi.” You whispered, kissing him on the cheek. 

A blush settled on his face, causing you to smile. “Thank you, Doll.”

Series Masterlist

#kpop fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #ateez seonghwa #fanfiction #mingi x reader #song mingi ateez #mingi smut #mingi ateez #mingi x y/n #song mingi x y/n #mingi x you #song mingi x reader

[luvbugs-blog]

gyutaro h/c with blind s/o

pairing: gyutaro x reader

POSSIBLE SPOILERS

a/n: super sweet h/c about gyutaro! ALSO, i tried to make this gender neutral as possible, so I'm sorry if there's a bullet point that doesn't reflect that. I'm also trying to be inclusive in my writing (so i don't always include able-bodied readers) but if something is incorrect, please let me know! love you all!

even before turning into a demon, gyutaro wasn't happy with the way he looks

poor little baby was getting bullied, beaten, and shunned

so coming across someone that cannot see his face might help that insecurity a little bit (not that he wouldn't want someone who could see him, because if you truly loved him, it wouldn't be a problem)

how did you two meet? (in these scenarios, pretend like daki and him are separated/he isn't inside her body)

scenario one: you bump into him at night in some alley in the district trying to find your way back to your house. and he waits for the squeal of terror directed towards his face, or for you to run away. but instead, you bow, apologizing deeply. it's then that he notices your cane. you go to brush off his clothes when he grabs your hand and insists no harm was done. let him walk you home. why is he acting so nice? he doesn't know. but he doesn't like it. he hates humans, disgusting creatures. but this one seems ok.

scenario two: daki grabs you for your beauty, but he stops her from devouring you. why? who knows? maybe it's because he recognizes you from when you were kind to him. either way, you're his now.

just like when he was the primary guardian of his sister, he would love to feel like he was protecting you, even when you don't really need it

he would follow you around to make sure nobody would be mean

he would make sure there were no sharp objects around that you could potentially run into in areas you weren't familiar with

one night, the two of you were sitting on your futon, talking, hugging, doing whatever s/o and demon bf do, when you reached up to touch his face. he tensed up a bit, a little nervous of your soft hands feeling the uneven skin, but when you smiled at him, he saw you were genuinely happy. he might've shed a tear that night, but who knows?

you could feel his body tense up next to yours, but you didn't cease your movements. your hands, cupping his face, trying to map out what you couldn't see.

"mmmm, whatcha doing?"

"just trying to feel what you look like."

"'fraid there isn't much there, love."

"nonsense. you are gorgeous."

(sniff. "are you crying?" "no it's just raining." "..." "we're inside.")

his hands reach up to cover yours, slowly entwining your fingers as he puts them into his lap. he rests his forehead on yours, and the two of you sit that way for a while before you reach up and press a small kiss to his lips.

"thank you."

"for what?"

"loving me as i am."

"and you, me." (<- a/n: this part was so rough for me to think of. i literally had a brainfart and was like, how do you respond to this... 'ditto?' 'same here?' i wanted it to be romantic lmao.)

this man wouldn't hesitate to kill for you. fr. you saw what he did to that samurai that got ume. he would annihilate them.

i'm trying to think... how would he respond to you aging? like would he just let you die of old age? would he turn you into a demon? like this man has never felt so loved and accepted by someone (who wasn't his sister), and i don't think he would let you go that easily.

love languages: physical touch. this man was STARVED of loving physical contact as a child. please hug him.

words of affirmation. mans doesn't regret becoming a demon, so don't say anything like that. but maybe, "you're so pretty", or "best bf ever" or "you're too good to me." mans would be one of three things.

one, weeping. crying his eyes out. hugging you, or your waist (depending on where the two of you are)

two, bashful. little embarrassed about his reaction, but he loves and CRAVES the attention. little head kisses as thanks.

three, literally throwing you onto the bed and just going crazy.

fucks you into next week.

his love languages towards you: acts of service. physical touch. enough said.

very loving though. just don't flirt with anyone else, even to get a rise out of him. toxic gyutaro fr. mans is a demon. how else would he react?

a/n: AHHH hope this is enjoyable! let me know if you want more h/c from characters. i'm literally obsessed with demon slayer rn...

#gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro demon slayer #gyutaro x you #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n

[destructive-path]

Patrol Partner Protection Syndrome - E.W.

summary: Ellies habit of going above and beyond her duties as a patrol partner causes you to question her motives.

tags: patrol partner!ellie, slight innocent! reader, ellie is older than you in this, swearing, a kiss is shared at the end, no smut in this one folks just good ol fashion yearning :)

a/n: as usual i wrote this very spur of the moment and its not proofread but you love me anyways so j shut up and enjoy

“Yep, that sounds like a classic case of the 3PS.”

“3PS? That sounds like a fucking star wars character.”

A loud laugh leaves Jesses lips at your remark furthering your frustration visibly before Dina smacks him on the shoulder gently.

“Patrol partner protection syndrome.” Dina says plainly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Its why Ellie threatened that guy that was flirting with you at the bison last night.”

The look on your face is still riddled with confusion. Dina sighs deeply, your innocence was always something that was a little difficult for others to adjust to. Explaining certain topics always took a little longer when it came to you.

“Sometimes, when two people get paired up on patrol they begin to…how should I say this? Okay look. Usually in a pair theres one person who feels a strong obligation to protect the other. It doesnt always have to be the stronger person per say. On patrol you and this one person go through some serious shit together. You both become more and more venerable the more you put your trust in them and let them protect you, aaand sometimes the lines blur between them protecting you to keep you alive and them protecting you because they think they are meant to. All the time.”

You slowly begin to understand.

“Its what happened with me and Jesse…Tommy and Maria too.”

“Wait but you’re all couples.”

Jesse and Dina look at each other then look at you. A grin fights its way on both their faces, then your eyes grow wide.

“Oh my god….OH? MY GOD? Are you saying Ellie likes me?”

They both burst out into laughter, once again making you feel extremely embarrassed. You cross your arms in frustration and slump further in your chair.

“Hey. Hey hey. Im not saying she HAS a crush on you, because thats not my place to assume how she feels completely.”

“Buut she did mention her heart beats faster anytime you smile at her, and thats like pretty gay.”

“JESSE.”

Jesse throws his hands up in defense, then shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Sorry! Look am I wrong? You two would be great together. Plus i’m sick of hearing about you every time Ellie comes over.”

“JESSE!”

“What? WHAT?”

“Your killing them.”

You felt exhausted. Ellie had feelings for you? She consoled in her best friends about your smile? This changes everything. How were you supposed to see her casually or for patrol, knowing what you knew now.

“Jesus im losing it.”

“Well, do you feel anything for Ellie?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“I-I dont know. I mean I like having her around. She always makes me feel comfortable…safe. I really like when she cooks for me or plays me songs on her guitar. She always looks so cool when she plays, and her voice is sooo pretty. I mean shes also really pretty too. Well not pretty…more like-“

As you search for the right word to describe Ellie you notice the way the couple looks at you. Like you just said something incredibly obvious and extremely oblivious to you. Then it sinks in.

“Oh my god I like Ellie.”

They both nod in unison.

“I gotta go.” You shoot up and grab your bag then rush out Dina and Jesses place, not bothering to say your goodbyes. You only had one thing in mind.

Ellie.

—

As you run as fast as your legs can muster, you think about the events of last night that led you to Dinas and Jesses inquiring them for advice.

It was all very trivial and cliche. You had been dancing at the Tipsy Bison after a few shots of whiskey, on your own. The usual gang was there minding their own except for Ellie. She always had her eyes on you whenever your presence was near. Glass in hand as she leaned on the bar watching while you spun around the room. Ellie couldn’t bring herself to join you, so she settled for being an audience member. She always admired your outgoing nature, never concerned on what others think of you. As Ellie thought about other attributes you had that made her fall for you, someone else had decided to take it upon them to impede on your dance party of one.

Some man tall in height but skinny in stature stood uncomfortably close to you. Uncomfortable for Ellie that is. The grip had tightened on her glass so that if she clenched any harder it would break. The sight of the mans arm slithering around your waist and pulling you close had Ellie swallowing the rest of the contents of her drink and slamming the glass on the bar counter and making her way over to you both.

“Ellie-“ Dina tried to stop her due to the angry nature of the glass hitting the wood making a sound loud enough to pull the couple away from whatever they were having, but its no good.

“Save it.” Ellie snaps, then makes her way over to you. As she advances closer she can tell you weren’t one hundred percent comfortable with this random mans advances on you. She knew you were too nice, too innocent to understand that his intentions were not pure and that you didnt have the strength to push him away. But Ellie sure did.

“Thats enough of that.” Ellie says as she rips the mans arms off of you and grabs your wrists to pull you away from him.

“Woah woah who the fuck are you?”

“Im Ellie, and we are leaving.”

“I think they can make that decision for themselves huh?”

Ellie looks at you with a deep frustration. One you had never seen in those eyes before. Not even on patrol, this was something by different. If you weren’t so tipsy you could swear it was laced with a heavy amount of possession.

“Ellie.” you slur slightly.

“We are leaving. Now.” Before the man can protest you were being pulled out the door and into the cold jackson night.

The walk back to your place was silent. Ellies grip on your wrist had morphed into a waffling hand hold sometime after you exited the Tipsy Bison. The warmth of her fingers intertwined with yours made you heat up inside, blushing extremely prominently due to the alcohol running through your system.

When you had finally reached your door Ellie pulls you face to face with her. Hand still together. She uses her free hand to push some loose strands of off your face to see you better. A soft smile twitches on her lips for a moment then she finally speaks.

“Go inside and go to bed, you’re drunk.” Its not the farewell you hoped for, but it’s soft. Ellie utters the words with care in her own way. You can’t help but stare at her through lidded puppy eyes and nod slowly.

You turn to unlock the door then turn back around.

“Goodnight Ellie.” You whisper in a way that makes her heart ache.

“Goodnight.”

It’s only when she turns around to walk away does she finally let go of your hand.

“Ellie? Ellie please open up I know you’re in there.”

After knocking for what felt like forever you were finally graced with the sounds of locks being undone. You take a step back and watch the door swing open revealing a slightly disheveled looking Ellie. Still she renders you speechless for a moment her appearance making you shy, as it always has.

“What’s up?” She says genuinely concerned. You see her face soften when she realized the interruption of her personal time was you. The difference making you blush.

“I-Can I come in?”

Her eyes grow wide, you hadn’t been inside of her space yet. The vision of you and her in her room alone flashes through her brain. She steps aside and opens the door fully to make room for you to enter.

“Oh yeah of course please come in. Sorry.” She laughs shyly. You make your way into her space and can no longer hold your questions to yourself.

“Sorry its kind of a mess I wasnt really expecting any-“

“Ellie do you like me?” Its silent for a moment before Ellie speaks up.

“Of course I like you kid, you’re my patrol partner.”

“No not in that way I mean, you’re always looking out for me and making me things. Even when we aren’t on patrol! You act like my bodyguard sometimes…”

Ellie knows exactly where to is going. Your confrontation of her actions makes her smile a bit.

“I feel the need to protect you outside of patrol sometimes, sure.” Shes looking right in your eyes, observing the look on your face so she doesn’t say the wrong thing. Right now you look as if you had just been hypnotized eyes devoid of much thought.

“3PS.” You whisper, just loud enough for Ellie to hear. It’s quiet for a moment then an involuntary scoff comes from Ellie as she raises her arm to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“You’ve been talking to fucking Jesse.” She laughs and turns away from you. You watch her in awe of what you felt like Jesse and Dina had prophesied. Was it really that simple? The act of protecting someone equating to love was a thought that made your heart swell.

“Ellie…I like you. Alot. But I need to know if you like like me or if you just like me enough to protect me. Like you would protect Jesse or Dina. Because I thought I just liked you but then I started thinking about your voice-“

“My voice?” Ellie had turned back around and was still while watching this confession spill out of you. Her question driving a step closer to you, the advancement unbeknownst to you due to the rambling of your thoughts.

“Yes your voice, and the way you sing and play guitar for me and how much i like it-”

Another step.

“-and how pretty you sound when you sing-“

Step.

“-and how pretty you look, well- not pretty but-“

With this last step you had only now realized how close she had gotten. Speech dying at the lack of a word to describe Ellies appearance. You were certain there wasn’t a word so great.

“You don’t think i’m pretty?” Shes pouts, lost on your words. The praise of her leaving your lips so easily is something she would soon crave often. Your breath begins to pick up slightly at her question. The look on her face causes you to whimper slightly. A look of hurt adorns her face, exaggerated to make you feel bad for her.

“No.” You protest meekly.

“No?” Ellie shakes her head in offense.

“No! I-I mean…I think you’re very pretty Ellie.” You shakily admit. The words make you feel a wave of embarrassment in this situation. Her proximity not making this confession any easier.

“Yeah?” She questions rising her hands to push your hair out of your face as she did the night before. The feeling of her fingertip makes you lean into her touch, closing your eyes at the soft stroke of her digit on your forehead.

“Mhhm” You nod and sigh simultaneously. As your head falls due to your loss of strength at her touch, she takes your head into her hand and strokes your cheek with her thumb. This delicate action causes your eyes to open slowly meeting Ellies green ones. Everything about her exudes admiration. She cant get enough of how at her disposal you seemed to be in this moment. The sight of you had coaxed out the need to protest admitting her feelings. No longer afraid that you might deny her.

“I..like like you too.” She whispers while staring at your lips, licking her own at the sight of them. The new shine of her lips brings a heat to your cheeks, Ellie notices this and inhales deep. Her confession has you reeling. The sound of her voice as she admits her likeness towards you radiates need. For once you are certain it’s because of you. Ellie needed you. Ellie wanted you.

“Stay with me today. Hmm? Let me show you.” The softness of her request is as comforting as a pillow. You can tell she so desperately wants to rid you of any doubts that Ellie was completely and utterly infatuated with you.

“Show me what?” You ask curious of what she had in store. She licks her lips again. Then brings your face so close that you can feel Ellies breath on your lips as she whispers-

“How much I like you.”

before placing a desperate kiss on your lips.

~

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams fic

[oopsimbug]

in which… y/n is stubborn, and harry is still an asshole

a.k.a. regency harry pt. 2

a/n: gah… i literally dont know what to say… how about: oh my god i am so sorry for taking so long! school, two jobs, a lack of inspiration and literally hating my own writing made sure i was unable to post for an entire YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS!!!! i DEEPLY apologise. i hope this is alright? let me know what you think! and yes, there WILL be a third part, hopefully out before the earth is enveloped by the sun?

pairing: regency era! harry styles x reader, enemies to lovers

summary: again, think little women, but with you instead of jo and harry instead of laurie… but harry is an asshole… a RELENTLESS asshole

warnings: harry is still a GIANT ass, all enemies no lovers, lots of really mean things said to each other, they literally truly hate one another like i have my work cut out for me trying to redeem this couple :’)

word count: 10.8k (smaller than my first chapter, but god did i struggle getting over the 9k mark… i literally hate myself)

read part one here!!

Money…

It was what made the world spin around. 

Unfortunately, the L/ns did not have as much of it as they used to. 

This was why, when their mother needed money to visit their father, who fell very ill, Y/n set out to find a job.

Replacing her mother at her job in the nurse's office wasn’t going to work- she was horrible with sitting still for too long. Besides, her hands were far too shaky to hold silly little fiddly needles. No, there was no chance she would do that. 

She could try to get a job at a shop- a bakery possibly? But no, she had little patience for old people, who were always either very interesting and passionate, which she loved, or very snooty and cold, which she despised with every cell of her being- and unfortunately, the majority of customers were the elderly, who shopped when they had nothing else to do during the day, and they were predominantly of the latter kind. 

Y/n was positively puzzled- stupendously stumped and magnificently muddled. She knew she was talented, but what job would she fulfill that would be of use and make a substantial pay? She pondered that all morning as she completed her chores- tending to the animals and picking up more wood. Once inside, she stoked the fire, made two cups of tea and sat at the dining table. 

“Saf!” she called to her sister upstairs. “Bring your packet and come to the table- it’s 9:30!”

At the age of 13, girls were forced to graduate school. Ma and Y/n, who didn’t believe this was enough of an education, devised a plan- once graduated, the L/n girls would do tutoring sessions with Y/n, who was passionate and proficient in all areas of English, which was what the girls would require the most to function in the world. She would also help with arithmetic- though it was not her strong point, she was confident in the skills they would probably need. Safia was under the tutoring of Y/n, as would Ula the next year. 

As she waited for the pitter-patter of Saf’s feet down the stairs, she thought to herself. Unfortunately, all natural thoughts seemed to lead in the same direction lately- all pertaining to a certain tall and lanky individual with brown hair. She was not moping, that was for sure- Y/n did not mope. She was not even upset about him choosing a different woman over her- that was a fleeting insecure thought held only in the heat of the moment that night. No, she was mad. Furious, in fact. How dare he- how dare he?! He strung her along, purposefully got her hopes up for the mere sake of making fun of her- he embarrassed her and then had the utter gall to smirk and wink about it afterwards! Y/n always had a temper, but this was anger on a whole different level. This was searing, hot, burning, blood-red vexation. Her hands began to ball into fists- she wanted to hit something, break something, hurt him and only him. 

However, before she could fantasise about all the ways she would cause him pain, she felt a soft arm on her shoulder. She must’ve been caught in a trance, unable to hear her sister come down the stairs and call her name once she reached the bottom and found Y/n unresponsive, as Safia’s face held deep concern, eyebrows knit together as she repeated her question. 

“Are you okay, Y/n?” her tentative and soft voice carefully asked, placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, ever the sweetheart. “You’re not feeling ill, are you? I know Liz was rid of her sickness a few weeks ago, but it may have lingered around the house.”

She smiled up at her younger sister, who moved her hand to feel her cheek, after finding no suspiciously hot temperature on her forehead. She shook her head and let out a small laugh, all of the rage for him leaving her thoughts. 

“I’m okay Saf… just thinking…” she replied honestly. She was just thinking… thinking of how she would pelt that damned boy with logs of firewood. Or maybe she should let Flynn at him- she had already told the Clydesdale of what had happened. Maybe he could stomp him down till he quivered and shook with fear, begging both of them for forgiv-

“Thinking about what?” Her sister’s voice pulled her out of her reverie once again.

Y/n looked up at her face, smiled brightly, pulled out the adjacent chair and patted it lovingly, before replying with a jolly tone.

“Nothing that you should worry about… Now, are you ready to venture into the world of Hedda Gabler?”

Her sister smiled sweetly before sitting down, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Of course I am!”

“Great! Because today, we are going to be analysing gender and how it influences power within our passage!” Y/n was always so excited to teach her about the books, poems and plays that she liked- there was no way she would teach her sister boring and dull theory, or pieces that only reflected a man’s perspective. No, she had an opportunity to open her sister’s mind and hopefully make a lasting impact on it- one that encouraged her to pursue her dreams without needing the opinion or permission from a man. And she wasn’t going to waste it. 

“Now, open to our bookmarked page, and let’s begin…”

*****

After finishing classes, Y/n got dressed and ran out the door before her sisters could follow her, unable to take all of them to the village on Flynn, and not wanting to upset anyone. She buckled the saddle into place and hopped on before riding the path all the way to town. After tying Flynn up with hay and water, she straightened out her dress and apron and began walking, dodging men who gave her glances of annoyance for her slightly messy loose hair, mussed on the fast journey on the Clydesdale. She had bigger things to worry about, despite what Liz would say…

She was picking up some lemons from the market, which Ula insisted on getting, convinced that they were necessary to her social status in her school, where pickled lemons were the talk of the town. While the need for lemons didn’t sound dire to Y/n, Liz benevolently gifted her extra loose change, justifying it with something about “knowing what it was like to not fit with others at school”. And while Y/n didn’t believe money like five whole dollars should go to waste on lemons, she still searched the shelves intently, looking for some that weren’t too costly. While leaning forward, she walked through an aisle, scouring the lowest shelf for them, unaware of the person she was about to bump into. Curse her clumsiness! 

She walked right into the unsuspecting person before standing to full height, apologies spilling out of her rapidly as she helped the older lady regain balance. Y/n had never seen her before- an older woman, around her own mother’s age, with brown hair that was greying from the roots and forest green eyes that twinkled, reminding her all too much of a certain boy, but she pushed those thoughts away. She also looked of money, with her elegant dress, shoes and shiny jewels.

Y/n began spilling out apologies as it was her own fault for the collision, and the kind lady forgave her each time with a “That’s all right, my dear”, with calming energy radiating from her. Once the two women had settled they let out breathy chuckles at the incident. Beginning to move back to her search for cheap citrus was halted, however, when Y/n noticed the woman seemingly struggling to find what she was looking for. Y/n observed covertly as the lady would gingerly pick up a bottle of what looked to be cologne, look at the label for a few seconds, squint as if to make out what it was saying, before putting it back nervously and repeating with the next. 

Y/n noted that when she would “read”, her eyes didn’t stop to comprehend the words. She needed help, and Y/n was not one to shy away from that fact. 

“Hello,” Y/n began. 

The lady smiled sweetly as she replied, her green eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Hello, love.” she gently replied. 

Y/n wanted to help without seeming patronising, so she was careful with her words. “So, what brings you here, Ma’am?”

She looks around, then down at the glass bottle in her hand before looking back at Y/n. She fumbles and hesitates as she answers.

“Oh- well- I am looking for this shoe polish, but… I seem to be having a bit of trouble…”. She went beet red before she whispered in a meek and quiet squeak only fairies could hear. Fairies or those who had experience with shy sweethearts as Y/n had with her Saf. 

“You-“ she slightly huffed a bitter laugh through her nose. “You probably can already tell, but… I can’t read…” she confessed, thoroughly embarrassed.

If Y/n wanted to help the woman before, her holding cologne that would most certainly tarnish leather while shopping for shoe polish convinced her utterly and completely. She did not hesitate- not even for a beat, determined to show that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all! 

“I can help you! I never use shoe polish- my shoes are always getting muddy anyways, and it would only be a pain to scrub them for nothing, so I don’t have any suggestions in mind, but if you have an idea of the type of polish you wanted, I could help you out!” She dropped personal anecdotes into the conversation, as she often did when conversing with strangers, finding it easier to comfort others to relax around her when they knew she was an open book.

“Oh thank you, my darling! I am looking for a dark brown and black coloured polish that would work best for making leather loafers shiny.” 

And with that, Y/n began her search, starting with going to the correct section, before beginning to scan the tiers of the shelves carefully, looking for what the lady wanted. The woman followed her and began a friendly conversation with her as she searched. 

“My nephew needs new polish for his shoes. I would have told him to do it himself, but he’s out of town, you see. Went out of town, about a week’s trip away. I couldn’t send my maid either- I wished for her to take some time off while there were less people in the house, you see. So here I arrived, figuring I could just find it myself. Ah, how foolish.” She then sighed once more after simmering in laughter for a bit, looking wistfully at another tin she could not decipher the contents of. 

Y/n found the two tins of shoe polish, holding them out to her while responding firmly. “Ma’am, you are not foolish at all. At least you tried! And look, here you are helping your nephew who’s out of town, after letting your helpers take a break! That’s not foolish, that’s compassionate,”.

The lady smiled warmly, the wrinkles next to her eyes crinkling and creasing beautifully as she did. “Oh, darling, you are very sweet for using your gift to help those who cannot. Thank you!” She lightly squeezed Y/n’s cheek playfully before walking to the counter, Y/n following after her before placing the tins on the table for the cashier to process. 

“You are very welcome Ma’am.” The lady began to pull open the small embroidered coin purse she had in her slightly wrinkled yet sturdy hands, fishing for a coin before dropping it into Y/n’s palm and winking. 

Y/n’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hand the coin back. 

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly. I was just trying to be of service, truly. Please take your money.” 

But the woman was not having a lick of it. Her face grew stern, her eyes fiery as she quickly snapped back. “Don’t you dare try to give that back, it’s yours!”

Y/n reluctantly smiled and nodded gratefully before walking back to the shelves to continue her search for lemons as the gentle tinkle of the doorbell indicated the sweet lady’s exit. She could not stop thinking about her, however. Why was it that men were taught to read and write and build and farm, but women were only taught how to be good mothers and wives? That woman could learn to read- anyone could, really. All she needed was a teacher… 

Suddenly, Y/n had an idea. One that caused her to drop everything she was doing and run out the door to look for the woman. Teaching! Y/n could teach the woman and in return, get a bit of money! After looking around, she found her walking down the cobbled street, seconds from entering a very expensive and fancy carriage. 

“WAIT MA’AM!” Y/n cried, weaving past the people and carts on the busy street as she ran to her. The lady’s ears perked and she looked back, locked eyes with Y/n and froze with concern, allowing the younger girl to catch up. 

“Yes, my dear?” She asked, once Y/n had caught up and was attempting to catch her breath. After a few deep, embarrassingly wheezy breaths, Y/n finally calmed herself down enough to respond. 

“Icouldteachyou-”, she said exasperated all in one sentence before punctuating it with a heaving breath. After taking a lungful or two of air, she clarified to the poor confused woman.

“Ma’am, I could teach you how to read! If you would like!”

The woman’s eyes opened wider in astonishment before her face brightened with a radiant smile. “You would teach me?” She asked, almost flabbergasted.

“Yes, of course!” Y/n responds, enthusiastically. “I am currently teaching my sisters how to read, so I know how to do it! I could help you too if you would like!”

The woman’s warm and grateful smile shone brighter than the sun. And Y/n’s heart stuttered with excitement when she asked to exchange addresses for further communication. 

This was it… she was finally going to help her family.

******

It was four days later when the L/n residence received two letters, both with express stamps on them, signaling their importance. One was a letter from their father, which the girls were keen to read immediately, but waited for their mother to come home so they could unveil it together. The other, however, was mysteriously addressed to and only to Y/n. How peculiar! 

“Y/n you must open it in front of us- what if it is a secret admirer hoping to eagerly profess their love to you!” Ula whined. Liz shook her head and looked at the youngest girl. 

“If Y/n wants to keep this to herself, she exercises her right to do so”. Liz’ eyes drift to Y/n’s slowly as she continues. “…However…”, before finally running and springing onto her. “You MUST tell us if it is!” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at her sisters, despite Liz’s best attempts to put an end to the “unladylike” and “brash” behaviour. “Come on, there is no way it will be a boy… have you ever even seen me with one? I would run circles around them in every sense before their tiny minds could even get a singular word out!” 

Y/n, though thoroughly believing in her statement that yes, she probably could outshine any boy in the town, also- in the back of her mind- registered that yes, maybe she was overcompensating and exaggerating just the smallest bit in order to shield her heart, still sore from the events of Tilly Hughes’ ball and that wicked boy. Her sisters chuckled at her musing as she made herself comfortable on the sofa chair next to the fire, all three of her sisters huddling behind her in order to get a good view of the elegantly folded and wax-sealed letter that Y/n began to tear open. Once the pristine paper was unfolded, she stood up and began to pace as she read- her sisters giggling and breathing over her shoulder was doing no good, and she needed to focus. It read:

Before Y/n could process the words written on the paper, Liz narrated the letter to Saf and Ula- the latter began to squeal mercilessly, while Liz grinned from ear to ear, pores radiating with pride for her sister. 

*******

The house was astonishing. It was grand, it was elegant, it was pristine.

Above all, it was capital!

The trek down the natural and lush path of trees and fields was all a ruse- Y/n knew Ms Ophelia was a rich woman, but she but any preconceived notion of what her house may look like while trekking the trail was completely, utterly, jaw droppingly decimated. Once reaching the end of the driveway (walking ever so slowly to take the majesty in), Y/n and Flynn were met with pristine hedges that bordered the entire property. Two large white marble columns with oil lamps attached signaled the beginning of the courtyard. In between them, was a large opening where Y/n could see the greenest grass she had ever witnessed, a center hedge path, and behind it, Ms Ophelia’s grand home. Y/n’s mouth was hung open as she approached the large, stark white building, with its covered entrance, wide expanse and huge windows. 

It was a stretch for it to even be called a house. It was a mansion- a manor. Y/n resolved that there must be a plethora of family members that justified the sheer volume of space there was to occupy. She stepped off of Flynn, held the end of his reign, and walked through the grassy courtyard and to the front door. She would have taken Flynn to the stables, not wanting her first introduction to her well-paying student to be interrupted by the attention-hungry Clydesdale, however, the house was so grand she could not even begin to wonder where the hell the stables could be. Instead, she smoothed the light wrinkles out of the frock that Ula picked for her, slightly disgruntled when remembered the lack of a waistcoat she had on. She attempted to fix and flattened the now slightly frizzy hair that Liz had spent almost an entire hour to style, mussed a tad due to the breeze created while riding Flynn, before taking a deep breath in... and rang the doorbell.

She heard some muffled clattering, before hurried footsteps approached, growing louder and louder before they reached the mahogany door, pulled open to reveal a positively ecstatic Ms Ophelia- her brown hair pulled back with a hair pin, but similar in frizziness to Y/n. Her eyes squinting with her warm closed lip smile, the green irises truly dazzling with excitement. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green and white silk dress, her chest adorned with a single thin gold necklace threaded through a small locket. 

"Y/n!!! So nice to see you!” The lady took Y/n and Flynn in with a charming smile, cooing at the latter before stepping forward to give the Clydesdale a stroke down his white blaze and a scratch on his chin, causing him to preen, closing his eyes a soft huff of pleasure. She then looked to Y/n. “Please, my farmhand Thomas will take this handsome boy to the stables out back."

She looked past Y/n to the front garden and called to the man Y/n hadn't noticed had been planting flowers. He had shiny blonde hair, short from the sides while the top was long and messy, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed the golden mess out of his face and smoothed it back, revealing a bit of dirt on the sun-kissed skin of his forehead. Descending down, there were thick eyebrows, hazel brown eyes squinting in the glare of the sun, a strong nose, and full lips that were pursed and curved into a sweet and friendly smile. He stood, brushed himself off, approached Y/n, and wordlessly took Flynn with a charming smile, nodding to her before walking around to the side of the house. After losing sight of him, Y/n looked back to Ms Ophelia, who opened the door and gestured Y/n in. 

"Please do come in!" As Y/n stepped through the threshold of the house, Ms Ophelia continued. 

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea- I warmed up enough water for the both of us. How do you take it?" The older woman began walking, Y/n trailing behind her as they entered the beautiful eggshell white kitchen with purple accents.

"Oh, well if it isn't a bother, I take one sugar and only a bit of milk" Y/n watched as the woman poured the boiling tea into the two mugs. 

"Huh!" Ms O looked at Y/n funny, before looking down at the cups she was working on. "Me too! Just enough milk to make it a very dark brown?"

Y/n’s eyes begin to light up incredulously. "Yeah! That's right! My sisters all think that I never put enough in!" 

"My nephew does too!" 

The women looked at each other and smiled- they both knew there was some sort of connection that brought the two of them together, and that they would be kindred spirits. 

*******

The lesson went swimmingly, as agreed by both Y/n and Ms Ophelia (sorry- just Ophelia, the older woman had been very adamant about that). They had sat and begun with the alphabet, and while Ophelia was quite bashful when Y/n corrected her, they knew that with time, they would become more comfortable. Eventually, despite her consistent imploring that she stay for dinner, Y/n insisted she must go home. 

"But my nephew will be home soon! He is such a charming, well articulated boy! Loves reading and the such- You two would get along so delightfully!" She clapped her hands eagerly at the thought, however, Y/n, softly stroking a saddled Flynn- thanks to Thomas, who wordlessly passed her the reins before walking off- looked at her new student and friend with a soft smile. 

"I'm sure anyone who grew up around you would be a wonderful friend, Ophelia, however I really must get home. My family will be expecting me soon."

Once goodbyes had been exchanged, they agreed to meet once again in a few days. And with that, Y/n mounted Flynn and began to ride the now dusky ride home. She may have dawdled a little- the sun was still so warm, and the breeze was beautiful. Flynn moved at a comfy pace as she appreciated the beauty of the world around her. 

However, that beauty was soon not in her focus when Y/n noticed someone riding towards her in the distance. She continued her pace, and as the figure approached, ready to return a polite nod if they were to greet her. As the figure continued on further, she squinted and began to make out a mop of brown hair, and a black blob of a coat, before all too quickly she recognised those sharp green eyes and the nose and those stupidly plush lips as he trotted closer and closer and god- oh no…

Y/n began to feel her stomach drop.

"Well well well! Look who it is!" That snide voice, that blasted smirk that taunted her. 

It was her arch nemesis.

His horse slowed down while she did nothing to stop Flynn, walking completely past him without even acknowledging him- her eyes forward and steely. She thought she had escaped him but she heard footsteps coming closer, however, and soon, Y/n was walking side by side with none other than Harry Styles. 

"What's with the cold shoulder, sweetheart? Have I done something to upset you?" He taunted in a teasing tone. 

"I am not your sweetheart, and don't you have a party to crash, loverboy?" She rolled her eyes and kept moving forward, him keeping an identical pace beside her.

"Ooft, take it easy darling, you’re going to hurt my. Large. Throbbing. Swollen. Red. Hot. Heart!" He punctuated each word with a beat, and Y/n's face became hot; she began to scrunch the sweaty leather reigns harder into her palms at the obvious innuendo. Harry saw this and grinned wickedly for getting to her, a malicious giggle even seeping out of him- he enjoyed this. He enjoyed relishing in her awkwardness. Once his giggles calmed, he shook his head and continued. "What are you doing out so late anyways? Meeting up with a secret lover?" 

Y/n couldn't even dignify that with a response, and merely scoffed and rolled her eyes again at the preposterous accusation. He noticed and continued.

"Hey, you scoff at that now, but who knows. It seems to be the quiet, pure ones that surprise me the most. The most proper girls always turn out to be the dirtiest. So, no- I don't think it's out of this world for a little thing like you to be getting your hands or mouth sullen for a bit of pleasure. Did you see the way you trembled for me the night we met? And the way you cried when I was paying attention to that little French girl? Don't lie, you were charmed, and seeing me with someone else broke your fragile. Little. Heart." 

He was unbelievable for bringing that up again… Y/n felt her rage boiling now. She responded bitterly and slowly. "Please, you are so full of yourself…. And of course you would know all about women and their sexuality, now wouldn't you"

"Hard to scorn someone for being likeable, isn't it, Grumpy?"

Y/n had to stop her horse fully and glare at the idiot. She looked deep into his eyes, calmed down and began to smile. She was in complete and utter disbelief. She shook her head and giggled a peal of bitter laughter. Harry’s face darkened in irritation. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

Y/n’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as her giggles quelled. "It's funny that you think you are likable, Harry. You see, there is a difference between being desirable, and being easy. And it’s only the thoughtless ones like you who seem to be incapable at telling the difference. Not a thought behind those eyes, is there?... I wouldn't be surprised if you'd thought with your cock so much that your brain had atrophied due to the lack of use. You're not likeable, Harry Styles... you're just a plaything for widows and repressed virgins who wish to piss off their fathers to use and discard. And I cannot help but feel sorry for you for being the only one who cannot see that."

If she was not mistaken, Y/n believed she saw a bit of surprise and possibly even hurt in his eyes before they hardened, their playfulness completely drained. She did not think she was going to say that at all, and in any other situation, she would have thought that to be such a mean thing to say... But she had been sitting on that for far too long, and he had pushed her over with the teasing and the cockiness. She had had enough. Harry Styles needed to be brought down a peg or two.

They stared each other down fiercely, neither wanting to stand down. Then, he quickly shot at her. "You are nothing but a poor virgin with a gabby mouth that you wish was stuffed with my cock." he spat with nothing but poisoned malice.

Ouch… He was trying to catch her off guard, an attempt to garner some pride back, and while it immediately hurt Y/n, the wound of embarrassment growing in her heart, she knew she could not let him win. She quickly locked and loaded, before pulling the trigger without thinking. 

"And you are nothing but a dirty harlot who wastes his privilege of manhood on being a tart to women who don't even want him." she spat back at him. 

Targets acquired and shots fired, the two needed to go home and lick their wounds, crudely bandage their bullet holes and hope the sharp pain of the words spoken were only a temporary detriment to their own health, but an everlasting hellscape to each other. Both wanted to see the other in pain. Both wanted to win.

So with that, Harry made a big show about rearing his ashy grey horse up and around, before both of them spurred their horses forward into a gallop and away from the other- both carrying furrowed eyebrows, slightly hurt feelings (that they would never admit to), and a newfound degree of ire for each other…

He won’t get away with this.

********

Once tacking up Flynn, Y/n stomped her way to the house, still unbelievably enraged by the verbal warfare engaged with that brunette ass. She knew she wanted some alone time to calm down, but once entering her cosy home, she was bombarded with questions from her sisters- mainly Ula.

“Was the house big?!”

“What kind of dress was Ophelia wearing?!”

“How many servants did she have?!”

“Did she have lots of paintings on the walls?!”

“Any handsome sons?!”

“Did she tell you if she’s been to any exotic places like France or Switzerland?!”

“How was your day, Y/n?”

The last question was asked, of course, by her angelic sister Safia. Y/n lovingly rolled her eyes at the incessant questions from Ula and answered Saf’s tenderly. “My day was alright Saf, thank you for asking.”

“That’s good- I wished hard on all the dandelions I could find outside that you would come home safe and sound.” Y/n’s heart melted- she walked over to the younger girl and kissed her forehead with so much love and passion.

Ula observed the tenderness of the exchange and rolled her eyes. “Safia is perfect”, she taunted with a roll of her eyes before returning to her previous exercise of pulling up on the septum of her apparently “hideous” small aquiline nose to shape it into a more button nose, which she believed to be more elegant. Y/n looked back at Saf and whispered lovingly in her ear.

“Never stop wishing for the people you love the most, okay Saf?” Y/n gave her one more kiss before moving to the youngest sister with the most spunk besides Y/n herself. She gently swatted her hand away from her nose before lovingly stroking the bridge as she pulled Ula in for a hug from behind.

“And you, little missy! Stop trifling with the features your parents so lovingly passed to you. That nose isn’t a curse, it’s a gift. Treat it as one.” She kissed Ula’s head too before heading further into the house to greet her older sister and her mother. But as they had dinner, Y/n could not stop thinking about how much she hated Harry… little did she know, however, that her older sister Liz observed her suspiciously throughout the night.

Once in their room, hair and teeth brushed, dressed in their respective pyjamas- Liz’s a dainty white nightgown akin to the one Harry so scandalously described, and Y/n’s a mismatched patchwork buttoned set that Ma had made out of Y/n’s old clothes that she was too big to fit into, yet could bear to part with. Tucked into their beds, Liz turned to face Y/n and began.

“If Ms Ophelia was so very nice, what is the problem?”

Y/n turned to face her with furrowed brows. “What problem? There is no problem”

Liz rolled her eyes and shot back. “Yeah yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, Y/n. You can fool Ula- which isn’t saying much, but you can't fool me, so why don't we pretend like I tirelessly needled it out of you and you skip to the bit where you tell me what’s wrong”

Y/n sighed a long, hard, tired and frustrated sigh, before ultimately giving in. “I ran into a sworn enemy on the ride back home today…”

Liz shot up, eyes wide and mouth agape.“Who?!?”

“Harry Styles.”

Elizabeth stared incredulously at her sister, propped her pillows so she was sitting up, and began needling Y/n for more information. “What did he say? What did he do? Why is he your enemy?”

Y/n sighed. There was no way she was going to get to sleep until she told Liz everything. So she began…“You know of his reputation, yes?”

Y/n’s older sister gasped again. “Y/n… don’t tell me… he… with you?”

Y/n immediately understood what she was insinuating. “NO! No way! Never! Not in a million years! You know I hate everything to do with boys. I cannot believe you would think that of me!”

Liz sighed and sunk into herself in relief. “Thank god! I didn’t think you would but… unfortunately his reputation is quite… damning to say the least. Why, it was only last week he was with Amelie… did you see the way he returned her to the group? He didn’t even bother to wipe her lipstick from his lips! What a brute!”

Y/n brought her blanket up even closer to her face until only her eyes were visible, and mumbled her confession. “I know… I told him exactly so today…”

The older sister slowly started at her, tone changing completely to one low and testing. “What...That he is a brute?”

“Yes of course!” Y/n immediately shot back, exasperated.

Her sister stared at her with her mouth agape and eyebrows intensely furrowed. “...WHY?! Haven’t you heard of his family?!?” At Y/n’s confused face and shaking head, Liz took a deep breath and began. His father lives all the way in New York… Ma told me it was because he was absolutely dreadful to his wife and Harry all the time. Kept money from them, abused them, hit them- so much so that eventually they had to run away from him when he was only 10. They fled to a safe place- some cottage in the middle of nowhere? But get this- once there, his mother contracted scarlet fever and passed away. He had to walk all by himself to the nearest village to call for help- by the time medical assistance arrived, his mother was long gone. And with no other relatives bar his wicked father, he was left in the care of his devilishly deviant, yet disgustingly rich aunt.”

Y/n went completely silent. She didn’t know any of this… Of course this was deeply traumatic and saddening- but Y/n could not help it- her stubbornness was a curse, not a gift. And the curse would not allow even a tale so sorrowful allow Harry a free pass. 

“Liz- of course this is deeply tragic and traumatic- however, circumstances can only explain actions. They don’t justify them. What has happened to Harry should mean that he spends his time helping women, not putting them down… which, I guess he does by pleasuring them, but God I wish he wasn’t so smug and pompous about it… He was so- well, not nice, but normal and cheeky and charming, when we first met- it was like a switch flicked in his head and that man no longer exists”

“Of course- if he is as cruel as you say, I 100% agree. Although he has a right to hold trauma, it does not change the fact that he is but a wicked man”

The girls sit in silence for a second, contemplating. Then, ever the know it all, Liz jumped right back into her Styles Family History Lesson, giving Y/n the run down. 

“But anyways, his aunt is apparently a very influential figure! She’s rich beyond belief, and could probably control this entire town with the pulling of some strings and some money, which she most definitely has! Do not fool around with them, Y/n… especially not Harry…” Elizabeth brought her hands up to her temples to sate her sudden headache, a frequent occurrence when having to feel stressed for Y/n whenever she inevitably threw herself into apparently unacceptable situations, such as whistling in public or not wearing gloves, and had no apparent regard for the consequences. 

“What am I to do then?! He is my sworn enemy- if I see him in my general vicinity, my whole body and soul tells me to rip him to shreds! How am I supposed to see him at balls, and on random walks back home, and NOT rip my hair out of my head?!” Y/n complained with a whiny tone.

“Avoid him! Completely and utterly avoid him”

Y/n harrumphed. “...Fine…”

“Good idea- I know… plus… you know what they say.” A lilt of cheekiness entered the previously stern tone. 

“What?”

A wide smile grew on Y/n’s older sister’s face, unable to hide her amusement. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Who knows- maybe he just fancies you? You know… like likes you” 

Y/n immediately threw a spare pillow at her sister’s head and groaned, before burying her hot face under the covers, completely and utterly embarrassed. Elizabeth dodged the stray pillow as she laughed raucously at how annoyed her sister became. 

Y/n shook her head vehemently. “Never in a million years, Liz…”

Never in a million years…

*********

“Make sure you avoid making the “Z” look like the number “three”. Remember, small angled curl, then draaaaaag down to make a bigger and longer angled curl. Other than that, Ophelia, I must inform you that unfortunately my work may as well be over… because these have to be some of the best cursive letters I have ever seen- I know that I have only ever taught my younger sisters, but I am nothing short of confident that you are the fastest learner I have ever had, ever!” 

Ophelia put her hand up to her chest and let out an exasperated breathy laugh that combined a giggle and a sigh of relief. “Stop it Y/n… you nearly gave me a heart attack! Anyways, it’s not that great.” She emphatically waved her hand as if to physically shoo the thought away. “I believe that as long as I am able to write and read, who cares about the blasted handwriting. As long as it is- at the very least- legible, I don't mind a thing.”

Y/n could not emphasise this enough: she loved Ophelia. She was sweet, funny, sarcastic, naughty and brash enough to understand all of Y/n’s jokes as simply that- jokes with no malice. Y/n admired her face thoroughly in amazed silence. Ophelia glanced at her and continued. “Now, would you like a cup of tea before you go?”

Y/n was shaken out of her trance and began to pack up her books as she responded. “No, thank you. I'm okay- I really should get going though. The wind is picking up and as much as I would love to stay and chat, I don’t really think being cold and wet is how my mother wants me to return home!”

Y/n bids Ophelia farewell from inside the house before going out back to meet Flynn at the stables. However, she sees another figure tending to him, and as she arrives closer, she notices not Thomas’ blonde messy hair- but instead a soft brown colour. 

Jesus Christ, this guy will just not leave her alone, will he?!

Y/n is about three feet away when the figure finally turns, and she is once again met with the cheeky smirk of Mr Harlot Styles. He looks her up and down carefully, making her insides all squirmy under his inspection- she hated the way he made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin. Once finding her eyes, he began. 

“Grumpy…”

“Harlot… Leave Flynn alone. He doesn’t like jaded asses.” Y/n crossed her hands over her chest and stood with a cold hard stare.

“Flynn? Pretty name.” Harry looked at Flynn and continued. “Does the angry little lady dump her frivolous complaints and girly problems onto your poor back, my friend?” Harry looked back to Y/n and continued. “ And hey, he might hate jaded asses, but apparently, he loves temper tantrum-throwing toddlers if he’s your horse.” 

If she didn’t know how horrible of a person he was, she would classify the way he was scratching Flynn’s chin as lovingly- but Harry wasn’t loving, and he certainly wasn’t capable of loving. He was a beast. Just another man who thought Y/n spent her hours with her equine companion complaining as if juvenile… and what the hell are “girly problems”?! 

Harry chimed in again, breaking her out of her frustrated train of thought. “Huh! Would you look at that, Grumpy- your jaded ass-hating “noble” steed’s loyalty can unfortunately be bought by absolute strangers!”

He smirks up at her as he pulls a sugar cube from his pocket and holds it out to Flynn, who eagerly licks it up, jutting his snout into Harry’s hand to spur some more pats out of him. Y/n let out an angry huff. “Greedy traitor…” she mumbled under her breath to her horse, before taking a deep breath and got straight to the main issue, not wanting to spend any longer talking to him than she had to. 

“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

“God, I was just wondering when I would be in your lovely company again- you know- should I call a doctor for your hysteria? Because it is you, girly, who is consistently following me. I would be surprised due to your incessant reminders that you hate me, but I’m not. Your infatuation with me seeps through your shoddy disguise completely. Face it, Grumpy… you’re obsessed with me.” 

Y/n wanted to slap him so hard. Or at least shoot back some equally damning response, but Liz’s words echo in her ears to simply ignore him. So she simply comes closer, walking to the opposite side of Flynn and begins strapping her bag to Flynn’s side saddle pouch. 

“Your silence is deafening, Grumpy… Is this it? Are you finally admitting that you have been just another precious little schoolgirl obsessed with me this whole time? I bet you would look out your window and pray to every shooting star that floated by that you would see me again. Did you giggle with your little friends while braiding each other's hair about how much you want me? I bet you squirm under your covers in a little pure white virginal nightgown dreaming about my fingers and my tongue and my cock. I bet you're stupidly in love with me, huh Grumpy?”

Y/n hated the way he would describe typically feminine stereotypes with such condescension. She hated being treated like a little girl. Throwing Liz’s advice completely out the window, she couldn’t help but mumble under her breath- just a little something to hurt him. “What would you know about love, Daddy’s boy?…” 

If Y/n looked up from the saddle pouch she was working on, she would see Harry’s eyes blown wide with surprise. He looked so vulnerable- almost childlike- as if her comment transported him back to his father’s house. Before she noticed his silence, though, he schooled his face and began to round the horse, his eyes darkening. “And what would you know about anything? You’re just a pathetic little girl. You act as if you have experience with the world, as if you will be anything more than a boring old housewife, but you never will be…”

Y/n stared daggers into Harry as he stalked closer and closer until he was less than a foot away from her, their outerwear brushing against each other. If he simply wrapped his arms around her waist, their bodies would be flush against one another completely. Y/n had never felt so degraded. She was just another girl to him. She was just another girl to all other men. Her biggest fear was being forgotten- for her loving family- her creative sisters and amazing mother- to be forgotten… For all of the amazing women that she encountered at balls to be forgotten. To be married off and treated as property. 

Harry continues on his poisonous tirade in an unwavering cold and calm voice, striking the deepest of Y/n’s insecurities and fears with pinpoint accuracy. “You look down on my hobby of pleasuring married women, but what you don’t understand is that when you are unhappily married off within the next few years, you will be writing letters to me, begging me to relieve you. You will wish I wanted you… You will wish your husband wanted you… You will wish any man wanted you… You will wish you were special… But you're not.”

Y/n held her breath as his hands raised up from his sides, ringed fingers lightly trailing over her skirts, her waist, her arms, her shoulders. Higher and higher, they softly glided over the fabric of her puff sleeves, before reaching her face, and cupping her cheeks. Harry’s eyes slowly flitted back and forth between Y/n’s eyes and her lips. His brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened, before lifting his right thumb to slowly pull down at her bottom lip... 

…then release the pressure created with his hold, watching- almost studying, its fullness intensely as it bounced back into place. Voice now barely above a whisper, rumbly and deep, he continues.

“You’re just another silly little girl who will be nothing but a wife someday.”

Harry’s hands moved from her cheeks to her neck, cupping her head, thumbs delicately tracing circles on the skin behind her ears, sending shivers up her spine. 

What was this? And why was it sending Y/n’s knees wobbly? She needs to snap out of it- remember her anger for him. All of her interactions with him, even this one, were merely strategies to throw her off- to dominate her. And she would not allow that.

So as Harry moved his hand to cup her neck, leaning in closer, she opened her mouth, ready to dismiss all logic and decimate the animal standing before her, attempting to kiss her just to intimidate her. Fuck everything- fuck him, fuck Liz’s advice, fuck men and their incessant need for girls to be prim and proper. Fuck all of them.

About to fire her biggest blow, all while he leaned closer and closer, his lips ever so close to touching hers, they were suddenly halted in their tracks by someone calling her name.

“Y/n!...” the voice was urgent but far away. Both Harry and Y/n looked out of the stable to see Ophelia running towards them. Y/n and Harry looked at each other and took a big step away from their close proximity as Ophelia finally reached the stables and held her hand on a wooden panel as she caught her breath, panting heavily. 

“Th-Thank-” A wheezy heave interjected her sentence. “GOD”. Another heave. “You hadn’t left yet!” She stood up straight and wiped the light sweat from her forehead with her wrist before straightening her back and walking closer to her. She raised her right hand, which held a small handkerchief, tied into a lovely little package. 

“I packed some hedgehog slice for you in case you get a little hungry on the way home!” She sighed exasperated, before looking between Y/n and Harry. 

Y/n’s heart melted a little- she came bounding all the way down just to give her a little snack? She was the sweetest woman in the world! And now Y/n was going to see her in action against the intruder to her property that was Harry Styles… Y/n was ready to see some ire and some spit hurled at him once she explained exactly what Harry had said about her and all womankind, really.

But that is not what happened.

Not at all.

Ophelia smiled warmly at Harry before looking at Y/n. “Ahh, I see you have already met my nephew, Harry!”

What. The. Hell?

Harry looked smug as anything as Ophelia continued. “He is the lovely, well articulated bookworm I was telling you about the other day!” 

Y/n gritted out a very hesitant “Nice to meet you…” as he looked at her, full of ego.

Harry then opened his mouth, presumably to tell his aunt about the intrusion that was Y/n’s presence on their land, but Ophelia quickly shut him up too. 

“And Harry, this is the bright and wonderful tutor and friend I was telling you about! Y/n is teaching me how to read and write!” 

Harry’s mouth shut immediately. It was Y/n’s turn to smirk smugly as he gritted out an “A pleasure to meet you” back. The two stared at each other steely, as if they were in a stand-off of the mind, all while Ophelia unknowingly watched on with a large smile. 

“I am sure you too will be fast friends! Don’t you agree?” Ophelia had so much hope in her voice. The two grit their teeth, not wanting to make a scene or displease the sweet Ophelia-

“Certainly…”, they manage to comment, in unison.

And after Ophelia hugs Y/n goodbye one more time, before turning and leaving, Harry tails after her, but not before giving a final glance back to Y/n. He smirked, the smile filled with boyish playfulness, but Y/n saw his eyes- those blasted green eyes clouded with taunt. He was challenging her. To what exactly- she didn’t know. To see who could hurt each other the most? To see who would win in the overall war between the two? Or was it just a smirk at her begrudging fate? That she would have to put up with him now because although Ophelia is a sweet woman, Y/n’s connection to her will never trump Harry’s- he’s her nephew. 

As Y/n saddled her was going to have to do what she wanted to the least in order to maintain both a professional and personal relationship with Ophelia, who she admired both as a student and as a friend…

She was going to have to be civil with Harry.

**********

Y/n believed wholeheartedly that it was punishment enough; that she was forced into both proximity and (at least) faux politeness with her sworn enemy- but evidently, fate had more to give. And damn, could it pack a punch!

It was almost silly that she hadn’t thought the universe had been through with her… When Y/n made the one-hour trip to Ophelia’s house, she just had to not bring her large, rainproof jacket. She just had to decide not to put Flynn’s horseshoes on, which would prevent him from slipping and sliding in the wet mud… Why would she do any of that?! It was perfectly sunny, and even a little bit warm on that Friday morning…

But no… of course, the moment she begins to wrap up her lesson with Ophelia and ride home- where she would tuck into a well-deserved late lunch and spend some time with sisters- of course it is only two days after she has discovered that her student raised and lived with her sworn enemy- it is then and only then that she finds herself stuck at their house, as a giant thunderstorm magically appears and begins raining hellish hail and pouring water from the sky. 

“Y/n, there is no way I am letting you ride home in this weather! That simply will not happen under my roof. I will send an urgent telegram to your mother to let her know you are safe and warm, but you are staying over for the night and that is final.”

There was no arguing with Ophelia. So no more than five minutes later, Y/n was being escorted through the maze that was her student’s mansion, and to a guest room she would be occupying for the night. She was sprawled on the giant, fluffy bed when she felt her skin crawl at a particular thought- though he had not appeared during her lesson, Y/n knew that Harry was somewhere in the house- Ophelia said so herself, as they walked to her room. What if they bumped into one another? 

“Harry is somewhere around here- I am sure that you two will be the bestest of friends- you have so much in common!”

Y/n had to awkwardly laugh and smile at that, agreeing as politely as possible so as to not arouse any suspicion- however, Ophelia seemed to take this for genuine interest though and began doubling down. 

“Hey, why wait until dinner- I can call him now!? Maybe Harry can give you a tour of the house- the gardens, the gallery, the library! Give me two seconds and let me go fetch him-” 

Y/n had never had such a visceral reaction in her life when she shouted a clear and desperate “NO!”... It took her a few seconds to recollect her thoughts before she attempted to save face; she halfheartedly dismissed the idea with a feeble excuse that she didn’t want to impose, and that she and Harry would have plenty of time to chat at dinner. Despite the suspicious glint in Ophelia’s eye, she did not press any further and left her to rest and unpack as she went to have a bath and take a relaxing nap before supper. 

Thus bringing us back to Y/n- sprawled on her bed, deciding that she would not leave the room until supper. There was no way she would risk bumping into Harry while wandering around his house. What if he had another sultry guest for the evening?! What if he shooed her off as if she was nothing but a fly?! Heaven knows he had done all of that before- and all on the same night! She began rummaging through her bag to retrieve her book, content on sitting down and reading as she waited for dinner, but as she rummaged, it dawned on her… 

Her novels, her personal pens and paper? All of them were either at home or in Flynn’s side saddle pouch, hanging in the stables- she had been carrying her personal books and papers for the past few lessons but found the weight quite heavy, and all for very little payoff- she rarely got a moment to read when she was in the middle of a very interactive, collaborative lesson. The reality of her situation collapsed on her as she brought her hands up to her face and let a frustrated groan into them- she was going to be stuck here in this room with no entertainment for the next four hours - Ophelia was occupied, her books and pens were with Flynn, and there were no reading materials in the beautiful yet empty chest of drawers and side tables of the elegant guest room.

There was no way she could sit quietly like this… She began to get cabin feverish already. She needed to get out… 

Harry wouldn’t be strolling about his own house, right? It was 2:30 pm on a Friday- surely there must be some work he had to complete? Y/n resolved that there was no way she would be able to continue to live if she didn’t have something to stimulate her mind, and the thought of passing up an opportunity to explore the various forms of entertainment in Ophelia’s vast house seems daft, even verging on sinful… 

So, with a deep breath, Y/n stretched her arms above her head, took a deep breath, and lifted herself off of the plush linen-covered mattress. She ever so slowly opened the heavy, beautifully intricate mahogany door and peeked out of the minuscule crack she created. 

Left, right, left again, right again. 

The coast seemed to be clear- she opened the door wider so that she could stick her whole head out of it. She looked left, right, left again, right again. You could say that she was maybe overreacting by being so very cautious, but she would rather not run into Harry and be forced to return to her room before she had acquired some entertainment and had a good look around the place.

Once she was completely sure that the coast was clear, she stepped out, gently closed the door behind her, and, with her hands behind her back, began to stroll the hallways curiously. Soon, her fascination with the grandeur of the mansion quelled her alertness and she found herself enamoured by the architecture as she walked down the hallways. 

She wished she could dip her head into every room she saw, but she wasn’t that daft- that would be one surefire way to overstep her welcome, especially when she was essentially stuck until the storm cleared up. 

She continued slinking around in a manner similar to Fennec’s- she took a right, and found herself walking down a hallway she would guess was near the back of the house, as the large windows to her left illuminated her pathway and showcased a beautiful array of pruned trees along a cobblestone path, with steps that led down to a beautiful, large pond filled with greenery. There was a small path that also winded around the pond and ventured into a beautiful, lush green forest. The rain pattered so beautifully onto the glass, creating beautiful shadows on the otherwise dim hallway. The house truly was magnificent. 

Once reaching the end of the hallway, Y/n was greeted with two very tall and wide arched wooden doors. She hoped and prayed she wasn’t about to walk into a personal room, before pushing in to peek at the contents. 

A large expanse of beautiful oak shelves befell her- filled to the brim with books. Books upon books upon books! Nestled so tenderly, they were wrapped in beautiful leather casings. 

Bingo! The infamous library!

Though there was a main seating area in the middle of the room- with comfy juniper green couches that looked a dream to rest upon, there were also many bay windows and little reading nooks to curl up in. Tucked into the corner was a desk, a chair and a reading lamp. In fact, there were lamps all around the room, however, most of the light came from the warm roaring fire that blazed in the fireplace. Y/n could imagine sitting in front of the fire on a pillow, a soft throw around her and a mug of tea between her crossed legs as she read Dickens. 

Y/n wove through each shelf, looking at all the amazing titles there were. There was everything here! Shakespeare and Dickens were classics, to be expected in most regal libraries, but looking closer, Y/n found Bronte and Austen too! Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Hans Christen Anderson’s fairy tales. This place had every book Y/n had ever read or wished to read! 

But something lingered in the back of Y/n’s mind…

If Ophelia cannot read, whose library is this? Who has so tenderly placed every book in alphabetical order, as well as sorted them by genre? Who has spent their time tediously gluing library cards to the inside of the back cover of seemingly every book, and has jotted down when they have been borrowed? Why would anyone ever do that, considering that most of them are read by assumedly the same person, judging by the ever so similar font and pen used to log the date of when the book was picked up and when it was finished?

Before she could finish her thought, the door suddenly opened. Y/n immediately cringed at the situation she was in- she could be caught snooping by Ophelia, oh how mortifying! As the heavy footsteps walked closer and closer to where she was, she weaved through shelves, attempting to find a spot to hide. She tiptoed through before flattening herself against a shelf at the end of the room, far from where the footsteps were heard. The unknown person’s gait was too heavy to be Ophelia’s and- 

Damn! 

If it was not Ophelia, there was only one other person it could be… 

She took a deep, silent breath before creeping her way to the edge of the bookshelf. She went to take a peek and see where the British bastard was, however, when she took one more step and stuck her head out, she was met with his body no more than five inches from hers. 

“AHH!”

“Shit!”

The pair jumped and shrieked for a quick second, not expecting the other to be so damn close. Y/n looked up to see Harry looked down at her with surprise and confusion. Her gaze panned down to his hands, noticing him carrying a brown leather bound book- it was smaller and very worn in. It looked beaten and bruised, like it had been read thousands of times. She couldn't see a title at all, but it wouldn’t matter- the moment he followed her eyes, Harry shoved the book behind his back. Her gaze snapped back up quickly enough to watch vulnerability flash in his eyes, before they set in his usual hardened gaze, infected with scorn.

He barked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

This wasn’t nonchalant Harry- this wasn't a Harry that was prepared for her attacks. This wasn’t the Harry that used his suave and unaffected demeanour to torment Y/n as he coolly fired shot after shot at her soul. No, this was a more frantic Harry- a more aggressive, threatened Harry. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Y/n explained, her brows furrowing and taking on a defensive tone, hands flying emphatically. 

Harry did not reply at all. The pair stared at each other sharply. It was as if they were having a battle telepathically, staring deep into one another’s unwavering, unblinking eyes, lips pressed shut into little frowns, brows knit, each daring the other to say something more. To poke the bear more. To continue the fight. They stared and they stared until Harry looked her up and down, shaking his head and scoffing, before walking further into the library. 

He seceded first! HA! She won! 

This victory wasn't savoured for long, however- she soon realised how foolish she would look just standing there in Harry’s dust. She didn’t look back to see which way he went and she didn't care- she kicked her body into motion and strode out the front door. Once she was out, however, she pathetically scurried her way back to her room, mortified. Once through the door, she slammed it shut and laid back against the cool wood. She took a couple deep breaths in the safety of the guest room. Now alone, she was able to regain her ability to think.

Harry was holding a book in his hands, before shoving it behind his back? Was he… bashful? What book would have made Harry feel embarrassed?

Further, if it wasn’t Ophelia’s library, there realistically is only one other person it could belong to…

Y/n shook the idea from her head immediately. It definitely couldn’t be Harry’s- not only was he too brutish to read for leisure, but also, the books there were too beautiful, too tenderly cared for- many filled with little annotations. No, Harry could not treat a human decently, let alone a book. He wouldn’t know how! The one in his hand, however. Her heart just couldn’t let that go… 

Maybe that was his? The small, beaten and bruised book. What kind of text would prompt Harry to read it over and over and over again. What words moved him so much that he felt embarrassed to show Y/n. Ofcourse, this was probably for the best- realistically, the pair should both provide as little information of their identities to each other as possible. Less ammunition that way. 

But Y/n, head against the downy pillow filled to the brim with the softest stuffing, lulled by the gentle nose of the lavender oil spritzed on top of the sheets, could not help but innocently wonder if Harry had a favourite book. She always wanted someone to share her love of reading- a simple friend that she could rant and rave to other than her sisters who, despite not possessing the same fire and passion as Y/n when it came to literature, attempted their hardest to understand her speeches and monologues of theory. 

It was not a question- Harry could never be that friend to Y/n…

But God, did Y/n wish that stopped her from imagining a version of him that could be.

#regency!harry #regency!harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles enemies to lovers #regency!harry enemies to lovers #by bug

[sixosix]

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔: 𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

blurb you’re trying to flirt with your best friend; kuroo’s losing his fucking mind.

# gn!reader, fluff, slight angst(?) bc kuroo’s a dumb bitch, friends to lovers :)

your shirt’s askew, revealing the smooth skin of your neck.

kuroo stares.

he’s not sure how long you’ve been looking like that, but it sure as hell feels like it’s been forever. he feels his face burning, but nothing else is coming to mind. he’s zeroed in on the exposed slope of your neck, and he feels like he can't breathe. or maybe he's breathing too hard.

you wave a hand. “kuroo…? you with me?”

he exhales, hard. “sorry—” he forces himself to calm down; to think about anything but biting you like a crazed vampire. “sorry, sorry. just, remembered something.”

you tilt your head, and it shows the slope of your— kuroo chokes, but mentally. “about?”

about how much i’m in love with you.

what? kuroo recoils at his own thoughts.

“nothing important,” he lies through his own teeth.

your eyes seem to lose brightness for a split second, had kuroo not been paying attention. “oh, alright.” you turn away from him, fixing your shirt.

why does it feel like kuroo’s not the only one disappointed?

you’re on his lap.

okay, he seriously doesn’t know how you pair ended here. it was only supposed to be a movie night (when is it only just a movie night, tetsu-chan? a voice that suspiciously sounds like oikawa whispers in his mind) but then you two inched closer and closer to each other like a gravitational pull.

and now you’re sleeping on his chest and kuroo is just melting because you look so adorable that he wants to kiss the hell out of you. but you’re asleep, peaceful and unaware of his internal conflict—like always.

“love you, tetsu,” you murmur sleepily against his chest as kuroo stiffens.

he runs a hand through his face, exhaling deeply.

“love you, too.”

“this is bad,” kuroo says into the phone next to his ear, gripping the pillow on his lap like it’s offended him. “this is really, really bad.”

it’s the fifth day of kuroo losing his shit while you unintentionally flirt with him while in the same house.

“you’re just making it bad,” kenma says. kuroo hears the clicking of kenma’s mechanical keyboard—it sounds extremely expensive. his best friend sighs, “i don’t get why you don’t just admit it to y/n.”

kuroo bristles at the thought, scowling at an imaginary kenma right in front of him. “you want me to just— hey, baby, this sounds crazy and you might slap me after this, but i am in love with you and have been since middle school!”

he scratches the nape of his neck, suddenly embarrassed at kenma’s deadpanned silence.

“i was talking about y/n giving you awkward bo—”

“woah, woah, hey! keep it PG!” oikawa shrieks, and it’s a painful sound. kuroo honestly forgot that he’s also on the call. “but kenma-chan is right, you know? kuroo tetsurou, you’re not only going to die a virgin—but also a coward for never confessing!”

“i’d rather die both than have y/n avoid me,” kuroo murmurs, and his brain decides to be a bitch and give him a flashback on how you looked so cute with his shirt.

kenma stops clicking, muttering an interested: “oh?”

oikawa makes a noise that sounds part amazed and part bewildered. “wow, you really love y/n-chan, don’t you? i thought this was just horny-kuroo speaking, but this is past that.”

“it’s been past that for ages,” kuroo hisses. “and now i’m torn between just kissing the life out of y/n and hibernating in my room for even thinking about that.”

“nevermind, you’re just really stupid,” kenma goes back to clicking.

sugawara—again, kuroo doesn’t know how they’re here—laughs; it’s the evil one. “we all know that. how could we even expect it to be different?”

“hey, shut the fuck up!” kuroo barks as oikawa cackles, followed by a thump. kuroo assumes he fell on the floor. “just because i’m at the top of my class doesn’t mean you should be jealous.”

“king of the class yet also king of being obliviously a dumbass,” kenma says; and it’s even worse when kenma teases him because it’s so deadpanned that he sounds deadly serious.

kuroo leaves the call, throwing his arms in the air.

he wanted some bro talk. he wanted some bro advice. instead, he got some bro-punch in the bro-face because his friends are keeping an inside joke from kuroo—and they keep saying you’ll find out when the time is right!

kuroo catches a glimpse of you from outside his room where his door is pushed open: you smiling at your phone. it’s a soft smile, and it looks good on you. he wonders when you’ll give that to him.

kuroo sighs to himself, turning away.

when will the time ever be right?

“guys, i think i’m giving up,” you announce one faithful day, walking into the kitchen while kuroo’s rereading his school materials.

kuroo listens half-heartedly, wondering who you’re talking to. and then he keeps reminding himself to focus on his goddamn chemistry textbook.

“no, dumbass. i tried everything!” you yell into the phone, pouring water in a glass. but with one hand on the phone, it wobbles dangerously.

without thinking too much, kuroo rushes to your side, standing right behind you as he steadies the glass for your sake. he will get a heart attack if you break this glass and get it all over you—and he does not want to get one right now.

your warmth is a distraction, and he barely catches it when you smile and thank him.

the person on the phone continues talking as you fill the glass to the very brim, and kuroo finally allows himself to release his grip.

“careful,” he says. “that one’s heavier.”

“gotcha,” you say, grinning in amusement. “no, tooru—” what? you’re talking to oikawa? “i’m not trying to be subtle… tips? fuck that book! that was written by a man anyway, i should know what i’m doing better.”

speaking of, kuroo should probably go back to his textbook.

“yes, i’m just going to do it,” you grumble, and kuroo actually likes that nose wrinkle you do. it’s cute. he pokes it and you stick your tongue out at him. “yeah, he’s right in front of me; you get to have a front row seat.”

but you’re also holding onto his wrist so he’s kind of stuck right now.

you look up at kuroo, stating: “tetsurou, i have been trying to flirt with you for the past week. tell me now, are you not interested in me or?”

“what.”

“that’s not an answer.”

kuroo’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “you’re serious.”

“as serious as i have been flirting with you,” you answer back.

“what the fuck,” kuroo breathes, and he’s sure he’s blushing madly because you’re unable to hold in your little giggles that make him feel warmer. “what the fuck.”

“still not an answer.”

“i’m fucking in love with you,” he adds hurriedly, knocking the phone away from your grasp in lieu of holding your face. he tries to convince himself that this is real. “and i am so sorry that i am ridiculously stupid.”

“oh,” your eyes soften, hands coming on top of his, “me too. i’ve been in love with you for months now. it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

“try years.”

you huff sharp laughter, squeezing his hands—and he melts into your touch, knocking your foreheads together. “so competitive. are you gonna kill block me from a kiss now?”

“never in my life,” he mutters, and slots his lips into yours; like the way he could’ve been doing all this time.

“can you wear my shirt again? that one really got me going.”

“i’m still here!” oikawa shrieks, mortified.

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